course of devotion:--oh! exclaimed she, exalting her voice, how do I detest and despise the vanities and follies of the world!--how hate myself for having been too much attached to them, and so long been cold and negligent of my only happiness!
The abbess, and, after her, all the nuns that were present, embraced Louisa,--praised to the skies this miraculous conversion, as they termed it, and spared nothing to confirm the pious resolution she had taken.
In fine, they consented to her pilgrimage with a satisfaction equal to what she felt in undertaking it,--they not in the least doubting but she would return to them as soon as she had fulfilled her devotions, and flattering themselves that the report of this miracle would do the greatest honour to their convent that it could possibly receive; and she, delighted with the thoughts of being at liberty to enquire after her dear du Plessis, and being freed from a dissimulation so irksome to her nature.
Her pilgrim's habit, and a great crucifix to carry between her hands, with another at her girdle, and all the formalities of that garb being prepared, she set forward with the prayers and benedictions of the whole sisterhood, who told her, that they should be impatient till they saw her again, and expected great things from her at her return, which, in reality, they all did, except Leonora, who laughed heartily at the deception she had put upon them, and whispered in her ear as she gave her the last embrace, that she wished her a happy meeting with that saint she went in search of.
To prevent all suspicion of her intention she left her cloaths, and every thing she had brought into the convent, under the care of the abbess, saying, that, at her return, she would have them disposed of, and the money given to the poor: but, unknown to any one except Leonora, she quilted some pieces of gold and valuable trinkets into her undergarment, as not doubting but she should have occasion for much more than, in effect, she was mistress of.
When on her journey, the pleasure she felt at seeing herself out of the walls of the monastery, was very much abated by the uncertainty how she should proceed, or where direct her way: and indeed, let any one figure to themselves the condition she was in, and they will rather wonder she had courage to go on, than that she was sometimes daunted even to despair.--A young creature of little more than eighteen years old,--wholly unacquainted with fatigue,--delicate in her frame,--wandering alone on foot in the midst of a strange country,--ignorant of the road, or had she been acquainted with it, at a loss where to go to get any intelligence of what she sought, and even doubtful if the person she ran such risques to hear of, yet were in the world or not. The letter Leonora had informed her of, gave no account, at least that she could learn, either where he was, or whether there were any hopes of his recovery from that illness it mentioned; she had therefore every thing to dread, and little, very little to hope: yet did she not repent her having quitted the convent; and the desire of getting still farther from it, made her prosecute her journey with greater strength and vigour than could have been expected: her pilgrim's habit was not only a defence against any insults from persons she met on the road, but also attracted the respect, and engaged the civilities of every one.--As that country abounds with religious houses, she was not only lodged and fed without any expence, but received a piece of money at each of them she went to, so that her little stock, instead of being diminished, was considerably increased when she came to Lorretto, for thither, not to be false in every thing, she went; and being truly sorry for the hypocrisy which a sad necessity alone could have made her guilty of, paid her devotion with a sincere heart, tho' free from that enthusiasm and bigotry which is too much practised in convents.
From Lorretto she crossed the country to Florence, every one being ready to direct a holy pilgrim on her way, and assist her with all things necessary. As she went very easy journeys, never exceeding four or five miles a day, she easily supported the fatigue; and had she been certain at last of seeing du Plessis, it would have been rather a pleasure to her; but her mind suffered much more than her body during this pilgrimage, which she continued in the same manner she had begun till she reached Leghorn, where a ship lying at anchor, and expecting to sail in a few days for Marseilles, she agreed to give a small matter for her passage, the sea-faring-men not paying altogether so much regard to her habit, as the land ones had done.
No ill accident intervening, the vessel came safely into her desired port, and Louisa now found herself in the native country of the only person who engrossed her thoughts: as she had heard him say he was of Paris, she supposed that the most likely place to hear news of him, but was in some debate within herself whether she should continue to wear her pilgrim's habit, or provide herself with other cloaths at Marseilles. She was weary of this mendicant way of travelling, and could have been glad to have exchanged it for one more agreeable to the manner in which she had been accustomed; but then, when she considered how great a protection the appearance she made, had been from all those insults, to which a person of her sex and age must otherwise infallibly have been exposed in travelling alone, she resolved not to throw it off till she came to the place where she intended to take up her abode, at least for some time. Young as she was, she had well weighed what course to take in case du Plessis should either be dead, or, by some accident, removed where she could hear nothing more of him; and all countries and parts being now equal to her, as she must then be reduced once more to get her bread by her labour, she doubted not but to find encouragement for her industry as well in Paris as elsewhere.
With this resolution, therefore, after laying one night at Marseilles, she proceeded on her way in the same fashion as she had done ever since she left Bolognia, and in about six weeks got safely to that great and opulent city, where she took up her lodging at a hotel, extremely fatigued, as it is easy to believe, having never even for one day ceased walking, but while she was on board the ship which brought her to Marseilles, for the space of eight months; a thing almost incredible, and what perhaps no woman, but herself, would have had courage to undertake, or resolution to perform, but was, in her circumstances, infinitely the most safe and expedient that prudence could suggest.
CHAP. XXIII.
Shews by what means Louisa came to the knowledge of her parents, with other occurrences.
The first thing she did on her arrival, was to send for proper persons to equip her in a manner that she might once more appear herself, resolving that till she could do so, not to be seen in the streets.
While these things were preparing, she sent a person, whom the people of the house recommended to her, to the palace of the prince of Conti, not doubting but that some of the gentlemen belonging to his highness might give some intelligence where monsieur du Plessis was to be found; but the messenger returned without any other information, than that they knew him very well, but could give no directions in what part he was at present, he not having been seen in Paris for a long time.
It is hard to say whether she most rejoiced or grieved at this account: she imagined that had he been dead they would not have been ignorant of it, therefore concluded him living to her infinite satisfaction; but then his absenting himself from the capital of the kingdom, and from the presence of a prince who had so much loved him, filled her with an adequate disquiet, as believing some very ill accident must have been the occasion:--she dispatched the same person afterwards to all the public places that she heard gentlemen frequented, but met not with the least success in her enquiries. It would prolong this narrative to a tedious length, should I attempt any description of what she felt in this situation, or the reflections she made on the odd circumstances of her life:--the greatness of her spirit, and the most perfect resignation to the divine will, however, made her support even this last and severest trial with fortitude and patience; and as soon as she had put herself into a convenient neat garb, but plain, befitting her condition, she went out with a design to take a private lodging, where she might live more cheaply than she could at the hotel, till providence should throw some person in the way that might recommend her either to work, or to teach young ladies music.
She was wandering thro' several of the streets of Paris, without being able, as yet, to find such a chamber as she wanted, when a great shower of rain happening to fall, she stood up under the porch of a large house for shelter till it should be over, which it was not for a considerable time;