_The reasons that induced Horatio to leave France; with the chevalier
St. George's behaviour on knowing his resolution. He receives an
unexpected favour from the baron de Palfoy._
While Charlotta, under the displeasure of her father, and divided, as
she believed, for ever from her lover, was pursuing her melancholy
journey, Horatio was giving way to a grief which knew no bounds, and
which preyed with the greater feirceness on his soul, as he had no
friend to whom he could disburden it. The baron's estrang'd behaviour
was no small addition to his other discontents, and he lamented the
cruel necessity which had enforced him to disoblige a person to whom he
owed so many favours, and whose advice would now have been the greatest
consolation.
He could not now hope Charlotta would be permitted to come to St.
Germains, and doubted not but her father would take effectual methods to
prevent her visiting at any place where even accident might occasion a
meeting between them: he knew the watch had been set over her on the
account of monsieur de Coigney, and might be assured it would not now be
less strict, and that it would be equally impossible for either to
communicate their thoughts by writing as it was to see each other.
He was in the midst of these reflections when he heard, by some people
who were acquainted with the baron de Palfoy, that he had sent his
daughter away, but none knew where: this, instead of lessening his
despair, was a very great aggravation of it:--he imagined she was
confined in some monastry, and was not insensible of the difficulties
that attend seeing a young lady who is sent there purposely to avoid the
world; yet, said he to himself, could I be happy enough to discover even
to what province she was carried, I would go from convent to convent
till I had found which of them contained her.
It was in vain that he made all possible enquiry: every one he asked was
in reality as ignorant as himself.--The baron de Palfoy had trusted
none, so could not be deceived but by those persons who had the charge
of conducting her, and of their fidelity he had many proofs. Yet how
impossible is it for human prudence to resist the decrees of fate.--The
secret was betrayed, without any one being guilty of accusing the
confidence reposed in them, and by the strangest accident that perhaps
ever was, Horatio learned all he wished to know when he had given over
all his endeavours for that purpose, and was totally despairing of it.
He came one day to Paris, in order to alleviate his melancholy, in the
company of some young gentlemen, who had expressed a very great regard
for him; but his mind being taken up with various and perplexed thoughts
on his entrance into that city, he mistook his way, and turned into the
rue St. Dennis instead of the rue St. Honore, where he had been
accustomed to leave his horses and servant.--He found his error just as
he was passing by a large inn, and it being a matter of indifference to
him where he put up, would not turn back, but ordered his man to alight
here.--I forgot where I was going, said he, but I suppose the horses
will be taken as much care of at this house as where we used to go. I
shall see to that, replied the fellow. Horatio stepped into a room to
take some refreshment while his servant went to the stable, but had not
been there above a minute before he heard very high words between some
people in the yard; and as he turned towards the window, saw a man in
the livery of the baron de Palfoy, and whom he presently knew to be the
coachman of that nobleman. He was hot in dispute with the innkeeper
concerning a horse which he had hired of him, and, as the other
insisted, drove so hard that he had killed him. The coachman denied the
accusation; but the innkeeper told him he had witnesses to prove the
horse died two hours after he was brought home, and declared, that if he
had not satisfaction for his beast, he would complain to the baron, and
if he did not do him justice, have recourse to law.--There was a long
argument between them concerning the number of miles, the hours they
drove, and the weight of the carriage.--Among other things the innkeeper
alledged, that he saw them as he passed his corner, and there were so
many trunks, boxes, and other luggage behind and before the coach,
besides the company that was in it, that it required eight horses
instead of six to draw it. Why then, said the coachman, did it not kill
our horses as well as yours; if they had been equally good, they would
have held out equally.--I do not pretend mine was as good, replied the
innkeeper, I cannot afford to feed my horses as my lord does; but yet he
was a stout gelding, and if he had not been drove so very hard, and
perhaps otherwise ill used into the bargain, he would have been
alive now.
All this was sufficient to make Horatio imagine it was for the journey
which deprived him of his dear Charlotta, that this horse had been
hired, so tarried in the place where he was till the debate was over,
which ended not to the satisfaction of the innkeeper, who swore he would
not be fooled out of his money. As soon as the coachman was gone,
Horatio called him in, and asked what was the matter, and who it was
that endeavoured to impose upon him? on which the innkeeper readily told
him, that on such a day this coachman came to him and hired a horse in
order to make up a set to go to Rheines in Champaigne, my lord-baron
having three or four sick in the stable at that time.--Two days after,
said he, my horse was brought home all in a foam, and fell down dead in
less than three hours, and yet this rascally coachman refuses to pay
me for him.
Horatio humoured him in all he said, and let him go on his own way till
he had vented his whole stock of railing, and then asked him what
company were in the coach. The innkeeper replied, that there was one man
and two women, but did not know who they were, for their faces were
muffled up in their hoods. This was sufficient for him to be assured it
was no other than Charlotta, with her woman, and some friend whom the
baron had sent with them. The day mentioned, being the very same he had
been informed she was carried away, was also another confirmation; and
he had not only the happiness of knowing where his mistress was, but of
knowing it by such means as could give the baron no suspicion of his
being acquainted with it, and therefore make him think it necessary to
remove her.
Having gained this intelligence, which yet he was no better for than the
hope of being able to get a sight of her thro' the grate, which he was
resolved to accomplish some way or other, he resumed his design of going
into the army of the king of Sweden. As a perfect knowledge of the many
excellent qualities of the chevalier St. George, made him regard and
love him with an affection beyond what is ordinarily to be met with from
a servant to his master, he felt an extreme repugnance to quit him, and
yet more in breaking a matter to him which, while it testified a
confidence in the goodness of him whose assistance he must implore, he
thought, at the same time, would be looked on as ingratitude in himself;
and he was some time deliberating in what manner he should do it; and it
would have been perhaps a great while before he could have found words
which he would have thought proper for the purpose, if he had not taken
an opportunity, which, without any design of his own, offered itself
to him.
The chevalier St. George took a particular pleasure in the game of
Chess; and Horatio having learned it among the officers in Campaine,
frequently played with him: they were one evening at this diversion,
when the lover of Charlotta having his mind a little perplexed, placed
his men so ill, that the chevalier beat him out at every motion. How is
this, Horatio, cried he; you used to play better than I, butt now I have
the advantage of you.--May you always have it, sir, replied he with the
utmost respect, over all who pretend to oppose you.--Chess is a kind of
emblem of war, where policy should go hand in hand with courage; and
there is a great master in that art, whom if I were some time to serve
under, I flatter myself that I should be able to know how to move my men
with better success than I have done to night; but then my skill should
be employed only against such as are your enemies.
You mean my brother Charles of Sweden, said the chevalier smiling, but I
believe he seldom plays. Never, but when kingdoms are at stake, resumed
Horatio; and if a day should come when you, sir, shall attempt the
prize, how fortunate would it be for me to have learned to serve you as
I am obliged by much more than my duty, by the most natural and
inviolable attachment of my heart, which would render it the greatest
blessing I could receive from heaven. I believe, indeed, returned the
chevalier St. George, you love me enough to fight in my cause whenever
occasion offers. I would not only fight, but die, cried Horatio warmly;
yet I would wish to have the skill to make a great number of your
enemies die before me. Well, said the chevalier, we will talk of this
to-morrow; in the mean time play as well as you can against me at St.
Germains: in another place perhaps you may play for me. Horatio made no
other reply to these words than a low bow, and then elating his hands
and eyes to heaven, as internally praying for the opportunity his master
seemed to hint at.
The impression this little conversation made on the mind of the
chevalier St. George, proved itself in its effects the very next day.
Horatio being ordered to come into his chamber early in the morning,--I
have been thinking on what passed last night between us, said he, and if
you have a serious Intention of doing what you seemed to hint at, will
contribute all I can to forward you.
Ah sir! cried Horatio, falling at his feet, impute not, I beseech you,
this desire in me to any thing but the extreme desire I have to render
myself worthy of the favours you have been pleased to confer upon me,
and to be able to serve you whenever any happy occasion shall
present itself.
No more, Horatio, replied the chevalier, with a sweetness and affability
peculiar to himself; I am perfectly assured of your duty and affection
to me, and am so far from taking it ill that you desire to quit my court
on this score, that I think, your ambition highly laudable:--I will
write letters of recommendation, with my own hand, to my brother
Charles, and to some others in his camp, which I doubt not but will
procure you a reception answerable to your wishes:--therefore, as it is
a long journey you are to take, the sooner you provide for your
departure the better:--I will order you out of my privy purse 2000
crowns towards your expences.
Horatio found it impossible to express how much this goodness touched
his soul; nor could do it any otherwise than by prostrating himself a
second time, embracing his knees, and uttering some incoherent
acclamations, which more shewed to his master the sincerity of his
gratitude, and the perfect love he bore him, than the most elegant
speeches could have done.
After all possible demonstrations of the most gracious benignity on the
one side, and reverence on the other, Horatio quitted the presence, and
went to sir Thomas Higgons, who at that time was privy purse, and one of
the finest gentlemen that ever England bred, and acquainted him with the
chevalier St. George's goodness to him, and the change that was going to
be made in his fortune: he thanked him in the politest manner for being
made the first that should congratulate him, and told him, he did not
doubt but he should see him return covered with laurels, and enriched
with honours, by the most glorious and grateful monarch the world had to
boast of. The whole court, whose esteem the good qualities, handsome
person, and agreeable behaviour of Horatio had entirely gained, seemed
to partake in his satisfaction, and he was so engrossed with the
preparations for his departure, and receiving the compliments made him,
that tho' he was far from forgetting Charlotta, yet the languishment
which her absence had occasioned was entirely banished, and he now
appeared all life and spirit.--So true it is that idleness is the food
of soft desires.
It must be confessed, indeed, that love had a very great share in
reviving in him those martial inclinations, which for a time had seemed
lulled to rest, since it was to render himself in a condition which
might give him hope of obtaining the object of his love that now pushed
him on to war. He resolved also to make Rheines in his way to Poland,
where the king of Sweden then was pursuing his conquests, and see, if
possible, his dear Charlotta, before he left France; and as he was of a
more than ordinary sanguine disposition, he was much sooner elated with
the prospect of success in any undertaking he went about, than dejected
at the disappointment of it.
The baron de la Valiere, whose friendship over-balanced his resentment,
now gave an instance of his generosity, which, as things had stood of
late between them, Horatio was far from expecting. That nobleman came to
his apartment one day with a letter in his hand, and accosting him with
the familiarity he had been accustomed to treat him with before their
estrangement,--Horatio, said he, I cannot suffer you to leave us without
giving you what testimonies of good-will are in my power:--you are now
going among strangers, and tho' after the recommendations I hear you are
to carry with you from the chevalier St. George, nothing can be added to
assure you of the king of Sweden's favour, yet as many brave actions are
lost for want of a proper representation of them, and the eyes of kings
cannot be every where, it may be of some service to you to have general
Renchild your friend: I once had the honour of a particular acquaintance
with that great man, and I believe this letter, which I beg the favour
of you to deliver to him, will in part convince him of your merit,
before you may have an opportunity of proving it to him by your actions.
Horatio took the letter out of his hand, which he had presented to him
at the conclusion of his speech; and charmed with this behaviour, the
satisfaction I should take, said he, in this mark of your forgiving
goodness, would be beyond all bounds, were I not conscious how far I
have been unworthy of it; and that I fear the same goodness, always
partial to me, may have in this paper (meaning the letter) endeavoured
to give the general an idea of me which I may not be able to preserve.
I look upon myself to be the best judge of that, replied the baron with
a smile; and you may remember, that on a very different occasion I saw
into your sentiments before you were well acquainted with the nature of
them yourself.
As Horatio knew these words referred to the discourse that had passed
between them concerning his then infant passion for mademoiselle
Charlotta, he could not help blushing; but de la Valiere perceiving he
had given him some confusion, would have turned the discourse, had not
the other thought fit to continue it, by letting him know the real
motive which had constrained him to act with the reserve he had done on
that score.
The baron de la Valiere assured him that he should think no more of it;
and tho' at first he had taken it a little amiss, yet when he came to
reflect on the circumstance, he could not but confess he should have
behaved in the same manner himself.
The renewal of the former friendship between them, greatly added to the
contentment Horatio at present enjoyed; but soon after he received such
an augmentation of it, as he could never have imagined, much less have
flattered himself with the hope of.
Some few days before his departure, a servant of the baron de Palfoy
came to him to let him know his lord sent his compliments, and desired
to speak with him at his own house. The message seemed so improbable,
that Horatio could scarce give credit to it, and imagined the man had
been mistaken in the person to whom he delivered it, till he repeated
over and over again that it was to no other he was sent.
Had it been any other than the father of mademoiselle Charlotta, who had
invited him to a house he had been once forbid, he scarce would have
obeyed the summons; but as it was he, the awful person who gave being to
that charmer of his soul, he sent the most respectful answer, and the
same day took horse for Paris, and attended the explanation of an order
which at present seemed so misterious to him.
The baron was no sooner informed he was there, than he came into the
parlour with a countenance, which had in it all the marks of good humour
and satisfaction; Horatio, said he, after having made him seat himself,
I doubt not but you think me your enemy, after the treatment I gave you
the last time you were here; but I assure you, I suffered no less myself
in forbidding you my house, than you could do in having what you might
think an affront put upon you:--but, continued he after a pause, you
ought to consider I am a father, that Charlotta is my only child, that
my whole estate, and what is of infinite more consideration with me, the
honour of my family, must all devolve on her, and that I am under
obligations not to be dispensed with, to dispose of her in such a manner
as shall not any way degrade the 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.