ancestry she is sprung from.--I own your merits:--I also am indebted to you for my life:--but you are a foreigner, your family unknown,--your fortune precarious:--I could wish it were otherwise;--believe, I find in myself an irresistable impulse to love you, and I know nothing would give me greater pleasure than to convince you of it.--In fine, there is nothing but Charlotta I would refuse you.
The old lord uttered all this with so feeling an accent that Horatio was very much moved at it; but unable to guess what would be the consequence of this strange preparation, and not having any thing to ask of him but the only thing he had declared he would not grant, he only thanked him for the concern he was pleased to express, and said, that perhaps there might come a time in which the obscurity he was in at present would be enlightened; at least, cried he, I shall have the satisfaction of endeavouring to acquire by merit what I am denied by fortune.
I admire this noble ambition in you, replied the baron de Palfoy; pursue these laudable views, and doubt not of success:--it would be an infinite pleasure to me to see you raised so high, that I should acknowledge an alliance with you the greatest honour I could hope: and to shew you with how much sincerity I speak,--here is a letter I have wrote to count Piper, the first minister and favourite of the king of Sweden; when you deliver this to him, I am certain you will be convinced by his reception of you, that you are one whose interest I take no inconsiderable part in.
With these words he gave him a letter directed, as he had said, but not sealed, which Horatio, after he had manifested the sense he had of so unhoped an obligation, reminded him of. As it concerns only yourself, said the baron, it is proper you should read it first, and I will then put on my signet.
Horatio on this unfolded it, and found it contained such high commendations of him, and such pressing entreaties to that minister to contribute all he could to his promotion, that it seemed rather dictated by the fondness of a parent, than by one who had taken so much pains to avoid being so. O, my lord! cried he, as soon as he had done perusing it, how much do you over-rate the little merit I am master of, yet how little regard a passion which is the sole inspirer of it! 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.
He was almost distracted when he had been there three or four days without being able to find any expedient which he could think likely to succeed:--he knew not what to resolve on;--time pressed him to pursue his journey;--every day, every hour that he lost from prosecuting the glorious hopes he had in view, struck ten thousand daggers to his soul:--but then to go without informing the dear object of his wishes how great a part she had in inspiring his ambition,--without assuring her of his eternal constancy and faith, and receiving some soft condescensions from her to enable him to support so long an absence as he in all probability must endure.--All this, I say, was a shock to thought, which, had he not been relieved from, would have perhaps abated great part of that spirit which it was necessary for him to preserve, in order to agree with the recommendatory letters he carried with him.
He was just going out of the chapel full of unquiet meditations, when passing by the confessional, a magdalen curiously painted which hung near it attracted his eyes: as he was admiring the piece, something fell from above and hit against his arm; he stooped to take it up, and found it a small ivory tablet: he looked up, but could see the shadow of nothing behind