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 
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