CHAP. XXV.

_Monsieur du Plessis arrives at Paris: his reception from Dorilaus and

Louisa: the marriage of these lovers agreed upon_.

The innocent pleasure Louisa felt in picturing to herself the extacy

which du Plessis would be in at the receipt of her letter, was not a

flattering idea:--to know she was in Paris, where, in all probability,

she had come to seek him, and to have the intelligence of it from

herself, had all the effect on him that the most raptured fancy

can invent.

His orders to madam d' Espargnes being punctually complied with, his

bills of exchange also came soon after to hand; and the little hurts he

had received from the robbers, as well as those of his mind, being

perfectly healed, he set out with a lover's expedition, and arrived in

Paris to the pleasing surprize of a sister who tenderly loved him, and

expected not this satisfaction of a long time.

He took but one night's repose before he enquired concerning Dorilaus,

and was told that he was a person of quality in England; but, on some

disgust he had received in his native country, was come to settle in

France. As Louisa was extremely admired, they told him also that he had

a very beautiful daughter, of whom he was extremely fond. This last

information gave not a little ease to the mind of him who heard it, and

dissipated those apprehensions which the high character they gave of

Dorilaus had, in spite of himself, excited in him: he now imagined that

as they were English, his Louisa might possibly have been acquainted

with the daughter of this gentleman in their own country, and meeting

her at Paris, might have put herself under her protection.

Full of those impatiencies which are inseparable from a sincere passion,

he borrowed his sister's chariot, and went to the Fauxbourg St.

Germains; and being told one of the best houses in the place was that of

Dorilaus, he asked for mademoiselle Louisa, on which he was desired to

alight, and shewed into a handsome parlour while a servant went in to

inform her: after this, he was ushered up stairs into a room, the

furniture of which shewed the elegance of the owner's taste; but

accustomed to every thing that was great and magnificent, the gilded

scenes, the rich tapestry, the pictures, had no effect on him, till

casting his eyes on one that hung over the chimney, he found the exact

resemblance of the dear object never absent from his heart.--It was

indeed the picture of Louisa, which her father, soon after her arrival,

had caused to be drawn by one of the best painters at that time in

Paris. This sight gave him a double pleasure, because it, in some

measure, anticipated that of the original, and also convinced him that

she was not indifferent to the person she was with.

He was fixed in contemplation on this delightful copy, when the original

appeared in all the advantages that jewels and rich dress could give

her.--Tho' he loved her only for herself, and nothing could add to the

sincere respect his heart had always paid her, yet to see her so

different from what he expected, filled him with a surprize and a kind

of enforced awe, which hindered him from giving that loose to his

transports, which, after so long an absence, might have been very

excusable;--and he could only say--my dear adorable Louisa, am I so

blessed to see you once more!--She met his embrace half way, and

replied, monsieur du Plessis, heaven has given me all I had to wish in

restoring to me so faithful a friend;--but come, continued she, permit

me to lead you to a father, who longs to embrace the protector of his

daughter's innocence. Your father, madam! cried he; yes, answered she;

in seeking a lover at Paris I found a father; Dorilaus is my father:--I

have acquainted him with all the particulars of our story, and, I

believe, the sincere affection I have for you will not be less pleasing

for receiving his sanction to it.

With these words she took his hand and led him, all astonishment, into

an inner room where Dorilaus was sitting, who rose to meet him with the

greatest politeness, and which shewed that to be master of, it was not

necessary to be born in France; and on Louisa's acquainting him with the

name of the person she presented, embraced him with the tenderness of a

father, and made him such obliging and affectionate compliments, as

confirmed to the transported du Plessis the character had been given

of him.

After the utmost testimonies of respect on both side, Dorilaus told his

daughter she ought to make her excuses to monsieur for having eloped

from the monastry where he had been so good to place her, which, said

he, I think you can do in no better a manner than by telling the truth,

and as I am already sufficiently acquainted with the whole, will leave

you to relate it, while I dispatch a little business that at present

calls me hence. He went out of the room in speaking this, and Louisa had

a more full opportunity of informing her lover of all she had suffered

since their parting, till this happy change in her fortune, than she

could have had in the presence of her father, tho' no stranger to her

most inmost thoughts on this occasion.

The pleasing story of her pilgrimage rehearsed, how did the charmed du

Plessis pity and applaud, by turns, her sufferings and fortitude!--How

exclaim against the treachery of the abbess, and those of the nuns who

were in confederacy with her! But his curiosity satisfied in this point,

another rose instantly in his mind, that being the daughter of such a

person as Dorilaus, wherefore she had made so great a secret of it, and

what reason had occasioned her being on the terms she was with Melanthe.

He no sooner expressed his wonder on these heads, than, having before

her father's permission to do so, she resolved to leave him in no

suspence on any score relating to her affairs.

Tho', said she blushing, I cannot reveal the history of my birth without

laying open the errors of those to whom I owe my being, yet I shall not

think the sacrifice too great to recompence the obligations you have

laid upon me; and then proceeded to acquaint him with every thing

relating to her parents, as well as to herself, from the first moment

she was found in the garden of Dorilaus.

It is not to be doubted but that he listened to the story with the

utmost attention, in which he found such matters of admiration, that he

could not forbear frequently interrupting her, by crying, Oh heaven! oh

providence! how mysterious are thy ways!--How, in thy disposal of

things, dost thou force us to acknowledge thy divine power and wisdom!

He was also extremely pleased to find she was the sister of Horatio,

whom he had often been in company with both at the baron de la Valeire's

and at St. Germains, and had admired for the many extraordinary

qualities he discovered in him: this led them into a conversation

concerning that young gentleman, and the misfortunes which some late

news-paper gave an account were beginning to fall upon the king of

Sweden; after that, renewing the subject of their mutual affection, and

du Plessis running over the particulars of their acquaintance in Italy,

Louisa asked whether the count de Bellfleur had ever testified any

remorse for the injury he would have offered her, and in what manner

they had lived together in the army? To which monsieur du Plessis

replied, that the authority of the prince had prevented him from

attempting any open acts of violence; but that by his manner of

behaviour it was easy to see he had not forgiven the disappointment; and

he verily believed wanted only a convenient opportunity to revenge it:

but, continued he, whatever his designs were, heaven put a stop to the

execution of them; for, in the first skirmish that happened between us

and the forces of prince Eugene, this once gay, gallant courtier, had

his head taken off by a cannon ball.

The gentle Louisa could not forbear expressing some concern for the

sudden fate of this bad man, greatly as she had been affronted by him;

but when she reflected that the same accident might have befallen her

dear du Plessis, she was all dissolved in tears.

They were in this tender communication when Dorilaus returned leading

the countess d'Espargnes in one hand, and mademoiselle de Palfoy in the

other. Monsieur du Plessis was surprized to meet his sister in a place

where he knew not she was acquainted, and she no less to find him there.

The occasion of it was this:

Dorilaus, when he left the lovers together, went directly to the baron

de Palfoy's, and related to him and to mademoiselle the whole history of

monsieur du Plessis and Louisa; on which they contriv'd to make a

pleasant scene, by engaging the countess d'Espargnes to go with them to

Dorilaus's, without letting her know on what account.--The event

answered their wishes; madam d' Espargnes rallied her brother on finding

him alone with so beautiful a young lady; and mademoiselle Charlotta,

for his inconstancy to his mistress at Bolognia: but when the riddle was

solved, and the countess came to know that the lady left in the

monastery and Louisa were the same, she no longer condemned an

attachment which before had given her so much pain.

Mademoiselle Charlotta chid her for the reserve she had maintained to

her in this affair, especially, said she, as you were obliged to the

conversation you had with madam d'Espargnes in my apartment, that you

received any intelligence of monsieur du Plessis, or knew how to direct

your commands to him to return.

That, madam, is an obligation lies wholly on me, said monsieur du

Plessis; and I believe I shall find it very difficult to requite it, any

more than I shall to deserve my sister's pardon, for so industriously

endeavouring to conceal from her the secret of my passion and

its object.

Louisa told the ladies that she now hoped they would excuse the disorder

she had been in at the countess's discourse, since they knew the

motive:--a good deal of pleasantry passed between this agreeable

company; and as they were in the midst of it, the baron de Palfoy, who

had been hindered from accompanying Dorilaus, when he conducted the

ladies, now joined them; and tho' he was considerably older than any

there, was no less entertaining and good-humoured than the youngest.

Dorilaus had privately ordered a very magnificent collation, which being

served up, Louisa did the honours of the table with so good a grace,

that madam d' Espargnes was charmed with her, and took an opportunity of

asking Dorilaus when she might hope the happiness of calling so amiable

a lady by the name of sister. Du Plessis thanked her for the interest

she took in his affairs; and the baron de Palfoy added, that as the

lovers wanted no farther proofs how worthy they were of each other, he

would join in solliciting for a completion of their happiness. To which

Dorilaus replied, that he was too well satisfied with his daughter's

conduct, not to leave her entirely at her own disposal; and as to what

related to fortune and settlement, he should be ready to enter into such

articles as, he believed, monsieur du Plessis would have no reason to

complain of.

The passionate lover at these words cried out, that it was Louisa's self

alone he was ambitious of possessing; nor had either that lady or her

father any room to look on what he said as a mere compliment, because

his love had long since waved all the seeming disproportion

between them.

In fine, not only at this time, but every day, almost every hour, was

Louisa, as it now depended wholly on herself, importuned by her lover

and the countess d'Espargnes to render his happiness complete; but she

still delayed it, desiring to hear some news of Horatio, the baron de

Palfoy having settled every thing with Dorilaus concerning his marriage

with mademoiselle Charlotta, she was willing, she said, that as they

were born on the same day, their nuptials should be also celebrated at

the same time.

Monsieur du Plessis was obliged to content himself with this since he

could obtain no more; and for a time every thing passed smoothly and

agreeably on; but news after news continually arriving of the king of

Sweden's ill success in Ukrania, rendered all the noble friends of

Horatio extremely dissatisfied:--the public accounts were too deficient

for their information of any particular officer, and as there were very

few French in the Swedish army, they could hope for no intelligence of

him but from himself; which, as he omitted giving, they at last

concluded he was either killed or taken prisoner; which last misfortune

they looked upon as equal with the former:--the Russian barbarity, and

their manner of treating those whom the chance of war threw into their

hands, was no secret thro' all Europe; and whichever of these accidents

had happened, must be very grievous to a gentleman of Dorilaus's

disposition, who, when unknowing he was his son, loved him with more

tenderness than many fathers do their offspring, but now convinced not

only that he was so, but also that he was possessed of such amiable

qualities as might do honour to the most illustrious race, had fixed an

idea in his mind of such a lasting happiness in having him near him,

that the thoughts of being deprived of him for ever threw him into a

melancholy, which not all the friends he had acquired in Paris, not all

the gaieties of that place, nor the sweet society of the engaging and

dutiful Louisa, had the power to console. So deep was his affliction,

that monsieur du Plessis, amorous and impatient as he was, had not

courage to urge a grant of his own happiness, while those who were to

bestow it, were incapable of sharing any part of it.

Soon after there arrived a thunder-clap indeed:--certain intelligence

that the once victorious Charles was totally overthrown, his whole army

either cut to pieces or taken prisoners, and himself a fugitive in the

grand seignior's dominions.--Dorilaus, now not doubting but the worst he

feared had come to pass, shut himself from all company, and refused the

unavailing comfort of those who came to offer it.--The fair eyes of

Louisa were continually drowned in tears, and the generous du Plessis

sympathized in all her griefs. But what became of mademoiselle Charlotta

de Palfoy! her tender soul, so long accustomed to love Horatio, had not

courage to support the shock of losing him;--losing him at a time when

she thought herself secure of being united to him for ever;--when his

discovered birth had rendered her father's wishes conformable to her

own, and there wanted nothing but his presence to render both their

families completely blessed:--all that excess of love which modesty had

hitherto restrained her from giving any public marks of, now shewed

itself in the violence of her grief and her despair.--She made no secret

of her softest inclinations, and gave a loose to all the impatience of a

ruined love. Even the haughty baron was melted into tears of compassion,

and so far from condemning, that, he attempted all in his power to

alleviate her sorrows.

The Fortunate Foundlings Being the Genuine History of Colonel M——Rs, and His Sister, Madam Du P——Y, the Issue of the Hon. Ch——Es M——Rs, Son of the Late Duke of R—— L——D. Containing Many Wonderful Accidents That Befel Them in Their Travels, and Interspersed with the Characters and Adventures of Several Persons of Condition, In the Most Polite Courts of Europe. the Whole Calculated for the Entertainment and Improvement of the Youth of Both Sexes. · 第 91 / 92 题