What will
avail all the glory I can acquire, if unsuccessful in my love!
Let us talk no more of that, said the baron de Palfoy, you ought to be
satisfied I do all for you in my power to do at present: - other
opportunities may hereafter arrive in which you may find the continuance
of my friendship, and a grateful remembrance of the good office you did
me; but to engage me to fulfil my obligations without any reluctance on
my part, you must speak to me no more on a theme which I cannot hear
without emotions, such as I would by no means give way to.
Horatio gave a deep sigh, but presumed not to reply; the other, to
prevent him, turned the conversation on the wonderful actions of that
young king into whose service he was going to enter; but the lover had
contemplations of a different nature which he was impatient to indulge,
therefore made his visit as short as decency and the favour he had just
received would permit. The baron at parting gave him a very affectionate
embrace, and told him, he should rejoice to hear of his success by
letters from him as often as the places and employments he should be in
would allow him to write.
Let any one form, if they can, an idea suitable to the present situation
of Horatio's mind at so astonishing an incident: impossible it was for
him to form any certain conjecture on the baron de Palfoy's behaviour;
some of his expressions seemed to flatter him with the highest
expectations of future happiness, while others, he thought, gave him
reason to despair: - sometimes he imagined that it was to his pride and
the greatness of his spirit, which would not suffer him to let any
obligation go unrequited, that he owed what had been just now done for
him. - But when he reflected on the contents of the letter to count
Piper, he could not help thinking they were dictated by something more
than an enforced gratitude: - he remembered too that he promised him the
continuation of his friendship, and had given some hints during the
conversation, as if time and some accidents, which might possibly
happen, might give a turn to his affairs even on Charlotta's
account. - On the whole it appeared most reasonable to conclude, that if
he could by any means raise his fortune in the world to the pitch the
baron had determined for his daughter, he would not disapprove their
loves; and in this belief he could not but think himself as fortunate as
he could expect to be, since he never had been vain enough to imagine,
that in his present circumstances he might hope either the consent of
the father, or the ratification of the daughter's affection.
Every thing being now ready for his departure, he took leave of the
chevalier St. George, who seemed to be under a concern for losing him,
which only the knowledge how great an advantage this young gentleman
would receive by it, could console: the queen also gave him a letter
from herself to her intended son-in-law; and the charming princess
Louisa, with blushes, bid him tell the king of Sweden, he had her prayers
and wishes for success in all his glorious enterprizes.
Thus laden with credentials which might assure him of a reception equal
to the most ambitious aim of his aspiring soul, he set out from Paris,
not without some tender regret at quitting a place where he had been
treated with such uncommon and distinguished marks of kindness and
respect. But these emotions soon gave way to others more
transporting: - he was on his journey towards Rheines, the place which
contained his beloved Charlotta; and the thoughts that every moment
brought him still nearer to her filled him with extacies, which none but
those who truly love can have any just conception of.
CHAP. XI.
Horatio arrives at Rheines, finds means to see mademoiselle Charlotta
and afterwards pursues his journey to Poland.
The impatience Horatio had to be at Rheines made him travel very hard
till he reached that city; nor did he allow himself much time for repose
after his fatigue, till having made a strict enquiry at all the
monasteries, he at length discovered where mademoiselle Charlotta
was placed.
Hitherto he had been successful beyond his hopes; but the greatest
difficulty was not yet surmounted: he doubted not but as such secrecy
had been used in the carrying her from Paris, and of the place to which
she had been conveyed, that the same circumspection would be preserved
in concealing her from the sight of any stranger that should come to the
monastry: - he invented many pretences, but none seemed satisfactory to
himself, therefore could not expect they would pass upon
others. - Sometimes he thought of disguising himself in the habit of a
woman, his youth, and the delicacy of his complexion making him imagine
he might impose on the abbess and the nuns for such; but then he feared
being betrayed, by not being able to answer the questions which would in
all probability be asked him. - He endeavoured to find out some person
that was acquainted there; but tho' he asked all the gentlemen, which
were a great many, that dined at the same Hotel with him, he was at as
great a loss as ever. He went to the chapel every hour that mass was
said, but could flatter himself with no other satisfaction from that than
the empty one of knowing he was under the same roof with her; for the
gallery in which the ladies sit, pensioners, as well as those who have
taken the veil, are so closely grated, that it is impossible for those
below to distinguish any object.
