_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 the grate: imagining it only an accident, and not knowing
to whom to return it, he put it in his pocket, but was no sooner out of
the chapel than curiosity excited him to see what it contained, which he
had no sooner done than in the first leaf he found these words:
"As I imagine you did not come this long journey
without a desire to see me, it would be too ungrateful
not to assist your endeavours:--come a little before
vespers, and enquire of the portress for mademoiselle
du Pont;--say you are her brother, and leave the rest to me."
There was no name subscribed; but the dear characters, tho' evidently
wrote in haste and with a pencil, which made some alteration in the
fineness of the strokes, convinced him it came from no other than
Charlotta; and never were any hours so tedious to him as those which
past between the receiving this appointment, and that of the
fulfilling it.
At length the wish'd-for time arrived, and he repaired to the gate,
where telling the portress, as he was ordered, that he was the brother
of mademoiselle du Pont, he was immediately brought into the parlour,
where he had not waited long before a young lady appeared behind the
grate: as he found it was not her he expected, he was a little at a
loss, and not without some apprehensions that his imagination had
deceived him: I know not, madame, said he, if chance has not made me
mistaken for some happier person:--I thought to find a sister here.--No,
replied she laughing, Horatio shall find me a sister in my good
offices;--mademoiselle Charlotta will be here immediately;--she has
counterfeited an indisposition to avoid going to vespers, and obtained
permission for me to stay with her;--so that every thing is right, and
as soon as the choir is gone into chapel you will see her. It would be
needless to repeat the transports Horatio uttered on this occasion, so I
shall only say they were such as convinced mademoiselle du Pont, that
her fair friend had not made this condescension to a man ungrateful for,
or insensible of the obligation. He was indeed so lost in them, that he
scarce remembered to pay those compliments to the lady for her generous
assistance which it merited from him; but she easily forgave any
unpoliteness he might be guilty of on that score; and he so well attoned
for it after he had given vent to the sudden emotions of his joy, that
she looked, upon him as the most accomplished, as well as the most
faithful of his sex. They had entered into some discourse of the rules
of the monastry, and how impossible it would have been for him to have
gained an interview with mademoiselle Charlotta, but by the means she
had contrived;--she told him that young lady had seen him for several
days, and not doubling but it was for her sake he came, had resolved to
run any risque rather than he should depart without obtaining so small a
consolation as the sight of her was capable of affording. Horatio, by
the most passionate expressions, testified how dearly he prized what she
had seemed to think of so little value, when the expected charmer of his
soul drew near the grate.--All that can be conceived of tender and
endearing past between them; but when he related to her the occasion of
his coming, and that change of life he now was entering upon, she
listened to him with a mixture of pleasure and anxiety:--she rejoiced
with him on the great prospects he had in view; but the terror of the
dangers he was plunging in was all her own. She was far, however, from
discouraging him in his designs, and concealed not her admiration of the
greatness of his spirit, and that love of glory which seemed to render
him capable of undertaking any thing.
But when she heard in what manner her father had treated him, she was
all astonishment: as she knew his temper perfectly well, she was certain
he would not have acted in the manner he did without being influenced to
it by a very strong liking for Horatio; for tho' gratitude for the good
office he had received at his hands might have engaged him to make some
requital, yet there were several expressions which Horatio, who
remembered all he said, with the utmost exactness repeated to her, that
convinced her he would not have made use of, if he had not meant the
person better than he at present would have him think he did; and that
there was in reality nothing restrained him from making them as happy as
their mutual affection could desire, but the pride of blood and the talk
of the world, which the disparity of their present circumstances would
occasion. As she doubted not but the courage and virtue of Horatio would
remove that impediment, by acquiring a promotion sufficient to
countenance his pretensions, she had now no other disquiet than what
arose from her fears for his safety, which she over and over repeated,
conjuring him, in the most tender terms, not to hazard himself beyond
what the duties of his post obliged him to:--this, said she, shall be
the test of my affection to you; for whenever I hear you run yourself
into unnecessary dangers, I will conclude from that moment you have
ceased to remember, or pay any regard to my injunctions or repose.
Horatio kissed her hand thro' the grate, and told her, he would always
set too great a value on a life she was so good to with the continuance
of, not to take all the care of it that honour would admit; but she
would not give him leave to add any asseverations to this promise,
which, said she, you will every day be tempted to break;--the
enterprizing disposition of the prince you are going to serve, added to
your own sense of glory, will make it very difficult for you not to be
the foremost in following wherever his royal example leads the way:--nor
would I wish you to purchase security by the price of infamy; but as you
go in a manner such as will in all probability place you near his
person, methinks it would be easy for you, by now and then mentioning
the princess Louisa, to rouse in him these soft emotions which might
prevent him from too rashly exposing a life she had so great an
interest in.
How great a pity was it this tender conversation between two persons who
had so pure a passion for each other, who had been absent for some time,
and who knew not when, or whether ever they should meet again, could not
be indulged with no longer continuance! but now mademoiselle du Pont,
who had been so good as to stand at some little distance, while they
entertained each other, as a watch to give them notice of any
interruption, now warned them that they must part:--divine service was
over, and the abbess and nuns were returning from chapel.
Short was the farewel the lovers took; mademoiselle Charlotta had told
him it would be highly improper he should run the hazard of a discovery
by coming there a second time, which would probably incense her father
so much, as to convert all the favourable intentions he now might have
towards them into the reverse, and he was therefore oblig'd to content
himself with printing with his lips the seal of his affection on her
hand, which he had scarce done before, on a second motion by
mademoiselle du Pont, she shot suddenly from the place and went to her
chamber, that no suspicions might arise on her being found so well as to
have been able to quit it.
As he had passed for the brother of mademoiselle du Pont, she stayed
some little time with him: this lady, whom Charlotta in this exigence
had made her confidant, had a great deal of good nature, and seeing the
agony Horatio was in, endeavoured to console him by all the arguments
she thought might have force;--she told him, that in the short time she
had been made partaker of mademoiselle Charlotta's secrets, she had
expressed herself with a tenderness for him, with which he ought to be
satisfied, and that she was convinced nothing would ever be capable of
making the least alteration in her sentiments.
While she was speaking in this manner, Horatio remembered that he had
not given Charlotta her tablet, which he now took out of his pocket, and
with the same pencil she had made use of, and which was fastened to it,
wrote in the next leaf to that she had employed these words;
"I go, most dear, and most adorable Charlotta;
whether to live or die I know not, but which
ever is my portion, the passion I have for you is
rooted in my soul, and will be equally immortal:
life can give no joy but in the hope of being
yours, nor death any terrors but being separated
from you:--O! let nothing ever prevail on
you to forget so perfect an attachment; but in
the midst of all the temptations you may be
surrounded with, think that you have vouch-safed
to encourage my hopes, presuming as they
are, and if once lost to them, what must be the
destiny of