Part 14
In this manner did she pour forth the troubles of her soul, till the hour of supper being arrived, Melanthe's woman knocked at the chamber, and Louisa having opened it, she told her that she was sorry to see such an alteration in the family, but it was her ladyship's pleasure that she should eat at the second table. It is very well, said Louisa, resolving, whatever she endured, not to let Melanthe see any thing she could do disturbed her too much, and in saying so, went with her into the hall and sat down to table, but with what appetite I leave the reader to guess.
Melanthe, who now hated her to a greater degree than ever she had loved her, gave to the ladies who were with her the whole history of Louisa, as far as she knew of it, and rather aggravated, than any way softened the mean condition from which she had relieved her; but when they asked her what that unhappy creature had done to forfeit a continuance of her goodness, she only answered in general, that she had found her to be an ungrateful and perfidious wretch.
As she mentioned no particular influence on which this accusation was grounded, every one was at liberty to judge of it as they pleased.--The accomplishments Louisa was mistress of, made every one convinced she had been educated in no mean way, tho' by some accidents she might have been reduced to the calamities Melanthe had so largely expatiated upon, and more there were who pitied her than approved the behaviour of her superior:--some indeed, who had envied the praises they had heard bestowed on her, were rejoiced at her fall, and made it a matter of mirth wherever they came;--and others again thought themselves affronted by having a person, who they now found was no more than a servant, introduced into their company, and would never visit Melanthe afterward the whole time she stayed in Venice.
The affair, however, occasioned a great deal of discourse: monsieur du Plessis heard of it the next day related after different fashions. The concern he was in was conformable to the passion he had for the fair occasion, and both beyond what is ordinarily to be found in persons of his sex. Impatient to know the truth he went to Melanthe's, and she happening to be abroad, he desired to speak to Louisa, but was told she was indisposed, and could see no company. These orders had been given by Melanthe, but were very agreeable to Louisa herself, who desired to avoid the sight of every one she had conversed with in a different manner from what she could now expect; but of the whole world this gentleman she most wished to shun.
He concealed the trouble he was in as well as he was able, and affecting a careless air, told the person who answered him, that he only came to ask if she had heard the last new song, and that he would send it to her.
The moment he came home he sat down and wrote the following billet.
_To the ever charming_ LOUISA.
"That invincible bar you mentioned, yet made so great a secret of, is at last revealed, and I should be unworthy of the blessing I aspire to, if I were unable to surmount it. Cruel Louisa! you little know me, or the force of that passion you have inspired, to imagine that any difference which chance may have put between us, can make the least alteration in my sentiments!--It is to your own perfections I have devoted my heart, not to the merit or grandeur of your ancestors. What has my love to do with fortune, or with family!--Does a diamond lose any thing of its intrinsic value for being presented by an unknown, or an obscure hand?--My eyes convince me of the charms of my adored Louisa; my understanding shews me those of her mind; and if heaven vouchsafes to bless me with so rich a jewel, I never shall examine whence it came.--If therefore I am not so unhappy as to be hated by you, let not vain punctilloes divide us, and, as the first proof of my inviolable passion, permit me to remove you from a place where you have met with such unworthy treatment:--I hope you wrong me not so far as to suspect I any other designs on you than such as are consistent with the strictest honour; but to prevent all scruples of that nature from entering your gentle breast, I would wish to place you in a convent, the choice of which shall be your own, provided it may be where I sometimes may be allowed to pay my vows to you thro' the grate, till time shall have sufficiently proved my fidelity, and you shall prevail on yourself to recempence my flame, by bestowing on me your hand and heart:--the one I would not ask without the other; but both together would render the happiest of mankind.
_Your eternally devoted_
Du Plessis.
_P.S._ As I perceive it will be next to an impossibility to gain a sight of you while you continue with that ungenerous woman, I entreat to know by a line how I stand in your opinion, and if the offers I make you, in the sincerity of my soul, may be thought worthy your acceptance."
This epistle he ordered his valet de chambre to give to her own hand, if there were a possibility of it; and the fellow so well executed his commission, being acquainted with Melanthe's servants, that he was carried directly up to her chamber. She was a little surprized to see him, because she knew it was contrary to Melanthe's commands that any one should see her; and doubted not but to find she was treated with any kind of respect, would enhance her ill humour to her. But she said nothing that discovered her sentiments on this point, and with all the appearance of a perfect ease of mind, asked what he had to deliver to her. Only a song, mademoiselle, answered he, which my master ordered me to give you, and to desire you will let him know how you like it:--he says it might be turned into an admirable duetto, and begs you would employ your genius on that score and send it by me.
Poor Louisa, who took his words literally, and thought her present circumstances too discordant for the fulfilling his request, opened the supposed piece of music with an aking heart; but when she had perused it, and found the artifice her lover had made use of to communicate his generous intentions to her, it is extremely fine, said she to the valet, and I will do what he requires to the best of my power, but fear I shall not be able to give it such a turn as he may expect. If you please, continued she, to wait a little, I shall not be long before I dispatch you. In speaking these words she went into her closet, and read over and over the offers he had made, in which, with the strictest examination, she could find nothing but what indicated the most perfect love, honour, and generosity. In the first transports of her soul she was tempted to comply; but her second thoughts were absolutely against it.--Those very reasons which would have prevailed with almost any other woman, made her obstinate to refuse:--the more she found him worthy, the less could she support the thoughts of giving him a beggar for a wife; and the more she loved him, the less could she content to be obliged to him; so she took but a small time for consideration, before she returned an answer in these terms:
_To the most accomplished, and most generous monsieur_ DU PLESSIS.
"As it was not owing to my pride or vanity, but merely compliance with the will of Melanthe, that my real meanness was made a secret, I find it revealed without any mortification; but, monsieur, the distance between us is not shortened by being known: as the consciousness of my unworthiness remains with me, and ever must do so, I again repeat the impossibility of accepting your too generous passion, and, after this, you will not wonder I should refuse those other obliging offers you are so good to make.--I left my native country with Melanthe, devoted myself to her service while she was pleased to continue me in it, and only wait her commands for my doing so, or to return to England.--I believe, by what her woman told me this day, the latter will be my fate.--Think not, however, most truly worthy of your whole sex, that I want eyes to distinguish your merits, or a heart capable of being influenced by them, perhaps too deeply for my own future peace:--this is a confession I would not have made, were I ever to see you more; but as I am determined to shut myself from all the world during my abode at Venice, I thought I owed this little recompence to the generous affection you express for me, and had rather you should think any thing of me, than that I am ungrateful.
LOUISA.
_P.S._ I beg, monsieur, after this, you will not attempt either to speak or write to me."
When she had sent this away, she fell into fresh complainings at the severity of her fate, which constrained her to refuse what most she languished for:--the uncertainty how she should be disposed of was also a matter of grief:--she was at this time a prisoner in Melanthe's house: she had sent several messages to that lady, by her woman, entreating to know in what she had offended, but could receive no other answer than abuses, without one word which gave her the least light into the cause of this strange treatment; but that morning she was informed, by the same woman, that her Lady protested she should never more come into her presence, and that she would send her home: this, as she had wrote to monsieur du Plessis, seemed highly probable, as there was no appearance of a reconciliation; and the thoughts in what manner she should begin her life again, on her return, filled her with many anxieties, which, joined to others of a different nature, rendered her condition truly pitiable.
It was in the midst of these perplexing meditations that word was brought her from Melanthe, that she must prepare for her departure on the ensuing day. It was in vain she again begged leave to see her, and to be made acquainted with the reason of her displeasure; but the other would not be prevailed upon, but sent her a purse sufficient to defray the expences of her journey to England, and bid her woman tell her she had no occasion to repine, for she turned her away in a much better condition than she had found her.
CHAP. XV.
_Louisa is in danger of being ravished by the count de Bellfleur; is providentially rescued by monsieur du Plessis, with several other particulars_.
Louisa packed up her things, as she had been commanded, tho' with what confusion of mind is not easy to be expressed; and, when she was ready to go, wrote a letter to Melanthe, thanking her for all the favours she had received from her, acknowledging them to be as unmerited as her late displeasure, which she conjured her to believe she had never, even in thought, done any thing justly to incur;--wished her prosperity, and that she might never find a person less faithful to her interests than she had been. Having desired her woman to deliver this to her, she took leave of the servants, who all loved her extremely, and saw her go with tears in their eyes.
The rout she intended to take was to Padua by water, thence in a post chaise to Leghorn, where she was informed, it would be easy to find a ship bound for England; to what port was indifferent to her, being now once more to seek her fortune, tho' in her native country, and must trust wholly to that providence for her future support, which had hitherto protected her.
Accordingly she took her passage to Padua in one of those boats, which are continually going between Venice and that city; and it being near the close of day when she landed, was obliged to go into an inn, designing to lye there that night, and early in the morning set out for Leghorn.
She was no sooner in bed than, having never been alone in one of those places before, a thousand dreadful apprehensions came into her head: all the stories she had been told, when a child, of robberies and murders committed on travellers in inns, were now revived in her memory:--every little noise she heard made her fall into tremblings; and the very whistling of the wind, which at another time would have lulled her to sleep, now kept her waking: but these ideal terrors had not long possessed her, before she had an occasion of real ones, more shocking than her most timid fancy could have suggested.
The wicked count de Bellfleur, who had taken care to prevent the passion he had excited in Melanthe against her from growing cool, learned, from that deceived lady, in what manner she intended to dispose of her; and no sooner heard which way she went than, attended by one servant, who was the confidant and tool of all his vices, he took boat for Padua, and presently finding out, by describing her, at what inn she was lodged, came directly thither; and, having called the man of the house, asked him if such a young woman were not lodged there, to which being answered in the affirmative, he told him that she was his wife;--that being but lately married to her, in compliance with her request, he had brought her to see the diversions of the carnival, and that she was eloped, he doubted not, but for the sake of a gallant, since he loved her too well to have given her any cause to take so imprudent a step.
The concern he seemed to be under gained immediate credit to all he said; which he easily perceiving, I know, said he, that if I have recourse to a magistrate I shall have a grant, and proper officers to force her to return to her duty; but I would feign reclaim her by fair means:--it is death to me to expose her; and if my perswasions will be effectual, the world shall never know her fault.
The innkeeper then told him she was gone to bed, but he would wait on him to her chamber, and he might call to her to bid her open the door. No, answered the count, if she hears my voice she may, perhaps, be frighted enough to commit some desperate action:--you shall therefore speak to her, and make some pretence for obliging her to rise.
On this they both went up, and the man knocked softly at first, but on her not answering immediately, more loud.--She, who heard him before, but imagining something of what she had heard of others was now going to happen to herself, was endeavouring to assume all the courage she could for supporting her in whatever exigence heaven should reduce her to:--at last she asked who was there, and for what reason she was disturbed. The innkeeper then said he wanted something out of the room, and she must needs open the door. This she refused to do, but got out of bed and began to put on her cloaths, resolving to dye as decently as she could, verily believing they were come to rob and murder her.
The man, who spoke all by the count's direction, then told her, that if she would not open the door, he must be obliged to break it, and presently beat so violently against it, that the poor terrified Louisa expected it to burst, so thought it would be better to unbolt it of her own accord, than, by a vain resistance, provoke worse usage than she might otherwise receive: but what was her astonishment when she beheld the count de Bellfleur! On the first moment the words monsieur du Plessis repeated to her, that _he would have her one way or another,_ came into her mind, and made her give a great shriek; but then almost at the same time the thought that he might possibly be sent by Melanthe to bring her back, somewhat mitigated her fears.--Unable was she to speak, however; and the consternation she appeared to be in at his presence, joined with his taking her by the hand and bidding her be under no apprehensions, confirmed the truth of what he had told the innkeeper, who thinking he had no other business there, and they would be soonest reconciled when alone, left them, together and went down stairs.
When the count saw he was gone,--I could not support the thoughts of seeing you no more, my dear Louisa, said he; I have heard Melanthe's cruel usage of you, and also that your condition is such, that you have no friends in England to receive you if you should prosecute your journey:--I come therefore to make you an offer, which, in your present circumstances, you will find it imprudent, I believe, to reject:--I long have loved you, and if you will be mine, will keep you concealed at a house where I can confide, till my return to the army; then will take the fame care of you, and place you somewhere near my own quarters; and, as I shall go to Paris as soon as the next campaign is over, will there provide for you in as handsome a manner as you can wish;--for be assured, dear lovely girl, that no woman upon earth will ever be capable of making me forsake you.
That she had patience to hear him talk so long in this manner, was wholly owing to the fear and surprize she had been in, and perhaps had not yet recovered enough from, to make any reply to what he said, if he had contented himself only with words; but his actions rouzing a different passion in her soul, she broke from his arms, into which, he had snatched her at the conclusion of his speech, and looking on him with eyes sparkling with disdain and rage,--perfidious man! cried she, is this,--this the consequence of the vows you made Melanthe; and do you think, after this knowledge of your baseness, I can harbour any idea of you, but what is shocking and detestable!
I never loved Melanthe, by heaven, resumed he; she made me advance, and not to have returned, them, would have called even my common civility in question;--but from the first moment I saw your beauties, I was determined to neglect nothing that might give me the enjoyment of them:--fortune has crowned my wishes, you are in my power, and it would be madness in you to lose the merit of yielding, and I compel me to be obliged to my own strength for a pleasure I would rather owe to your softness:--come, come, continued he, after having fastened the door, let us go to bed;--I will save your modesty, by pulling your cloaths off myself. In speaking this he catched hold of her again, and attempted to untye a knot which fastened her robe de chambre at the breast. On this she gave such shrieks, and stamped with her feet so forcibly on the ground, that the innkeeper fearing the incensed husband, as he supposed him to be, was going to kill her, ran hastily up stairs, and called to have the door opened, saying, he would have no murder in his house.
The artful count immediately let him in, and told him, he need be under no apprehensions, his wife was too dear to him to suffer any thing from his resentment; and all the noise you heard, said he, was only because I insisted on her going to bed! By these words Louisa discovered how he had imposed upon the man, and cried out she was not his wife; but as she spoke very bad Italian, and the man understood no French, the count being very fluent in that language, had much the advantage, the innkeeper was fully satisfied, and they were again left alone, having a second opportunity to prosecute his villanous attempt.
You see, said he, how much in vain it is for you to resist:--would it not be wiser in you, therefore, to meet my flames with equal warmth;--to feign a kindness even if you have none, and thereby oblige me to use you with a future tenderness:--believe I love you now with an extravagance of fondness:--it is in your power to preserve that affection for ever:--give me then willingly that charming mouth.
He had all this time been kissing her with the utmost eagerness, so that with all her struggling she had not been able either to disengage herself from his embrace, or to utter one word; and he was very near forcing from her yet greater liberties, when all at once heaven gave her strength to spring suddenly from him, and running to a table where he had laid his sword, she drew it out of the scabbard with so much speed, that he could not prevent her, and making a push at him with one hand, kept him from closing with, or disarming her, till with the other she had plucked back the bolt of the door.
In this posture she flew down stairs, and reached the hall before he overtook her, quite breathless and ready to faint. He was going to lay hold of her, when he found himself seized behind by two persons, whom, on turning to examine the reason, he found was monsieur du Plessis and the innkeeper. He started at the sight of that gentleman, and was going to say somewhat to him in French, when the innkeeper told him, the young woman should be molested no farther till he knew the truth of the affair; for, said he, there is a person, meaning monsieur du Plessis, who is just come in, and says she has no husband, and belongs to an English lady of quality now at Venice:--I will therefore take care of her this night, and if you have any real claim to her, you may make it out before the magistrate to-morrow.
The count was so enraged to find it had been by monsieur du Plessis he had been disappointed, that he snatched his sword from Louisa, who had all this time held it in her hand, and made so furious a thrust at him, that, had he not been more than ordinary nimble in avoiding it, by stepping aside, it must have infallibly gone thro' his body.--He immediately drew and stood on his defence, but the innkeeper and several other people, whom Louisa's cries had by this time brought into the hall, prevented any mischief.
The confusion of voices and uproar which this accident occasioned, would suffer nothing to be heard distinctly; but the guilt of count Bellfleur might easily be read in his looks, and not able to stand the test of any enquiry, he departed with his servant, casting the most malicious reflections as he went out, both on Louisa and her deliverer.
Du Plessis less affected, because innocent, gave every one the satisfaction they desired: he said that the young lady being of English birth, came along with a lady of her own country, to visit several parts of Europe merely for pleasure; that the lady was still at Venice, and that on some little disgust between them, she who was there, meaning Louisa, had quitted her, and was now returning home by the way of Leghorn; of the truth of what he told them, he added, they might be informed, by sending to Venice the next day.
He also said, that having a business to be negotiated in England, he had followed this young lady, in order to beg the favour of her to deliver letters to some friends he had there, not having the opportunity of making this request before, by reason of her departure having been so sudden, that he knew nothing of it before she was gone.
The truth of all this Louisa confirmed, and on farther talk of the affair, acquainted them, that the gentleman who had occasioned this disturbance, for she forbore mentioning his name, had often sollicited her love on unlawful terms, and being rejected by her, had taken this dishonourable way of compassing his desires, at a place where he knew she was alone, and wholly a stranger.
The fright and confusion she had been in, had rendered her so faint, that it was with infinite difficulty she brought out these words; but having something given her to refresh her spirits, and being conducted into another room out of the crowd, she began, by degrees, to recover herself.
Monsieur du Plessis then informed her, that on coming to Melanthe's, and hearing she was gone, he immediately took boat, resolving to prevail on her to alter her resolution of going to England, or dye at her feet: that he easily found the inn she was at, and that the man of the house presently told him, such a person as he described was there; but that he understood she had eloped from her husband, who had pursued, and was now above with her.