UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA
AT LOS ANGELES
THE
Romance of the Foreft
INTERSPERSED WITH
SOME PIECES OF POETRY.
^
" Ere the bat hath flown
" His cloifter'd flight; ere to black Hecate's fummons,
" The fhard-born beetle, with his drowfy hums,
" Hath rung night's yawning peal, there fhall be done
" A deed of dreadful note."
IN THREE VOLUMES.
VOL. I.
THE THIRD EDITION.
BY ANN RADCLIFFE,
AUTHOR OF
A SICILIAN ROMANCE," &c.
LONDON:
PRINTED FOR T. HOOKHAM AND J. CARPENTER,
NEW AND OLD BOND STREET,
M,DCC,XCII.
119372
ADVERTISEMENT.
IT is proper to mention that fome of the little
' Poems inferted in the following Pages have ap-
peared, by penniffion of the Author, in the GA-
ZETTEER.
'
-PR
DEDICATION.
TO HER GRACE
THE
DUCHESS OF LEEDS.
MADAM,
JL AM too grateful for trie ho-
nour of being permitted to
VOL. i. a fay
' . [ iv ]
fay that this work has Your
GRACE'S approbation, to mif-
ufe the opportunity now of-
fered me of addreffing you>
by praife, which it would be
prefumption in me to offer,
and which it is the privilege
of Your GRACE'S merits to
difdain-
Rather let me rejoice that
the attention given in the fol-
lowing pages, to the caufe of
morality.
t v ]
morality, has induced you to
overlook the weaknefs of my
endeavours to fupport it.
I am
Obedient humble Servant,
ANN RADCLIFFE.
T H X
j
ROMANCE
O F T H E
FOREST.
CHAPTER I.
** I am a man,
" So weary with difalters, tugg'd with fortune,
" That I would fet my life on any chance,
" To mend it, or be rid on't."
KING JOHN.
" \\7
W HEN once fordid intcreft feizes
" on the heart, it freezes up the fource of
" every warm and liberal feeling; it is an
" enemy alike to virtue and to tafte this
" it perverts, and that it annihilates. The
A 2 c time
[ 4 ]
" time may come, my friend, when Death
" fliall diffblve the finews of Avarice, and
" Juftice be permitted to refume her
" rights."
Such were the words of the Advocate
Nemours to Pierre de la Motte, as the
latter flept at midnight into the carriage
which was to bear him far from Paris,
from his creditors and the perfecution of
the laws. De la Motte thanked him for
this laft inftance of his kindnefs, the af-
fiftance he had given him in efcape,
and, when the carriage drove away, ut-
tered a fad adieu ! The gloom of the
hour, and the peculiar emergency of
his circumftances, funk him in filent re-
verie.
Whoever has read Guyot de Pitaval,
the moft faithful of thofc writers who re-
cord the proceedings in the Parliamen-
tary Courts of Paris, during the feven-
teenth century, muft furely remember
the ftriking (lory of Pierre de la Motte,
and the Marquis Philippe de Montalt :
let
C 5 ]
let all fuch, therefore, be informed, that
the perfon here introduced to their notice
was that individual Pierre de la Motte.
As Madame de la Motte leaned from
the coach window, and gave a laft look
to the walls of Paris Paris, the fcene of
her former happinefs, and the refidence
of many dear friends the fortitude,
which had till now fupported her, yielded
to the force of grief. " Farewell all !"
fighed fhe, " this laft look and we are
" feparated forever !" Tears followed
her words, and, finking back, fhe re-
figned herfelf to the ftillnefs of forrow.
The recollection of former times prefled
heavily upon her heart : a few months
before, and fhe was furrounded by friends,
fortune, and confequence ; now, Ihe was
deprived of all, a miferable exile from
her native place, without home, without
comfort almoft without hope. Tt was
not the leafl of her afflidtions that fhe had
been obliged to quit Paris without bid-
ding adieu to her only fon, who was now
A3 on
on duty with his regiment in Germany :
and fuch had been the precipitancy of
this removal, that had flie even known
where he was ilationed, (he had no time
to inform him of it, or of the alteration
in his father's circumftances.
I Pieire de la Motte was ?. gentleman de-
fcended from an ancient houfe of France.
He was a man whofe paffions often over-
came his reafon, and, for a time, filen-
ced his confcience ; but, though the
image of virtue, which Nature had im-
prefled upon his heart, was fometimes
obfcured by the paffing influence of vice,
it was never wholly obliterated. With
ftrength of mind fufficient to have with-
(lood temptation, he would have been a
good man; as it was, he was always a
weak, and fometimes a vicious member
of fociety : yet his mind was aflive, and
his imagination vivid, which, co opera-
ting with the force of paffion, often daz-
zled his judgment and fubdued prin-
ciple. Thus he was a man, infirm in
pur-
C 7 ]
purpole and vifionary in virtue : in a
word, his conduct was fuggefted by feel-
ing, rather than principle ; and his vir-
tue, fuch as it was, could not ftand th<
preifure of occafion.
Early in life he had married Conftance
Valentia, a beautiful and elegant woman,
attached to her family and beloved by
them. Her birth was equal, her fortune
fuperior to his; and their nuptials had
been celebrated under the aufpices of an
approving and flattering world. Her
heart was devoted to La Motte, and, for
fome time, (lie found in him an affec-
tionate hufband; but, allured by the
gaieties of Paris, he was foon devoted to
its luxuries, and in a few years his for-
tune and affection were equally loft in
diffipation. A falfe pride had ftill ope-
rated againft his intereft, and withheld
him from honourable retreat while it was
yet in his. power: the habits which
he had acquired, enchained him to the
fctne of his former pleafure ; and thus
A 4 he
C 8 ]
he had continued an expenfive ftile of
life till the means of prolonging it were
exhaufted. He at length awoke from
this lethargy of fecurity ; but it was only
to plunge into new error, and to attempt
fchemes for the reparation of his fortune,
which ferved to fink him deeper in de-
ftruction. The confequence of a iranf-
aclion, in which he thus engaged, now
drove him, with the fmall wreck of his
property, into dangerous and ignomi-
nious exile.
It was his defign to pafs into one of
the Southern Provinces, and there feek,
near the borders of the kingdom, an
afylum in fome obfcure village. His
family confifted of his wife, and two
faithful domeftics, a man and woman,
who followed the fortunes of their
matter.
The night was dark and tempeftuous,
and, at about the diftance of three
leagues from Paris, Peter, who now a&ed
as poiVillion, having drove for fome time
*H over
[ 9 ]
over a wild heath where many ways
crofled, flopped, and acquainted De la
Motte with his perplexity. The fudden
flopping of the carriage roufed the latter
from his reverie, and filled the whole
party with the terror of purfuit ; he was
unable to fupply the necefTary direction,
and the extreme darknefs made it dan-
gerous to proceed without one. During
this period of diftrefs, a light was per-
ceived at fome diftance, and after much
doubt and hefitation, La Motte, in the
hope of obtaining affiftance, alighted
and advanced towards it ; he proceeded
fljwly, from the fear of unknown pits.
The light iffued from the window of a
fmall and ancient houfe, which flood
alone on the heath, at the diftance of half
a mile.
Having reached the door, he flopped
for fome moments, liftcning in apprehen-
five anxiety no found was heard but
that of the wind, which fwept in hollow
gufts over the wafte. At length he ven-
A 5 tured
t ] ,
mred to knock, and, having waited
fome time, during which he indiftinctly
heard feveral voices in converfation,
fome One within inquired what he
wanted? La Motte anfwered, that he
was a traveller who had loft his way, and
defired to be directed to the neareft town.
" Thar," faid the perfon, " is feven
" miles off, and the road bad enough,
" even if you could fee it; if you only
" want a bed, you may have it hcrcj
" and had better flay."
The " pitilefs pelting" of the ft'orm,
which, at this time, beat with increafing
fury upon La Motte, inclined him to
give up the attempt of proceeding far-
ther till day-light; but, defirous of fee-
ing the perfon with whom he converfed,
before he ventured to expofe his family
by calling up the carriage, he aiked to
be admitted. The door was novv opened
by a tall figure with a light, who invited
La Motte to enter. He followed the
man through a paffage into a room al-
moil
r " ]
moft unfurnifhed, in one corner of which
a bed was fpread upon the fioor. The
forlorn and delblate afpedl of this apart-
ment made La Motte (brink involun-
tarily, and he was turning to go out
when the man fuddenly pufhed him
back, and he heard the door locked
upon him : his heart failed, yet he made
a -dcfperate, though vain, effort to force
the door, and called loudly for releafe.
No anfwer was returned ; but he diflin-
guiflied the voices of men in the room
above, and, not doubting but their inten-
tion was to rob and murder him, his agita-
tion, at firft, nearly overcame his reafon.
By the light of feme alrnoft expiring em-
bers, he perceived a window, but the
hope which this difcovery revived, was,
quickly loft, when he found the aperture
guarded by ftrong iron bars. Such pre-
paration for fecurity furprifed him, and
confirmed his vvorlt apprehensions.
Alone, unarmed beyond the chance of
aJliftance, he faw himfelf in the power
A 6 of
C ' ]
of people, whofe trade was apparently
rapine! murder their means! After
revolving every poffibility of efcape, he
endeavoured to await the event with for-
titude ; but La Motte could boaft of no
fuch virtue.
The voices had ceafed, and all re-
mained ftill for a quarter of an hour,
when, between the paufes of the wind,
he thought he diftinguilhed the fobs and
moaning of a female ; he liftened atten-
tively and became confirmed in his con-
jedture ; it was too evidently the accent
of diftrefs. At this conviction, the, re-
mains of his courage forfook him, and a
terrible furmife darted, with the rapidity
of lightning, crofs his brain. It was pro-
bable that his carriage had been difco-
vered by the people of the houfe, who,
with a defign of plunder, had fecured
his fervant, and brought hither Madame
dc la Motte. He was the more inclined
to believe this, by the (lillnefs which had,
for fome time, reigned in the houfe, pre-
vious
[ '3 3
vious to the founds he now heard. Or
it was poflible that the inhabitants were
not robbers, but perfons to whom he had
been betrayed by his friend or fervant,
and who were appointed to deliver him
into the hands of juftice. Yet he hardly
dared to doubt the integrity of his friend,
who had been entrufted with the fecret of
his flight and the plan of his route, and
had procured him the carriage in which
he had efcapcd. " Such depravity,"
exclaimed La Motte, " cannot furely
" exift in human nature; much lefs in
" the heart of Nemours !"
This ejaculation was interrupted by a
noife in the pafTage leading to the room :
it approached the door was unlocked-
and the man who had admitted La Motte
into the houfe entered, leading, or ra-
ther forcibly dragging along, a beautiful
girl, who appeared to be about eighteen.
Her features were bathed in ter.rs, and
Ihe feemed to fuffer the utmoft diftrefs.
The man fattened the lock and put the
4 ke,y
r >4 ]
key in his pocket. He then advanced
to La Motte, who had before obferved
other penons in the paff.ige, and point-
ing a piftol to his breaft, " You are
tf wholly in our power," faid he, " no
" afliftance can reach you : if you wifti
" to fave your !i'e, fvvear that von will
" convey this girl where I m.iy never
" fee her more; or rather conknt to
" take her with you, for your oath I
" would not believe, and I can take
" care you fhall not find me again.
" Anfwer quickly, you have no time to-
" lofe."
He now feized the trembling hand of
the girl, who fhrunk aghaft with terror,
and hurried her rowaids La Motte,.
whom furprize ftiil kept (ilenr. She
funk at his feet, and wi:h fupplicating
eyes, that dreamed wiih teats, implored
him to have pity on her. Notwithftand-
ing his prefcnt agitation, he found it 5m-
poflible to contemplate the beauty and
iliftrefs of theobjccl before him with in-
difTerence.
[ '5 ]
difference. Her youth, her apparent
innocence the artlefs energy of her
manner forcibly affailed his heart, and
he was going to fpcak, when the ruffian,
uho miftook the (ilence of aftonifhment
for that of hefitation, prevented him-
s< I have a horfe ready to uke you from
" hence," fciid he, " and I will direct you
<c over the heath. If you return within
" on hour you die ; after then, you are
" at liberty to come here when you
" pleafe."
La Motte, without anfwcrlng, raifed
the lovely girl from the floor, and was fo
much relieved from his own apprehen-
fions, that he had leifure to attempt dif-
fipating her's. " Let us be gone," luid
the ruffian, " and have no more of this
" nonfenfe ; you may think yourfelf well
" off it's no vvorfe. I'll go and get the
" horfe ready."
The lad words roufed La Motte,
and perplexed him with new fears ;
he dreaded to mention his carriage,
left
C 16 1
left it might tempt the banditti to
plunder ; and to depart on horfeback
with this man might produce a confe-
quence yet more to be dreaded. Ma-
dame La Motte, wearied with apprehen-
fion, would, probably, Tend for her
hufband to the houfe, when all the
former danger would be incurred, with
the additional evil of being feparated
from his family, and the chance of being
detected by the emifTaries of juftice in
endeavouring to recover them. As thefe
reflections pafled over his mind in tu-
multuous rapidity, a noife was again
heard in the paflage, an uproar and fcuffle
enfued, and in the fame moment he
could diftinguim the voice of his fervant,
who had been fent by Madame La Motre
in fearch of him. Being now determined
to~-difclofe what could not long be con-
cealed, he exclaimed aloud, that a horfe
was unnecefiary, that he had a carriage
at fome diftance which would convey
them
t '7 3
them from the heath, and dechred the
man, who was feized, to be his fervanu
The ruffian, fpeaking through the
door, bid him be patient awhile, and he
fhould hear more from him. La Motte
now turned his eyes upon his unfortunate
companion, who, pale and exhaufted,
leaned for fupport againft the wall. Her
features, which were delicately beautiful,
had gained from diftrefs an expreffion of
captivating fweetnefs : Ihe had
" An eye,
44 As when the blue flcy trembles thro* a cloud'
Of pureft white."
A habit of grey camlet, with fhort
flaflied fleeves, fhewed, but did not
adorn, her figure ; it was thrown open
at the bofom, upon which part of her
hair had fallen in diforder, while the
light veil haftily thrown on, had, in her
confufion, been fuffered to fall ba^k.
Every moment of farther obfervation.
heightened the furprize of La Motte, and
inte-
C rS ]
jnterefted him more warmly in her fa-
vour. Such elegance and apparent re-
finement, contrafted with the defolation
of the houfe, and the favage manners of
its inhabitants, feemed to him like-a ro-
mance of imagination, rather than an oc-
currence of real life. He endeavoured to
comfort her, and his fenle of companion
was too fincere to be mifunderftood.
Her terror gradually fubfided into grati-
tude and grief. " Ah, Sir !" faid me,
" Heaven has fent you to my relief, and
" will furely reward you for your pro-
" tedtion : I have no friend in the
" world, if I do not find one in you."
La Motte allured her of his kindnefa,
\*hen he was interrupted by the entrance
of the ruffian. He defired to be con-
ducted to his family. " All in good
" time," replied the latter; " 1 have
" taken care of one of them, and will
" of you, pleafe Sc. Peter ; fo be com-
" forted." Thefe comfortable words re-
newed the terror of La Matte, who
now
[ '9 ]
now earneflly begged to know if his fa-
mily were fafe. " O ! as for that mat-
" ter they are fafe enough, and you will
" be with them prefently ; but don't
' Rand partying here all night. Do you
*' chufe to go or ftay ? you know the
" conditions/* They now bound the
eyes of La Motte and of the young lady,
whom terror had hitherto kept lilent,
and then placing them on two horfes, a
man mounted behind each, and they im-
mediately gallopped off. They had
proceeded in this way near half an
hour, when La Motte entreated to
know whither he was going ; " You
" will know that by and bye," fa id the
ruffian, " fo be at peace. " Finding in-
terrogatories ufelefs, La Motte refumed
filence till the horfes flopped. His con-
ductor then hollooed, and being an-
'fwercd by voices at fome diftance, in a
few moments the found of carriage
wheels was heard, and, prefently after,
the words of a man directing Peter which
way
[ 20 ]
way to drive. As the carriage ap-
proached, La Motte called, and to his
inexpreffible joy, was anfwered by his
wife. *
" You arc now beyond the borders
"" of the heath, and may go which way
" you will, " faid the ruffian ; " if you
" return within an hour, you will be
" welcomed by a brace of bullets."
This was a very unneceflary caution to
La Motte, whom they now releafed.
The young ftranger fighed deeply, as
fhe entered the carriage ; and the ruffians,
having bellowed upon Peter fome direc-
tions and more threats, waited to fee him
drive ofiv They did not wait long.
La Motte immediately gave a fhort
relation of what had pafled at the houfe,
including an account of the manner in
which the young ftranger had been in-
troduced to him. During this narrative,
her deep convulfive fighs frequently
drew the attention of Madame La Motte,
wLofe compaflion became gradually in-
terefted,
[ 3
terefted in her behalf, and who now
endeavoured to tranqillize her fpirits.
The unhappy girl anfwered her kindnefs
in artlefs and limple expreffions, and then
relapfed into tears and filence. Madame
forbore for the prefent to afk any quef-
tions that might lead to a difcovery of
her connexions, or feem to require an
explanation of the late adventure, which
now furnifhing her with a new fubject of
reflection, the fenfe of her own misfor-
tunes prefied lefs heavily upon her mind.
The diirrefs even of La Motte was for a
while frfpended.; he ruminated on the
late fcene, and it appeared like a vifion,
or one of thofe extravagant fictions that
fometimes are exhibited in romance :
he could reduce it to no principle of
probability, or render it comprehenfible
by any endeavour to analize it. The
prefent charge, and the chance of future
trouble brought upon him by this adven-
ture, occafioned fome diflatisf action ;
but the beauty and feeming innocence
of
C 3
of Adeline, united with the pleadings of
humanity in her favour, and he deter-
mined to protect her.
The tumult of emotions which had
pafled in the bofom of Adeline, began
now to fubfide ; terror was foftened into
anxiety, and defpair into grief. The
fympathy fo evident in the manners of
her companions, particularly in thofe of
Madame La Motte, foothed her heart,
and encouraged her to hope for better
days.
Difmally and filently the night pafled
on ; for the minds of the travellers were
too much occupied by their feveral fuf-
ferings to admit of converfation. The
dawn, fo anxioufly watched for, at length
appeared, and introduced the ftrangers
more fully to each other. Adeline de-
rived comfort from the looks of Madame
La Motte, who gazed frequently and
attentively at her, and thought me had
feldom feen a countenance fo interefting,
or a form fo ftriking. The languor of
forrow
forrow threw a melancholy grace npoa
her features, that appealed immediately
to the heart ; and there was a penetrating
fweetnefs in her blue eyes, which indi-
cated an intelligent and amiable mind.
La Motte now looked anxioufly from
the coach window, that he might judge
of his fituation, and obferve whether he
was followed. The obfcurity of the
dawn confined his views, but no perfon
appeared. The fun at length tinted the
eaftern clouds, and the tops of the higheft
hills, and foon after burft in full fplen-
dour on the fcene. The terrors of La
Motte began to fubfide, and the griefs
of Adeline to foften. They entered upon
a lane confined by high banks, and over-
arched by trees, on whofe branches ap-
peared the firft green buds of fpring
glittering with dews. The frefh breeze
of the morning animated the fpirits of
Adeline, whofe mind was delicately fen-
fible to the beauties of nature. As {he
viewed the flowery luxuriance of the
turf,
C 4 ]
turf, and the tender green of the trees,
or caught, between the opening banks,
a glimpfe of the varied landfcape, rich
with wood, and fading into blue and
diftant mountains, her heart expanded
in momentary joy. With Adeline the
charms of external nature were height-
ened by thofe of novelty ; {he had fel-
dom feen the grandeur of an extenfive
profpe<5t, or the magnificence of a wide
horizon and not often the picturefque
beauties of more confined fcenery. Her
mind had not loft, by long oppreffion,
that elaftic energy, which refifts calami-
ty i elfe, however fufceptible might have
been her original tafte, the beauties of
nature would no longer have charmed
her thus eafily even to temporary re-
pofe.
The road, at length, wound down the
fide of a hill, and La Motte, again look-
ing anxioufly from the window, faw be-
fore him an open champaign country,
through which the road, wholly unftiel-
tered
tered from obfervation, extended almoft
in a direct: line. The danger of thcfc
circumflances alarmed him, for his flight
might, without difficulty, be traced for
many leagues from the hills he was now
defcending. Of the firft peafant that
paffed, he inquired for a road among
the hills, but heard of none. La Motte
now funk into his former terrors. Ma-
dame, notwithftanding her own appie-
henfions, endeavoured to re-aflurc him,
bur, finding her efforts ineffectual, Ihe
alfo retired to the contemplation of her
misfortunes. Often, as they went on,
did La Motte look back upon the coun-
try they had paffed, and often did imagi-
nation fuggeft to him the founds of dif-
tant pnrfuit.
The travellers flopped to breakfafl in a
village, where the road was at length ob-
fcured by woods, and La Motte's fpirics
again revived. Adeline appeared more
tranquil than Ihe had yet been, and La
Motte now afked for an explanation of
VOL. I. B
C * ]
the fcene he had witnefled on the pre-
ceding night. The inquiry renewed all
her diftrefs, and with tears flie entreated
for the prefent to be fpared on the fubject.
La Motte prefled it no farther, but he ob-
ferved that for the greater part of the day
fhe feemed to remember it in melancholy
and dejection. They now travelled a-
mong the hills, and were, therefore, in
lefs danger of obfervation ; but La
Motte avoided the great towns, and
flopped in obfcure ones no longer than
to refrefh the horfes. About two hours
after noon, the road wound into a deep
valley, watered by a rivulet, and over-
hung with wood. La Motte called to
Peter, and ordered him to drive to a
thickly-embowered fpot, that appeared
on the left. Here he alighted with his
family, and Peter having fpread the
provifions on the turf, they feated them-
felves, and partook of a repaft, which,
in other circumftances, would have been
thought delicious. Adeline endeavour-
ed
[ *7 D
ed to fmile, but the languor of grjef was
now heightened by indifpofition. The
violent agitation of mind, and fatigue of
body, which ftie had fuffered for the laft
twenty-four hours, had overpowered her
flrength, and, when La Motte led her
back to the carriage, her whole frame
trembled with illnefs ; but ftie uttered no
complaint, and, having long obferved
the dejection of her companions, (he
made a feeble effort to enliven them.
They continued to travel throughout
the day without any accident or inter-
ruption, and, about three hours after fun-
fet, arrived at Monville, a fmall town,
where La Motte determined to pafs the
night. Repofe was, indeed, neceflary
to the whole party, whofc pale and hag-
gard looks, as they alighted from the
carriage, were but too obvious to pals
unobferved by the people of the inn.
As foon as beds could be prepared, Ade-
line withdrew to her chamber, accom-
panied by Madame La Motte, whofe
B 2 concerr
C *s 3
concern for the fair ftranger made her
exert every effort to foothe and confole
her. Adeline wept in filence, and taking
the hand of Madame, prefied it to her
bofom. Thefe were not merely tears of
grief they were mingled with thofe
which flow from the grateful heart, when,
unexpectedly, it meets with fympathy.
Madame La Motte underftood them.
After fome momentary filence, fhe re-
newed her affurances of kindnefs, and
entreated Adeline to confide in her
fricndlhip ; but fhe carefully avoided
any mention of the fubjecl, \\hich had
before fo much affected her. Adeline,
at length, found words to exprefs her
fenfe of this goodnefs, which fne did in
a manner fo natural and fmcere, that
Madame, finding herfelf much affected,
took leave of her for the night.
In the morning, La Mctte rofe at an
early hour, impatient to be gone, livery
thing was prepared for his departure,
au d the br cakfaft had been waiting fome
time,
[ '9 ]
time, but Adeline did not appear. Ma-
dame La Motte went to her chamber, and
found her funk in a difturbed flumber.
Her breathing was ihort and irregular
fhe frequently flatted, or fighed, and
fometimes fhe muttered an incoherent
fentence. While Madame gazed with
concern upon her languid countenance,
Ihe awoke, and, looking up, gave her
hand to Madame La Motte, who found
it burning with fever. She had pafled a
itftlefs niaht. and, as Jhe novy attempt-
ed to rife, her head, which beat with in-
tenfe pain, grew giddy, her ftrength fail-
ed, and (he funk back.
Madame was much alarmed, being at
once convinced that it was impoffible fhe
could travel, : and that a delay might
prove fatal to her hufband. She went to
inform him of the truth, and his diftrefs
may be more eafily imagined than de-
fcribed. He faw all the inconvenience
and danger of delay, yet he could not fo far
dived himfelf of humanity, as to aban-
B 3 don
[ So ]
don Adeline to the care, or rather to the
neglect of ftrangers. He fent immedi-
ately for a phyfician, who pronounced
hei to be in a high fever, and faid, a re*
moval in her prefent ftate muft be fatal.
La Motte now determined to wait the
event, and endeavoured to calm the
tranfports of terror, which, at times, af-
failed him. In the mean while, he
took fuch precautions as his fituation
admitted of, patting the greater part of
the clay out of the village, in a fpot from
whence he had a view of the road for
fome diftance ; yet to be expofed to de-
ftrucYion by the illnefs of a girl, whom
he did not know, and who had actually
been forced upon him, was a misfortune,
to which La Motte had not philofophy
enough to fubmit with compofurc.
Adeline's fever continued to increafe
dining the whole day, and at night, when
the phyfician took his leave, he told La
Motte the event would very foon be de-
cided. La Motte received this hint of
her
[ 3' ]
tier danger with real concern. The beauty
and innocence of Adeline had overcome
the difadvantageous circumftances un-
der which fhe had been introduced to
him, and he now gave lefs confederation
to the inconvenience fhe might hereafter
occafion him, than to the hope of her
recovery.
Madame la Motte watched over her
with tender anxiety, and obferved, with
admiration, her patient fweetnefs and
mild refignation. Adeline amply re-
paid her, though fhe thought fhe could
not, *< Young as I am,*' fhe would
fay, " and defertecf by thofe upon whom
" I have a claim for proteftion, I can
" remember no connection to make me
" regret life fo much, as that I hoped
" to form with you. If I live, my con-
" duel will beft exprefs my fenfe of your
" goodnefs words are but feeble tefti-
" monies."
C 3' 1
becjQc-lj f ;r.r.
watched the crifis of her difordcr with
a folicitude which precluded every other
intereft. Adeline patted a very diflur-
bed night, and, when the phyfician ap-
peared in the morning, he gave orders
that Ihe fhould be indulged with what-
ever fhe liked, and anfwered the inquiries
of La Motte with a franknefs that left
him nothing to hope.
In the mean time, his patient, after
drinking profufely of fome mild liquids,
fell aficep, in which Ihe continued for fe-
veral hours, and fo profound was her re-
pofe, that her breath alone gave fign of
existence. She awoke free from fever, and
with no other complaint than weakncfs,
which, in a few days, fhe overcame fo
well, as to be able to fet out with La
Motte for B , a Village out of the
great road, which he thought it prudent
to quit. There they paffed the following
night, and early the next morning com-
menced their journey upon a wild and
woody
[ 33 ]
woody trad: of country. They flopped
about noon at a folitary village, where
they took refreshments, and obtained
directions for paffing the vaft foreft of
Fontanville, upon the borders of which
they now were. La Motte wifhed at firil
to take a guide, but he apprehended
more evil from the difclofure he might
make of his route, than he hoped for
benefit from affiftnnce in the wilds of
this uncultivated tradh
La Motte now defigned to pafs on to
Lyons, where he could either leek con-
cealment in its neighbourhood, or em-
bark on the Rhone for Geneva, mould
the emergency of his circumftances here-
after require him to leave France. It
was about twelve o'clock at noon, and he
was defirous to haften forward, that he
might pafs the foreft of Fontanville, and
reach the town on its op polite borders,
before night-fall. Having depofited a
frefh flock of provifions in the carriage,
B 5 and
[ 34 ]
and received fuch directions as were
ceflary concerning the roads, they again
fet forward, and in a fhort time entered
upon the foreft. It was now the latter
end of April, and the weather was re-
markably temperate and fine. The bal-
my frefhnefs of the air, which breathed
the firft pure eflence of vegetation, and
the gentle warmth of the fun, whofe
beams vivified every hue of nature, and
opened every floweret of fpring, revived
Adeline, and infpired her with life and
health. As ftie inhaled the breeze, her
ftrength feemed to return, and, as her
eyes wandered through the romantic
glades that opened into the foreft, her
heart was gladdened with complacent
delight : but when from thefe objects fhc
turned her regard upon Monfieurand Ma-
dame La Motte, to whofe tender atten-
tions Ihe owed her life, and in whofe looks
(lie now read efteem and kindnefs, her
bofom glowed with fweet affections, and
hc
C 35 3
fhe experienced a force of gratitude
which might be called fublime.
For the remainder of the day they con-
tinued to trave-1, without feeing a hut, or
meeting a human being. It was now
near fun-fet, and the profpedt being
c-lofed on all fides by the foreft, La Motte
began to have apprehenfions that his
fervant had miftaken the way. The
road, if a road k could be called, which
afforded only a flight track upon the
grafs, was fometimes over run by luxu-
riant vegetation, and fometimes obfcured
by the deep (hades, and Peter at length
flopped, uncertain of the way. La Motte,
who dreaded being benighted in a fcene
fo wild and folitary as this foreft, and
whofe appr-ehenfions of banditti were
very fangume, ordered him to proceed
at any rate, and, if he found no track,
to endeavour to gain a more open part
of the foreft. With thefe orders, Peter
again fet forwards, but having proceeded
Jfome way, and his views being ftill con-
E 6 fine.d
C 3<s ]
fined by woody glades and foreft walks,
he began to defpair of extricating him-
felf, and flopped for farther orders. The
fun was now fet; but, as La Motte look-
ed anxioufly from the window, he obfer-
ved upon the vivid glow of the weftern
horizon, fome dark towers riling from
among the trees at a little diftance, and
ordered Peter to drive towards them.
" If they belong to a monaftery," faid
he, " we may probably gain admittance
" for the night."
The carriage drove along under the
ihade of " melancholy boughs," through
which the evening twilight, which yet
coloured the air, diffufed a folemnity
that vibrated in thrilling fenfations upon
the hearts of the travellers. Expectation
kept them filent. The prefent fcene
recalled to Adeline a remembrance of
the late terrific circumftances, and her
mind refponded but too-ealily tc the
apprchenfion of new misfortunes. La
Motu
C 37 1
Motte alighted at the foot of a green
knoll, where the trees again opening to
light, permitted a nearer, though imper-
feft, view of the edifice.
CHAP.
372
CHAP. II.
" What awful filenee ! How thefe antique towers,
*' And vacant courts, chill the fufpended foul !
*' Till expectation wears the face of fear ;
4< And fear, half ready to become devotion,
" Mutters a kind of mental orifon,
*' It knows not wherefore. What a kind of being
^' Is circumilance ! "
HORACE WALPOLE.
JLi E approached, and perceived the
Gothic remains of an abbey : it flood
on a kind of rude lawn, overihadovved by
high and fpreading trees, which feemed
coeval with the building, and diffufed a
romantic gloom around. The greater
part of the pile appeared to be finking
into ruins, and that, which had withflood
the ravages of time, (hewed the remain-
ing features of the fabric more awful in
decay. The lofty battlements, thickly
enwreathcd with ivy, were half demolifh-
[ 39 ]
ed, and become the refidence of birds of
prey. Huge fragments of the eaftern
tower, which was almoft demolifhed, lay
fcattered amid the high grafs, that waved
flowly to the breeze. " The thiftle
" ihook its lonely head ; the mofs whif-
*' tied to the wind." A Gothic gate
richly ornamented with fret-work, which
opened into the main body of the edi-
fice, but which was now obftrucled with
brufh-wood, remained entire. Above
the vaft and magnificent portal of this
gate arofe a window of the fame order,
whofe pointed arches ftiil exhibited frag-
ments of ftained glafs, once the pride of
monkifh devotion. La Motte, thinking
it poffible it might yet melter fome hu-
man being, advanced to the gate and
-lifted a mafiy knocker. The hollow
founds rung through the emptinefs of the
place. After waiting a few minutes, he
forced back the gate, which was heavy
with iron work, and creaked harfhly on
its -hinges,
He
[ 40 ]
He entered what appeared to have
been the chapel of the abbey, where the
hymn of devotion hid once been raifed,
and the tear of penitence had once been
ihed ; founds, which could now only be
recalled by imagination tears of peni-
tence, which had been long fince fixed
in fate. La Motte paufed a moment,
for he felt a fenfation of fublimity rifing
into terror a fufpenfion, of mingled afro-
nifhrnent and awe ! He furvtyed the
vaftnefs of the place, and as he contem-
plated its ruins, fancy bore him back to
paft ages. " And thefe walls," faid he,
" where once fuperftition lurked, and
" aufterity anticipated an earthly purga-
" tory, now tremble over the mortal re-
** mains of the beings who reared them !"
The deepening gloom reminded La
Motte that he had no time to lofe ; but
curiofity prompted him to explore far-
ther, and he obeyed the impulfe. As he
walked over the broken pavement, the
found of his fleps ran in echoes through
the
[ 4' ]
the place, and Teemed like the myfterious
accents of the dead, reproving the facri-
legious mortal who thus dared to diflurb
their precincts.
From this chapel he pafTed into the
nave of the great church, of which one
window, more perfect than the reft,
opened upon a long villa of the foreft,
and through this was feen the rich colour-
ing of evening, melting by imperceptible
gradations into the folemn grey of upper
air. Dark hills^ whofe outline apneaje.d
clfhnftly upon the vivid glow of the ho-
rizon, clofed the perfpeftive. Several
of the pillars, which had once fupported
the roof, remained the proud effigies of
finking greatnefs, and feemed to nod at
every murmur of the blaft over the frag-
ments of thofe that had fallen a little be-
fore them. La Motte fighed. The
comparifon between himfelf and the gra-
dation of decay, which thefe columns
exhibited, was but too obvious and af-
fecting. " A few years," faid he, " and
I (hall
[ 4' ]
" I fliall become like the mortals on
" whofe reliques I now gaze, and, like
" them too, I may be the fubject of me-
'* ditation to a fucceeding generation,
** which fhall totter but a little while
" over the object they contemplate, ere
" they alfo fink into the duft."
Retiring from the fcene, he walked
through the cloifters, till a door, which
communicated with a lofty part of the
building, r attracted his curiofny. He
opened tkis snd perceived, acrofs the
foot of a ftair-cafe, another door ;
but now, partly checked by fear, and
partly by the recollection of the furprize
his family might feel in his abfence, he
returned with hafty fteps to his carriage,
having wafted fome of the precious mo-
ments of twilight, and gained no infor-
mation.
Some flight anfwer to Madame La
Mottc's inquiries, and a general direc-
tion to Peter to drive carefully on, and
look for a road, was all that his anxiety
would
[ 43 ]
would permit him to utter. The night
(hade fell thick around, which, deepened
by the gloom of the forefl, foon rendered
it dangerous to proceed. Peter flopped,
but La Motte, perfifting in his firfl 'de-
termination, ordered him to go on. Pe-
ter ventured toremonftrate, Madame La
Motte entreated, but La Motte repro-
ved commanded, and at length re-
pented ; for the hind wheel riling upon
the flump of an old tree, which the dark-
nefs had prerented Peter from observing,
the carriage was in an inflant overturned.
The party, as may be fuppofed, were
much terrified, but no one was materially
hurt, and having difengaged themfelvcs
from their perilous fituation, La Motte
and Peter endeavoured to raife the car-
riage. The extent of this misfortune
was now difcovered, for they per-
ceived that the wheel was broke Their
diflrefs was reafonably great, for not only
was the coach difabled from proceeding,
but it could not even afford a fhelter
from
[ 44 ]
horn the cold dews of the night, it being
impoflible to preferve it in an upright
fituation. After a few moments filence,
La Motte propofed that they fhould
return to the ruins they had juft
quitted, which lay at a very fhort dif-
tance, and pafs the night in the moil ha-
bitable part of them ; that, when morn-
ing dawned, Peter fhould take one of the
coach horfcs, and endeavour to find a
road and a town, from whence affiftance
could be procured for repairing the cav-
ringe. This propofal was oppofed by
Madame La Motte, who fhuddered at
the idea of palling fo many hours of dark-
nefs in a place fo forlorn as the monaf-
teryc Terrors, which (he neither endea-
voured to examine, or combat, over-
came her, and (he told La Motte (he had
rather remain expofed to the unwhole-
fome dews of night, than encounter the
defolation of the ruins. La Motte had
at firft felt an equal reluctance to return
to this fpot, but having fubducd his own
feelings,
[ 45 ]
feelings, he refolved not to yield to thofc
of his wife.
The horfes be'ng now difengaged
from the carriage, the party moved to-
wards the edifice. As they proceeded,
Peter, who followed them, ftruck a light,
and they entered the ruins by the flame
of flicks, which he had collected. The
partial gleams thrown acrofs the fabric
feemed to make its defolation more fo-
lenin, while the obfcurity of the greater
part of the pile heightened its fubHmity,
and led fancy on to fcenes of horror.
Adeline, who had hkherto remained
filent, now uttered an cxclama:ion of
mingled admiration and fear. A kind
of pleating dread thrilled her bofom, and
filled all her foul. Tears darted to her
eyes : Ihe wifhed, yet feared, to go
on ; (he hung upon the arm of La
Morte, and looked at him with a fort of
hefitating interrogation.
He opened the door of the great hall,
and they entered : its extent was loft in
gloom.
C 46 ]
gloom. " Let us ftay here," faid Ma-
dame de la Motte, " I will go no far-
" ther." La Motte pointed to the
broken roof, and was proceeding, when
he was interrupted by an uncommon
noife, which patted along the hall. They
were all filent it was the filence of ter-
ror. Madame La Motte fpoke firft.
" Let us quit this fpot," faid Ihe, " any
" evil is preferable to the feeling which
" now opprefies me. Let us retire in-
" ftantly." The ftillncfs had for fome
time remained undifturbed, and La
Motte, amamed of the fear he had invo-
luntarily betrayed, now thought it ne-
ceflary to affedt a boldnefs, which he did
not feel. He, therefore, oppofed ridi-
cule to the terror of Madame, and in-
fifted upon proceeding. Thus compelled
to acquiefce, (he traverfed the hall with
trembling fteps. They came to a nar-
row paflage, and Peter's flicks being
nearly exhaufted, they awaited here,
while he went in fearch of more.
The
C 47 1
The almoft expiring light flafhed
faintly upon the walls of the paflage,
(hewing the recefs more horrible. Acrofs
the hall, the greater part of which
was concealed in ihadow, the feeble ray
fpread a tremulous gleam, exhibiting the
chafm in the roof, while many namelefs
objects were feen imperfectly through the
dulk. Adeline with a fmile, inquired of
La Monte, if he believed in fpirits. The
queftion was ill-timed, for the prefent
fcene impreffed its terrors upon La
Motte, and, in fpite of endeavour, he
felt a fuperftitious dread dealing upon
him. He was now, perhaps, {landing
over the afties of the dead. If fpirits
were ever permitted to.revifit the earth,
this feemed the hour and the place moil
fuitable for their appearance. La Motte
remained filent. Adeline faid, " Were I
" inclined to fuperflition" She was in-
terrupted by a return of the noife, which
had been lately heard : it founded down
the paflage, at whofe entrance they flood,
and
C 48 ]
and funk gradually away. Every heart
palpitated, and they remained liflening
in filence. A new fubject of apprehen-
lion feized La Motte : the noife might
proceed from banditti, and he hditated
whether it would be fafe to go on. Pe-
ter now came with the light : Madame
refufed to enter the paflage La Mottc
was not much inclined to it; but Peter,
in whom curiofity was more prevalent
than fear, readily offered his fcrvices.
La Motte, after fome hefitation, fuffered
him to go, while he awaited at the en-
trance the refult of the inquiry. The
extent of the paffage foon concealed
Peter from view, and the echoes of his
footfteps were loft in a found, which
rufhed along the avenue, and became
fainter and fainter, till it funk into filence.
La Motte now called aloud to Peter,
but no anfwer was returned ; at length,
they heard the found of a diftant footflep,
and Peter foon after appeared, breath-
lefs, and pale with fear.
4 When
C 49 ]
When he came within hearing of La
Motte, he called out, " An' pleafe your
" honour, I've done for them, I believe,
" but I've had a hard bout. I thought
" I was fighting with the devil."
" What are you fpeakirg of?" faid La .
Motte.
" They were nothing but owls and
" rooks after all," continued Peter ;
" but the light brought them all about
" my ears, and they made fuch a con-
" founded clapping with their wings,
" that I thought at firft I had been befet
" with a legion of devils. But I have
<c drove them all out, Mafter, and you
" have nothing to fear now."
The latter part of the fentence, intima-
ting a fufpicion of his courage, La Motte
could have difpenfed with, and, to re-
trieve in fome degree his reputation, he
made a point of proceeding through the
paffage. T^iey now moved on with
alacrity, for, as Peter faid, " they had
" nothing to fear."
VOL. I. C The
I 50 ]
The pafftge led into a large area, on
one fide of which, over a range of cloif-
ters, appeared the weft tower, and a lofty
part of the edifice ; the other fide was
open to the woods. La Motte led the
way to a door of the tower, which he
now perceived was the fame he had for-
merly entered ; but he found fome diffi-
culty in advancing, for the area was over-
grown with brambles and nettles, and the
light, which Peter carried, afforded only
an uncertain gleam. When he unclofed
the door, the difmal afpcdt of the pbce
revived the apprehenfions of Madame
La Motte, and extorted from Adeline
an inquiry whither they were going.
Peter held up the light to fliew the nar-
row ftaircafe that wound round the tower;
but La Motte, obferving the fecond
door, drew back the rufly bolts, and en-
tered a fpacious apartment, which, from
its ftyle and condition, was evidently of
a much later date than the other part of
the ilrudture : though defolate and for-
lorn,
lorn, it was very little impaired by time ;
the walls were damp, but not decayed ;
and the glafs was yet firm in the win-
dows.
They pafled on to a fuite of apart-
ments refembling the firft they had feen,
and expreffed their furprife at the in-
congtuous appearance of this part of
the edifice with the mouldering walls
they had left behind. Thefe apartments
conducted them to a winding pafTage,
that received light and air throngh har-
row cavities, placed high in the wall ;
and was at length clofcd by a door bar-
red with iron, which being with fomc
difficulty opened, they entered a vaulted
room. La Motte furveyed it with a fcru-
tinizing eye, and endeavoured to conjec-
ture for what purpofe it had been guard-
ed by a door of fuch ftrength ; but he
faw little within to affift his curiolity.
The room appeared to have been built
in modern times upon a Gothic plan.
Adeline approached a large window that
C 2 formed
formed a ki'nd of recefs raifed by one
ftep over the level of the floor ; fhe ob-
ferved to La Motte that the whole floor
was inlaid with Mofaic work ; which
drew from him a remark, that the (lyle
of this apartment was not ftriclly Gothic.
He paired on to a door, which appeared
on the oppolite fide of the apartment,
and, unlocking it, found himfelf in the
great hall, by which he had entered the
fabric.
He now perceived, what the gloom
had before concealed, a fpiral ftaircafe
which led to a gallery above; and which,
from its prcfent condition, feemed to
have been built with the more modern
part of the fabric, though this alfo affec-
ted the Gothic mode of architecture. La
Motte had little doubt that thefe ftairs led
to apartments, correfponding with thofe
he had pafled below, and hefitated whe-
ther td explore them ; but the entreaties
of Madame, who was much fatigued,
prevailed with him to defer all farther
examina-
C 53 ]
examination. After fomc deliberation,
in which of the rooms they ihould pafs
the night, they determined to return to
that which opened from the tower.
A fire was kindled on a hearth, which
it is probable had not for many years be-
fore afforded the warmth of hofpitality ;
and Peter having fpread the provifion
he had brought from the coach, La
Motte and his family, encircling the
fire, partook of a repaft, which hunger
and fatigue made delicious. Appre-
henfion gradually gave way to confi-
dence, for they now found themfelves
in fomething like a human habitation,
and they had leifure to laugh at their
late terrors; but, as the blaft (hook the
doors, Adeline often ftarted, and threw
a fearful glance around. They conti-
nued to laugh and talk cheerfully for a
time; yet their merriment was tranfient,
if not affected, for a fenfe of their pecu-
liar and diftrefled circumftances prefled
C 3 upon
upon their recollection, and funk each in-
dividual into languor and penfive filence*
Adeline felt the forlornnefs of her condi-
tion with energy ; Ihe reflected upon the
paft with aftonifhment, and anticipated
the future with fear. She found her-
felf wholly dependent upon Grangers,
with no other claim than what diflrefs
demands from the common f\mpathy
of kindred beings ; (ighs fwelled her
heart, and the frequent tear ftarted to her
eye ; but fhe checked it, ere it betrayed
on her cheek the forrow, which (he
thought it would be ungrateful to re-
veal.
Li Motte, at length, broke this me-
ditative filence, by directing the fire to
be renewed for the night, and the door
to be fecured : this ft-emed a ncceflary
precaution, even irt this folitude, and
was effected by means of large flones
piled againft it, for other fattening there
was none. It had frequently occurred to
La Motte, that this apparently forfaken
edifice
C 5.5 1
edifice might be a place of refuge to
banditti. Here was folitude to conceal
them ; and a wild and extenfive foreft
to affift their fchemes of rapine, and to
perplex, with its labyrinths, thofe who
might be bold enough to attempt pur-
fuit. Thefc apprehenfnns, however,
he hid within his own bofom, faving his
companions from a lhare of the uneafi-
nefs they occafioned. Peter was ordered
to watch at the door, and, having given
the fire a roufing ftir, our defolate party
drew round it, and fought in ileep a
fliort oblivion of care.
The night patted on without diftur-
bance. Adeline flept, but uneafy dreams
fleeted before her fancy, and fhe awoke
at an early hour : the recollection of her
forrows arofe upon her mind, and yield-
ing to their preiTure, her tears flowed
iilently and fad. That flie might in-
dulge them without rcilraint, me went to
a. window that looked upon an open part
of the foreft ; all was gloom and filence :
C 4 {he
[ 56 ]
fhe flood for fotne time viewing the flia-
dowy fccne.
The firft tender tints of morning now
appeared on the verge of the horizon,
dealing upon the darknefs ; fo pure, fo
fine, fo zethereal ! it feemed as if Heaven
was opening to the view. The dark
milts were feen to roll off to the weft, as
the tints of light grew ftronger, deepen-
ing the obfcurity of that pare of the he-
mifphere,. and involving the features of
the country below ; meanwhile, in the
caft, the hues became more vivid, dart-
ing a trembling luflre far around, till a
ruddy glow, which fired all that part of
the Heavens, announced the rifing fun.
At f:rft, a fmall line of inconceivable
fplendour emerged on the horizon, \\hich
quickly expanding, the fun appeared in
all his glory, unveiling the whole face of
nature, vivifying every colour of the
landfcape, and fprinkling the dewy earth
with glittering light. The low and gen-
tle refponfes of birds, awakened by the
morning:
C 57 3
morning ray, now broke the filence of
the hour ; their foft warbling rifing by
degrees till they fvvelled the chorus of
univerfal gladnefs. Adeline's heart fwel-
led coo with gratitude and adoration.
The fcene before her foothed her
mind, and exalted her thoughts to the
great Author of Nature ; fhe uttered an
involuntary prayer : " Father of good,
u who made this glorious fcene ! I re-
" fign myfelf to thy hands : thou wile
" fupport me under my prefent forrows,
" and protect me from future evil."
Thus confiding in the benevolence of
God, fhe wiped the tears from her eyes,
while the fweet unifon of confcience and
reflection rewarded her truft; and her
mind, loiing the feelings which had lately
opprefled it, became tranquil and com-
poled.
La Motte awoke foon after, and
Peter prepared to fet out on his ex-
pedition. As he mounted his horfe,
" An' pleafe you, Mailer," faid he, <c I
" think we had as good look no farther
C 5 " for
" for an habitation till better times turn
'* up ; for nobody will think of looking
" forushere; and when one fees the place
'* by day-light, its none fobad, but what a
" little patching up would make it com-
" fortable enough." La Motte made
no reply, but he thought of Peter's
words. Daring the intervals of the
night, when anxiety had kept him wak-
ing, the fame idea had occurred to- him ;
concealment was his only fecurity, and
this place afforded ir. The defolation of
the fpot was repulfive to his wilhcs;
but he had only a choice of evils a fo-
refl with liberty was not a bad home for
one who had too much reafon to expect
a prifon. As he walked through the
apartments, and examined their condi-
tion more attentively, he perceived they
might eafily be made habitable; and now
furvcying them under the cheerfulncfs of
morning, his defign flrengthened ; and
he mufcd upon the means of accomplifh-
rn it. which nothing feemed fo much
O ' O
to
[ 59 ]
to obftruct as the apparent difficulty of
procuring food.
He communicated his thoughts to
Madame La Motte, who felt repugnance
to the fcheme. La Motte, however, fel-
dom confulted his wife till he had de-
termined how to act ; and he had already
refolved to be guided in this affair by the
report of Peter.- If he could difcover a
town in the neighbourhood of the foreft,
where provifions and other necelTaries
could be procured, he would feek no far-
ther for a place of reft.
In the mean time, he fpent the anxious
interval of Peter's abfence in examining
the ruin, and walking over the environs ;
they were fweetly romantic, and the luxu-
riant woods, with which they abounded,
feemed to fequefter this fpot from the
reft of the -world. Frequently a natural
vifta would yield a view of the country,
terminated by hills which retiring in dif-
tance, faded into the blue horizon. A
ftream, various and mufical in its courfe,
C 6 wound
C 6 ]
wound at the foot of the lawn, on which
flood the abbey; here it filently glided
beneath the fhadcs, feeding the flowers
that bloomed on its banks, and diffufing
dewy frefhnefs around ; there it'fpread in
broad expanfe to day, reflecting the fyl-
van fcene, and the wild deer that tafled
its waves. La Motte obferved every
where a profufion of game; the phea-
fants fcarcely flew from his approach,
and the deer gazed mildly at him as he
pa/Ted. They were ftrarvgers to man !
On his return to the abbey, La
Motte afcended the flairs that led to
the tower. About half way up, a door ap-
peared in the wall ; it yielded, without re-
liflance, to his hand ; but a fudden noife
within, accompanied by a cloud of dufl,
made him flep back and clofe the door.
After waiting a few minutes, he again
opened it, and perceived a large room
of the more modern building. The re-
mains of tapcflry hung in tatters upon
the walls, which were become the refi-
dence
[ 6' ]
dence of birds of prey, whofe fudden
flight on the opening of the door had
brought down a quantity of duft, and
occafioned the noife. The windows were
fluttered, and almoft without glafs j but
he was furprifed to obferve fome remains
of furniture ; chairs, whofe fiifhion and
condition bore the date of their antiqui-
ty ; a broken table, and an iron grate al-
moft con fumed by ruft.
On the oppofite fide of the room was
a door, which led to another apartment,
proportioned like the firft, but hung
with arras fomewhat lefs tattered. In
one corner flood a fmall bedftead, and a
few {battered chairs were placed round
the walls. La Motte gazed with a mix-
ture of wonder and curiofity ; u Tis
" ftrange," faicl he, " that thefe rooms,
" and thefe alone, ihouid bear the marks
" of inhabitation : perhaps, fome wretch-
" ed wanderer, like myfelf, may have
" here fought refuge from a perfecuting
" world j and here, perhaps, hid down
" the
C 62 ]
" the load of exiftence : perhaps, too,
" I have followed his footfteps, but to
" mingle my duft with his !" He
turned fuddenly, and was about to quit
the room, when he perceived a door
near the bed ; it opened into a clofer,
which was lighted by one fmall window,
and was in the lame condition as the apart-
ments he had pafled, except that it was
deftitute even of the remains of furniture.
As he walked over the floor, he thought
* o
he felt one part of it ihake beneath his
(leps, and examining, found a trap
door. Curiofity prompted him to ex-
plore farther, and with fome difficulty he
opened it : it difclofed a flaircafe which
terminated in darknefs. La Motte de-
fcended a few fleps, but was unwilling
to truft the abyfs ; and, after wondering
for what purpofe it was fo fecrctly con-
ftruted, he clofed the trap, and quitted
this fuite of apartments.
The ftairs in the tower above were fo
much decayed, that he did not attempt
to
C 63 D
to afcend them : he returned to the hall,
and by the fpiral ftaircafe, which he had
obferved the evening before, reached
the gallery, and found another fuite of
apartments entirely unfurnifhed, very
much like thofe below.
He renewed with Madame La Motte
his former converfation refpecting the
abbey, and fhe exerted all her endea-
vours to diffuade him from his purpofe,
acknowledging the folitary fecurity of
the fpot, but pleading that other places
might be found equally well adapted for
concealment, and more for comfort. This
La Motte doubted : befides, the foreft
abounded with game, which would, at
once, afford him amufement and food ; a
circumftance, confidering his fmall flock
of money, by no means to be overlooked :
and he had fuffered his mind lo dwell fo
much upon the fcheme, that it was be-
come a favourite one. Adeline liftened in
filent anxiety to the difcourfe, and waited
with impatience the iffue of Peter's report.
The
The morning pafled, but Peter did
not return. Our folitary party took their
dinner of the provifion they had fortu-
nately brought with them, and after-
wards walked forth into the woods. Ade-
line, who never fuffered any good to pafs
unnoticed, becaufe it came attended with
evil, forgot for a while the dcfolation of
the abbey in the beauty of the adjacent
fcenery. The pleaiantnefs of the (hades
foothed her heart, and the varied fea-
tures of the landfcapeamufed her fancy;
Ihe almoft thought ihe could be content-
ed to live here. Already (he began to
feel an intereft in the concerns of her
companions, and for Madame La Motte
{he felt more ; it was the warm emotion
of gratitude and affedtion.
The afternoon wore away, and they
returned to the abbey. Peter was (till
abfent, and his abfence now began to
excite furprize and apprehenfion. The
approach of darknefs alfo threw a gloom
upon the hopes of the wanderers ano-
ther
[ 65 J
ther night muft be pafled under the fame
forlorn circumftances as the prececdlng
one: and, what was flill worfe, with a
very fcanty (lock of provifions. The
fortitude of Madame La Morte now en-
tirely forfook her, and fhe wept bitterly.
Adeline's heart was as mournful as Ma-
dame's ; but fhe rallied her drooping
fpirits, and gave the firft inftance of her
kindnefs by endeavouring to revive thofe
of her friend.
La Motte was reftlefs and uneafy, and,
leaving the abbey, he walked alone the
way which Peter had taken. He had
not gone far, when he perceived him
between the trees, leading his horfe.
" What news, Peter ? " hallooed La
Motte. Peter came on, panting for
breath, and faid not a word, till La
Motte repeated the queftion in a tone of
fomewhat more authority. " Ah, blefs
" you, Matter ! " faid he, when he had
taken breath to anfwer, " I am glad to
" fee you ; I thought I fhould never have
" got
[ 66 ]
" got back again ; I've met with a world
" of -misfortunes."
" Wei!, you may relate them hereaf-
" ter; let me hear whether you have
" difcovcred "
" Difcovered!" intcruptcd Peter,
" Yes, I am difcovered with a vcn-
'' gence ! If your honour will look at
se my arms, you'll fee how I am difco-
" vered."
" Difcoloured ! I fuppofe you mean,'*
faid La Motte ; " But how came you in
" this condition ?"
*' Why, I'll tell you how it was, Sir;
" your Honour knows I learned a fmack
" of boxing of that Englishman that ufed
" to come with his mafter to our houfe."
'* Well, well tell me where you have
" been."
" I fcarcely know myfelf, Mafter ;
<( I've been vrhere I got a found drub-
ft bing, but then it was in your bu fine Is,
*' and fo I don't mind. But if ever I
<f meet with that tafcal again !"
" You
[ 6? ]
" You feem to like your firft drub-
*' bing fo well, that you want another,
" and unlefs you fpeak more to the pur-
" pofe, you {hall foon have one."
Peter was now frightened into me-
thod, and endeavoured to proceed :
" When I left the old abbey/' faid he,
" 1 followed the way you directed, and
" turning to the right of that grove of
" trees y> 'er, I looked this way and
" that to i, \l could fee a houfe, or
" a cottage^ even a man, but not a
" foul of theiH was to be feen, and fo I
" jogged on, near the value of a league,
" I warrant, and then I came to a track;
" ho ! oh ! fays I, we have you now j
' this will do paths can't be made
" without feet. However, I was out in
" my reckoning, for the devil a bit of a
"foul could I fee, and, after following
" the track this way and that way, for
" the third of a league, I loft it, and had
<c to find out another."
Is
C 63 ]
" Is it impofliblc for you to fpeak to
" the point ? faid La Motte : " omit
" thefe foolifh particulars, and tell whe-
" ther you have fucceeded."
" Well, then, Matter, to be fliort,
" for that's the nearefl way after all, I
" wandered a long while at random, I
" did not know where, all through a
" forefl like this, and I took fivcial care
" to note how the trees ' , that I.
" might find my way | t At laft I
" came to another path r ,vas fure I
" fhould find foniething^_ /, though I
" had found nothing before, for I could
'* not be miftaken twice j fo, peeping
" between the trees, I fpied a cottage,
" and I gave my horfe a lam, that
" founded through the foreft, and I was
" at the door in a minute. They told
ts me there was a town about half a
" league off. and bade me follow the
o *
(( track and it would bring me there; fo
" it did ; and my horfe, I believe, fmelt
" the corn in the manger, by the rate
" he
[ 69 ]
" he went at. I inquired for a wheel-
" wright, and was told there was but
" one in the place, and he could not be
" found. I waited and waited, for I
" knew it was in vain to think of return-
" ing without doing my bufinefs. The
" man at laft came home from the coun-
" try, and I told him how long I had
" waited ; for, fays I, I knew it was in
" vain to return without my bufinefs."
" Do be lefs tedious," faid La Motte,
f( if it is in thy nature."
" It is in my nature," anfwered Peter,
" and if it was more in my nature, your
" Honour ihould have it all. Would
" you think it, Sir, the fellow had the
" impudence to afk a_ louis-d'or for
t( mending the coach wheel ? I believe
" in my confcience he faw I was in a
" hurry, and could not do without him.
" A louis-d'or ! fays I, my Matter fhall
" give no fuch price; he lha'n't be im-
" pofed upon by no fuch rafcal as you.
** Whereupon, the fellow looked glum,
". and
C 7 ]
'* and gave me a dofe o'rhe chops : with
" this, I up with my fift and gave him
<c another, and fhould have beat him
<f prefently, if another man had not
" come in, and then I was obliged to
(( give up."
" And fo you are returned as wife as 1
" you went ? "
*' Why, Matter, I hope I have too
" much fpirit to fubmit to a rafcal, or
*' let you fubmit to one either : betides,
cf I have bought fome nails, to try if I
" can't mend the wheel myfclf I had
" always a hand at carpentry."
" Well, I commend your zeal in my
" caufe, but on this occofion it was ra-
" ther ill-timed. And what have you
" got in that baiket ?"
" Why, Matter, I bethought me that
" we could not get away from this place
" till the carriage was ready to draw us,
" and in the mean time, fays I, nobody
" can live without victuals, fo I'll e'en
" lay
2
[ 7i J
" lay out the little money I have, and
" take a bafket with me."
" That's the only wife thing you have
" done yet, and this indeed, redeems
" your blunders."
" Why now, Matter, it does my heart
" good to hear you fpeak ; I knew I was
" doing for the bed all the while : but
o
" I've had a hard job to find my way
" back ; and here's another piece of ill
t( luck, for the horfe has got a thorn in
" his foot."
La Motte made inquiries concerning
the town, and found it was capable of
fupplying him with provisions, and what
little furniture was neceflary to render the
abbey habitable. This intelligence al-
moft fettled his plans, and he ordered
Peter to return on the following morn-
ing and make inquiries concerning the
abbey. If the anfwers were favourable
to his wifhes, he commiffioned him to
buy a cart, and load it with fome furni-
ture, and fome materials necefTary for
repair-
repairing the modern apartments. Peter
flared : " What, does your Honour
" mean to live here ? "
" Why, fuppofeldo?"
" Why then your Honour has made
" a wife determination, according to
" my hint ; for your Honour knows I
faid"
" Well, Peter, it is not neccflary to
" repeat what you faid ; perhaps I had
" determined on the fubject before."
" Egad, Mailer, you're in the right,
tf and I'm glad of it, for, I believe, we
" fhall not quickly be difturbed here,
" except by the rooks and owls. Yes,
" yes I warrant I'll make it a place fit
" for a king ; and as for the town, one
" may get any thing, I'm fure of that;
" though they think no more about this
" place than they do about India or
" England, or any of thofe places."
They now reached the abbey, where
Peter was received with great joy; but
the hopes of his miilrefs and Adeline
were
C 73 ]
were repreffed, when .they learned that
he returned, without having executed
his commiflion, and heard his account
of the town. La Motte's orders to Peter
were heard with almoft equal concern by
Madame and Adeline; but the latter
concealed her uneafinefs, and ufed all her
efforts to overcome that of her friend'
The fweetnefs of her behaviour, and the
air of fatisfadtion fhe aiTumed, fenfibly
affedted Madame, and difcovered to her
a fource of comfort, which Ihe had hi-
therto overlooked. The affectionate at-
tentions of her young friend" promifed to
confole her for the want of other fociety,
and her converfation to enliven the hours,
which might otherwife be patted in pain-
ful regret.
The remarks and general bchaviouf
of Adeline already befpoke a good un-
derftanding and an amiable heart, but
fhe had yet more fhe had genius. She
was now in her nineteenth year; her
figure of the middling fize, and turned
VOL. I. D to
C 74 ]
to the moft exqurfite proportion ; her
hair was dark auburn, her eyes blue, and
whether they fparkled with intelligence,
or melted with tendernefs, they were
equally attractive : her form had the airy
lightnefs of a nymph, and, when ihe
fmiled, her countenance might have been
drawn for the younger fifter of Hebe :
the captivationsof her beauty were heigh-
tened by the grace and {implicit}' of her
manners, and confirmed by the intrinilc
value of a heart
" That might be fhrin'd in cryftal,
" And have aJl its movement! fcann'd."
Annette now kindled the fire for the
night : Peter's bafket was opened, and
fupper prepared. Madame La Motte
was ftill penfive and filent. " There is
" fcarcely any condition fo bad," faid
Adeline, " but we may, one time or
" other, wifli we had not quitted it. Ho-
" neft Peter, when he was bewildered
" in the foreft, or had two encaiies to
* encounter inftead of one, confeffes he
" wifhed
t 75 ]
" wifhed himfelf at the abbey. And I
<c am certain, there is no fituation fo
* deflitute, but comfort may be ex-
" tracked from it. The blaze of this fire
" ihines yet more cheerfully from the
" contrafted drearinefs of the place , and
" this plentiful repaft is made yet more
" delicious, from the temporary want we
** have fuffered. Let us enjoy the good
* and forget the evil." rj\k
" You fpeak, my dear," replied Ma-
dame La Motte, " like one, whofe fpi-
" rits have not been often deprefled by
t( misfortune, (Adeline fighed) and
** whofe hopes are, therefore, vigorous."
" Long differing," faid La Motte,
*' has fubdued in our minds that elaftic
" energy, which repels the preffure of
" evil, and dances to the bound of joy.
" But I fpeak in rhapfody, though only
*' from the remembrance of fuch a time.
" I onee, like you, Adeline, could cx-
" traft comfort from moft fituations."
D 2 " And
C 76 ]
* e And may now, my dear Sir,** faid
Adeline : " Still believe it poffible, and
" you will find it is fo."
" The illufion.is gene I can no lon-
<f ger deceive myfelf."
" Pardon me, Sir, if I fay, it is now
" only you deceive yourfelf, by fuffcring
" the cloud of forrow to tinge every ob-
" jecl: you look upon."
" It may be fo," faid La Motte, " but
'' let us leave the fubjed:."
After fuppcr, the doors were fecured,
as before, for the night, and the wan-
derers refigned ihemfelves to rcpofe.
On the following morning, Peter again
fet out for the little town of Auboine,
and the hours of his abfcnce were again
fpent by Madame La Motte and Ade-
line in much anxiety and fome hope ; for
the intelligence he might bring concern-
ing the abbey, might yet releafe them
.from the plans of La Motte. Towards
the clofe of day he was defcried coming
flowly on ; and the cart, which accom-
panied
C 77 ]
panied him, too certainly confirmed their
fears. He brought materials for repair-
ing the place, and fome furniture.
Of the abbey he gave an account, of
which the following is the fubftance :
It belonged, together with a large part
of the adjacent forefl, to a nobleman,
who now refided with his family on a re-
mote eflate. He inherited it, in right of
his wife, from his father-in-law, who
had caufed the more modern apartments
to be eredted, and had refided in them
fome part of every year, for the purpofes
of Ihooting and hunting. It was re-
ported, that fome perfon was, foon after
it came to the prefent pofTeflbr, brought
fecretly to the abbey, and confined in
thefe apartments ; who, or what he was,
had never been conjectured, and what
became of him nobody knew. The re-
port died gradually away, and many
perfons entirely difbelieved the whole of
it. But however this affair might be,
Qertain it was, the prefent owner had
D 3 vifited
C 78 ]
vifited the abbey only two Cummers, fince
his fucceeding to it ; and the furniture,
after fome time^, was removed.
This cireumftance had at firft excited
furprize, and various reports arofe in
confequence, but it was difficult to know
what ought to be believed. Among the
reft, it was faid, that ftrange appearances
had been obferved at the abbey, and
uncommon noifes heard ; and though
fhis report had been ridiculed by fenfible
perfons as the idle fuperftition of igno-
rance, it had fattened fo flrongly upon
the minds of the common people, that
for the laft feventeen years none of the
peafantry had ventured to approach the
fpor. The abbey was now, therefore,
abandoned to decay.
La Motte ruminated upon this ac-
count. At firft, it called up unpleafant
ideas, but they were foon difmified, and
confulerations more interefting to his wel-
fare took place : he congratulated him-
fclf that he had now found a fpot, where
he
C 79 ]
he was not likely to be either difcovered
or difturbed ; yet it could not efcape him
that there was a ftrange coincidence be-
tween one part of Peter's narrative, and
the condition of the chambers that
opened from the tower above flairs.
The remains of furniture, of which the
other apartments were void the folitary
bed the number and connection of the
rooms, were circumftances that united
to confirm his opinion. This, however,
he concealed in his own bread, for he
already perceived that Peter's account
had not aftifted in reconciling his family
to the neceffity of dwelling at the abbey.
But they had only to fubmit in iilence,
and whatever difagreeable apprehenfion
might intrude upon them, they now
appeared willing to fupprefs the expref-
iion of it. Peter, indeed, was exempt
from any evil of this kind ; he knew no
fear, and his mind was now wholly oc-
cupied with his approaching bufinefs.
Madame La Motte, with a placid kind
D 4 of
C So ]
of defpair, endeavoured to reconcile her*
felf to that, which no effort of under-
{landing could teach her to avoid, and
which, an indulgence in lamentation
could only make more intolerable. In-
deed, though a fenfe of the immediate
inconveniences to be endured at the
abbey, had made her oppofe the fcheme
of living there, fhe did not really know
how their fituation could be improved by
removal : yet her thoughts often wan-
dered towards Paris, and reflected the
retrofpeft of pad times, with the images
of weeping friends left, perhaps, for ever.
The affectionate endearments of her only
fon, whom, from the danger of his fitua-
tion, and the obfcurity of her's, fhe
might reafonably fear never to fee again,
arofe upon her memory, and overcame
her fortitude. " Why, why was I re-
" ferved for this hour?" would (lie fay,
" and what will be my years to come?"
Adeline had no retrofpect of paft de-
light to give emphafis to prefent cala-
mi tj
C 8i. ]
noity tio weeping friends no dear re--
grettcd objeds to point the edge of for-
row, and throw a iickly hue upon her
future profpecls; Ihe knew not yet the
pangs of difappointed hope, or the acuter
fting of felf-accufation ; fhe had no mi-
fery, "but what patience could affuage,
OF fortitude overcome.
At the dawn of the following day
Peter arofe to his labour : he proceeded
with alacrity, and, in a few days, two of
the lower apartments were fo much al-
tered for the better, that La Motte began
to exult,, and his family to perceive that"
their foliation would not be fo miferable as
they had imagined. The furniture Peter
had already brought was difpoled in thefe
rooms, one of which was the vaulted :
apartment. Madame La Motte furnimed
this as a fitting room, preierring it for '
its large Gotlvc window, that defcended-
almoit to the floor, admitting a profpedt
of the lawn, and the picturefque fcencry
of the furrounding woods.
[ * 3
Peter having returned to Auboine for
a farther fupplyyall the lower apartments
were in a few weeks not only habitable,
but comfortable. Thcfe, however, being
inefficient for the accommodation of the
family, a room above flairs v\as pre-
pared for Adeline : it was the chamber
that opened immediately from the tower,
and ihe preferred it to thofe beyond, be-
caufe it was lefs diftant from the family,
and the windows fronting an avenue -of
the foreft, afforded a more extend ve
profpe<ft. The taptftry, that was de-
cayed, and hung loofely from the walls,
was now hailed up, and made to look
lefs defolate ; and, though the room had
Hill a folemn. afpect, from its fpaciouf-
nefs, and thenarrownefs of the windows.,
it was not uncomfortable.
The firft night that Adeline retired
hither, Ihe flept little : the folitary air of
the place afFedted her fpirits ; the more
fo, perhaps, becaufe Ihe had, with
friendly confideration, endeavoured to
fup-
t '3 3
fbpport them in the prefence of Madame
La Motte. She remembered the narra-
tive of Peter, feveral circumftances of
which had imprefled her imagination in
fpite of her reafon, and Ihe found it dif-
ficult wholly to fubdue apprehenfion. At
one time, terror fo- flrongly feized her
mind, that Ihe bad even opened the
door \v it h an intention of call ing Madame
La Motte ; but, liftening for a moment
on the flairs of the tower, every thing
feemed ftill ; at length, fhe heard the
voice of La Motte fpeaking cheerfully,
and the abfurdity of her fears ftruck her
forcibly ; (he blufhed that fhe had for a
moment fubmitted to them, and returned
to her chamber wondering at herfelf.
D6 CHAP.
C 4 3
CHAP. III.
" Are no', thefe woodi
" More free from peril than the envious court?
*' Here feel we but the penalty of Adam,
44 The feafons' difference, as the icy fang
44 And churlifh chiding of the winter's wind.**
SHAKESPEARE.
JLvA Motte arranged his little plan of
living. His mornings were ufually fpent
in (hooting, or fifhing, and the dinner,
thus provided by his indultry, he reliflied
with a keener appetite than had ever at-
tended him at the luxurious tables of
Paris. The afternoons he pafled with
his family : fometimes he would fekdt
a book from the few he had brought
with him, and endeavour to fix his atten-
tion to the words his lips repeated :
but his mind fuffcred little abftra&ion
from
[ 5 1
from its own cares, and the femiment he
pronounced left no trace behind it.
Sometimes he converfed, but oftener fat
in gloomy filence, mufing upon the paft,
or anticipating the future.
At thefe moments, Adeline-, with a
fvveetnefs almofl irrefiftible, endeavoured
to enliven his fpirits, and to withdraw
him from himfelf.- Seldom fhe fucceed-
cd, but when fhe did, the grateful looks
of Madame La Motte, and the benevo-
lent feelings of her own bofom, rea-
lized the cheerfulnefs Ihe had at
firft only affumed. Adeline's mind had
the happy art, or, perhaps, it were
more juil to fay, the happy nature, of
accommodating itfelf to her fituation.
Her prefent condition, though forlorn,
was not devoid of comfort, and this com-
fort was confirmed by her virtues. So
much {he won upon the arTtdtions of
her prote&ors, that Madame La Mottc
loved her as her child, andLaMotte him-
felf, though a man little fufceptible of
4 tender-
C 86 ]
tendernefs, could not be infenfible to her
folicitudes. Whenever he relaxed from
the fullenefs of mifery, it was at the in-
fluence of Adeline.
Peter regularly brought a weekly
fupply of provifions from Auboine, and,
on thofe occafion, always quitted the
town by a route contrary to that leading
to the abbey. Several weeks having
pafied without moleftation, La Motte dif-
mifled all apprehenfion of purfuit, and
at length became tolerably reconciled
to the comple&ion of his circumftances.
As habit and effort ftrengthened the for-
titude of Madame La Motte, the features
of misfortune appeared to foften. The
foreft, which at firft feemed to her a
frightful folitude, had loft its terrific af-
pect; and that edifice, whole half de-
molifhed walls and gloomy defolation
had ftruck her mind with the force of
melancholy and difmay, was now beheld
as a domeftic afylum, and a fafe refuge
from the ftorms of power.
She
C 7 1
She was a fenfible and highly accom-
pliihed woman, and it became her chief
delight to form the riling graces of Ade-
line, who had, as has been already
ihown, a fweetnefs of difpofition, which
made her quick to repay inftru&ion with
improvement, and indulgence with love.
Never was Adeline fo pleafed as when
fhe anticipated her wifhes, and never fo
diligent as when fhe was employed in
her bufinefs. The little affairs of the
houfehold fhe overlooked and managed
with fu<Ji admirable exadtnefs, that Ma-
dame La Motte had neither anxiety, nor
care, concerning them. And Adeline
formed for herfelf in this barren fituation,
many amufements,- that occafionally ba-
nifhed the remembrance of her misfor-
tunes. La Motte's books were her chief
confolation. With one of thefe fhe
would frequently ramble into the foreft,
to where the river, winding through a
, glade, diffufed coolnefs, and with its
murmuring accents, invitedrepofe; there
fhe
C 88 ]
fhe would feat herfelf, and refigned to the
illufions of the page, pafs many hours in
oblivion of forrovv.
Here too, .when her mind was tran-
quillized by the furrounding fcenery, fhe
wooed the gentle mufe, and indulged in
ideal happinefs. The delight of thefe
moments fhe commemorated in the fol-
lowing addrefs
To THE VISIONS OF FANCY.
T)ear, wild illufions of creative mind!
Whofe varying hues arife to Fancy's art,
And by her magic force are fwift combip'd
In forms that pleafe, and fccncs that touch ih
heart :
Oh '. whether at her voice ye foft afTume
The penfive grace of Sorrow drooping low ;
Or rife fublime on Terror's lofty plume,
And fliake the foul with wildly-thrilling woe {
Or, fweetly bright, your gayer tints ye fpread, .
Bid fcencs of pleafurc (teal upon my view,
J^ove wave his purple pinions o'er my head,
And wake the tender thought to paflion true ;
O ! flill yc fliadowy forms ! 'attend my lonely
hours,
Still chafe ray real caics with your illufive powers I
Madame
C 8'9 1
Madame La Motte had frequently ex-
prefled curiofity concerning the events
of Adeline's life, and by what circutfr-
ftances fhe had been thrown into a fitua-
tion fo perilous and myfterious as that in
which La Motte had found her. Adeline
had given a brief account of the manner
in which Ihe had been brought thither,
but had always with tears entreated to be
fpared for that time from a particular
relation of her hiftory. Her fpirits were
not then equal to retro fpedtion, but now
that they were foothed by quiet, and
ftrengthened by confidence, fhe one day-
gave Madame La Motte the following
narration.
" I am the only child," faid Adeline,
" of Louis de St. Pierre, a chevalier of
t( reputable family, but of fmall fortune,
" who for many years refided at Paris.
" Of my mother I have a faint remem-
*' brance; I loft her when I wasonly feven
" years old, and this was, my firft misfor-
" tune*.
[ 9 ]
" tune. At her death, my father gave up
" houfe-kceping, boarded me in a con-
" vent, and quitted Paris. Thus was I,
" at this early period of my life, aban-
" doned to ftrangers. My father came
" fometimes to Paris; he then vifited
" me, and I well remember the grief I
" ufed to feel when he bade me farewel.
" On thefe occafions, which wrung
<c my heart with grief, he appeared un-
" moved ; fo that I often thought he
" had little tendernefs for me. But he
" was my father, and the only perfon to
" whom I could look up for protection
" and love.
" In this convent I continued till I was
" twelve years old. A thoufancl times I
" had entreated my father to rake me
" home, but at firft motives of prudence,
" and afterwards of avarice, prevented
" him. I was now removed from this
" convent,and placed in another, where I
" learned my father intended I IhouKl
" take the veil. I will not attempt to ex-
" prefs
C 9' ]
" prefs my furprize and grief on this oc-
" cafion. Too long I had been im-
" mured in the walls of a cloifter, and
" too much had I feen of the fullen mi-
" fery of its votaries, not to feel horror
" and difguft at the profpect of being
" added to their number.
" The Lady Abbefs was a woman of
*' rigid decorum and fevere devotion; ex-
" act in the obfervance of every detail of
" form, and never forgave an offence
" againft ceremony. Ic was her method,
" when fhe wanted to make converts to
" her order, to denounce and terrify ra-
" ther than to perfuade and allure. Her's
** were the arts of cunning practifed upon
" fear, not thofe of fophiftication upon
" reafon. She employed numberlefsftra-
" tagems to gain me' to her purpofe, and
" they all wore the completion of her
" character. But in the life to which fhe
" would have devoted me, I faw too ma-
te ny forms of real terror, to be overcome
" by the influence of her ideal hoft, and
" was
[ v 3
** was refolute in rejecting the veil. Here
" I patted feveral years of miferable re'-
*' fi (lance againft cruelty and fuperftitiorr.
Cf My father I feldom faw - t when I did, I
M entreated him to alter my dcftinatiorr,
" but he objected that his fortune was irr-
M fufficient to fupport me in the world,
" and at length denounced vengeance on
ff my head if Tperlifted in difobedience.
" You, my dear Madam, can form lit*-
*' tie ideaof thcwretchednefsofmy fitua:-
c< tion, condemned to perpetual impri*-
** fonment, and imprifonmentof themoft
** dreadful kind, or to the vengeance of
" a father, from whom I had no appeal.
" My refolution relaxed for fome time
" 1 paufed upon the choice of evils but
** at length the horrors of a monaftic life
** rofe fo fully to nly view, .that fortitude
** gave way before them. Excluded
** from the cheerful intercourfe of 1'ocie-
** ty from the pleaf.mt view of nature
** nlmoft from the light of day con-
** demned to filence rigid formality
abfti-
r 93 3
** abftinence and penance condemned
*' to forego the delights of a world, which
* s imagination painted in the gay eft and
<e moil alluring colours, and whole hues
(t were, perhaps, not the lefs captivating
" becaufe they were only ideal : fuch
* ( was the ilate to which I was detained,.
" Again my reiolution was invigorated :
" my father's cruelty fubdued tender-
" nefs, and roufed indignation. Since he
t( can forget, faid I, the affection of a
" parent, and condemn his.child without
*' remorfe to wretchtdncfs and defpair
" the bond of h'lial and parental duty no
" longer fubfifts between us he has
" himfelf diflb-lved it, and I will yet
" ilruggle for liberty and life."
" Finding me unmoved by menace,
" the Lady Abbefs had now recourfe
" to more fubtle meafures : ihe conde-
" fcended to fmile, and even to flatter;
" but her's was the diftorted fmile of
lt cunning, not the gracious emblem of
" kindnefs; it provoked difguft, inftead
" of
[ 94 ].
" of infpiring affection. She painted the
" character of a veftal in the oioft beau-
" tiful tints of art its holy innocence
" its mild dignity its fublime devotion.
** I fighed as (he fpoke. This fhe regard-
" cd as a favourable fymptom, and pro-
" ceeded on her picture with more ani-
" mation. Shedefcribed the ferenity of a
" monadic life its fecurity from the fe-
" duc"Uve charms, reftlefs paflions, and
" forrowful viciffitudes of the world
c< the rapturous delights of religion, and
" the fweet reciprocal affeftion of the
" fifterhood.
" So highly (he finifhed the piece, that
" the lurking lines of cunning would, to
" an inexperienced eye, have efcaped de-
" teftion. Mine was too forrowfully in-
** formed. Too often had I witnefled the
" fecret tear and burfling figh of vain re-
" gret, the fullen pinings of difcontent,
" and the mute anguilh of defpair. My
" (ilence and my manner allured her of
" my incredulity, and it was with diffi-
" culty
C 95 .1
' culty that fhe prcferved a decent com-
" pofure.
" My father, as may be imagined, was
" highly incenfed at my perfeverance,
" which he called obftinacy, but, what
" will not be fo eafily believed, he foon
" after relented, and appointed a day to
" take me from the convent. O [judge
" of my feelings when I received this in-
" telligence. The joy it occafioned
" awakened all my gratitude; I forgot
" the former cruelty of my father, and
" that the prefent indulgence was lefs
" the efFedt of his kindnefs than of my
" refolution. I wept that I could not
" indulge his every wifh.
" What days of blifsful expectation
" were thofe that preceded my depar-
" ture ! The world, from which I had
" been hitherto fecluded the world, in
" which my fancy had been fo often de-
" lighted to roam whofe paths were
" ftrewn with fadelefs rofes whofe eve-
" ry fcene fmiled in beauty and invited
2 " tO
C 96 3
*' to delight where all the people were
" good, and all the good happy Ah !
u then that world was burfting upon my
f view. Let me catch the rapturous re-
** membrance before it vanifh ! It is like
(f the pafling lights of autumn, that
M gleam for a moment on a hill, and then
** leave it to darknefs. I counted the days
'* and hours that withheld me from this
w fairyland. It was in the convent only
" that people were deceitful and cruel :
*' it was there only that mifery dwelt. I
" was quitting it all ! How I pitied the
" poor nuns that were to be left behind.
" I would have given half that world I
" prized fo much, had it been mine, to
** have taken them out with me.
" The long-wifhed-for day at laft ar-
" rived. My father came, and for a mo-
" ment my joy was loft in the forrow of
4< bidding farewell to my poor compa-
M nions, for whom I had never felt fuch
" warmth of kindnefs as at this inftanr.
4< 1 was foon beyond the gates of the con-
** vent.
C 97 ]
<{ vent. I looked around me, and vicw-
cc ed the vaft vault of heaven no longer
" bounded by monadic walls, and the
" green earth extended in hill and dale to
" the round verge of the horizon ! Mf
" .heart danced with delight, tears fwel-
<( led in my eyes, and for fome moments
<c I was unable to fpeak. My thoughts
(f rofe to Heaven in fentiments of gra-
c< titude to the Giver of all good.
" At length, I turned to my father 5
** dear Sir, faid I, how I thank you for
" my deliverance, and how I wilh I could
" do every thing to oblige you.
" Return, then, to your convent, faid
c< he, in a harfh accent. I fhuddcred;
" his look and manner jarred the tone of
" my feelings; they ftruck difcord upon
" my heart, which had before refponded
" only to harmony. The ardour of joy
" was in a moment reprefied, and every
" object around me was faddened with
" the gloom of difappointment. It was
" not that I fufpeded my father would
VOL. J, E take
C 98 ]
" take me back to the convent; but thai
" his feelings Teemed fo very diffbnant to
" the joy and gratitude which I had but
" a moment before felt and exprefled to
" him. Pardon, Madam, a relation of
" thefe trivial circumftances; the ftrong
" viciflitudes of feeling which they im-
" prefled upon my heart, make me think
" them important, when they are, per-
" haps, only difgufting.
" No, my dear," faid Madame La
Motte, " they are interefting to me;
" they illuflrate little traits of character
* which I love to obferve. You arc
" worthy of all my regards, and from
" this moment I give my tendereft pity
" to your misfortunes, and my affedtion
' to your goodnefs."
Thefe words melted the heart of Ade-
line ; fhe kiflcd the hand which Ma-
dame held out, and remained a few mi-
nutes filent. At length flie faid, " May
" I deferve this goodnefs! and may I
" ever be thankful to God, who, in giv-
" ing
[ 99 ]
< ing me fnch a friend, has raifed me to
" comfort and hope!
" My father's houfe was fituared a few
<f leagues on the other fide of Paris, and
'* in our way to it, wepafTed through that
" city. What a novel fcene ! Where
4< were now the folemn faces, the demure
" manners I had been accuftomed to fee
" in the convent ? Every countenance
" was here animated, either by bufi-
" nefs or pleafure ; every (lep was airy,
" and every fmile was gay. All the
" people appeared like friends; they
*' looked and fmiled at me; I fmilcd
" again, and wiflicd to have told them
tl how pleafed I was. How delight-
" ful, faid I, to live furrounded by
" friends !
" What crowded ftreets ! What ma^-
o
<f nificent hotels ! What fplendid equi-
** pages ! I fcarcely obferved that the
" llrccts were narrow, or the way dan-
" ger-ous What buftle, \vhat tumult,
" what delight ! I could never be fufll-
E 2 " cicntly
C
ff cicntly thankful that I was removed
ft from the convent. Again, I was go-
ft ing to exprefs my gratitude to my fa-
" ther, but his looks forbad me, and I
" was filent. I am too diflufe ; even
" the faint forms which memory reflects
" of paflcd delight are grateful to the
" heart. The lhadovv of pleafure is ftill
" gazed upon with a melancholy enjoy-
" ment, though the fubflance is fled be-
" yond our reach.
" Having quitted Paris, which I left
" with many fighs, and gazed upon till
" the towers of every church diflblved
" in diftance from my view; we entered
* f upon a gloomy and unfrequented road*
" It was evening when we reached a
" wild heath; I looked round in fearch
" of a human dwelling, but could find
" none; and not a human being was to
" be feen. I experienced fomething of
" what I ufed to feel in the convent ;
* my heart had not been fo fad fmce I
' left
c
** left it. Of my father, who dill fat in
* 4 filence, I inquired if we were near
44 home; he anfwered in the affirmative.
f( Night came on, however, before we
44 reached the place of our deftination ;
41 it was a lone houfe on the wafte ; but
44 I need not defcribe it to you, Madam.
44 When the carriage flopped, two men
** appeared at the door, and aflifted us
" to alight ; fo gloomy were their coun-
" tenances, and fo few their words, I al-
'* mod fancied myfelf again in the con
44 vent. Certain it is, I had not feen fuch
" melancholy faces fince I quitted it.
w Is this a part of the world I have fo
" fondly contemplated ? faid I,
4 * The interior appearance of the houfe
(t was defolate and mean ; 1 was fur-
" prifed that my father had chofen fuch
44 a place for his habitation, and alfo that
" no woman was to be feen ; but I knew
" that inquiry would only produce re-
" proof, and was, therefore, filent. At
3 4f fupper,
" fapper, the two men I had before fcen
" fat down wirh us ; they faid little, but
" feemed to obferve me much. I was
" confufed and difplrafed, which, my
" father noticing, frowned at them with
" a look, which convinced me he meant
" more than I comprehended. When
" the cloth was drawn, my father took
" my hand and conducted me to tht
" door of my chamber ; having fat
" down the candle, and wiftied me good
" night, he left me to my own folitary
" thoughts.
" How different were they from thofb
** I had indulged a few hours before !
" Then expectation, hope, delight, dan-
" ced before me ; now melancholy and
" difappointment chilled the ardour of
" my mind, and difcoloured my future
" profpeft. The appearance of every
* s thing around conduced to deprefs me.
" On the floor lay a fmall bed without
" curtains, or hangings ; two old chairs
" and
" and a table wer^ all the remaining fur-
" niture in the room. I went to the
" window, with an intention of looking
" out upon the furrounding fcene, and
" found it was grated. I was (hocked
" at this circumltance, and, comparing
" it with the lonely (ituation, and the
" flrange appearance of the houfe, toge-
" ther with the countenances and beha-
" viour of the men who had fupped
" with us, I was loft in a labyrinth of
*< conjecture.
'< At length I laid down to fleep ; but
" the anxiety of my mind prevented re-
" pofe ; gloomy, unpleafing images flit-
" ted before my fancy, and I fell into a
" fort of waking dream ; I thought that
'* I was in a lonely foreft with my f ither ;
" his looks were fevere, and his geftures
" menacing: he upbraided me for leaving
" the convent, and while he fpoke, drew
" from his pocket a mirror, which he held
" before my face; I looked in it and
4 " faw
C 104 }
" faw, (my blood now thrills as I re-
" peat it) I faw myfelf wounded, and
" bleeding profufely. Then I thought
" myfelf in the houfe again ; and fud-
" denly heard thefe words, in accents fo
" diftincl:, that for fome time after I
* ( awoke, I could fcarcely believe them
" ideal ' Depart this houfe, dcftru&ion
" hovers here.'
" I was awakened by a footftep on
*' the ftairs ; it was my father retiring
" to his chamber; thelatenefsof the hour
" furprifcd me, for it was pad mid-
" night.
ts On the following morning, the par-
" ty of the preceding evening aflembled
" at breakfaft, and were as gloomy and
" filentas before. The table was fpread
" by a boy of my father's ; but the cook
" and the houfe-maid, whatever they
" might be, were invifible."
" The next morning, I was furprifed,
* c on attempting to leave my chamber,
" to
[ '05 ]
*' too find the door locked ; I waited a
" confiderable time before I ventured to
" call ; when I did, no anfwer was re-
" turned ; 1 then went to the window,
" and called more loudly, but my own
" voice was Hill the only found I heard.
" Near an hour pafied in a ftate of fur-
<f prife and terror not to be defer ibed :
M at length, I heard a perfon coming up
" flairs, and I renewed the call ; I was
*' anfwered, that my father had that
'* morning fet off for Paris, whence he
" would return in a few days ; in the
" meanwhile he had ordered me to be
" confined in my chamber. On my ex-
" preffing furprife and apprehenfion at
" this circumftance, I was affured I had
" nothing to fear, and that I mould live
" as well as if I was at liberty.'*
*' The latter part of this fpeech feem-
" ed to contain an odd kind of comfort;
" I made little reply, but fubmitted to
" neceffity. Once more I was aban-
5 " doned
[ 106 ]
(< doned to forrowful reflection ; what a
<f day was the one I now pafled ! alone,
" and agitated with grief and apprehen-
c * fion. I endeavoured to conjecture the
" caufe of this harm treatment ; and, at
" length concluded it was defigned by my
" father as a punifhment for my former
" difobedience. But why abandon me
" to the power of ftrangers, to men,
" whofe countenances bore the ftamp of
" villany fo ftrongly as to imprefs even
" my inexperienced mind with terror !
" furmife involved me only deeper in
" perplexity, yet I found it impoflible to
" forbear purfuing the fubjecl:; and the
" day was divided between lamentation
" and conjecture. Night at length came,
" and fuch a night ! Darknefs brought
" new terrors : I looked round thecham-
" ber for fome means of fattening my
" door on the infide', but could perceive
" none; atlaft I contrived to place the
" back
t back of a chair in an oblique direction,
" fo as to render it fecure.
" I had fcarcely done this, and laid
" down upon my bed in my cloaths,
" not to fleep, but to watch, when I
" heard a rap at the door of the houfe,
" which was opened and fhut fo quickly,
" tbat the perfon who had knocked,
" feemed only to deliver a letter, or mef-
" fage. Soon after, I heard voices at
" intervals in a room below Hairs, fome-
" times fpeaking very low, and fome-
" times rifing all together, as if in dif-
" pute. Something more excufable than
" curiofity made me endeavour to difr
" tinguiih what was faid, but in vain ;
" now and then a word or two reached
" me, and once I heard my name re-
" peated, but no more.
" Thuspaffed the hours till midnight,
" when all became flill. I had lain for
" fome time in a ftate between fear and
" hope, when I heard the lock of my
E 6 door
" door gently moved backward and for-
" ward ; I llarted up, and liftened ; for
* a moment it was (till, then the noife
" returned, and I heard a whifpering
" without; my fpirits died away, but I
" was yet fenfible. Prefently an effort
*' was made at the door, as if to force it ;
" I flirieked aloud, and immediately
." heard the voices of the men I had feen
" at my father's table : they called loud-
" ly for the door to be opened, and on
" my returning noanfwer, uttered dread-
" ful execrations. I had juft ftrength
* c fufficient to move to the window, in
*f the defperate hope of efcaping thence ;
?' but my feeble efforts could not even
" make the bars. O ! how can I recol-
" icdt thefe moments of horror, and be
" fufficiently thankful that I am now in
<c fafety and comfort !
" They remained fome time at the
" door, then they quitted it, and went
" down ftairs. How my heart revived
4 " at
f 109
' at every ftep of their departure ! I fell
' upon my knees, thanked God that he-
* f had preferved me this time, and im-
" plored his farther protection. I was
" rifing from this Ihort prayer, when
" fuddenly I heard a noife in a different
" part of the room, and, on looking
'* round, I perceived the door of a fmall
* clofet open, and two men enter the
" chamber.
" They feized me, and I funk fenfe-
" lefs in their arms ; how long I remain*
t( ed in this condition I know not, but,
" on reviving, I perceived myfelf again
" alone, and heard feveral voices from
" below flairs. I had prefence of mind
" to run to the door of the clofet, which
c< afforded the only chance of efcape ;
" but it was locked ! I then recollected
" it was poffible, that the ruffians might
" have forgot to turn the key of the
" chamber door, which was held by the
" chair ; but here, alfo, I was difap-
" .pointed.
C no ]
" difappointed. I clafped my hands in
" an agony of defpair, and ftood for
" fome time immoveabie.
" A violent noife from below rouzed
" me, and foon after I heard people
" afcending the ftairs : 1 now gave my-'
" felf up for loft. The fteps approach-
" ed, the door of the clofet was again
" unlocked. I ftood calmly, and again
" faw the men enter the chamber ; I nei-
" ther fpoke, or refilled: the faculties
" of my foul were wrought up beyond
" the power of feeling; as a violent blow
<c on the body ftuns for awhile the lenfe
'* of pain. They led me down ftairs;
" the door of a room below was thrown
" open, and I beheld a ftranger ; it was
" then that my fenks returned; Ifhriek-
" ed, and refitted, but was forced along.
" It is unneceflary to fay thut this ftranger
*' was Monficur La Motte, or to add,
" that I mail for ever blcfs him as my
deliverer."
Adeline
[ III ]
Adeline ceafed to fpeak ; Madame
La Motte remained filent. There were
fome circumftances in Adeline's narrative
which raifed all her curiofity. She afked
if Adeline believed her father to be a
party in this myfterious affair. Adeline,
though it wasimpoffible to doubt that he
had been principally and materially con-
cerned in fome part of it, thought, or
faid fhe thought, he was innocent of any
intention agrainft her life. ' Yet. what
o
tf motive," faid Madame La Motre,
" could there be for a degree of cruelty
" fo apparently unprofitable ?" Here the
inquiry ended ; and Adeline confeffed
fhe had purfued it, till her mind fhrunk
from all farther refearch.
The fympathy which fuch uncommon
misfortune excited, Madame La Motte
now exprefled without referve, and this
cxpreffion of it, ftrengthened the bond of
mutual friendfhip. Adeline felt her fpirits
relieved by the difclofure fhe had made
to
C " 1
to Madame La Motte; and the latter
acknowledged the value of the confi-
dence, by an increafe of affedionate at-
tentions.
CHAP.
C "3 ]
CHAP. IV.
My May of life
Is fail'n into the fear, the yellow leaf."
MACBETH.
" Full oft, unknowing and unknown,
44 He wore his endlefs noons alone,
41 Amid th* autumnal wood :
" Oft was he wont, in hafty fit,
41 Abrupt the f cial board to quit,"
WHARTON,
jL/A Motte had now patted above a
month in this feclufion ; and his wife
had the pleafure to fee him recover tran-
quillity and even cheerfulnefs. In this
pleafure Adeline warmly participated ;
and fhe might juftly have congratulated
herfelf, as one caufe of his restoration ;
her cheerfulnefs and delicate attention
had effected what Madame La Motte's
greater anxiety had failed to accompli (h.
La Motte did not feem regardlefs of her
amiable
[ "4 J
amiable difpofition, and fomctimcs
thanked her in a manner more earneft
than was ufual vvi.h him. She, in her
turn, confidered him as her only protec-
tor, and now felt towards him die affec-
tion of a daughter.
The time fhe had fpcnt in this peace-
ful retirement had fofcened the remem-
brance of pad events, and reftored her
mind to its natural tone : and when
memory brought back to her view her
former fhort and romantic expectations
of happinefs, though fhe gave a figh to
the rapturous illufion, (beliefs lamented
the difappointment, than rejoiced in her
prefrnt (Vcurity and comfort.
But the fatisfaction w^ich La Motte's
cheerfulnefs diffufcd around him was of
fiiort continuence ,- he became fuddenly
gloomy and refer ved ; the fociety of his
family was no longer grateful to him;
and he would fpend whole hours in the
moft fecluded parts of the foreft, devoted
to melancholy, and fecret grief. He did
not,
[ "5 ]
nor, ns formerly, indulge the humour of
his fadnefs, without reftraint, in the pre-
ience of others; he now evidently endea-
voured to conceal it, and affected a cheer-
fulnefs that was too artificial to efcapc
detection.
His fervant Peter, either impelled by
curiofity or kindnefs, fometinres followed
him, unfeen, into the foreft. He ob-
ferved him frequently retire to one parri-
cular fpot, in a remote part, which having
gained, he always difappeared, before Pe-
ter, who was obliged to follow at a dif-
tance, could exactly notice where. All
his endeavours, now prompted by won-
der, and invigorated by difappointment,
were unfuccefsful, and he was ftill com-
pelled to endure the tortures of unfatis-
fied curiofity.
This change in the manners and habits
of her hufband was too confpicuous to
pafs unobferved by Madame La Motte,
who endeavoured, by all the ftratagems
\vhich affection could fuggcft, or female
inven-
invention fupply, to win him to her con-
fidence. He feemed infenfible to the in-
fluence of the fir ft, and withftood the
wiles of the latter. Finding all her ef-
forts infufficicnt to diffipate the glooms
which overhung his mind, or to pene-
trate their fecret caufe, fhc defifted from
farther attempt, and endeavoured to fub-
mit to this myfterious diftrefs.
Week after week elapfed, and the
fame unknown caufe fealed the lips and
corroded the heart of La Motte. The
place of his vifitation in the foreft had
not been traced. Peter had frequently
examined round the fpot where his maf-
ter difappeared, but had never difcovcred
any recefs, which could *be fuppofed to
conceal him. The aftonifhment of the
fervant was at length raifed to an infup-
portable degree, and he communicated
to his miftrefs the fubjedt of it.
The emotion, which this information
excited, me difguifed from Peter, and
reproved him for the means he had taken
to
t "7 1
to gratify his curiofity. But fhe revolved
this circumftance in her thoughts, and
comparing it with the late alteration in
his temper, her uneafinefs was renewed,
and her perplexity confiderablyincreafed.
After much confideration, being unable
to aflign any other motive for his conduct,
fhe began to attribute it to the influence
of illicit paffiori; and her heart, which
now out-ran her judgement, confirmed
the fuppofition, and roufed all the tortu-
ring pangs of jealoufy.
Comparatively fpeaking, (he had ne-
ver known affliction till now: fhe had
abandoned her deareft friends and con-
nections had relinquifhed the gaieties,
the luxuries, and almoft the neceiTaries
of life; fled with her family into exile,
an exile the moft dreary and comfortlefs ;
experiencing the evils of reality, and
thofe of apprehenlion, united : all thefe
flie had patiently endured, fupportedby
the affection of him, for whofe fake fhe
fuffered. Though that affection, indeed,
had
[ u8 ]
had for fome time appeared to be abi-
tcd, fhe had borne its decreafe with foni-
tude; but the laft ftroke of calamity,
hitherto withheld, now came with irre-
fiftible force the love, of which (he
lamented the lofs, (he now believed was
transferred to another.
The operation of flrong. paflion con-
fufes the powers of reafon, and warps
them to -its own particular direction.
Her ufual degree of judgement, unop-
pofed by the influence of her heart,
would probably have pointed out to
Madame La Mottc fo-me circumftances
upon the fubjed of her diftrefs, equivo-
cal, if not contradictory to her fufpicions.
No fjch circumftances appeared to her,
and Ihc did not long hcfitate to decide,
that Adeline was the object of her huf-
band's attachment. Her beauty out of
the queftion, who elfe, indeed, could
it be in a fpot thus fecluded from the
world?
The
C "9 ]
The fame caufe deftroyed, almoft at
the fame moment, her only remaining
comfort; and, when (he wept that me
could no longer look for happineft in the
affection of La Mottc, (he wept alfo,
that (he could no longer feek folace in
the friendmip of Adeline. She had too
great an efteem for her to doubt, at firft,
the integrity of her conduct:, "but, in
fpite of reafon, her heart no longer ex-
panded to her with its ufual warmth of
kindnefs. She fhrunk from her confi-
dence, and, as the fecret broodings of
jealoufy cheriihed her fufpicions, Ihe be-
came lefs kind to her, even in manner.
Adeline, obferving the change, at
firft attributed it to accident, and after-
wards to a temporary difpleafure, arifing
from fome little inadvertency in her con-
duct. She, therefore, increafed her af-
4kluities; but, perceiving, contrary to
all expectation,, that her efforts to pleafe
failed of their ufual confequence, and
that the referve of Madame's manner ra-
[ 120 ]
ther increafed than abated, (he became
ferioufly uneafy, and refolved to feek an
explanation. This Madame La Motte as
feduloufly avoided, and was for fometimc
able to prevent. Adeline, however, too
much intcrefled in the event to yield to
delicate fcruples, prefled the fubjecl: fo
clofely, that Madame was atfirft agitated
and confufed, but at length in vented fomc
idle excufe, and laughed off the affair.
She now faw the neccffity of fubduing
all appearance of referve towards Ade-
line ; and though her heart could not con-
quer the prejudices of pafllon, it taught
her to afiume, with tolerable fuccefs, the
afpedt of kindnefs. Adeline was de-
ceived, and was again at peace. Indeed,
confidence in the fincerity and goodnefs
of others was her .weaknefs. But the
pangs of flifled jealoufy ftruck deeper to
the heart of Madame La Motte, and flic
refolved, at all events, to obtain fome
certainty upon the fubject of her fufpi-
cions.
She
[ "I ]
She now condefcended to an act of
meannefs, which fhe had before defpif-
cd, and ordered Peter to watch the fteps
of his Mafter, in order to difcover, if
poffible, the place of his vifitation ! So
much did paffion win upon her judge-
ment, by time and indulgence, that Ihe
fometimes ventured even to doubt the in-
tegrity of Adeline, and afterwards pro-
ceeded to believe it poflible that the ob-
ject of La Motte's rambles might be an
affignation with her. What fuggefted
this conjecture was, that Adeline fre-
quently took long walks alone in the
forefl, and fometimes was abfent from
the abbey for many hours. This cir-
cumftance, which Madame La Motte
had at firft attributed to Adeline's fond-
nefs for the picturefque beauties of na-
ture, now operated forcibly upon her
imagination, and fhe could view it in no
other light, than as affording an oppor-
tunity for fecret converfation with her
hufband.
VOL. I. F Peter
[ 122 ]
Peter obeyed the orders of his miftrefs
with alacrity, for they were warmly fe-
conded by his own curiofity. All his
endeavours were, however, fruitlefs; he
never dared to follow La Motte near
enough to obfervc the place of his laft
retreat. Her impatience thus heighten-
ed by delay, and her pafiions flimulated
by difficulty, Madame La Motte now
refolved to apply to her hufband for an
explanation of his conduct.
After fome confideration, concerning
the manner mofl likely to fucceed with
him, flie went to La Motte, but when
fhe entered the room where he fat, for-
getting all her concerting addrefs, fhe
fell at his feet, and was, for fome mo-
ments, loft in tears. Surprifed at her at-
titude and diftrefs, he inquired the occa-
lion of it, and was anfwered, that it was
caufed by his own conduft. " My con-
" dudl ! What part of it, pray ? " in-
quired he.
" Your
3
" Your referve, your fecret forrow,
" and frequent abfence from the abbey."
" Is it then fo wonderful, that a man,
" who has loft almoft every thing, fhould
" fometimes lament his misfortunes ? or
(t fo criminal to attempt concealing his
" grief, that he muft be blamed for it
" by thofe, whom he would fave from
" the pain of fharing it ? "
Having uttered thefe words, he quit-
ted the room, leaving Madame La Motte
loft in furprife, but fomewhat relieved
from the prefiure of her former fufpi-
cions. Still, however, (he purfued Ade-
line with an eye of fcrutiny ; and the mafk
of kindnefs would fometimes fall off, and
difcover the features of diftruft. Ade-
line, without exactly knowing why, felt
lefs at cafe and lefs happy in her pref-
fence than formerly ; her fpirits drooped,
and Ihe would often, when alone, weep
at the forlornefs of her condition. For-
merly, her remembrance of paft fuffer-
ings was loft in the friendmip of Madame
Fa La
[ "4 ]
La Motte ; now, though her behaviour
was too guarded to betray any finking
inftance of unkind nefs, there was fome-
thing in her manner which chilled the
hopes of Adeline, unable as Ihe was to
analyfe it. But a circumftance which
foon occurred, fufpended, for a while,
the jealoufy of Madame La Motte, and
roufed her huftiand from his date of
gloomy ftupefadtion.
Peter, having been one day to Au-
boine, for the weekly fupply of provi-
iions, returned with intelligence that
awakened in La Motte new apprehen-
fion and anxiety.
" Oh, Sir! I've heard fomething that
" has aftonifhed me, as well it may,"
cried Peter, " and fo it will you, when
" you come to know it. As I was fland-
" ing in the blackfmith's fhop, while
" the fmith was driving a nail into the
" horfe's (hoe (by the bye, the horfe
" loft it in an odd way, I'll tell you, Sir,
" how it was)*'
4 Nay,
[ "5 ]
" Nay, prithee leave it till another
' time, and go on with your ftory."
" Why then, Sir, as Iwas (landing
" in the blackfmith's fhop, comes in a
" man with a pipe in his month, and a
" large pouch of tobacco in his hand"
" Well what has the pipe to do
" with the ftory ? "
" Nay, Sir, you put me out ; I can't
go on, unlefs you let me tell it my
" own way. As I was faying with a
" pipe in his mouth I think I was
' there, your Honour ?-"
" Yes, yes."
*' He fets himfelf down on the bench,
" and, taking the pipe from his mouth,
" fays to the blackfmith, Neighbour,
" do you know any body of the name of
" La Motte, hereabouts? Blefs your
** Honour, I turned all of a cold fweat
" in a minute ! Is not your Honour
' well, fhall I fetch you any thing ? "
" No but be brief, in your narra
tive."
F La
[ 126 ]
" La Motte ! La Motte ! faid the
" blackfmith, I think I've heard the
" name." " Have you?" faid I,
" your're canning then, for there's no
f( fuch perfon hereabouts, to my know-
" ledge."
" Fool 1 why did you fay that? "
" Becaufe I did not want them to
" know your Honour was here ; and if
* 4 I had not managed very cleverly, they
" would have found me out. There is
'* no fuch perfon, hereabouts, to my
" knowledge, fays I," " Indeed ! fays
" the blackfmith, you know more of
" the neighbourhood than I do then."
<c Aye, fays the man with the pipe,
" that's very true. How came you to
" know fo much of the neighbourhood ?
" I came here twenty-fix years ago,
" come next St. Michael, and you know
" more than I do. How came you to
" know fo much ? "
" With that he put his pipe in his
" mouth, and gave a whiff full in my
" face*
[ "7 3
" face. Lord ! your Honour, I trem-
" bled from head to foot. Nay, as for
" that matter, fays I, I don't know more
" than other people, but I'm fure I
" never heard of fuch a man as that."
" Pray, fays the blackfmith, flaring me
" full in the face, an't you the man that
" was inquiring fome time fince about
" Saint Glair's Abbey ?" " Well,
" what of that ? fays I ; what does that
" prove ? " " Why, they fay, fome-
" body lives in the abbey now, faid the
tf man, turning to the other ; and, for
<c aught 1 know, it may be this fame La
" Motte." ' Aye, or for aught I
*' know either, fays the man with the
* f pipe, getting up from the bench, and
" you know more of this than you'll
" own. I'll lay my life on't, this Mon-
" fieur La Motte lives at the abbey."-
" Aye, fays I, you are out there, for
" he does not live at the abbey now."
" Confound your folly !" cried La
F 4 Motte ;
C .28 ]
Motte ; " but be quick how did the
" matter end ? "
" My Matter does not live there now,
" faid I." Oh ! oh ! faid the man wirh
" the pipe, he is your Mafter, then ?
" And pray how long has he left the
tf abbey and where does he live now ? "
" Hold, faid I, not fo faft I know when
" to fpeak and when to hold my tongue
" but who has been inquiring for
" him?"
" What ! he expefted fomebody to
" inquire for him ? fays the man/'
" No, fays I, he did not, bqt if he did,
" what does that prove ? that argues
" nothing." With that, he looked at the
" blackfmith, and they went out of the
" ihop together, leaving my horfe's fhoe
'* undone. But I never minded that, for
" the moment they were gone, I mount-
" ed and rode away as faft as I could.
" But in my fright, your Honour, I for-
" got to take the round-about way, and
" fo came ftraight home."
La
C 129 ]
La Motte, extremely fhocked at
Peter's intelligence, made no other re-
ply than by curfing his folly, and im-
mediately went in fearch of Madame,
who was walking with Adeline on the
banks of the river. La Motte was too
much agitated to foften his information
by preface : " We are difcovered ! "
faid he, " the King's officers have been
" inquiring for me at Auboine, and
" Peter has blundered upon my ruin ! "
He then informed her of what Peter had
related, and bade her prepare to quit the
abbey.
" But wlHth'er can we fly ? " faid Ma-
dame La Motte, fcarcely able to fupport
herfelf. " Any where !" faid he, " to
t( flay here is certain deftruction. We
" muft take refuge in Switzerland, I
"think. If any part of France would
" have concealed me, furely it had been
"-this!"-
" Alas, how are we perfecuted !" re-
joined Madame. " This fpot is fcarcely
F 5 " made
C
" made comfortable, before we are-
" obliged to leave it, and go we know
" not whither."
" I wifh we may not know whither,"
replied La Motte, " that is the lead
" evil that threatens us. Let us efcape
" a prifcui, and I care not whither we
" go. But return ta the abbey imme-
" diately, and pack, up what moveables
(t you can." A flood of tears came to.
the relief of Madame L,a Motte, and fhe.
hung upon Adeline's arm, filent and
trembling. Adeline, though fhe had no
comfort to beftow, endeavoured to com-
mand her feelings and appear compofed.
" Come," faid La Motte, " we wafte
" time ; let us lament hereafter, but at
" prefent prepare for flight. Exert a
" little of that fortitude, which is fo ne-
" ceflary for our prefervatioru Adeline
" does not weep, yet her flate is as
" wretched as your own, for I know
" not how long I lhall be able to pro-
ted her."
Notwith-
[ '3' ]
Notwithftanding her terror, this re-
proof touched the pride of Madame La
Motte, who dried her tears, but difdain-
ed to reply, and looked at Adeline with
a ftrong expreflion of difpleafure. As
they moved filently toward the abbey,
Adeline afked La Motte if he was fure
they were the King's officers, who in-
quired for him. t I cannot doubt
" it," he replied ; " whoelfe could pof-
" fibly inquire for me? Beiides, the be-
" haviour of the man, who mentioned
" my name, puts the matter beyond a
" queftion."
" Perhaps not," faid Madame La
Motte : " let us wait till morning ere
" we fet off. We may then find it will
" be unneceffary to -go.""'
" We may, indeed ;. the King's of--
" ficers would probably b'y that time'
" have told us as much." La Motte
went to give orders to Peter. " Set off
" in an hour," laid Peter, " Lord blefs
" you, Matter ! only confider the coach-
E 6 " wheel ;
r
" wheel : it would take me a day at
" lead to mend it, for your Honour
" knows I never mended one in my
" life."
This was a circumftance which La
Motte had entirely overlooked. When
they fettled at the abbey, Peter had at
firfl been too bufy in repairing the apart-
ments, to remember the carriage, and af-
terwards, believing it would not quickly
be wanted, he had neglected to do it.
La Motte's temper now entirely forfook
him, and with many execrations he or-
dered Peter to go to work immediately :
but on fearching for the materials for-
merly bought, they were no where to be
found, and Peter at length remembered,
though he was prudent enough to con-
ceal this circumftance, that he had uled
the nails in repairing the abbey.
It was now, therefore, impoflible to
quit the foreft that night, and La Motte
had only to conlider the moft probable
plan of concealment, Ihould the officers
of
of juftice vifit the ruin before the morn-
ing; a circumftance, which the thought-
leflhefs of Peter in returning from Au-
boine by the flraight way, made not un-
likely.
At firft, indeed, it occurred to him,
that though his family could not be re-
moved, he might himfelf take one of the
horfes, and efcape from the forefl before
night. But he thought there would ftill
be fome danger of detection in the towns
through which he muft pafs, and he
could not well bear the idea of leaving
his family unprotected, without knowing
when he could return to tjjem, or whi-
ther he could direct them to follow him.
La Motte was not a man of very vigorous
refolution, and he was, perhaps, rather
more willing to fuffer in company than
alone.
After much confederation, he recol-
lected the trap-door of the clofet belong-
ing to the chambers above : it was in-
vifible to the- eye, and, whatever might
be
C '34 I
be its direction, it would fccurely flicker
him, at leafl, from difcovery. Having
deliberated farther upon the fubject, he
determined to explore the recefs to
which the flairs led, and thought it pof-
fible, that for a fhort time his whole fa-
mily might be concealed within it.
There was little time between the fng-
gcflion of the plan and the execution of
his purpofe, for darknefs was fpreading
around, and, in every murmur of the
wind, he thought he heard, the voices of
his enemies.
He called for a light and afcended
alone to the chamber. When he came
to the clofet, it was fome time before he
could find the trap-door, fo exactly did
it correfpond with the boards of the floor.
At length, he found and raifed it. The
chill damps of long-confined air rufhed
from the aperture, and he flood for a mo-
ment to let them pafs, ere he defcended.
As he flood looking down the abyfs, he
recollected the report, which Peter had
brought
[ '35 1
brough concerning theabbey,and it gave
him an uneafy fenfation ; but this foon
yield to more prefiing interefts.
The ftairs were fleep, and in many
places trembled beneath his weight.
Having contin-ued to defcend for fome
time, his feet touched the ground, and
he found himfelf in a narrow paflage ;
but as he turned to purfue it, the damp
vapours courled round him and extin-
gnifned the light. He called aloud for
Peter, but could make no. body hear,
and, after fome time, he'endeavoured to
find his way up the ftairs. In this, with
difficulty, he fucceeded, and, paffing the
chambers with cautious fteps, defcended
the tower.
The fecurity, which the place he had
juft quitted feemed to promife, was of
too much importance to be flightly re-
jected, and he determined immediately
to make another experiment with the
light: having now fixed it in a lanthorn,
he defccnded a fccond time to the paf-
fage.
J
fage. The current of vapours occaficned
by the opening of the trap-door was
abated, and the frefh air thence admit-
ted had began to circulate ; La Motte
paffed on unmolefted.
Thepaflage was of confiderable length,
and led him to a door, which was faf-
tened. He placed the lanthorn at fome
diftance, to avoid the current of air, and
applied his ftrength to the door : it fhook
under his hands, but did not yield. Upon
eximining it more clofely, he perceived
the wood round the lock was decayed,
probably by the damps, and this en-
couraged him to proceed. After fome
time it gave way to his effort, and he
found himfelf in afquare ftone room.
He flood for fome time to furvey it.
The walls, which were dripping with un-
vvholefome dews, were entirely bare, and
afforded not even a window. A fin all
iron grate alone admitted the air. At
the farther end, near a low recefs, was
another door. La Motte went towards
[ 137 ]
it, and, as he patted, looked into the re-
cefs. Upon the ground within it, flood
a large chefl, which he went forward to
examine, and, lifting the lid, he faw the
remains of a human fkeleton. Horror
fhuck upon his heart, and he involun-
tarily flopped back. During a paufe of
fome moments, his firfl emotions fubfi-
ded. That thrilling curiofity, which ob-
jefts of terror often excite in the human
mind, impelled him to take a fecond
view of this difmal fpec~lacle.
La Mottc flood motionlefs as he gaz-
ed ; the object before him feemed to con-
firm the report that fome perfon had for-
merly been murdered in the Abbey. At
length he clofed the chefl, and advan-
ced to the fecond door, which alfo was
faflened, but the key was in the lock. He
turned it with difficulty, and then found
the door was held by two flrong bolts.
Having undrawn thefe, it difclofed a
flight of fleps, which he defcended :
they terminated in a chain of low vaults,
or
or rather cells, that, from the manner of
their conflruction and prefent condition,
feemed to have been coeval with the
mod ancient parts of the Abbey. La
Motte,in his thendeprefled ftateof mind,
thought them the burial places of the
monks, who formerly inhabited the pile
above; but they were more calculated for
places of penance for the living, than of
reft for the dead.
Having reached the extremity of thefc
cells, the way was again clofed by a door
La Motte now hefitated whether he
Ihould attempt to proceed any farther.
The prefent fpot feemed to afford the
fecurity he fought. Here he might pafs
the night unmoleftcd by apprehenfiou
of difcovery, and it was moft probable,
that if the officers arrived in the night
and found the abbey vacated, they would
quit it before morning, or, at leaft, be-
fore he could have any occafion to
emerge from concealment. Thefe con-
fideratibns reftored his mind to a (late of
greater
[ '39 1
greater compofure. His only immediate
care was to bring his family, as foon as
poffible, to this place of fecurity, left the
officers fhould come unawares upon
them; and, while he ftood thus muting,
he blamed himfelf for delay.
But an irrefiftible defire of knowing to
what this door led, arrefted his fteps,
and he turned to open it : the door,
however, was fattened, and, as he at-
tempted to force it, he fuddenly thought
he heard a noife above. It now occur-
red to him, that the officers might already
have arrived, and he quitted the cells
with precipitation, intending to liften at
the trap-door.
" There, faid he, I may wait in fecu-
t( rity, and perhaps hear fomething of
" what pafies. My family will not be
known, or, at lead, not hurt, and their
uneafinefs on my account, they muft
learn to endure/'
Thefe were the arguments of La
Motte, in which it muft be owned, fel-
fiih
J
fifh prudence was more con fpicous than
tender anxiety for his wife. He had by
this time reached the bottom of the flairs,
when, on looking up, he perceived the
trap-door was left open, and afcending in
hafte to clofe it, he heard footfteps ad-
vancing through the chambers above.
Before he could defcend entirely out of
fight, he again looked up and perceived
through the aperture the face of a man
looking down upon him. " Mafter,"
cried Peter ; La Motte was fomewhat
relieved at the found of his vioce^
though angry that he had occafioned
him fo much terror.
" What brings you here, and what is
" the matter below ? }>
" Nothing, Sir, nothing's the matter,
" only my miftrefs fent me to fee after
" your Honour."
" There's nobody there then," faid
La Motte, " fetting his foot upon the
" ftep."
Yes,
C
" Yes, Sir, there is my miftrefs and
" Mademoifelle Adeline"
Wellwell/' faid La Mote, brifk-
ly go your ways, I am coming."
He informed Madame La Motte
where he had been and of his intention
to fecrete himfelf, and deliberated upon
the means of convincing the officers,
Ihould they arrive, that he had quitted
the abbey. For this purpofe, he or*
dered all the moveable furniture to be
conveyed to the cells below. La Motte
himfelf afliiled in the bufinefs, and every
hand was employed for difpatch. In a
very fhort time, the habitable part of the
fabric was left almoft as defolate as he
had found it. He then bade Peter take
the horfes to a diftance from the abbey,
and turn them loofe. After farther con-
fideration, he thought itmight contribute
to miflead the officers, if he placed in
fome confpicuous part of the fabric an
infcription, fignifying his condition, and
mentioning the date of his departure
from
L
from the abbey. Over the door of the
tower, which led to the habitable part
of the ftrudture, he therefore, cut the
followin lines :
" O ye ! whom misfortue may lead to this fpot,
'* Learn that there are others as miferable as your-
" felves."
P - L M a wretched exile, fought
within thefe walls a refuge from perfecution, on
the 2;th of April 1658, and quitted them on the
12th of July in the fame year, in fearch of a
more convenient afylum.
After engraving thefe words with a knife,
the fmall (lock of proviiions remaining
from the week's fupply (for Peter, iu
his fright, had returned unloaded from
his laft journey) was put into a bafket,
and La Mocte having afTembled his
family, they all afcended the flairs of the
tower, and patted through the chambers
to the clofet. Peter went firft with a
light, and with fome difficulty found the
trap- door. Madame La Motte fhud-
dered
C 143 3
dercd as (he furveyed the gloomy abyfs ;
but they were all filent.
La Motte now took the light and led
the way ; Madame followed, and then
Adeline. " Thefe old Monks loved good
" wine, as well as other people," faid
Peter, who brought up the rear, " I war-
*' rant your Honour, now, this was their
*' cellar ; I fmell the cafks already."
" Peace," faid La Motte, " referve
" your jokes for a proper occafion."
" There is no harm in loving good
** wine, as your honour knows."
" Have done with this buffoonery,"
faid La Motte, in a tone more authori-
tative, " and go firfl." Peter obeyed.
They came to the vaulted room. The
difmal fpectacle he had feen here, deter-
red La Motte from paffing the night in
this chamber; and the furniture had, by
his own order, been conveyed to the cells
below. He was anxious that his family
Ihould not perceive the ikeleton ; an ob-
ject, which would, probably, excite a
degree
I '44 ]
degree of horror not to be overcome du-
ing their (lay. La Motte now pafled the
cheil in hafte; and Madame La Motte
and Adeline were too much engrofied by
their own thoughts, to give minute at-
tention to external circumftances.
"When they reached the cells, Madame
La Motte wept at the neceffity which
condemned her to a fpot fo difmal.
<c Alas/' faid fhe, " are we indeed, thus
*' reduced ! The apartments above, for-
* f merly appeared to me a deplorable ha-
t( bitation ; but they are a palace com-
*' pared to thefe."
" True, my dear," faid La Motte,
" and let the remembrance of what you
" once thought them, footh your dif-.
" content now : thefe cells are alfo a
*' palace, compared to the Bicetre, or the
" Baflile, and to the terrors of farther
" punifhment, which would accompany
" them : let the apprehenfion of the
" greater evil teach you to endure the
< lefs
C '45 ]
** lefs ; I am contented if we find here
" the refuge I feek.
Madame LaMottewas filent, and Ade-
line, forgetting her late unkindnefs, en-
deavoured as much as fhe could to confole
her; while her heart was finking with
the misfortunes, which fhe could not
but anticipate, fhe appeared compofed,
and even cheerful. She attended Ma-
dame La Motte with the moft watchful
folicitude, and felt fo thankful that La
Motte was now fecreted within this re-
cefs, that Ihe almoft loft all perception
of its glooms and inconveniences.
This fhe artlefsly exprefled to him,
who could not be infenfible to the ten-
derncfs it difcovered. Madame La Motte
was alfo feniible of it, and it renewed a
painful fenfation. The effufions of grati-
tude fhe miftook forthofeof tendernefs.
La Motte returned frequently to the
trap-door, to liften if any body was in
the abbey ; but no found difturbed the
ftillnefs of night ; at length they fat down
VOL. I. G to
C 146 ]
to fupper; the repaft was a melancholy
one. " If the officers do not come
" hither to night/* faid Madame La
Motte, fighing, "fuppofe, my dear, Pe-
" ter returns to Auboine to-morrow; he
" may there learn fomething more of
" this affair; or, at leaft, he might pro-
" cure a carriage to convey us hence."
" To be fure he might," faid La
Motte, peevifhly, " and people to attend
" it alfo. Peter would be an excellent
" perfon to fhew the officers the way
" to the abbey, and to inform them of
" what they might elfe be in doubt
" about, my concealment here."
" How cruel is this irony ! " replied
Madame La Motte, " I propofed only
" what I thought would be for our mu-
" tual good; my judgement was, per-
'* haps, wrong, but my intention was
(t certainly right." Tears fwelled into
her eyes as fhe fpoke thefe words. Ade-
line wifhed to relieve her ; but delicacy
kept her filent. La motte obferved the
[ 147 3
of his fpeech, and fomething like
remorfe touched his heart. He ap-
proached, and taking her hand, " You
" muft allow for the perturbation of my
" mind," faid he, " I did not mean to
ec affluft you thus. The idea of fending
<c Peter to Auboine, where he has already
<c done fo much harm by his blunders,
" teazed me, and I could not let it pafs
<f unnoticed. No, my dear, our only
" chance of fafety is to remain where we
" are while our provifions laft. If the
(t officers do not come here to-night,
" they probably will to-morrow, or,
" perhaps, the next day. When they
c< have fearched the abbey, without find-
" ing me, they will depart ; we may
" then emerge from this recefs, and take
" meafures for removing to a diflant
** country."
Madame La Mottc acknowledged the
julrnefs of his remarks, and her mind being
relieved by the little apology he had
made, fhe became tolerably cheerful.
G 2 Supper
Supper being ended, La Motte ftationed
the faithful, though fimple, Peter, at the
foot of the fteps that afcended to the
clofet, there to keep watch during the
night. Having done this, he returned
to the lower cells, where he had left his
little family The beds were fpread,
and having mournfully bade each other
good night, they laid down, and im-
plore^ reft.
Adeline's thoughts were too bufy to
fuffer her to repoie, and when ihe be-
lieved her companions were funk in Hum-
ber, Ihe indulged the forrow . which
refie&ion brought. She alfo looked for-
O
ward to the future with the moft mourn-
ful appreheniion. " Should La Motte
" be feized, what was to become of
" her? She would then be a wanderer in
" the wide world ; without friends to
" protect, or money to fnpport her ; the
" profpedt was gloomy was terrible ! "
She furveycd it and fhuddered ! The dif-
treffes too of Monfieur and Madame La
Motte,
[ 149 ]
Motte, whom me loved with the moft
lively affe&ion, formed no inconfider-
able part of her's.
Sometimes flie looked back to her fa-
ther ; but in him flie only faw an enemy,
from whom fhe muft fly : this remem-
brance heightened her for row ; yet it was
not the recollection of the fuffering he
had occafioned her, by which flie was fo
much afflicted, as by the fenfe of his un-
kindnefs: flie. wept bitterly. At length,
with that artlefs piety, which innocence
only knows, flie addrefTed the Supreme
Being, and refigned herfelf to his care.
Her mind then gradually became peace-
ful and re-allured, and foon after fli6
funk to repofe.
G 3 CHAP.
150
CHAP. V.
A Surprize An Adventure A Myftery*
JL HE night paffed without any alarm;
Peter had remained upon his pod, and
heard nothing that prevented hisfleeping.
La Motte heard him, long before he faw
him, moft mufically fnoring ; though it
muft be owned there was more of the
bafs, than of any other part of the gamut
in his performance. He was foon roufed
by the bravura of La Motte, whofe notes
founded difcord to his ears, and deflroycd
the torpor of his tranquillity.
" God blefs you, Matter, what's the
" matter ?" cried Peter, waking; "are
" they come ? "
" Yes, for aught you care, they might
" be
[ '5' 3
" be come. Did I place you here to
' fleep, firrah?"
" Blefs you, Mafter," returned Peter,
fl fleep is the only comfort to be had
" here; I'm fure I would not deny it to
" a dog in fuch a place as this."
La Motte fternly queftionedhim con-
cerning any noife he might have heard
in the night, and Peter full as folemnly
protefted he had heard none ; an afler-
tion which was ftritly true, for he had
enjoyed the comfort of being afleep the
whole time.
La Motte afcended to the trap door
and liftened attentively. No founds
were heard, and, as he ventured to lift it,
the full light of the fun burft upon his
fight, the morning being now far ad-
vanced ; he walked foftly along the
chambers, and looked through a win-
dow ; no pcrfon was to be feen. En-
couraged by his apparent fecurity, he
ventured down the flairs of the tower,
and entered the firft apartment. He was
G 4 proceeding
[ '5* 3
proceeding towards the fecond, when,
fuddenly recolle&ing himfelf he firft
peeped through the crevice of the door,
which ftood half open. Ke looked, and
diflindlly faw a perfon fitting near the
window, upon which his arm refted,
The difcovery fo much Ihocked him,
that for a moment he loft all prefence of
mind, and was utterly unable to move
form the fpot. The perfon, whofc back
was towards him, arofe, and turned his
head. La -Mote now recovered himfelf,
and quitting the appartment as quickly,
and, at the fame time, as filently as
poffible, afcended to the clofet. He
raifed the trap door, but before he clofed
it, heard the foot fie ps of a perfon enter-
ing the outer chamber. Bolts, or other
fallen ing to the trap there were none ;
and his fecurity depended folely upon
the exact correfpondcnce of the boards.
The outer door of the ftone room had
no means of defence ; and the faftenings
of the inner one were on the wrong fide
to
[ '53 ]
to afford him fecurity, even till fomc
means of efcape could be found.
When he reached this room, he pau-
fed, and heard diftindlly, perfons walk-
ing in the clofet above. While he was
liftening, he heard a voice call him by
name, and he inftantly fled to the cells
belovv, expecting every moment to hear
the trap lifted, and the foorftcps of pur-
fuit ; but* he was fled beyond the reach
of hearing either. Having thrown him-
felf on the ground, at the fa'rtheft ex-
tremity of the vaults, he lay for fome
time breathlefs with agitation. Midame
La Motte and Adeline, in the utmoft
terror, inquired what had happened. It
was fome time before he could fpeak ;
when he did it was almoft unncceflary,
for the diftant noifes, which founded
from above, informed the family of a
part of the truth.
The founds did not feem to approach,
but Madame La Matte, unable to com-
mand her terror, fhrieked aloud : this re-
G 5 doubled
C '54 ]
doubled the diftrefs of La Motte.
" You have deftroyed me," cried he;
" that fhriek has informed them where
" I am." He traverfed the cells with
clafped hand and quick fteps. Adeline
flood pale and ftill as death, fupporting
Madame La Motte, whom, with diffi-
culty, me prevented from fainting. " O !
" Dupras ! Dupras ! you are already
" avenged!" faid he, in a voice that
feemed to burft from his heart : there
was a paufe of filence. " But why
" mould I deceive myfelf with a hope
" of efcaping ? " he refumed, " why do I
" wait here for their coming ? Let me
" rather end thefe torturing pangs by
" throwing myfelf into their hands at
" once,"
As he fpoke, he moved towards the
door, but the diftrefs of Madame La
Motte arrefted his fteps. " Stay," faid
Ihe, " for my fake, llay ; do not leave
" me thus, nor throw yourfelf volun-
* tarily upon deftru&ion ! "
" Surely,
C 155 ]
" Surely, Sir," faid Adeline, *< you
'* are too precipitate j this defpair is ufe-
<c lefs, as it is ill-founded. We hear no
" perfon approaching ; if the officers
" had difcovered the trap-door, they
" would certainly have been here before-
" now." The words of Adeline ftilled
the tumult of his mind : the agitation of
terror fubfided ; and reafon beamed a
feeble ray upon his hopes. He Hftened
attentively, and perceiving that all was
filent, advanced with caution to theftone
room, and thence to the foot of the
flairs that led to the trap-door. It was
clofed ; no found was heard above.
He watched a long time, and the fi-
lence continuing, his hopes ftrengthened^
and, at length he began to believe that
the officers had quitted the abbey ; the
day, however, was fpent in anxious
watchful nefs. He did not dare to un-
clofe the trap-door ; and he frequently
thought he heard diftant noifes. It was
evident, however, that the fecret of the
G 6 clofet
C 156 ]
clofet had efcaped difcovery.; and on
this circumftance he juftly founded his
fecurity. The following night was paf-
fed, like the day, in trembling hope, and
inceflant watching.
But the neceffities of hunger now
threatened them. The provifions, which
had been diftributed with the niceft eco-
nomy were nearly exhaufted, and the
mod deplorable confequences niight be
expected from their remaining longer in
concealment. Thus circumftanced, La
Motte deliberated upon the moft pru-
dent method of proceeding. There
appeared no other alternative, than to
lend Peter to Auboine, the only town
from which he could return within the
timeprefcribed by their necefiities. There
was game, indeed, in the forcft ; but
Peter could neither handle a gun, or ufe
a fiihing rod to any advantage.
It was, therefore, agreed he mould go
to Auboine for a fupply of provifions,
and at the fame time bring materials for
mending
C 157 ]
mending the coach wheel, that they
might have fome ready conveyance from
the foreft, La Motte forbade Peter to
afk any queftions concrning the people
who had inquired for him, or take any
methods for difcovering whether they
had quitted the country, left his blunders
Ihould again betray him. He ordered
him to be entirely iilent as to thefe fub-
jedts, and to finifh his bufinefs, and leave
the place with all poflible difpatch.
A difficulty yet remained to be over-
come Who (hould firft venture abroad
into the abbey, to learn whether it was
vacated by the officers of juftice ? La
Motte confidered, that if he was again
feen, he mould be effectually betrayed ;
which could not be Jo certain, if one of
his family was obferved, for they were
each unknown to the officers. It was
neceflary, however, that the perfon he
fent mould have courage enough to go
through with the inquiry, and wit enough
to conduct it with caution. Peter, per-
2 haps,
C 158 ]
haps, had the firft; but was certainly
deftitute of the lail. Annette had nei-
ther. La Motte looked at his wife, and
afked her, if, for his fake, ftie dared to
venture. Her heart Ihrunk from the
propofal, yet (he was unwilling to re-
fufc, or appear indifferent upon a point
fo eflential to the fafety of her hufband.
Adeline obferved in her countenance the
agitation of her mind, and, furmounting
the fears, which had hitherto kept her
filent, fhe offered herfclf to go.
" They will be lefs likely to offend
" me," faid me, " than a man." Shame
would not fuffer La Motte to accept her
offer; and Madame, touched by the
magnanimity of her conduct, felt a mo-
mentary renewal of all her former kind-
nefs. Adeline preffed her propofal fo
warmly, and feemed fo much in earneft,
that Li Moue began to hcfitate. " You,
" Sir," faid fhe, " once preferv.ed me
<( from the mod imminent danger, and
" your kindnefs has fmce protected me.
" Da
C 159 ]
11 Do not refufe me the fatisfaction of
" deferving your gooclnefs by a grate-
" ful return of it. Let me go into the
<e abbey, and if, by fo doing, I fhould
" preferve you from evil, I lhall be fuf-
" ficiently rewarded for what little dan-
(t ger 1 may incur, for my pleafure will
" be at leaft equal to yours."
Madame La Motte could fcarcely re-
frain from tears as Adeline fpoke ; and
La Motte, fighing deeply, faid, " Well,
" be it fo; go, Adeline, and from this
'* moment confider me as your debtor."
Adeline flayed not to reply, but taking
a light, quitted the cells, La Motte
following to raife the trap-door, and
cautioning her to look, if poffible, into
every apartment, before fhe entered it,
" If you fhould be feen," faid he, " you
te mud account for your appearance fo
" as not to difcover me. Your own pre-
" fence of mind may affift you, I cannot.
God blefs you ! "
When
L 160 ]
When fhe was gone, Madame La
Motte's admiration of her conduct began
to yield to other emotions. Diftruft gra-
dually undermined kindne r s, and jea-
loufy raifed lufpicions " It muft be a
t( fentiment more powerful than grati-
*' tude, " thought fhe, <* thit could
" teach Adeline to fubdue her fears.
*' What, but love, could influence her
" to a conduct fo generous ! " Madame
La M ;tte, when fhe found it impoffibie
to account for Adeline's conduct, with-
out alledging iome intereft^d motive
for it, hoxvevcr her fufpicions might
agree with the practice of the world, had
furely forgotten how much fhe once ad-
mired the purity and difmtereftednefs of
her young friend.
Adeline, m?an while, afcended to
the chambers : the cheerful beams of the
fun played once more upon her fight,
and re-animated her fpirits; (he walked
lightly through the apartments, nor
flopped till fhe came to the flairs of the
tower.
tower. Here flic flood for fome time,
but no founds met her ear, fave the figh-
ing of the wind among the trees, and,
at length, fhe defcended. She- pafled
the apartments below, without feeing
any perfon ; and the little furniture that
remained, feemed to (land exactly as fhe
had left it. She now ventured to look
out from the tower : the only animate
objects that appeared were the deer,
quietly grazing under the fhade of the
woods. Her favourite little fawn diflin-
guifhed Adeline, and came bounding to.
wards her with ftrong marks of joy. She
was fomewhat alarmed left the animal,
being obferved, fhould betray her, and
walked fwiftly away through the cloifters.
She opened the door that led to the
great hall of the abbey, but the pafiage
was fo gloomy and dark, that fhe feared
to enter it, and darted back. It was ne-
ceflary, however, that Ihe fhould exa-
mine farther, particularly on the oppofite
fide of the ruin, of which fhe had hitherto
had
[ 162 ]
had no view : but her fears returned
when Ihe recollected how far it would
lead her from her only place of refuge,
and how difficult it would be to retreat.
She hefitated what to do ; but when fhe
recollected her obligations to La Motte,
and confidered this as, perhaps, her
only opportunity of doing him a fervice,
fhe determined to proceed.
As thefe thoughts pafTed rapidly over
her mind, fhe raifed her innocent looks to
heaven, and breathed a filent prayer.
With trembling fteps fhe proceeded over
fragments of the ruin, looking anxioufly
around, and often darting as the breeze
ruftled among the trees, miftaking it for
the whifperings of men. She came to
the lawn which fronted the fabric, but
no perfon was to be feen, and her fpirits
revived. The great door of the hall fhe
now endeavoured to open, but fuddenly
remembering that it was fattened by La
Motte's orders, fhe proceeded to the
north end of the abbey, and, having fui-
veyed
veyed the profpedt around, as far as the
thick foliage of the trees would permit,
without perceiving any perfon, fhe turn-
'ed her fteps to the tower from which fhe
had hTued.
Adeline was now light of heart, and
returned with impatience to inform La
Motte of his fecurity. In the cloifters
fhe was again met by her little favourite,
and flopped for a moment to d*refs it.
The fawn feemed fenfible to the found
of her voice, and difcovered new joy ;
but while fhe fpoke, it fuddenly ftarted
from her hand, and looking up, fhe
perceived the doer of the paflage, lead-
ing to the great hall, open, and a man
in the habit of a foldier iflue forth.
With the fwiftnefs of an arrow fhe
fled along the cloifters, nor once ven-
tured to look back ; but a voice called to
her to ftop, and fhe heard fteps ad-
vancing quick in purfuit. Before fhe
could reach the tower, her breath failed
her, and fhe leaned againfl a pillar of
4 the
C 164 ]
^
the cloifter, pale andcxhaufted. The man
came up, and gazing at hi:r with a ftrong
expreflion of furprize afel curiofity, he
aflumed a gentle manner, aJfared her ihe
had nothing to fear, and inquired if (he
belonged to La Motte : obferving that
Ihe ftill looked terrified and remained
filent, he repeated his affurances and
his queflion.
" i'tJuow that he is concealed within
" the ruin," faid the ftranger ; " the oc-
(t cafion of his concealment I alfo know;
" but it is of the utmoft importance I
" fliould fee him, and he will then be
" convinced he has nothing to fear from
" me." Adeline trembled fo exceflively,
that it was with difficulty Ihe could fup-
portherfelf fhe hefitated, and knew not
what to reply. Her manner feemed to
confirm the fufpicions of the ftranger,
and her confcioufnefs of this increafed
her embarraffment : he took advantage
of it to prefs her farther. Adeline> at
length, replied, that " La Motte had
" fome
" fome time fince refided at the abbey."
" And does ftill, Madam," faid the
ftranger; " lead me to where he may
" be found I muft fee him, and "
" Never, Sir," replied Adeline, " and
" T folemnly affure you, it will be in
" vain to fearch for him."
"That I muft try, " refumed he,
" iince you, Madam, will not aflift me.
u I have already followed him to fome
" chambers above, where I fuddenly
" loft him : thereabouts he muft be
" concealed, and it's plain, therefore,
" they afford fome fecret paffage."
Without waiting Adeline's reply, he
fprung to the door of the tower. She
now thought it would betray a confciouf-
nefs of the truth of his conjecture to fol-
low him, and refolved to remain below.
But, on farther confideration, it occur-
red to her, that he might fteal filently
into the ciofet, and poflibly furprize La
Motte at the door of the trap. She,
therefore, haftened after him, that her
voice
[ 166 J
voice might prevent the danger fhe ap-
prehended. He was already in the fe-
cond chamber, when flie overtook him ;
ihe immediately began to fpeak aloud.
This room he fearched with the moft
fcrupulous care, but finding no private
door, or other outlet, he proceeded to
the clofet : then it was, that it required
all her fortitude to conceal her agitation.
He continued the fearch. " Within
" thefe chambers I know he is con-
" cealed," faid he, " though hitherto
" I have not been able to difcover how.
** It was hither I followed a man, whom
* l I believe to be him, and he could not
" efcape without a paflage; I fhall not
" quit the place till I have found it."
He examined the walls and the boards,
but without difcovering the divifion of
the floor, which, indeed, fo exactly cor-
refponded, that La Motte himfelf had
not perceived it by the eye, but by the
trembling of the floor beneath his feet.
*' Here is fome myftery," faid the ftran-
ger, " which I cannot comprehend, and
" perhaps never fhall." He was turning
to quit the clofet, when who can paint
the diftrefs of Adeline, upon feeing the
trap-door gently raifed, and La Mottc
himfelf appear. " Hah ! " cried the
ftranger, advancing eagerly to him. La
Motte fprang forward, and they were
locked in each other's arms.
The aftonifhment of Adeline, for a
moment, furpafied even her former dif-
trefs ; but a remembrance darted acrofs
her mind, which explained the prefent
fcene, and before La Motte could ex-
claim, " My fon ! " ihe knew the flran-
ger as fuch. Peter, who flood at the
foot of the flairs and heard what paffed
above, flew to acquaint his miftrefs with
the joyful difcovery, and, in a few mo-
ments, fhe was folded in the embrace of
her fon. This fpot, fo lately the manfion
of defpair, feemed metamorphofed into
the palace of pleafure, and the walls
echoed
[ i68 ]
echoed only to the accents of joy and
congratulation.
The joy of Peter on this occafion was.
beyond expreflion : he acted a perfect
pantomime he capered about, clapped
his hands ran to his young matter
fhook him by the hand, in fpite of the
frowns of La Motte ; ran every where,
without knowing for what, and gave
no rational anfwer to any thing that was
faid to him.
After their firft emotions were fub-
fided, La Motte, as if fuddenly recol-
lecting himfelf, refumed his wonted fo-
lemnity : " I am to blame," faid he,
" thus to give way to joy, when 1 am
" ftill, perhaps, furrounded by danger.
" Let us fecure a retreat while it is yet
" in our power," continued he, <f in a
few hours the King's officers may fearch
" for me again."
Louis comprehended his father's
words, and immediately relieved hisap-
prehenfions by the following relation :
" A letter
[ 169 ]
" A letter from Monfieur Nemours,'
" containing an account of your flight
" from Paris, reached me at Pe-'onne,
" where I was then upon duty with my
Cf regiment. He mentioned, that you
" was gone towards the fouth of France,
" but as he had not fince heard from
" you, he was ignorant of the place of
" your refuge. It was about this time
" that I was difpatched into Flanders;
1 ' and, being unable to obtain farther in-
<( telligenceof you, I patted fome weeks
" of very painful folicitude. At the
" conclufion of the campaign, loBtained
" leave of abfence, and immediately fet
<( out for Paris, hoping to learn from
" Nemours, where you had found an
" afylum.
" Of this, however, he was equally
" ignorant with myfelf. He informed
" me that you had once before written
te to him from D , upon your fecond
' f day's journey from Paris, under an
" affumed name, as had been agreed
VOL. I. H " upon;
[ -7 ]
ff upon ; and that you then faid the fear
" of difcovery would prevent your
ft hazarding another letter: he there-
" fore, remained ignorant of your
" abode, but faid, he had no doubt you
" had continued your journey to tbe
ft fouthward. Upon this flender infor-
" mation I quitted Paris in fearch of
" you, and proceeded immediately to
" V , where my inquiries, concern-
" ing your farther progrefs, were fuc-
" cefsful as far as M . There they
" rold me you had ftaid fome time, on
" account of the illnefs of a young lady ;
" a circumftance which perplexed me
" much, as I could not imagine what
" young lady would accompany you. I
" proceeded, however, to L ; but
" there all traces of you feemed to be
" loft. As I fat mufing at the window
" of the inn, 1 obfervcd fome fcribbling
<c on the glafs, and thecuriofity of idle-
" ncfs prompted me to read it. I thought
" I knew the characters, and the lines I
" read
C
" read confirmed my conjeclurr, for I
c< remembered to have heard you often
" repeat them.
" Here I renewed my inquiries con-
" cerning your route, and at length I
" made the people of the inn recollect
" you, and traced you as far as Auboine.
" There I again loft you, till upon my re-
" turn from a fruitlefs inquiry hi the
" neighbourhood,the landlord ofthe little
" inn where 1 lodged, told me he believed
" he had heard news of you, and immedi-
" ately recounted what had happened at a
" blackfmith's fhop a few hours before.
" His defcription of Peter was fo
" exad:, that I had not a doubt it was
" you who inhabited the abbey ; and,
" as I knew your necefiity for conceal-
" ment, Peter's denial did not {hake my
" confidence. The next morning, with
" the aflidance of my landlord, I tound
" my way hither, and, having fearched
" every vifible part of the fabric, I
" began to credit P. u r's aflertion : your
Ha " aun^ar-
C '7* ]
w appearance, however, deftroyed this
" fear, by proving that the place wasftill
" inhabited, for you difappeared fo in-
" ftahtaneoufly, that I was not certain it
" was you whom I had feen. I continued
" feeking you till near the clofe of day,
" and till then fcarcely quitted the cham-
" bers whence you had difappeared. I
'" called on you repeatedly, believing that
" my voice might convince you of your
" miftake. At length, I retired to pafs
" the night at a cottage near the border
' of theforeft.
" I came early this morning to renew
" my inquiries, and hoped that, believ-
" ing yonrfelf fafe, you would emerge
" from concealment. But how was I
ts difappointcd to find the abbey as filent
4( and iblitary as 1 had left it the pre-
" ceding evening ! I was returning once
" more from the great hall, when the
'* voice of this young lady caught my ear,
" and effected the difcovery I had foan-
" xioufly fought."
This
[ '73 }
This little narrative entirely clUfipated
the late apprehenfions of La Motte ; but
he now dreaded that the inquiries of his
fon, and his own obvious defire of con-
cealment,might excite a curiofity amongft
the people of Auboine, and lead to a dif-
covery of his true circumftances. How-
ever, for the prefent he determined to dif
mifs all painful thoughts, and endeavour
to enjoy the comfort which the prefence
of his fon had brought him. The furni-
ture was removed to a more habitable
part of the abbey, and the cells were again
abandoned to their own glooms.
The arrival of her fon feemed to have
animated Madame La Motte with new
life, and all her afflictions were, for the
prefent, abforbed in joy. She often
gazed filently on him with a mother's
fondnefs, and her partiality heightened
every improvement which time had
wrought in his perfon and manner. He
was now in his twenty-third year; his
perfon was manly and his air military ;
H 3 hit
C '74 3
his manners were unaffected and graceful,
rarher than dignified j and though his fea-
tures were irregular, they compofed a
countenance, which, having feen it once,
you would feck again.
She made eager inquiries after the
friends ftie had left at Paris, and
learned, that within the few months of
her ablence, fome had died and others
quitted the place. La Motte alfo learn-
ed, that a very ftrenuous fearch for him
had been profecuted at Paris; and,
though this intelligence was only what he
had before expected, it fhocked him fo
much, that he now declared it would be
expedient to remove to a diftant country.
Louis did not fcrnple to fay, that he
thought he would be as fafe at the abbey
as at any other place ; and repeated what
Nemours had faid, that the King's of-
ficers had been unable to trace any part of
his route from Paris.
" Befidcs,"refumed Louis, "this abbey
" is protected by a fupernatural power,
and
[ '75 ]
" and none of the country people dare
" approach it."
" Pleafe you, my young matter," faid
Peter, who was waiting in the room, " we
*' were frightened enough the firft night
" we came here, and I, rriyfelf, God for-
*< give me I thought the place was inha-
" bitedby devils, butthey wereonly owls,
" and fuch like, after all."
" Your opinion was not aiked," faid L/a
Motte, " learn to be filent."
Peter was abafhed. When he had
quitted the room, La Motte afked his
fon with feeming careleflhefs, what were
the reports circulated by the country
people ? " O ! Sir," replied Louis, " I
" cannot recoiled: half of them. Iremem-
" ber, however, they faid, tfrat, many
" years ago, a per fon (but nobody had
" ever feen him, -fo we may judge how
" far the report ought to be credited)
" was privately brought to this abbey,
ft and confined in fome part of it, and
H 4 " that
C J 7^ 3
" that there were ftrongreafons to believe
" he came unfairly to his end."
La Motte fighed. " They farther
" faid," continued Louis, " that the
" fpectre of the deceafed had everfincc
" watched nightly among the ruins :
** and to make the (lory more wonderful,
* ' for the marvellous is the delight of the
" vulgar, they added, that there was a
f f certain part of the ruin, from whence no
" perfon that had dared to explore it, had
" ever returned. Thus people, who have
" few objects of real interefl to engage
" their thoughts, conjure up for them-
" felves imaginary ones."
La Motte fat mufing. " And what
" were the reafons," laid he, at length
awaking from his reverie, " they pre-
" tended to affign, for believing the per-
" fon confined here was murdered ?"
" They did not ufe a term fo pofitive
(< as that," replied Louis.
'* True," faid La Matte, recollecting
C '77 ]
himfelf, " they only faid he came un--
" fairly to his, end."
" That is a nice diftinction," faid
Adeline.
" Why I could not well compre-
" hend what thefe reafons were," re-
fumed Louis ; " the people, indeed,
" fay, that the perfon, who was broughj
" here, was never known to depart, but
" 1 do not find it certain that he ever ar-
* * rived ; that there was ftrange privacy
" and myftery obferved, while he was
" here, and thattheabbey has never fince
'" been inhabited by its owner. There
'* feems, however, tobe nothing in all this
" that deferves to be remembered." La
Motte raifed his head, as if to reply, when
the entrance of Madime turned the dif-
courfe upon a new fubjecT:, and it was not
te fumed that day.
Peter was now difpatched for provi-
fions, while La Motte and Louis retired
to confider how far it was fafe for them to
continue at the abbey. La Motte,
H 5
not>
rini-
[ -78 ]
withftanding the affurances lately given
him, could not but think that Peter's
blunders and his fon's inquiries, might
lead to a difcovery of his refidence
He revolved this in his mind for fome
time, but at length a thought ftruck him,
that the latter of thefc circumftances
might confiderably contribute to his fecu-
rity. " If you," faid he to Louis, " return
" to the inn at Aubotne, from whence
" you were directed here, and with-
" out feeming to intend giving intelli-
" gence, do give the landlord an account
'* of your having found the abbey un-
" inhabited, and then add,, that you had
" difcovered the refidence of the perfon
" you faught in fome diftant town, it
'* would fupprefs any reports tliat may
'? at prefent cxifl, and prevent the belief
" of any in future. And if, after all
" this, you can truft yourfelf for pre-
<c fence of mind and command of counte-
" nance, fofarastodefcribefomedrcad-
** ful apparition, I think thefe circum-
" fiances,
[ '79 D
* ftances, together with the diftance of
" the abbey, and the intricacies of the
" foreft, could entitle me to confider this
" place as my caftle."
Louis agreed to all that his father had
pro poled, and, on the following day ex-
ecuted his commiffion with luch fuccefs,
that the tranquillity of the abbey may
be then faid to have been entirely re-
ftored.
Thus ended this adventure, the only-
one that had occurred to difturb the fa-
mily, during their refidence in the foreft.
Adeline, removed from the apprehen-
fion of thole evils, with which the late
fituation of La Motte had threatened her,
and from the deprefllon which her intereft
in his occafioned her, now experienced a
more than ufual complacency of mind.
She thought too, that me obferved in
Madame La Motte a renewal of her for-
mer kindnefs, and this circumftance awa-
kened all her gratitude, and imparted to
her a pleafure as lively as it was innocent.
H 6 Th e
C * 5
The fatisfa&ion with which the prefence
of her fon infpired Madame La Motte,
Adeline rniftook for kindnefs to herfelf,
and fhe exerted her whole attention in an
endeavour to become worthy of it.
But the joy which his unexpected ar-
rival hadgiven toLaMottequicklybegan
to evaporate, and the gloom of defpon-
dency again fettled on his countenance.
He returned frequently to his haunt in the
foreft the fame myfterious fadnefs tinc-
tured his manner and revived the anxiety
of Madame La Motte, whowasrefolved
to acquaint her fon with this fubject of
diftrefs, and folicit his affiflance to dif-
cover its fource.
Her jealoufy of Adeline, however,
fhe could not communicate, though it
again tormented her, and taught her to
mifconflrue with wonderful ingenuity
every look and word of La Mjtte, and
often to miftake the artlefs expreffions
of Adeline's gratitude and regard for
thofe of warmer tenderuefs. Adeline
had
had formerly accuftomcd hcrfelf to long
walks in the foreft, and the defign Ma-
dame had formed of watching her fteps,
had been fruftrated by the late circum-
ftances, and was now entirely overcome
by her fenfe of its difficulty and danger.
To employ Peter in the affuir, would be
to acquaint him with her fears, and to
follow her herfelf, would moft probably
^betray her fcheme, by making Adeline
aware of her jealoufy. Being thus re-
ftrained by pride and delicacy, flie was
obliged to endure the pangs of uncer- s
tainty concerning the greateil part of her
fufpicions.
To Louis, however, fhe related the
myfterious change in his father's temper.
He liltened to her account with very
earneft attention, and the furprize and
concern impreffed upon his counte-
nance fpoke how much his heart was
interefled. He was, however, involved
in equal perplexity with herfclf upon
this fubjeft, and readily undertook to
4 obferve
obferve the motions of La Motte, be-
lieving his interference likely to be of
equal fervice both to his father and his
mother. He faw, in fome degree, the
fufpicions of his mother, but as he
thought flie wiftied to difguife her feel-
ings, he fuffered her to believe that fhe
fucceeded.
He now inquired concerning Adeline,
and liftened to her little hiftory, of which
his mother gave a brief relation, with
great apparent intereft. So much pity
did he expiefs for her condition, and fo
much indignation at the unnatural con-
duel; of her father, that the apprehenfions
which Madame L a Motre began to form,
of his having difcovered her jealoufy,
yielded to thofe oi- a different kind.
She perceived that the beauty of Adeline
had alrca 'y raicinattd his imagination,
and me -eared that her amiable manners
would foon imprefs his he -.irr. Had her
firft fondmfs for Adeline continued, me
would full have looked with diipkafure
upon
upon their attachment, as anobftacle to
the promotion and the fortune (he hoped
to fee one day enjoyed by her fon. On
thefe ihe refted all her future hopes of
profperity, and regarded the matrimo-
nial alliance which he might form as the
only means of extricating his family from
their prefent difficulties. She, therefore,
touched lightly upon Adeline's merit,
cooly joined with Louis in compaffiona-
ting her misfortunes, and with her cen-
fure of the father's conduct, mixed an
implied fufpicion of that of Adeline's,
The means fhe employed ta reprefs the
paflions of her fon, had a contrary effect..
The indifference, which (lie exprefled
towards Adeline,increafed his pity for her
deftitute> condition, and the tendernefs,
with which fhe affected to judge the fa-
ther, heightened his honcft indignation
at his character.
As he quitted Madame La Motte, he
faw his father crofe the lawn and enter
the deep fliade of the foreft on the left.
2 He
He judged this to be a good opportunity
of commencing this plan, and, quitting
the abbey, (lowly followed at a diitance.
La Motte continued to walk ftraight
forward, and feemed fo deeply wrapt in
thought, that he looked neither to the
right or kft, and fcarcely lifted his head
from the ground. Louis had followed
him near half a mile, when he faw him
fuddenly ilrike into an avenue of the fo-
rt ft, which took a different direction
from the way he had hitherto gone. He
quickened his fleps that he might not
lofe fight of him, but, having reached
the avenue, found the trees fo thickly in-
terwoven, that La Motte was already
hid from his view.
He continued, however, to purfue
the way before him : it conduced him
through the moft gloomy part of the
foreft he had yet fecn, till at length it
terminated in an obfcure rectfs, over-
arched with high trees, whofe interwo-
ven branches excluded the direct rays
of
C 185 7
of the fun, and admitted only a fort of
folemn twilight. Louis looked around
in fearch of La Motte, but he was no
where to be feen. While he flood fur-
veying the place, and confidering what
farther fhould be done, ^ he obferved,
through the gloom, an object at fome
diftance, but the deep ihadow that fell
around prevented hisdiftinguilhing what
it was.
On advancing, he perceived the ruins
of a frnali building, which, from the
traces that remained, appeared to have
been a tomb. As he gazed upon it,
" Here/' faid he, " are probably depo-
" fited the afhes of fome ancien-t monk,
" once an inhabitant of the abbey; per-
" haps, of the founder, who, after ha-
*' ving fpent a life of abilinence and
" prayer, fought in heaven the reward
" of his forbearance upon earth. Peace
" be to his foul ! But did he think a life
" of mere negative virtue deierved an
*' eternal reward? Miftakenman! reafon,
" had
[ '86 ]
" had you trufted to its dilates, would
" have informed you, that the a<flivc
" virtues, <"he adherence to the golden
" rule, ' Do as yoa would be done untp,'
ft could alone defer ve the favour of a
" Daty, whofe glory is benevolence."
He remained with his eyes fixed upon
the fpot, and prefently favv a figure arife
under the arch of the fepulchre. It
ftarteJ, as if on perceiving him, and im-
mediately difappeared. Louis, though
unufed to fear, felt at that moment an
uneafy fenfation, but it almoft immedi-
ately ftruck him that this was La Morte
himfelf. He advanced to the ruin and.
called him. No anfwer was returned,
and he repeated the call, but all was yet
ftill as the grave. He then went up to
the arch-way and endeavoured to exa-
mine the place where he had difappeared,
but the frndowy obfcurity rendered the
attempt fruitlefs. He obferved, how-
ever, a I'.ttle to the right, an entrance
to the ruin, and advanced fome fteps
down
down a dark kind of paflage, when, recol-
lecting that this place might be the haunt
of banditti, his danger alarmed him, and
he retreated with precipitation.
He walked towards the abbey by the
way he came, and finding no perfon
followed him, and believing himfelf
again in fafety, his former ftirmife re-
turned, and he thought it was La Motte
he had leen. He mufed upon this
flrange poffibility, and endeavoured to
affign a realon for fo myfterious a con-
duct, Hut in vain. Not with {landing this,
his belief of it (Iren^thened, and he en-
tered the abbey under as fu 1 ! a convic-
tion as the circumftances would admit of,
that it was his father who had appeared
in the fepulchrc. On entering what was
now u'ed as a pirlour, he was much fur-
prife to find him quietly feated there
with Madame La Motte and Adeline,
and converting as if he had been return-
ed fome time.
He took the full opportunity of ac-
quaint-
quainting his mother with the late ad-
venture, and of inquiring how long La
Motte had been returned before him,
when learning that it was near half an
hour, his furprife increafed,and he knew
not what to conclude.
Meanwhile, a perception of the grow-
ing partiality of Louis co-operated with
the canker of fufpicion, to dcftroy in
Madame La Motte that affection which
pity and efteem had formerly excited
for Adeline. Her unkindnefs was now
two obvious to efcape the notice of her to
whom it was directed, and, being noti-
ced, it occafioned an anguifh. which Ade-
line found it very difficult to endure.
With the warmth and candour of youth,
fhe fought an explanation of this change
of behaviour, and an opportunity of ex-
culpating herfelf from any intention of
provoking it. But this Madame La Motte
artfully evaded, while at the fame time flic
threw out hints, that involved Adeline in
deeper
C i9 ]
deeper perplexity, and fervcd to make her
prefent affliction more intolerable.
" I have loft that affection," fhe would
fay, " which was my all. It was my
'* only comfort yet I have loft it and
(t this without even knowing my offence.
" But I am thankful I have not merited
et unktndnefs, and, though^* has aban-
" doned me, I fhall always love her"
Thus diftrefled, fhe would frequently
leave the parlour, and, retiring to her
chamber, would yield to a defpondency,
which fhe had never known till now.
One morning, being unable to fleep,
fhe arofe at a very early hour. The faint
light of day now trembled through the
clouds, and, gradually fpreading from
the horizon, announced the rifing fun.
Every feature of the landfcape was ilowly
unveiled, moift with the dews of night,
and brightening with the dawn, till at
length the fun appeared, and fhed the full
flood of day. The beauty of the hour in-
vited her to walk, and (he went forth into
the
C
the foreft to fafte the fweets of morning.
The carols of new- w.ked birds faluted her
as (he pafil'd, and the frefh gale came
fccnted wieh the breath of flowers, whofc
tints glowed more vivid through the dew
drops that hung on their leaves.
She wardered on without noticing the
diftji ce, and, following the windings of
the river, came ro a dewy glade, whofe
woods, tweepmgdown to the very edge of
the water, formed a fcene fo fvveetly ro-
mantic, that me leated herfelf at the foot
of a tree, to contemplate its beauty.
Thefe images infenfibly foothed her for-
row, and infpired her with that foft and
pleaiing melancholy, fod^ar to the feeling
mind. For fome time uV fa 11 loft in a re-
verie, while the flowers tnat grew on the
banks befide her, fe-med to irnile in nevv
li'e,and drew from her a companion with
her own condition. Shemufed and fig.ied,
and then, in a voice wnofe charming me-
lody was modulated by the tendernefs of
her heart, fhe fung the following words :
SON-
SONNET,
To THE LILY.
Soft filkcn flow'r! that in the dewy vale
Unfolds thy modcit beauties to the morn,
And breath'ft thy fragrance on her wand'ring gale,
O'er earth's green hill and fhadowy vallies borne ;
When day has clofed his dazzling eye,
And dying gales fink foft away ;
When eve deals down the weftern flcy,
And mountains, woods, and vales decay ;
Thy tender cups, that graceful fwell,
Droop fad beneath her chilly dew.8 ;
Thy odours feek their filken cell,
And twilight veils thy languid hues.
Butfoon, fair flow 'r! the morn fliali rife,
And rear again thy penfive head ;
Again unveil thy fnowy dyes,
Again thy velvet foilage fpread.
Sweet child of Spring ! like thee in forrow's fliadc,
Full oft I mourn in tears, and droop fork.rn :
And O ! like thine, may light my gloom pervade,
And Sorrow fly before Joy's living morn!
^ *
Adif-
Adiftantecholengthenedouthertones,
and fhe fat liftening to the foft refponfe,
till repeating the laft ftanza of the Sonnet,
Ihe was anfwered by a voice almoft as
tender, and lefs diftant. She looked
round in furprife, and favv a young man
in a hunter's drefs, leaning againft a tree,
and gazing on her with that deep atten-
tion, which marks an enamoured mind.
A thoufand apprehenfions fhot athwart
her bufy thought ; and Ihe now firft re-
membered her diftance from the abbey.
She rofe in hafte to be gone, when the
flranger rcfpe<ftfully advanced ; but ob-
ferving her timid looks and retiring fteps,
he paufcd. She purfued her way towards
the abbey ; and, though many reafons
made her anxious to know whether fhe
was followed, delicacy forbade her to
look back. When (he reached the ab-
bey, finding the family was not yet af-
fembled to breakfaft, Ihe retired to her
chamber, where her whole thoughts were
employed
[ 193 3
employed in conjectures concerning the
ftranger; believing that (he was intereft-
cd on this point, no farther than as it
concerned the fafety of La Motte, fhe
indulged, without fcruple, the remem-
brance of that dignified air and manner
which fo much diftinguiihed the youth
fhe had feen. After revolving the cir-
cumftance more deeply, (he believed it
impoffible that a perfon of his appearance
fhould be engaged in a ftratagcm to be-
tray a fellow cteature ; and though fhe
was deftitute of a (ingle circumftance
that might aflift her furmifes of who he
was, or what was his bufinefs in an un-
frequented foreft, fhe rejected, uncon-
fcioufly, every fufpicion injurious to his
character. Upon farther deliberation
therefore, fhe, refolved not to mention
this little circumftance to La Motte,
well knowing, that though his danger
might be imaginary, his apprehenfions
would be real, and would renew all the
fufferings and perplexity, from which
VOL, I. I he
C X 94 ]
he was but juft releafed. She refolvcd,
however, to refrain, for fome time, walk-
ing in the foreft.
When flie came down to breakfaft
ihe obferved Madame La Motte to be
more than ufually referved. La Motte
entered the room foon after her, and
made fome trifling obfervations on the
weather ; and, having endeavoured to
fupport an effort at cheerfulnefs, funk
into his ufual melancholy. Adeline
watched the countenance of Madame
with anxiety ; and when there appeared
in it a gleam of kindnefs, it was as fun-
fhine to her foul; but fhe very feldom
fuffered Adeline thus to flatter herfelf.
Her converfation was reftrained, and
often pointed at fomething more than
could be underftood. The entrance of
Louis was a very feafonable relief to
Adeline, who almoft feared to truft her
voice with a fentence, left its trembling
accents Ihould betray her uneafinefs.
" This
[ 195 J
" This charming morning drew you
<e early from your chamber," faid Louis,
addrefling Adeline. " You had, no
" doubt, a pleafant companion too," faid
Madame La Motte, " a folitary walk is
" feldom agreeable."
" I was alone, Madam," replied Ade-
line.
" Indeed ! your own thoughts muft be
<c highly pleafing then."
" Alas ! " returned Adeline, a tear,
fpite of her efforts, darting to her eye,
" there are now few fubjec~ls of pleafurc
" left for them."
" That is very furprifing," purfued
Madame La Motte.
" Is it, indeed, furprifing, Madam,
" for thofe who have loll their laft friend
" to be unhappy ? "
Madame La Motte's confcience ac-
knowledged the rebuke, and fhe blulhed.
" Well," refumed fhe, after a Ihort paufe,
" that is not your fituation, Adeline j "
looking earneftly at La Motte. Ade-
I 2 line,?
line, whofe innocence protected her from
fufpicion, did not regard this circum-
ftance ; but, fmiling through her tears,
faid, " She rejoiced to hear her fay fo."
During this converfation, La Motte had
remained abforbed in his own thoughts;
and Louis, unable to guefs at what it
pointed, looked alternately at his mo-
ther and Adeline for an explanation.
The latter he regarded with an expreflion
fo full of tender compaflion, that it re-
vealed at once to Madame La Motte the
fentiments of his foul ; and fhe immedi-
ately replied to the laft words of Ade-
line with a very ferious air : " A friend
" is only eftimable when our conduct
" deferves one ; the friendfhip that fur-
" vives the merit of its object, is a dif-
" grace inflead of an honour, to both
*' parties.
The manner and emphafis with which
flie delivered thefe words, again alarm-
ed Adeline, who mildly faid, " She
" hoped fhe Ihould never deferve fuch
" cenfure."
[ '97 1
" cenfure." Madame was filent ; but
Adeline was fo much fhocked by what
had already pafled, that tears fprung
from her eyes, and fhe hid her face with
her handkerchief.
Louis now rofe with fome emotion ;
and La Motte, roufed from his reverie,
inquired what was the matter ; but, be-
fore he could receive an anfwer, he
feemed to have forgot that he had afked
a queftion. t( Adeline may give you
c< her own account," faid Madame La
Motte. "I have not deferved this,'
faid Adeline, riling, " but fince my pre-
" fence is difpleafing, I will retire."
She moved towards the door, when
Louis, who was pacing the room in ap-
parent agitation, gently took her hand,
faying, " Here is fome unhappy mif-
" take," and would have led her to her
feat ; but her fpirits were too much de-
preffed to endure longer reflraint ; and,
withdrawing her hand, " Suffer me to
" go ; " faid fhe, " if there is any mif-
1-3 " take,,
[ .98 ]
" take, I am unable to explain it."
Saying this, (he quitted the room. Louis
followed her with his eyes to the door ;
when, turn ng to his mother, " Surely,
" Madam," faid he, " you are to blame :
" my life on it, flic deferves your
" warmed tendernefs."
'* You are very eloquent in her caufe,
" Sir," faid Madame, " may I prefume
" to afk what has interested you thus in
" her favour ? "
" Her own amiable manners," rejoin-
ed Louis, " which no one can obferve
" without eflceming them."
" But you may prefume too much on
" your own obfervations ; it is poffible
" thefe amiable manners may deceive
" you."
" Your pardon, Madam ; I may, with-
" out prefumption, affirm they cannot
" deceive me."
" You have, no doubt, good reafons
* for this aflertion ; and I perceive, by
" your admiration of this artlefs innocent ',
"fhe
C 1 99 3
" (he has fucceeded in her defign of cn-
" trapping your heart."
" Without defigning it, ihe has won
" my admiration, which would not have
" been the cafe, had Ihe been capable
<( of the conduct you mention."
Madame La Motte was going to re-
ply, but was prevented by her hufband,
who, again roufed from his reverie, in*
quired into the caufe of difpute; " Away
" with this ridiculous behaviour," faid
he, in a voice of difpleafure. " Ade-
" line has omitted fome houfehold duty
" I fuppofe, and an offence fo heinous
" deferves fevere punimment, no doubt;
" but let me be no more difturbed with
<( your petty quarrels ; if you muft be
** tyrannical, Madam, indulge yourhu-
* c mour in private."
Saying this, he abruptly quitted the
room, and Louis immediately following,
Madame was left to her own unpleafant
reflections. Her ill-humour proceeded
from the ufual caufe. She had heard of
1 4 Adeline's
[ 2OO ]
Adeline's walk ; and La Motte having
gone forth into the foreft at an early hour,
her imagination, heated by the broodings
of jealoufy, fuggefted that they had ap-
pointed a meeting. This was confirmed
to her by the entrance of Adeline, quickly
followed by La Morte ; and her percep-
tions thus jaundiced by paffion, neither
rhc prefence of her fon, or her ufual at-
tention to good manners, had been able
to reftrain her emotions. The behavi-
our of Adeline, in the late fcc-ne, flic
confidered as a rcfinc-d piece of art ; and.
the indifference of JLa Motte as aifedted.
So true it is, that
*' Trifles, light as air,
Are to the jealous confirmation flrong,
As proof of Holy Writ."
And fo ingenious was fhe " to twift the
" true caufc the wrong way."
Adeline had retired to-her chamber to
weep. When her firil agitation was
fubfided, flie took an ample review of her
conduct ; and perceiving nothing of
which ihe could accufe herfelf, fhe be-
came
come more fatisfied, deriving her beft
comfort from the integrity of her inten-
tions. In the moment of accufation,
innocence may fomet'mes be opprefled
with the punilhment due only to guilt ;
but reflection difolves the illufions of
terror, and brings to the aching bofom
theconfoiations of virtue.
When La Motte quitted the room, he
had gone into the toreft, which LoXiis
obferving, he followed and joined him,
with an intention of touching upon the
fubjed: cf his melancholy. " It is a fine
" morning, Sir," faid Louis, " if you
" will give me leave, I will walk with
" you." La Motte, though diflatisfied,
did not object; and after they had pro-
cecdM ibme way, he changed the courfe
of his walk, finking into a path, con-
trary to that which Louis had obferved
him take on the foregoing clay.
Louis remarked, that the avenue they
had quitted was " more fhady, and, therc-
" fore, more plealant." La Motte not
I 5 fceming
[ 202 ]
feeming to notice this remark, "It leads
" to a fingular fpot," continued he,
" which I difcovered yefterday." La
Motte raifed his head ; Louis proceeded
to defcribe the tomb, and the adventure
he had met with; during. his relation,
La Motte regarded him with earneft at-
tention, while his own countenance fuf-
fered various changes. When he had
concluded, " You were very daring,"
faid La Motte, " to examine that place,
" particularly when you ventured down
" the paffage ; I would advife you to be
" more cautious how you penetrate the
" depths of thisforeft. I, myfelf, have
" not ventured beyond a certain boun-
" dary ; and am, therefore, uninformed
f< what inhabitants it may harbour. Your
" account has alarmed me," continued
he, " for if banditti are in the neigh-
" bourhood, I am not fafe from their
" depredations : 'tis true, I have but lit-
" tie to lofe, except my life."
" And the lives of your family,"
rejoined
[ 203 3
rejoined Louis. " Of courfe," faid La
Motte.
" It would be well to have more cer-
<( tainty upon that head," rejoined Louis,
" I am confidering how we may obtain
" it."
" 'Tis ufelefs to confider that," faid
La Motte, "the inquiry itfelf brings
" danger with it ; your life would, per-
" haps, be paid for the indulgence of
" your curioiity ; our only chance of
*' fafety is by endeavouring to remain
" undifcovered. Let us move towards
" the abbey."
Louis knew not what to think, but
faid no more upon the fubject. La
Motte foon after relapfed into a fit of
muling ; and his fon now took occafion
to lament that depreffion of fpirits, which
he had lately obferved in him. " Rather
" lament the canfe of it," faid La Motte
with a figh ; " That I do mod (incerely
" whatever it may be. May I venture
" to inquire, Sir, what is the caufe ?"
16 Arc,
C 2 4 3
C Are, then, my misfortunes fo little
l< known to you," rejoined La Motte,
" as to make that queftion neceflary ?
" Am I not driven from my home, from
< my friends, and almolt from my coun-
" try, and fhall it be afked why I am
" afflifted?" Louis felt the juftice of
this reproof, and was a moment filent :
*' That you are afflicted, Sir, does not
" excite my furprife;" refumed he, "it
" would, indeed, be flrange, were you
" not."
" What then does excite your fur-
prife?"
" The air of cheerfulnefs you wore
" when I firfl came hither."
" You lately lamented that I was
' afflicted," faid La Motte, " and now
*' feem not very well pleafed that I once
" was cheerful. What is the meaning
of this?"
" You much miftake me," faid his fon,
" nothing could give me fo much fatif-
" faction as to fee that cheerfulnefs re-
** newed ;
" newed ; the fame caufe of forrow
" exifted at that time, yet you was then
" cheerful."
" That I was then cheerful," faid La
Motte* " you might, without flattery,
" have attributed to yourfelf; your pie-
" fence revived me, and I was relieved
" at the fame time from a load of ap-
" prehenfions."
" Why, then, as the fame caufe exifts,
*' are you not ftill cheerful ?"
" And why do you not recollect that
" it is your father you thus fpeak to ?"
*' I do, Sir, and nothing but anxiety
" for my father could have urged me
(C thus far : it is with inexp r effible con-
** cern I perceive you have fome fecret
** caufe of uneafinefs; reveal it, Sir, to
" thofe who cl.p.m a fhare in all your
" affliction, and fjffer them, by partici-
" pation, to foften its fevericy." Louis
looked up, and obferved the countenance
of his father, pale as death : his lips
liembled while he fpoke. " Your pe-
" netration^
[ 206 ]
" netration, however, you may rely upon
" it, has, in the prefent indance, deceived
" you. I have no fubject of diftrefs, but
c< what you are already acquainted with,
" and I defire this converfation may ne-
" ver be renewed."
" If it is your defire, of courfe, I
" obey," faid Louis ; " but, pardon
" me, Sir, if"
" I will not pardon you, Sir," inter-
rupted La Motte, " let the difcourfe end
" here." Saying this, he quickened his
Jfteps, and Louis, not daring to purfue,
walked quietly on till he reached the
abbey.
Adeline pafied the greatefl part of the
day alone in her chamber, where, having
examined her conduct, fhe endeavoured
to fortify her heart againft the unmerited
difpleafurc of Madame La Motte. This
was a tafk more difficult than that of
felf acquittance. She loved her, and had
relied on her friendfhip, which, notwith-
flanding the conduct of Madame, Rill ap-
4 pearcd
[ 20 7 3
peared valuable. It was true, flic had
not deferved to lofe it, but Madame
was fo averfe to explanation, that there
was little probability of recovering it,
however ill-founded might be the caufe
of her diflike. At length, fhe reafoned,
or rather, perhaps, perfuaded herfelf into
tolerable compofure ; for to refign a real
good with contentment, is lefs an effort
of reafon than of temper.
For many hours fhe bufied herfelf
upon a piece of work, which (he had
undertaken for Madame La Motte ; and
this Ihe did, without the leaft intention
of conciliating her favour, but becaufe
fhe felt there was fomething in thus re-
paying unkindnefs, which was fuitableto
her own temper, her fentiments, and her
pride. Self-love may 'be the center, round
which the human affections move, for
whatever motive conduces to felf-gratifi-
cation may be refolved into felf-love; yet
fome of thefe affections are in their nature
fo refined that though we cannot deny
their
C
their origin, they almoft deferve the
name of virtue. Of this fpecies was that
of Adeline.
In this employment, and in reading,
Adeline patted as much of the day as
poffible. From book c , indeed, fhe had
conftan'Jy derived her chief informa-
tion rnd amufement: thofe belonging to
La Motte were few, bur well chofen ;
and Adeline could find pleaiure in read-
ing them more than or.ce. When her
mind wasdifcompofed by the behaviour
of Madame La Motte, or by a retro-
fpedtionof her earlv misfortunes, a book
was the opiate that lulled it to repofe.
La Moite had feveral of the befl Englifh
poets, a language which Adeline had
learned in the convent ; their beauries,
therefore, (he was capable of tafting, and
they often infpired her with enthufiaftic
delight.
At the decline of day, me quitted her
chamber to enjoy the fweet evening hour,
but ftrayed no farther than an avenue
near
3
near the abbey, which fronted the wed.
She read a little, but, finding it impof-
fible any longer to abftract her attention
from the fcene around, fhe clofed the
book, and yielded to the fweet compla-
cent melancholy which the hour in-
fpired. The air was (till, the fun, fink-
ing below the diftant hills, fpread a pur-
ple glow over the landfcape, and touched
the foreft glades with fofter light. A
dewy frefhnefs was diffufed upon the
air. As the fun dcfcended, the dufk
came filently on, and the fcene aflumed
a folemn grandeur, As fhe mufed, fhe
recollected and repeated the following
ftanzas :
NIGHT.
Now Ev'ning fades! her penfive flep retires,
And Night leads on the dews, and fhadowy hours ;
Her awful pomp of planetary fires,
And all her train of vitionary powers.
Tbefc paint with fleetkig fliapes the dream of flecp,
Tbije fwell the waking foul with pleafing dread;
Thefe through the glooms in forma terrific fweep,
And roufc the thrilling horrors of the dead !
Queen
Queen of the folcmn thought myfterious Nijjht!
Whofe ftcp is darknefs, and whofe voice is fear T
Thy fliades I welcome with fevcre delight,
And hail thy hollow gales, that figh fo drear !
When, wrapt in clouds, and riding in the blaft,
Thou roll'ft the florin alone: the founding fhore,
I love to watch the whelming billows caft
On rocks below, and liften to the roar.
Thy milder terrors, Night, I frequent woo,
Thy filent lightnings, and thy meteor's glare,
Thy northern fires, bright with enfanguine hue,
That light in heaven's high vault the fervid air.
But chief I love thee, when thy lucid car
Sheds through the fleccyclouds a trembling gleam,
And (hews the milty mountain from afar,
The nearer foreft, and the valley's flream :
And namelefs objcfts in the vale below,
That floating dimly to the mufing eye,
Aflume, at Fancy's touch, fantaftic fhcw,
And raife her fweet romantic viiions high.
Then lot me {land amidft thy glooms profound
On fome wild woody fteep, and hear the breeze
That fwells in mouinful melody around,
And faintly dies upon the diftant trees.
What melancholy charm fleals o'er the mind !
What hallow'd tears the rifing rapture greet!
While many a viewlefs fpirit in the wind
Sighs to the lonely hour in accents fweet!
Ah!
[ * 3
Ah f who the dear illations pleas'd would yield,
Which Fancy wakes from filence and fromftiades,
For all the fober forms of Truth rcveat'd,
For all the fcenes that Day's bright eye pervades !
On her return to the abbey flie was
joined by Louis, who, after fome con-
verfation, faid, " I am much grieved
" by the fcene to which I was vvitnefs
" this morning, and have longed for an
" opportunity of telling you fo. My
" mother's behaviour is too myfterious
" for me to account for, but it is not
" difficult to perceive fhe labours under
" fome miftake. What I have torequeft
" is, that whenever I can be of fervice
" to you, you will command me.'*
Adeline thanked him for his friendly
offer, which fhe felt more fcnfibly than
Ihe chofe to exprefs. " I am uncon-
" fcious," faid Ihe, " of any offence
" that may have deferved Madame La
" Motte's difpleafure, and am, there-
" fore, totally unable to account for it.
" I have repeatedly fought an explana-
" tion.
V tion, which Ihe has as anxioufiy
" avoided j it is better, therefore, to
" prefs the fubje<ft no farther. Ac rhe
" fame time, Sir, fuffer me to affure
" you, I have a juft fenfeof your goi d-
" nefs." Louis fighed, and was filent.
At length, " I vvilh you would permit
" me," refumed he, " to fpeak with
" my mother upon this fubjedt. I am
" fure I could convince her of her
" error."
" By no means/' replied Adeline ;
" Madame La Motre's difpleafure has
" give me inexprcflible concern ; but
t( tocompel her to an explanation, would
" only increafe this difpleafure, inftead
" of removing it. Let me beg of you
" not to attempt it."
" I fubmit to ) our judgement," fald
Louis; " bur, fo-r once, it is with re-
" luclance; I fhou'd cftirem myfelf moft
" happy, if I could be of fervice to you."
He fpoke this with an accent fo tender
that Adeline, for the firft time, per-
ceived
C
ceived the fentiments of his heart. A
mind more fraught with vanity than
her's, would have taught her long ago to
regard the attentions of Louis, as the
refult of fomething more than well-bred
gallantry. She did not appear to no-
tice his laft words, but remained filent,
and involuntarily quickened her pace,
*Louis laid no more, but feemed funk in
thought ; and this filence remained un-
interrupted, till they entered the abbey.
CHAP.
I "4 1
CHAP.
*' Hence, horrible fludow !
'* Unreal mockery, hence ! "
MACBETH.
EAR a month elapfed without any
remarkable occurrence : the melancholy
of La Motte differed little abatement ;
and the behaviour of Madame to Ade-
line, though fomewhat foftened, was
dill far from kind. Louis, by number-
lefs little attentions, teftified his growing
affection for Adeline, who continued to
treat them as pafling civilities.
It happened, one ftormy night, as
they were preparing for reft, that they
were alarmed by the trampling of horfes
near the abbey. The found of feveral
voices fucceeded, and a loud knocking
at the great gate of the h.all foon after
con-
confirmed the alarm. La Motte had lit-
tle doubt that the officers of juftice had
at length difcovered his retreat, and the
perturbation of fear almoft confounded
his fenfes ; he, however, ordered the
lights to be extinguifhed, and a profound
filence to be obferved, unwilling to ne-
gledt even the flighted poflibility of fecu-
rity. There was a chance he thought,
that the perfons might fuppofe the place
uninhabited and believe they had mif-
taken the object of their fearch. His
orders were fcarcely obeyed, when the
knocking was renewed, and with in-
creafed violence. La Motte now re-
paired to a fmall grated window in the
portal of the gate, that he might ob-
ferve the number and appearance of the
flrangers.
The darknefs of the night baffled his
purpofe; he could only perceive a
group of men on horfeback ; but lif-
tening attentively, he diftinguiflied a
part of their difcourfe. Several of the
men
men contended, that they had miftaken
the place ; till a perfon, who, from his
authoritative voice, appeared to be their
leader, affirmed, that the lights had itlued
from this fpot, and he was pofitive there
were perfons within. Having faid this,
he again knocked loudly at the gate, and
was anfwered only by hollow echoes. La
Motte's heart trembled at the found, and
he was unable to move.
After waiting fome time, the ftrangers
feemed as if in confutation, but their
difcourfc was conducted in fuch a low
tone of voice, that La Motte was unable
to diftinguifh its purport. They with-
drew from the gate, as if to depart, but
he prefently thought he heard them
amongft the trees on the other fide of the
o
fabric, and foon became convinced they
had not left the abbey. A few minutes
held La Motte in a ftate of torturing
fufpence ; he quitted the grate, where
Louis now ftationed himfelf, for that part
of
of the edifice which overlooked the fpot
where he fuppofed them to be waiting.
The ftorm was now loud, and the hol-
low blafts, which ruthed among the
trees, prevented his diftinguifhing any
other found. Once, in the paufes of the
wind, he thought he heard voices ;
but he was not long left to conjecture,
for the renewed knocking at the gate
again appalled him; and regardlefs of
the terrors of Madame La Motte and Ade-
line, he ran to try his lafl chance of con-
cealment, by means of the trap-door.
Soon after, the violence of the afTai-
lants feeming to increafe with every guft
of the tempeft, the gate, which was old
and decayed, burft from its hings, and
admitted them to the hall. At the mo-
ment of their entrance, a fcream from
Madame La Motte, who flood at the
door of an adjoining apartment, con-
firmed the fufpicion of the principal
ftranger, who continued to advance, as
fafl as the darknefs would permit him.
VOL. I. K Adeline
[ 2,8 ]
Adeline had fainted, and Madame La
Motte was calling loudly for afliftance,
when Peter entered with lights, and dif-
covered the hall filled with men, and his
young miftrefs fenfelefs upon the floor.
A, Chevalier now advanced, and folicit-
ing pardon of Madame for the rudenefs
of his conduct, was attempting an apo-
logy, when perceiving Adeline, he haf-
tened to raife her from the ground, but
Louis, who now returned, caught her in
his arms, and defired the flranger not to
interfere.
The pcrfon to whom he fpoke this,
wore the flar of one of the firft orders in
France, and had an air of dignity, which
declared him to be of fuperior rank. He
appeared to be about forty, but, per-
haps, the fpirit and fire of his counte-
nance made the impreffion of time upon
his features lefs perceptible. Hisfoftened
afpect and insinuating manners, while,
regardlefs of himfelf, he feemed atten-
tive only to the condition of Adeline,
gradually
L 2I 9 ]
gradually difllpated the apprehenfions of
Madame Li Motte, and fubdued the
fudden refentment of Louis. Upon Ade-
line, who was yet infenfible, he gazed
with an eager admiration, which feemed
to obforb all the faculties of his mind.
She was, indeed, an object not to be
contemplated with indifference.
Her beauty, touched with the languid
delicacy of illnefs, gained from fentimenc
what it loft in bloom. The negligence
of her drefs, loofened for the purpofe of
freer refpiration, difcovered thofe glow-
ing charms, which her auburn treffes,
that fell in profuiion over her bofom,
lhaded, but could not conceal.
There now entered another ftranger, a
young Chevalier, who, having fpoken
haftily to the elder, joined the general
group that furrounded Adeline. He
was of a perfon, in which elegance was
happily blended with ftrcngth, and had
a countenance animated, but not hauch-
' O
ty i noble, yet expreflive of peculiar
K i fweet-
[ 210 ]
fweetnefs. What rendered it at prefent
moft interefting, was the compaffion he
feemed to feel for Adeline, who now
revived and faw him, the firft object that
met her eyes, bending over her in filent
anxiety.
On perceiving him, a blulh of quick
furprize paflfed over her cheek, for Ihe
knew him to be the ftranger Ihe had feen
in the foreft. Her countenance inftantly
changed to the palenefs of terror, when
fhe obferved the room crowded with
people. Louis now fupported her into,
another apartment, where the two Che-
valiers, who followed her, again apolo-
gized for the alarm they had occafioned.
The elder, turning to Madam LaMotte,
faid, " You are, no doubt, Madam,
" ignorant that I am the proprietor
" of this abbey." She ftarted : " Be
" not alarmed, Madam, you are fafc
" and welcome. This ruinous fpot has
" been long abandoned by me, and if it
" has afforded you a (belter, I am happy/'
Madame
Madame La Motre <*xprefled her grati-
tude for this condefcenfion, ancj. Louis
declared his fenfeof the politenefs of the
Marquis -de Montalt, for that was the
title of the noble ftranger.
" My chief refidence," faid the Mar-
" quis, " is in a diftant province, but I
" have a chateau near the borders of the
" foreft, and in returning from an ex-
" curfion, I have been benighted and
** loft my way. A light, which gleamed
" through the trees, attracted me hither,
" and fuch was the darknefs without,
" that I did not knew :: proceeded from
** the abbey till I came to the door."
The noble deportment of the flrangers,
the fplendour of their apparel, and, above
all, this fpeech, diffipated every remain-
ing doubt of Madame's, and (he was
giving orders for rcfrefhments to be fet
before them, when La Motte, who had
liftened, and was now convinced he had
nothing to fear, entered the apartment.
K 3 He
22t
He advanced towards the Marquis
xvith a complacent air, but, as he would
have fpoke, the \vord,s of welcome faul-
tered on his lips, his limbs trembled, and
a ghaftly palenefs overfpread his counte-
nance. The Marquis was little lefs agi-
tated, and in the firft moment of iur-
prize, pu^t his hand npca his fword,
bur, rccoflccting himfelf, he withdrew
it, and endeavoured to obtain a com-
mand of features, A paufe of agonizing
fiience enfued. La Motte made fome
motion towards the door, but his agi-
tated frame refufed to fuppoft him, and
he funk into a chair, filent and ex-
haufted. The horror of his countenance,
together with his whole behaviour, ex-
cited the utmoft furprize in Madame,
whofe eyes inquired of the Marquis more
than he thought proper to anfwcr : his
looks increafed, inftead of explaining the
myftery, and exprefled a mixture of
emotions, which fhe could not analyfe.
Meanwhile, Ihe endeavoured to foothe
and
and revive her hufband, but he reprefled
her efforts, and, averting his face, cover-
ed it with his hands.
The Marquis, feeming to recover his
prefence of mind, ftepped to the door
of the hall where his people were aft em -
bled, when La Motte, darting from his
fear, with a frantic air, called on him to
return. The Marquis looked back and
Hopped, but (lill hefkated whether to
proceed ; the fupplications of Adeline,
who was now returned, added to thofe of
La Motte, determined him, and he fac
down. <l I requeft of you, my Lord/*
faid La Motte, u that we may converfe
" for a few moments by ourfelves."
" The requefl is bold, and the indul-
" gence, perhaps, dangerous," faid the
Marquis : " it is more alfo than I will
" grant. You can have nothing to fay,
" with which your family are not ac-
* quainted fpeak your purpofe and be
" brief." Li Motte's complexion va-
ried to every fentence of his fpeech.
K 4 1m.
" Impoffible! my Lord,"faid he; " my
" lips (hall clofe for ever, ere they pro-
" nounce before another human being
" the words referved for you alone. I
" entreat I fupplicate of you a few mo-
" ments private difcourfe." As he pro-
nounced thefe words, tears fwelled into
his eyes, and the Marquis, foftened by
his diftrefs, confented, though with evi-
dent emotion and reluctance, to his re-
queft.
La Motte took a light and led the
Marquis to a fma!l room in a remote part
of the edifice, \vhere they remained near
an hour. Madame, alarmed by the
length of their nbfence, went in queft of
them : as me drew near, a curiofity, in
fuch circumlbnccs, perhaps, not unjufti-
fiible, prompted her to liilen. La Motto
juft then cxrlnimcd "The phrenzv of
" defpair !" Some words followed, de-
livered in a low rone, which nV coukl
not underhand. " I have fufferid more
than 1 can exprefs," continued he ; the
" fame
C "5 ]
" fame image has purfued me in my
" midnight dream, and in my daily wan-
" derings. There is no punimment,
" (hort of death, which I would not have
" endured, to regain the ftafe of mind
" with which I entered this forefl. I
" again addrefs myfelf to your com-
" paffion."
A loud guft of wind, that buft along
the paflage where Madame La Motte
ftood, overpowered his voice and that of
the Marquis, who fpoke in reply : but me
foon after diftinguifhed thefe words,
** To-morrow, my Lord, if you return
" to thefe ruins, I will lead you to the
" fpot."
" Thatisfcarcely neceflarVjandmaybe
(t <- dangerous," laid th^ Marquis. {1> From
" you, my Lord, T can excufe thefe
" doubts," refurned La Motte; "bud:
" will f \vear whatever you fliall propofe*
'* Yts," continued he, " whatever- may
(t be the confequence, I will fvvear to >
J' fubmit to your decree ! " The riving v
K5 temptftc
C
tempeft again drowned the found of
their voices, and Madame La Motte vain-
ly endeavoured to hear thofe words, upon
which, probably, hung the explanation of
this myfterious conduct. They now mov-
ed towards the door, and (he retreated
with precipitation to the apartment where
Ihe had left Adeline, with Louis and the
young Chevalier.
Hither the Marquis and La Motte
foon followed; the firft haughty and cool,
the latter fomewhat morecompofed than
before, though the impreflion of horror
was not yet faded from his countenance.
The Marquis paffed on to the hall where ,
his retinue awaited : the ftorm was not
yet fubiided, but he feemed impatient
to be gone, and ordered his people ta
be in readinefs. La Motte obferved
a fullen filence, frequently pacing the
room with hafty fteps, and fometimes
loft in reverie. Meanwhile, the Mar-
quis, feating himfelf by Adeline, di-
refted to her his whole attention, except
when
3
when fudden fits of abfence came over
his mind and fufpended him in filence :
at thefe tirrus the young Chevalier ad-
drefied Adeline, who, with diffidence
and ibme agitation, fhrunk from the ob-
fervance of both.
The Marquis had been near two hours
at the abbey, and the tempeft flill con-
tinuing, Madame La Motte offered him
a bed. A look from her hufband made
her tremble for the confequence. Her
offer was, however, politely declined,
the Marquis being evidently as impa-
tient to be gone, as his tenant appeared
diftrefled by his prefence. He often re-
turned to the hall, and from the gates
raifed a look of impatience to the clouds.
Nothing was to be feen through the
darknds of night nothing heard but the
howling of the florm.
The morning dawned before he de-
parted. As he was preparing to leave
the abbey, La Motte again drew him
afide, and held him for a few moments
K6 to
[ "8 J
in clofe converfation. His impaffioned
gcftures, which Madame La Motte ob-
ferved from a remote part of the room,
added to her curiofity a degree of wild
apprehenfion, derived from the obfcu-
rity of the fubjedt. Her endeavour to
diftinguifh the correfponding words was
baffled by the low voice in which they
were uttered.
The Marquis and his retinue at length
departed, and La Motte, having himfelf
fattened the broken gates, filently and de-
jectedly withdrew to his chamber. The
moment they were alone, Madame feized
theopportunity of entreating her hufband
to explain the fcene me had witnefled.
" Alk me no queftions," faid La Motte,
fternly, " for I will anfwer none. I have
u already forbade your fpeaking to me
" on this fubjea."
" What fubjed ? " faid his wife. La
Mott feemed to recollect himfelf. "No-
" matter I was miltaken I thought
" you
'* you had repeated thefe queftions bc-
" fore."
" Ah !" faid Madame La Morte, " it
" is then as I fufpe&ed : your former
" melancholy, and the diftrefs of this
" night, have the fame caufe."
" And why fhould you either fufpedt
" or inquire ? Am I always to be perfe-
" cuted with conjectures ?"
" Pardon me, I meant not to perfecute
** you ; but my anxiety for your welfare
" will not fuffer me to reft under this
ff dreadful uncertainty. Let me claim
" the privilege of a wife, and fhare the
" affliction which opprefles you. Deny
" me not." La Motte interrupted her,
" Whatever may be the caufe of the
" emotions which you have witnefTed, I
" fwear that I will not now reveal it. A
" time may come, when I (hall no lon-
<f ger judge concealment neceflary; till
c then be filent, and defift from impor-
" tunity ; above all, forbear to remark
" to any one what you may have feen
" uncom-
L
" uncommon in me. Bury your furmife
" in your own bofom, as you would
" avoid my curfe and my deftruction."
The determined air with which he fpoke
this, while his countenance was over-
fpread with a livid hue, made his wife
fhudder ; and fhe forbore all reply.
Madame la Motte retired to bed, but
not to reft. She ruminated on the pad
occurrence ; and her furprize and curi-
ofiry, concerning the words and beha-
viour of her hufband, were but more
ilrongly ftimulated by reflection. One
truth, however, appeared ; flie could not
doubt, but the myfterious conduct of La
Motte, which had for fo many months
opprefTed her with anxiety, and the
late fcene with the Marquis, originated
from the famecaufe. This belief, which
fecmed to prove how unjuftly Hie had
fufpeftt-d Adeline, brought with it a
pang of felf-accufation. She looked for-
ward to rhe morrow, which would lead
the Marquis again to the abbey, with
im-
C 3' ]
impatience. Weaned nature at length
refumcd her rights, and yielded a fhort
oblivion of care.
At a late hour, the next day, the fa-
mily aflembled to breakfaft. Each in-
dividual of the party appeared filent and
abftracted, but very different was the af-
pect of their features, and ftill more the
complexion of their thoughts. La Motte
feemed agitated by impatient fear, yet
the fullennefs of defpair overfpread his
countenance. A certain wildnefs in his
eye at times exprefled the fudden ftart of
horror, and again his features would fink
into the gloom of defpondence.
Madame La Motte feemed harrafled
with anxiety ; Ihe watched every turn of
her hufband's countenance, and impa-
tiently waited the arrival of the Mar-
quis. Louis was compofed and thought-
ful Adeline feemed to feel her full
ihare of uneafinefs. She had obferved
the behaviour of La Motte the pre-
ceding night with much furprize, and the
happy
C
happy confidence fhe had hitherto rc-
pofed in him, was fhaken She feared
alfo, left the exigency of his circumftan-
ces Ihould precipitate him agiin into the
world, and that he would be either una-
ble or unwilling to afford her a Ihelter
beneath his roof.
During breakfaft, La Motte frequently
rofe to the window, from whence he caft
many an anxious look. His wife under-
ftood too well the caufe of his impa-
tience, and endeavoured to reprefs her
own. In thefe intervals, Louis attemp-
ted by whifpers to obtain fome informa-
tion from his father, but La Motte al-
ways returned to the table, where the
prefence of Adeline prevented farther
difcourfe.
After breakfaft, as he walked upon the
lawn, Louis would have joined him, but
La Morte peremptorily declared he in-
tended to be alone, and foon afrer, the
Marquis beirg not yet arrived, proceed-
ed to a greater diftancc from the abbey.
AUcline
[ 2 33 ]
Adeline retired into their ufual work-
ing: room with Madame La Motte, who
O , '
affected an air of cheerfulnefs, and even
of kindnefs. Feeling the neceflity of
offering fome reafon for the finking agi-
tation of La Motre, and of preventing the
furprize, which the unexpected appear-
ance of the Marquis would occafion Ade-
line, if fhe was left to connect it with his
behaviour of the preceding nighr, fhe
mentioned that the Marquis and La Motte
had long been known to each other, and
that this unexpected meeting, after an
abfence of many years, and under cir-
cumftances to altered and humiliating,
on the part of the latter, had occafioncd
him much painful emotion. This had
been heightened by a confcioulnefs that
the Marquis had formerly mifinterpreted
fome circumflances in his conduit to-
wards him, which had caufed a fufpen-
(ion of their intimacy.
This account did not bring convic-
tion to the mind of Adeline, for it feemed
inadequate
inadequate to the degree of emotion,
the Marquis and La Motte had mutually
betrayed. Her furprize was excited, and
her curiofity awakened by the words,
which were meant to delude them both,
but Ihe forbore to expreb b :r thoughts.
Madame proceeding wiui her plan,
faid, " The Marquis was now expected,
" and fhe hoped whatever differences re-
" mained, would be perfectly adjufted."
Adeline blufhed, and endea\ 7 ouring to re-
ply, her lips faltered. Confcious of this
agitation, and of the obfervance of Ma-
dame La Motte, her confufion increafed,
and her endeavours to fupprefs ferved
only to heighten it. Srill fhe tried to
renew the difcourfe, and flill fhe found
it impoflible to collect her thoughts.
Shocked left Madame fhould apprehend
the fentiment, which had till this mo-
ment been concealed almoft from her-
fclf, her colour fled, (he fixed her eyes
on the ground, and, for fome time, found
it difficult to refpire. Madame La
Motte
r
Motte inquired if Ihe was ill, when Ade-
line, glad of the excufe, withdrew to the
indulgence of her own thoughts, which
were now wholly engrofled by the ex-
pectation of feeing again the young Che-
valier, who had accompanied the Mar-
quis.
As fhe looked from her room, fhe faw
the Marquis on horfeback, with feveral
attendants, advancing at a diftance, and
Ihe h aliened to apprize Madame La
Motte of his approach. In a fhort time,
he arrived at the gates, and Madame
and Louis went out to receive him, La
Motte being not yet returned. He en-
tered the hall, followed by the young
Chevalier, and accofting Madame with
a fort of flately politenefs, inquired for
La Motte, whom Louis now went to
feek.
The Marquis remained for a few mi-
nutes filent, and then afked of Madame
La Motte, " how her fair daughter did ?"
Madame underflood it was Adeline he
meant,
meant, and having anfwered his in-
quiry, and flightly faid that (he was
not related to her, Adeline, upon fome
indication of the Marquis's wi(h, was
fent for : me entered the room with a
modefl blufh and a timid air, which
fc-emed to engage all his attention. His
compliments Ihe received with a fweet
grace, but, when the younger Chevalier
approached, the warmth of his manner
.rendered her's involuntarily more refer-
ved, and fhe fcarcely dared to raife her
eyes from the ground, left they fhould
encounter his.
La Motte now entered and apologi-
zed for his abfence, which the Marquis
noticed only by a flight inclination of
his head, expreffing at the fame time by
his looks, both diftruft and pride. They
immediately quitted the abbey together,
and the Marquis beckoned his attendants
to follow at a diftance. La Motte for-
bade his fon to accompany him, but
Louis obferved he took the way into the
thickeft
thickeft part of the foreft. He was loft
in a chaos of conjecture concerning this
affair, but curiofity and anxiety for his
father induced him to follow at fome
diftance.
In the mean time, the young ftranger,
whom the Marquis had addrefled by the
name of Theodore, remained at the ab-
bey with Madame La Motte and Ade-
line. The former, with all her addrefs,
could not conceal her agitation du-
ring this interval. She moved invo-
luntarily to the door whenever flie heard
a footftep, and feveral times fhe went to
the hall door, in order to look into the
foreft, but as often returned, checked by
difappointment. No perfon appeared.
Theodore feemed to addrefs as much of
his attention to Adeline, as politenefs
would allow him to withdraw from Ma-
dame La Motte. His manners fo gentle,
yet dignified, infenfibly fubdued her ti-
midity, and banifhed her referve. Her
converfation no longer fuffered a pain-
4 ful
ful conftraint, but gradually difclofed the
beauties of her mind, and Teemed to pro-
duce a mutual confidence. A fimilarity
of fentiment foon appeared, and Theo-
dore, by the impatient pleafure which
animated his countenance, feemed fre-
quently to anticipate the thoughts of
Adeline.
To them the abfence of the Marquis
was fhort, though long to Madame La
Motte, whole countenance brightened,
when fhe heard the trampling of horfes
at the gate.
The Marquis appeared but for a mo-
ment, and patTed on with La Motte to
a private room, where they remained
for fome time in conference, immediately
after which he departed. Theodore took
leave of Adeline, who, as well as La
Motte, and Madame, attended them to
the gate, with an exprefikm of tender
regret, and, often as he went, looked
back upon the abbey, till the intervening
branches
branches entirely excluded it from his
view.
The tranfient glow of pleafure diffufed
over the cheek of Adeline difappeared
with the young ftranger, and (he fighed
as fhe turned into the hall. The image
of Theodore purfuedherto her chamber;
fhe recollected with exadtnefs every par-
ticular of his late converfation his fen-
timents fo congenial with her own his
manners fo engaging his countenance
fo animated fo ingenuous and fo noble,
in which manly dignity was blended
with the fweetnefs of benevolence
thefe, and every other grace, fhe recol-
lected, and a foft melancholy ftole upon
her heart. " I fhall fee him no more,"
faid fhe. A Cgh, that followed, told
her more of her heart than fhe wifhed to
know. She blufhed, and fighed again,
and then fuddenly recolledting herfelf,
fhe endeavoured to divert her thoughts
to a different fubjedt. La Motte's con-
nection with the Marquis for fome time
2 engaged
240
engaged her attention, but, unable to
develope the myftery that attended it,
fhe fought a refuge from her own reflec-
tions in the more pleafing ones to be de-
rived from books.
During this time, Louis, fhockedand
furprized at the extreme diftrefs which
his father had manifefted upon the firit
appearance of the Marquis, addrefled
him on the fubject. He had no doubt
that the Marquis was intimately con-
cerned in the event which made it ne-
ceflary for La Motte to leave Paris, and
he fpoke his thoughts without difguife,
lamenting at the fame time the unlucky
chance which had brought him to feek
refuge in a place, of all others, the leaft
capable of affording it the eflate of his
enemy. La Motte did not contradict
this opinion of his fon's, and joined in-
lamenting the evil fate which had con-
ducted him thither.
The term of Louis's abfence from his
regiment, was now nearly expired, and
he
he took occafion to cxprefs his forrow,
g
that he muft foon be obliged to leave his
father in circumftances to dangerous as
the prefenr. " I ihoulcl leave yon, Sir,
" with kfs pain," continued he, " was
" I fure I knew the full extent of your
fi misfortunes. At prefent I am left to
* conjecture evils, which, perhaps, do
" not exift. Relieve me, Sir, from this
u ftate of painful uncertainty, and fuffer
" me to prove myfelf worthy of your
" confidence."
" I have already anfwered you on this
" fubjecV' faid La Motte, " and for-
" bade you to renew it. I am now obli-
" ged to tell you, I care not how foon
" you depart, if I am to be perfecuted
" with thefe inquiries " La Motte
walked abruptly away, and left his fon
to doubt and concern.
The arrival of the Marquis had difli-
patcd the jealous fe^rs of Madame La
Mcttc, and fhe awoke to a fenfe of her
cruelty towards Adeline. When fhe
VOL. I. L confidered
eonfidered her orphan ftate the uni-
form affe&ion which had appeared in
her behaviour the mildncfs and pa-
tience with which fhe had borne her in-
jurious treatment, fhe was {hocked, and
took an early opportunity of renewing
her former kindnefs. But fhe could not
explain this feeming inconfiftency of
conduct, without betraying her late fuf-
picions, which (lie now blufned to re-
member, nor could fhe apologize for her
former behaviour, without giving this
explanation.
She contented herfelf, therefore, with
expreffing in her manner the regard
which was thus revived. Adeline was
at firfl furprized, but fhe felt too much
pleafure at the change to be fcrupulous
in inquiring its caufe.
But notwithftanding the fatisfacYion
which Adeline received from the revival
of Madame La Motte's kindnefs, her
thoughts frequently recurred to the pe-
culiar and forlorn circumftances of her
con^itjon.
condtion. She could not help feeling
lefs confidence than (he had formerly
done in the friendship of Madame La
Motte, whofe character now appeared
lefs amiable than her imagination had re-
prefented it, and feemcd ftrongly tinc-
tured with caprice. Her thoughts often
dwelt upon the flrange introduction of
the Marquis at the abbey, and on the
mutual emotions and apparent diflikc of
La Motte and himfelf ; and, under thefe
circumflances, it equally excited her
furprife that La Motte Ihould chufe, and
that the Marquis fhould permit him, to
remain in his territory.
Her mind returned the oftener, per-
haps, to this f abject, becaufe it was con-
nected with Theodore ; but it returned
unconfcious of the idea which attracted
it. She attributed the interelt (he felt
in the affair to her anxiety for the wel-
fair of La Motte, and for her own future
defoliation, which was now fo deeply
involved in his. Sometimes, indeed, fhe
L 2 caugh
C
caught hcrfelf bufy in conjecture as to
the degree of relationfhip in which The-
odore flood to the Marquis, but fhe
immediately checked her thoughts, and
feverely blamed herfelf for having fuf-
fered them to ftray to an object, which
ihe perceived was too dangerous to her
peace.
CHAP.
CHAP. Vlf.
Prefcnt ills
4t Are left than horrible imaginings."
JULIUS CESAR.
A. Few days after the occurrence rela-
ted in the preceding chapter, as Adeline
fat alone in her chamber, (he wasToufed
from a reverie by a trampling of horfes
near the gate, and, on looking from the
cafement, fhe faw the Marquis de Mon-
talt enter the abbey. This circumftance
furprized her, and an emotion, whofe
caufe (he did not trouble herfelf to in-
quire for, made her inftantly retreat from
the window. The fame caufe, however,
led her thither again as haftily, but the
object of her fearch did not appear, and
ihe was in no hafte to retire.
As flie flood mufing and difappointed,
the Marquis came out with La Motte,
L 3 and,
L -46 ]
I
and, immediately looking up, faw Ade-
line and bowed. She returned his com-
pliment refpedtfully, and withdrew from
the window, vexed at: having been fcen
there. They went into the forefl, but
the Marquis's attendants did not, as be-
fore, follow them thither. When they
returned, which was not till after a confi-
derable time, the Marquis immediately
mounted his horfe and rode away.
For the remainder of the day, La
Motte appeared gloomy and filent, and
was frequently loft in thought. Adeline
obferved him with particular attention
and concern ; fhe perceived that he was
always more melancholy after an inter-
view with the Marquis, and was now
furprized to hear that the latter had ap-
pointed to dine the next day at the abbey.
When La Motte mentioned this, he
added fome high eulogium on the cha-
racter of the Marquis, and particularly
praifed his generofity and noblenefs of
foul. At this inftant Adeline recol-
lected
J
ledtcd the anecdotes ihe had formerly
heard concerning the abbey, and they
threw a fhadow over the brightnefs of
that excellence, which La Motte now
celebrated. The account, however, did
not appear to deferve much credit ; a
part of it, as far as a negative will admit
of demonstration, having been already
proved falfe ; for it had been reported,
that the abbey was haunted, and no fu-
pernatural appearance have ever been
obferved by the prefent inhabitants.
Adeline, however, ventured to in-
quire, whether it was the prefent Mar-
quis of whom thofe injurious reports had
been raifed ? La Motte anfwcred her
with a fmile of ridicule; "Stories of
" ghofts and hobgoblins have always
" been admired and cherifhed by the
" vulgar," faid he. " I am inclined to
" rely upon my own experience, at leaft,
" as rrmch as upon the accounts of thefe
" peafants. If you have feen any thing
" to corroborate thefe accounts, pray
L 4 " inform
t 248 ]
ft inform me of it, that I may eihblifh
" my faith."
" You miftake me, Sir," faid flic,
** it was not concerning fupernatural
"- agency that I would inquire : I al-
4t luded to a different part of the report,
" which hinted, that fome perfon had
" been confined here, by order of the
f * Marquis, who was faid to have died
" unfairly. This was alledged as a rea-
" fon for the Marquis's having abandon-
" ed the abbey."
*' AH the mere coinage of idlnefs,"
faid Li Motte ; t( a romantic tale to ex-
f( cite wonder : to fee the Marquis is
(( alone fuiUcient to refute this ; and if
" we credit half the number of thofc
" ftories that fpring from the fame fource,
" we prove ourfelves little fuperior to
" the fimpletonsvvho invent them. Your
'* good fenfe, Adeline, I think, will
" teach you the merit of difbelief."
Adeline bluflied and was filent ; but
La Mottc's defence of the Marquis ap-
peared
[ 249 ]
peared much warmer, and more diffufe, ,
than was confident with his own difpofi-
tion, or required by the occafion. His >
former converfation with Louis occurred
to her, and flie was the more furprized
at what pafled at prcfent.
She looked forward to the morrow
with a mixture of pain and pleafure ; the
expectation of feeing again the young
Chevalier occupying her thoughts, and
agitating them with a various emotion : :
now flie feared his prt fence, and now -flic
doubted whether he would come. At
length ihe obferved this, and blufhed to
find how much he engaged her atten-
tion. The morrow arrived the Marquis
came but he came alone; and the fun-
dine of Adeline's mind was clouded,
though ihe was able to wear her ufual
air of cheerfulnefs. The Marquis was
polite, affable, and attentive: to man-
ners the moft eafy and elegant, was added
the laft refinement of. poliihfd life. . Hts
conversion was lively, amufing, fome-
L 5 times. v
C 250 ]
times even witty ; and discovered great
knowledge of the world ; or, what is
often miflaken for it, an acquaintance
with the higher circles, and with the to-
pics of the day.
Here La Motte was alfo qualified to
converfe with him, and they entered
into a difcuffion of the characters and
manners of the age with great fpiritand
fome humour. Madame La Motte had
not feen her hufband fo cheerful fince
they left Paris, and fometimes fhe could
almoft fancy Ihe was there. Adeline
liftened, till the cheerfulncfs, which flic
had at firft only afiumed, became real.
The addrefs of the Marquis was fo. tr<j.
nuating and affable, that her referve m-
fenfibly gave way before it, and her na-
tural vivacity refumed its long loft em-
pire.
At parting, the Marquis told La Motte
he rejoiced at having found fo agree-
able a neighbour. La Motte bowed.
'* I fliall fometime vifit you," continued
he,
he, " and I lament that I cannot at pre*
" fent invite Madame La Motte and her
" fair friend to my chateau, but it is un-
" dergoing fome repairs, which make it
" but an uncomfortable refidence."
The vivacity of La Motte difappeared
with h's gueft, and he foon relapfed into
fits of filence and abftradtion. " The
Marquis is a very agreeable man," faid
Madame La Motte. "Very agreeable,"
replied he. " And feems to have an
" excellent heart," (he reamed. "An
" excellent one," laid La Motte.
*' You feem difcompofed, my dear ;,
" what has difturbed you?"
" Not in the leaft I was only think-
" ing, that with fuch agreeable talents,
" and fuch an excellent heart, it was a
" pity theMarquis fhould"
" What ? my dear," faid Madame
with impatience : " That the Marquis
* l fhould fhould fuffer this abbey to fall
" into ruins," replied La Motte.
L 6 Is
" Is that all ! " faid Madame with dif-
appointment. l( That is all, upon my
" honour," faid La motte, and left the
room.
Adeline's fplrits no longer fupported
by the animated converfation of the Mar-
quis, funk into languor, and v\hen he
departed, Ihe walked penfively into the
foreft, She followed a little romantic
path that wound along the margin of the
ftream, and was overhung with deep
fliades. The tranquillity of the fcene,
which autumn now touched with her
fweeteft tints, foftencd her mind to a
tender kind of melancholy, and (he
fufFercd a tear, which, Ihe knew not
wherefore, had ftolen into her eye, to
tremble there unchecked. She came to
a little lonely recefs, formed by high
trees; the wind fighed mournfully
among the branches, and as it waved
their lofty heads fcattered their leaves
to the ground. She feated herfelf on a
bank beneath, and indulged the melan-
choly
t 2 53 1
choly reflections that prefled to her
mind.
O ! could 1 dive into futurity and
*' behold the events which await me !"
faid Ihe ; " I fhould, perhaps, by con-
" (lant contemplation^ be enabled to
" meet them with fortitude. An orphan
'* in this wide world thrown upon the
" friendfliip of ftrangers for comfort,
*' and upon their bounty for the very
" means of exiftence, what but evil have
" I to expect ! Alas, my father ! how
*' could you thus abandon your child
*' how leave her to the ftorms of life to
" fink, perhaps, beneath them ? Alas,
" I have no friend ! "
She was interrupted by a ruftling
among the fallen leaves; fhe turned her
head, and perceiving the Marquis's
young friend, arofe to depart. " Par-
<c don this intrufion," faid he, " your
<e voice attracted me hither, and your
" words detained me : my offence, how-
** ever, brings with it its own punilhrnent,
<f having
" havinglearned yourforrows hoxvcarr
" I help fceHng them myfeli ? Would
" that my fympathy, or my fuffering,
" could refcue you from them !" He
hefitared " Would that I could deferve
" the title of your friend, and be thought
" worthy of it by yourfelf ! "
The confufion of Adeline's thoughts
would fcarcely permit her to reply ; me
trembled, and gently withdrew her hand,
which he had taken while he fpoke.
" You have, perhaps, heard, Sir, more
" than is true : I am, indeed, not happy,
" but a moment of dejection has made
" me unjuft, and I am lefs unfortunate-
" than 1 have reprefcnted. When I faid
" I had no friend, I was ungrateful to
" the kindnefs of Monfieur and Madame
" La Motte, who have been more than
" friends have been as parents to me."
" If fo, I honour them," cried Theo-
dore with warmth ; " and if I did not
" feel it to be prefumption,! would afk
t( why you are unhappy ? But" He
paufed.
paufed. Adeline, raiting her eyes, fa\v
him gazing upon her with intenfe and
eager anxiety, and her looks were again
fixed upon the ground. " I have painsd
" you," faid Theodore, " by an im-
" proper requeft. Can you forgive me,
" and alfo when I add, that it was an in-
" tcreft in your welfare, which urged
" my inquiry ?"
" Forgivenefs, Sir, it is unneceflary
" te afk. I am certainly obliged by the
*' compaffion you exprefs. But the
" evening is cold, if you pleafe, we will
" walk towards the abbey." As they
moved on, Theodore was for fome
time filent. At length, " It was but
" lately that T folicited your pardon,"
faid he " and I lhall now, perhaps,
" have need of it again ; but you will do
" me the juftice to believe, that I have a
" ftrong, and, indeed, a preffing reafon
" to inquire how nearly you are related
" to Monfieur La Motte."
" We
*' We are not at all related," faid
Adeline ; " but the fervice he has done
" me I can never repay, and I hope my
*' gratitude will teach me never to for-
" get it."
" Indeed!" faid Theodore, furpriz-
*' ed : and may I afk how long you have
*' known him?"
" Rather, Sir, let me aflc, why thefc
" queftions fhould be neceflary ?"
" You are juft," faid he, with an air
of felf-condemnation, " my conduct has
" defcrved this reproof; I Ihould have
" been more explicit." He looked as
if his mind was labouring with fome-
thing which he was unwilling to exprefs*
" But you know not how delicately I am
" circu:nftanced/' continued he, " yet
" I will aver, that my queftions are
" prompted by the tendered intercft in
u your happincfs and even by my fears
** for your fafety." Adeline darted. " I
*' fear you are deceived," faid he, " I -
** fear there's danger near you."
Adeline
C
Adeline flopped, and, looking ear-
neftly at him, begged he would explain
himfelf. She fufpeded that fome mif-
chief threatened La Motte; and Theo-
dore continuing filent, Ihe repeated her
requeft. " If La Motte is concerned in
" this danger," faid me, " let me en-
" treat you to acquaint him with it 5m-
" mediately. He has but too many
" misfortunes to apprehend."
" Excellent Adeline!" cried Theo-
dore, " that heart muft be adamant that
" would injure you. How fhall I hint
" what I fear is too true, and how for-
" bear to warn you of your danger, with-
" out" He was interrupted by a ftcp
among the trees, and prefently after
law La Motte crofs into the path they
were in. Adeline felt confufed at being
thus feen with the Chevalier, and was
haftening to join La Motte, but Theo-
dore detained her, and entreated a mo-
ment's attention. " There is now no
" time to explain myfelf," faid he;
" yet
" yet what I would fay is of the utmoft
" confequence to your/elf.
" Pro'mife, therefore, to meet me in
" fome part of the forefl at about this
" time to-morrow evening, you will
" then, I hope, be convinced that my
" condudt is directed, neither by com-
" mon circumftances, nor common re-
" gard." Adeline Juddered at the idea
of making an appointment ; flie hefi-
tated, and at length entreated Theo-
dore not to delay till to-morrow an ex-
planation which appeared to be fo im-
portant, but to follow La Motte and
inform him of his danger immediately.
*' It is not with La Motte I would fpeak,'*
replied Theodore ; " I know of no dan-
" ger that threatens him but he ap-
" preaches; be quick, lovely Adeline,
" and promife to meet me."
" I do promife/' faid Adeline, in
a faukering voice ; " I will come to the
'* fpot where you found me this evening,
" an hour earlier to-morrow." Saying
this,
I *59 1
this, (he withdrew her trembling hnnd
which Theodore had prefied to his lips,
in token of acknowledgement, and he
immediately difappeared.
La Motte now approached Adeline,
who, fearing that he had feen Theodore,
was in fome confufion. " Whither is
" Louis gone fo faft?" faid La Motte.
She rejoiced to find his mid-ike, and fuf-
fered him to remain in it. They walked
penfively towards the abbey, where Ade-
line, too much occupied by her own
thoughts to bear company, retired to her
chamber. She ruminated upon the words
of Theodore, and the more Ihe confi-
* dered them, the more Ihe was perplexed.
Sometimes flie blamed herfelf for having
made an appointment-, doubting whe-
ther he had not folicited it for the purpofe
of pleading a paffion ; and now delicacy
checked this thought, and made her
vexed that flie had prefumed upon
having infpired one. She recollected
the ferious earneilnefs of his voice and
manner,
[ 260 ]
manner, when he entreated her to meet
him; and as they cominced her of the
importance of the fubjecl:, fhe fhuddered
at a danger, which Ihe could not com-
prehend, looking forward to the morrow
with anxious impatience.
Sometimes, too, a remembrance of the
tender intereft he had exprefled for her
welfare, and of his correfpondent look
and air, would fleal acrofs her memory,
awakening a pleafing emotion and a latent
hope that Ihe was not indifferent to him.
From reflections like thefe fhe was roufed
by a fummons to flipper : the repafl was
a melancholy one, it behg the laft even-
ing of Louis's (lay at the abbey. Ade-
line, who efteemed him, regretted his
departure, while his eyes were often bent
on her, with a look which feemed to ex-
prefs that he was about to leave the ob-
ject of his affection. She endeavoured,
by her cheerfulnefs, to re-animate the
\\hole party, and efpecially Madame
La Motte, who frequently fhed tears.
" We
J
t We fhall foon meet again/' fakl Ade-
line, " I truft, in happier circumftances."
La Motte fighed. The countenance of
Louis brightened at her words. " Do you
" wifliit?" faid he, with peculiar em-
phafis. " Mod certainly I do,*' fhe
replied. " Can you doubt my regard
" for my beft friends?"
" I cannot doubt any thing that is
" good of you," faid he.
" You forget you have left Paris,"
faid La Motte to his fon, while a faint
fmile crofled his face, " fuch a com pi i-
" ment would there be in character with
' the place in thefe folitary woods it
" is quite outre"
" The language of admiration is not
" always that of compliment, Sir," faid
Louis. Adeline, willing to change the
difcourfe, afked to what part of France
he was going. He replied, that his regi-
ment was now at Peronne, and he fhould
go immediately thither. After fome
mention of indifferent fubje&s, the fa-
mily
trifly withdrew for the night to their fevc-
ral chambers.
The approaching departure of her foa
occupied the thoughts of Madame La
Motte, and ihe appeared at break faft
with eyes fvvoln with weeping. The
pale countenance of Louis feemed to in-
dicate that he had refted no better than
his mother. When breakfaft was over,
Adeline retired for a while, that flic
might not interrupt, by her prefencc,
their laft converfation. As Ihe walked
on the lawn before the abbey (he returned
in thought to the occurrence of yefterday
evening, and her impatience for the ap-
pointed interview increafed. She was
loon joined by Louis. " It was unkind
" of you to leave us," faid he, " in the
" laft moments of my (lay. Could I hope
" that you would fometimes remember
" me, when I am far away, I fhould
" depart with lefs forrow." He then
exprefTed his concern at leaving her,
and though he had hitherto armed him-
4 fclf
3
fclf with refolution to forbear a direct
avowal of an attachment which mud be
fruitlefs, his heart now yielded to the
force of paffion, and he told what Ade-
line every moment feared to hear.
t( This declaration," faid Adeline, en-
deavouring to overcome the agitation it
excited, " gives me inexpreffible con-
" cern."
i.
" O, fay not fo ! " interrupted Louis,
" but give me fome flender hope to fup-
" port me in the miferies of abfence.
" Say that you do not hate me Say"
" That I do moft readily fay," replied
Adeline, in a tremulous voice ; " if it
" will give you pleafure to be aflured of
" my efteerh and friendfhip receive this
(( aflurance : as the fon of my beft be-
" nefactors, you are entitled to"
" Name not benefits," faid Louis,
" your merits out-run them all : and (uf-
" fer me to hope for a fentiment lefs cool
" than that of friendlhip, as well as to-
" believe that I do not owe your appro*
" batioa
C *6 4 3
" bation of me to the actions of others.
" I have long borne my paffion in filence,
(t becaufe I forefaw the difficulties that
" would attend ir, nay, I have even
" dared to endeavour to overcome it : I
" have dared to believe it poffible, for-
" give the fuppofition, that I could for-
" get you and"
" You diflrefs me," interrupted Ade-
line; "this is a converfation which I
" ought not to hear. I am above dif-
" guife, and, therefore, aflure you,
" that, though your virtues will always
" command my efleem, you have nor
" thing to hope from my love. Were
*' it even otherwife, our circumftances
" would effectually decide for us. If
" you are really my friend, you will re-
" joice that I am fpared the ftruggle
" between affedtion and prudence^ Let
" me hope alfo, that time will teach you
' to reduce love within the limits of
" fiicndfhip."
"Never!"
[ *s 3
* s Never !" cried Louis vehemently :
** Were this poffible, my paflion would
" be unworthy of its obje<fl." While
he fpoke, Adeline's favourite fawn came
bounding towards her. This ciroum-
ftance affefted Louis even to tears.
" This little animal," faid he, after a
ihort paufe, " firft conducted me to you :
" ic was witnefs to that happy moment
" when I firft faw you, furrounded by at-
'* traclions too powerful for my heart ;
" that moment is now frelh in my me-
<e mory, and the creature comes even to
fe witnefs this fad one of my departure."
Grief interrupted his utterance.
Wlien he recovered his voice, lie faid,
<f Adeline i when you look upon your
" little favourite and carefs it, remember
t( the unhappy Louis, who will then be
" far, far from you. Do not deny me
" the poor confelation of believing
" this!"
" I lhall not require fuch a monitor,"
faid Adeline with a fmile ; " your excel-
VOL. L M lent
<c
[ 266 ]
lent parents and your own" merits
" have fufficient claim upon my re-
" membrance. Could I fee your natu-
" ral good fenfe refume its influence
" over paffion, my fatisfadtion would
" equal my efteem for you."
" Do not hope," faid Louis, " nor
" will I vvifli it for paffion here is vir-
" tue." As he fpoke, he faw La Motte
turn round an angle of the abbey. " The
" moments are precious," faid he, " I
*' am interrupted. O ! Adeline, fare-
" wel ! and fay that you will fometimes
think of me."
(( Farewel," faid Adeline, who was
affc&ed by his diflrcfs " farewel !
" and peace attend you, I will think of
" you with the affection of a filler."
He fighed deeply, and prcfled her hand;
when La Motte, winding round another
projection of the ruin, again appeared.
Adeline left them together, and with-
drew to her chamber, opprefTed by the
fcene. Louis's paffion and her efteem
were
C
were too fincere not to infpire her with
a ftrong degree of pity for his unhappy-
attachment. She remained in her cham-
ber till he had quitted the abbey, unwill-
ing to fubject him or herfelf to the pain
of a formal parting.
As evening and the hour of appoint-
ment drew nigh, Adeline's impatience in-
creafed ; yet, when the time arrived, her
refolution failed, and fhe faultered from
her purpofe. There was fomething of in-
delicacy and diffimulation in an appointed
interview, on her part, that Ihocked her.
She recollefted the tendernefs of Theo-
dore's manner, and feveral little circum-
ftances which feemed to indicate that his
heart was not unconcerned in the event.
Again fhc was inclined to doubt whether
he had not obtained her confent to this
meeting upon fome groundlefs fufpi-
cion ; and flie almoft determined not to
go : yet it was poflible Theodore's af-
fertion might be fincere, and her danger
real ; the chance of this made her de-
M 2 licate
[ 268 ]
Ifcate fcruples appear ridiculous ; fhe
wondered that fhe had for a moment fuf-
fered them to weigh aginft fo ftrious aa
intereft, and, blaming herfelf for the de-
lay they had occafioned, haflened to_the
place, of appointment.
The little path, which led to this fpot,,
was filent and folitary, and when fhe
reached the recefs, Theodore had not ar-
rived. A tranfient pride made her un-i
willing he fhould find that Ihe was
more punctual to his appointment than-
himfelf ; and fhe turned from the recefs
into a track, which wound among the
trees to the right. Having walked fome
way, without feeing any perfon, or hear-
ing a footftcp, fhe returned ; but he was
not come, and fhe again kft the place.
A fecond time Ihe came back, and Theo-
dore was ftill abfent. Recollecting the
time at which fhe had quitted the abbey,
fhe grew uneafy, and calculated that the
hour appointed was no\v much exceed-
ed. She was offended and perplexed :
but
3
but fhe feated herfelf on the turf, an *
was refolved to wait the event. After
remaining here till the fall of twilight in
fruirlefs expectation, her pride became
more alarmed ; flie feared that he had
difcovered fomething of the partiality he
had infpired, and believing that he now
treated her with purpofed neglect, fhe
quitted the place with difguft and felf-
accufation.
When thefe emotions fubfided, and
reafon refumed its influence, ihe blufhed
for what fhe termed this childifh effcrvef-
eenceoffelf-lover She recollected, as if for
the firft time, thefe words of Theodore :
" I fear you are deceived, and that fonie
" danger is near you/' Her judgment
now acquitted the offender, and fhe favv
only the friend. The import of thefe
words, whofe truth (lie no longer doubt-
ed, again alarmed her. Why did he
trouble himfelf to come from the cha-
teau, on purpofe to hint her danger, if
he did not wifli to preferve her? And if
M 3 he
C 2 7^ 3
he wifhed to preferve her, what but nc-
ce/Tity could have withheld him from the
appointment ?
Thefe reflections decided her at once
She refolved to repair on the following
day at the fame hour to the recefs, whi-
ther the intereft, which (he believed him
to take in her fate, would no doubt con-
dud: him in the hope of meeting her.
That fome evil hovered over her flic
could not difbelicve, tut what it might
be, (lie was unable to gucfs. Monfieur
and Madame La Motte were her friends,
and who elfc, removed, as ihe now
thought herfelf, beyond the reach of her
father, could injure her ? But why did
Theodore fay Ihe was deceived ? She
found it impoflible to extricate herfelf
from the labyrinth of conjecture, but en-
deavoured to command her anxiety till
the following evening. In the mean
time flie engaged herfelf in efforts to
amufe Madame La Motte, who required
feme relief, after the departure of her Ton.
Thus
C *7 ]
Thus opprefied by her own<:ares,and
interefled by thofe of Madame La Motte,
Adeline retired to reft. She foon loft
her recollection, but it was only to fall
into harrafTed {lumbers, fuch as but too
often haunt the couch of the unhappy.
At length her perturbed fancy fuggefted
the following dream.
She thought fhe was in a large old
chamber belonging to the abbey, more
ancient and defolate, though in part fur-
nifhed, than any fhe had yet feen. It
was ftrongly barricadocd, yet no perfon
appeared. While fhe flood muring and
furveying the apartment, fhe heard a low
voice call her, and, looking towards the
place whence it came, the perceived by
the dim light of a lamp a figure ftretched
on a bed that lay on the floor. The
voice called again, and approaching the
bed, fhe diftincftly faw the features of a
man who appeared to be dying. A
ghaflly palenefs overfpr^ad his counte-
nance, yet there was an expreffion of
mild-
C 2 7 2 3
mfldnefs and dignity in it, which tfrong-
]y interefted her.
While (he looked on him his features
changed and feemed convulfed in the
agonies of death. The fpedlacle (hock-
ed her, and fhe ftarted back, but he fud-
denly ftretched forth his hand, and feiz-
ing her's, grafped it with violence : ihe
ftruggled in terror to difengage herfelf,
and again looking on his face, faw a
man, who appeared to be about thirty,
with the fame features, but in full health,
and of a moft benign countenance. He
fmiled tenderly upon her and moved his
lips, as if to fpeak, when the floor of the
chamber fuddenly opened and he funk
from her view. The effort fhe made to
fave herfelf from following, awoke her.
This dream had fo ftrongly imprefled
her fancy, that it was fonae time before
Ihe could overcome the terror it occa-
fioned, or even be perfectly convinced
flie was in her own apartment. At
length,
[
flt..-.J
*73 3
length, however, fhecompofed herfelf to
fleep ; again fhe fell into a. dream.
She thought fhe was bewildered in
fome winding paffages of the abbey;
that it was ahnoft dark, and that fhe
wandered about a confiderable time,
without being able to find a door. Sud-
denly fhe heard a bell toll from above,
and foon after a confufion of diftant
voices. She redoubled her efforts to ex-
tricate herfelf. Prefently all was ftill,
and, at length, wearied with the fearch,
flie fat down on a ftep that crofted the
paflage. She had not been long here,
when fhe faw a light glimmer at a dif-
tance on the walls, but a turn in the paf-
fage, which was very long, prevented
her feeing from what it proceeded. It
continued to glimmer faintly for fome
time, and then grew ftronger, when fhe
faw a man enter the paffage, habited in a
long black cloak, like thofe ufually worn
by attendants at funerals, and bearing a
torch. He called to her to follow him,
and
C *74 I
and led her through a long pafiage to
the foot of a ftaircafe. Here fhe feared
to proceed, and was running back, when
the man fuddenly turned to purfue her,
and with the terror, which this occafion-
ed, fhe awoke.
Shocked by thefe vifions, and more
fo by their feeming connection, which
now flruck" her, (he endeavoured to con-
tinue awake, left their terrific images
ftiould again haunt her mind : after fome
time, however, her harrafled fpirits again
funk into flumber, though not to re-
pofc.
She now thought herfelf in a large
old gallery, and faw at one end of it a
chamber door (landing a little open, and
a light within : (he went towards it, and
perceived the man fhe had before feen,
(landing at the door, and beckoning her
towards him. With the inconfiftency fo
common in dreams, (he no longer endea-
voured to avoid him, but advancing, fol-
lowed him into a fuitc of very ancient
apart-
C 75 1
apartments, hung with black, and light-
ed up as if for a funeral. Still he led
her on, till (he found herfelf in the fame
chamber (he remembered to have feen in
her former dream : a coffin, covered with
a pall, flood at the farther end of the
room ; fome lights, and feveral perfons
furrounded it, who appeared to be in
great diftrefs.
Suddenly, fhe thought thefe perfons
were all gone, and that fhe was left
alone; that fhe went up to the coffin,
and while fhe gazed upon it, (he heard
a voice fpeak, as if from within, but faw
nobody. The man (he had before feen,
foon after flood by the coffin, and lifting
the pall, fhe faw beneath it a dead per-
fon, whom fhe thought to be the dying
Chevalier fhe had feen in her former
dream : his features were funk in death,
but they were yet ferene. While fhe
looked at him, a ftream of blood gulhed
from his fide, and defcending to the
floor, the whole chamber was overflow-
s' cd;
C *7 ]
cd ; at the fame time Come words were
uttered in the voice fh j heard before; but
the horror of the fcene fo entirely over-
came her, that (he darted and awoke.
f When fhe had recovered her recollec-
tion, (he raifed herfelf in the bed, to be
Convinced it was a dream fhe had wit-
netted, and the agitation of her fpirits
was fo great, that fhe feared to be alone,
and almoft determined to call Annette.
The features of the deceafed perfon, and
the chamber where he lay, were flrongly
imprefled upon her memory, and fhe flill
thought me heard the voice, and faw the
countenance which her dream reprefent-
e<t. The longer fhe confidcred thefe
dreams, the more fhe was furprized :
they were fo very terrible, returned fo
often, and feemed to be fo connected
with each other, that fhe could fcarcely
think them accidental ; yet, why they
fliould be fupernatural, flie could not
tell. She flept no more that night.
'3 01
END or VOL. I f
University of California
SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY
305 De Neve Drive - Parking Lot 17 Box 951388
LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA 90095-1388
Return this material to the library from which it was borrowed.
QL APR 12 zoot
V
A 001 338 940 8
UNIVER'
LOL.> Als -.SJLE
IIBR'BY