CHAPTER III

——These are the Villains

Whom all the Travellers do fear so much.

————Some of them are Gentlemen

Such as the fury of ungoverned Youth

Thrust from the company of awful Men.

TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA.

The Marquis and Lorenzo proceeded to the Hotel in silence. The Former

employed himself in calling every circumstance to his mind, which

related might give Lorenzo’s the most favourable idea of his connexion

with Agnes. The Latter, justly alarmed for the honour of his family,

felt embarrassed by the presence of the Marquis: The adventure which He

had just witnessed forbad his treating him as a Friend; and Antonia’s

interests being entrusted to his mediation, He saw the impolicy of

treating him as a Foe. He concluded from these reflections, that

profound silence would be the wisest plan, and waited with impatience

for Don Raymond’s explanation.

They arrived at the Hotel de las Cisternas. The Marquis immediately

conducted him to his apartment, and began to express his satisfaction

at finding him at Madrid. Lorenzo interrupted him.

“Excuse me, my Lord,” said He with a distant air, “if I reply somewhat

coldly to your expressions of regard. A Sister’s honour is involved in

this affair: Till that is established, and the purport of your

correspondence with Agnes cleared up, I cannot consider you as my

Friend. I am anxious to hear the meaning of your conduct, and hope that

you will not delay the promised explanation.”

“First give me your word, that you will listen with patience and

indulgence.”

“I love my Sister too well to judge her harshly; and till this moment I

possessed no Friend so dear to me as yourself. I will also confess,

that your having it in your power to oblige me in a business which I

have much at heart, makes me very anxious to find you still deserving

my esteem.”

“Lorenzo, you transport me! No greater pleasure can be given me, than

an opportunity of serving the Brother of Agnes.”

“Convince me that I can accept your favours without dishonour, and

there is no Man in the world to whom I am more willing to be obliged.”

“Probably, you have already heard your Sister mention the name of

Alphonso d’Alvarada?”

“Never. Though I feel for Agnes an affection truly fraternal,

circumstances have prevented us from being much together. While yet a

Child She was consigned to the care of her Aunt, who had married a

German Nobleman. At his Castle She remained till two years since, when

She returned to Spain, determined upon secluding herself from the

world.”

“Good God! Lorenzo, you knew of her intention, and yet strove not to

make her change it?”

“Marquis, you wrong me. The intelligence, which I received at Naples,

shocked me extremely, and I hastened my return to Madrid for the

express purpose of preventing the sacrifice. The moment that I arrived,

I flew to the Convent of St. Clare, in which Agnes had chosen to

perform her Noviciate. I requested to see my Sister. Conceive my

surprise when She sent me a refusal; She declared positively, that

apprehending my influence over her mind, She would not trust herself in

my society till the day before that on which She was to receive the

Veil. I supplicated the Nuns; I insisted upon seeing Agnes, and

hesitated not to avow my suspicions that her being kept from me was

against her own inclinations. To free herself from the imputation of

violence, the Prioress brought me a few lines written in my Sister’s

well-known hand, repeating the message already delivered. All future

attempts to obtain a moment’s conversation with her were as fruitless

as the first. She was inflexible, and I was not permitted to see her

till the day preceding that on which She entered the Cloister never to

quit it more. This interview took place in the presence of our

principal Relations. It was for the first time since her childhood that

I saw her, and the scene was most affecting. She threw herself upon my

bosom, kissed me, and wept bitterly. By every possible argument, by

tears, by prayers, by kneeling, I strove to make her abandon her

intention. I represented to her all the hardships of a religious life;

I painted to her imagination all the pleasures which She was going to

quit, and besought her to disclose to me, what occasioned her disgust

to the world. At this last question She turned pale, and her tears

flowed yet faster. She entreated me not to press her on that subject;

That it sufficed me to know that her resolution was taken, and that a

Convent was the only place where She could now hope for tranquillity.

She persevered in her design, and made her profession. I visited her

frequently at the Grate, and every moment that I passed with her, made

me feel more affliction at her loss. I was shortly after obliged to

quit Madrid; I returned but yesterday evening, and since then have not

had time to call at St. Clare’s Convent.”

“Then till I mentioned it, you never heard the name of Alphonso

d’Alvarada?”

“Pardon me: my Aunt wrote me word that an Adventurer so called had

found means to get introduced into the Castle of Lindenberg; That He

had insinuated himself into my Sister’s good graces, and that She had

even consented to elope with him. However, before the plan could be

executed, the Cavalier discovered that the estates which He believed

Agnes to possess in Hispaniola, in reality belonged to me. This

intelligence made him change his intention; He disappeared on the day

that the elopement was to have taken place, and Agnes, in despair at

his perfidy and meanness, had resolved upon seclusion in a Convent. She

added, that as this adventurer had given himself out to be a Friend of

mine, She wished to know whether I had any knowledge of him. I replied

in the negative. I had then very little idea, that Alphonso d’Alvarada

and the Marquis de las Cisternas were one and the same person: The

description given me of the first by no means tallied with what I knew

of the latter.”

“In this I easily recognize Donna Rodolpha’s perfidious character.

Every word of this account is stamped with marks of her malice, of her

falsehood, of her talents for misrepresenting those whom She wishes to

injure. Forgive me, Medina, for speaking so freely of your Relation.

The mischief which She has done me authorises my resentment, and when

you have heard my story, you will be convinced that my expressions have

not been too severe.”

He then began his narrative in the following manner:—

HISTORY OF DON RAYMOND,

MARQUIS DE LAS CISTERNAS

Long experience, my dear Lorenzo, has convinced me how generous is your

nature: I waited not for your declaration of ignorance respecting your

Sister’s adventures to suppose that they had been purposely concealed

from you. Had they reached your knowledge, from what misfortunes should

both Agnes and myself have escaped! Fate had ordained it otherwise! You

were on your Travels when I first became acquainted with your Sister;

and as our Enemies took care to conceal from her your direction, it was

impossible for her to implore by letter your protection and advice.

On leaving Salamanca, at which University as I have since heard, you

remained a year after I quitted it, I immediately set out upon my

Travels. My Father supplied me liberally with money; But He insisted

upon my concealing my rank, and presenting myself as no more than a

private Gentleman. This command was issued by the counsels of his

Friend, the Duke of Villa Hermosa, a Nobleman for whose abilities and

knowledge of the world I have ever entertained the most profound

veneration.

“Believe me,” said He, “my dear Raymond, you will hereafter feel the

benefits of this temporary degradation. ’Tis true, that as the Condé de

las Cisternas you would have been received with open arms; and your

youthful vanity might have felt gratified by the attentions showered

upon you from all sides. At present, much will depend upon yourself:

You have excellent recommendations, but it must be your own business to

make them of use to you. You must lay yourself out to please; You must

labour to gain the approbation of those, to whom you are presented:

They who would have courted the friendship of the Condé de las

Cisternas will have no interest in finding out the merits, or bearing

patiently with the faults, of Alphonso d’Alvarada. Consequently, when

you find yourself really liked, you may safely ascribe it to your good

qualities, not your rank, and the distinction shown you will be

infinitely more flattering. Besides, your exalted birth would not

permit your mixing with the lower classes of society, which will now be

in your power, and from which, in my opinion, you will derive

considerable benefit. Do not confine yourself to the Illustrious of

those Countries through which you pass. Examine the manners and customs

of the multitude: Enter into the Cottages; and by observing how the

Vassals of Foreigners are treated, learn to diminish the burthens and

augment the comforts of your own. According to my ideas, of those

advantages which a Youth destined to the possession of power and wealth

may reap from travel, He should not consider as the least essential,

the opportunity of mixing with the classes below him, and becoming an

eyewitness of the sufferings of the People.”

Forgive me, Lorenzo, if I seem tedious in my narration. The close

connexion which now exists between us, makes me anxious that you should

know every particular respecting me; and in my fear of omitting the

least circumstance which may induce you to think favourably of your

Sister and myself, I may possibly relate many which you may think

uninteresting.

I followed the Duke’s advice; I was soon convinced of its wisdom.

I quitted Spain, calling myself by the assumed title of Don Alphonso

d’Alvarada, and attended by a single Domestic of approved fidelity.

Paris was my first station. For some time I was enchanted with it, as

indeed must be every Man who is young, rich, and fond of pleasure. Yet

among all its gaieties, I felt that something was wanting to my heart.

I grew sick of dissipation: I discovered, that the People among whom I

lived, and whose exterior was so polished and seducing, were at bottom

frivolous, unfeeling and insincere. I turned from the Inhabitants of

Paris with disgust, and quitted that Theatre of Luxury without heaving

one sigh of regret.

I now bent my course towards Germany, intending to visit most of the

principal courts: Prior to this expedition, I meant to make some little

stay at Strasbourg. On quitting my Chaise at Luneville to take some

refreshment, I observed a splendid Equipage, attended by four Domestics

in rich liveries, waiting at the door of the Silver Lion. Soon after as

I looked out of the window, I saw a Lady of noble presence, followed by

two female Attendants, step into the Carriage, which drove off

immediately.

I enquired of the Host, who the Lady was, that had just departed.

“A German Baroness, Monsieur, of great rank and fortune. She has been

upon a visit to the Duchess of Longueville, as her Servants informed

me; She is going to Strasbourg, where She will find her Husband, and

then both return to their Castle in Germany.”

I resumed my journey, intending to reach Strasbourg that night. My

hopes, however were frustrated by the breaking down of my Chaise. The

accident happened in the middle of a thick Forest, and I was not a

little embarrassed as to the means of proceeding.

It was the depth of winter: The night was already closing round us; and

Strasbourg, which was the nearest Town, was still distant from us

several leagues. It seemed to me that my only alternative to passing

the night in the Forest, was to take my Servant’s Horse and ride on to

Strasbourg, an undertaking at that season very far from agreeable.

However, seeing no other resource, I was obliged to make up my mind to

it. Accordingly I communicated my design to the Postillion, telling him

that I would send People to assist him as soon as I reached Strasbourg.

I had not much confidence in his honesty; But Stephano being

well-armed, and the Driver to all appearance considerably advanced in

years, I believed I ran no danger of losing my Baggage.

Luckily, as I then thought, an opportunity presented itself of passing

the night more agreeably than I expected. On mentioning my design of

proceeding by myself to Strasbourg, the Postillion shook his head in

disapprobation.

“It is a long way,” said He; “You will find it a difficult matter to

arrive there without a Guide. Besides, Monsieur seems unaccustomed to

the season’s severity, and ’tis possible that unable to sustain the

excessive cold....”

“What use is there to present me with all these objections?” said I,

impatiently interrupting him; “I have no other resource: I run still

greater risque of perishing with cold by passing the night in the

Forest.”

“Passing the night in the Forest?” He replied; “Oh! by St. Denis! We

are not in quite so bad a plight as that comes to yet. If I am not

mistaken, we are scarcely five minutes walk from the Cottage of my old

Friend, Baptiste. He is a Wood-cutter, and a very honest Fellow. I

doubt not but He will shelter you for the night with pleasure. In the

meantime I can take the saddle-Horse, ride to Strasbourg, and be back

with proper people to mend your Carriage by break of day.”

“And in the name of God,” said I, “How could you leave me so long in

suspense? Why did you not tell me of this Cottage sooner? What

excessive stupidity!”

“I thought that perhaps Monsieur would not deign to accept....”

“Absurd! Come, come! Say no more, but conduct us without delay to the

Wood-man’s Cottage.”

He obeyed, and we moved onwards: The Horses contrived with some

difficulty to drag the shattered vehicle after us. My Servant was

become almost speechless, and I began to feel the effects of the cold

myself, before we reached the wished-for Cottage. It was a small but

neat Building: As we drew near it, I rejoiced at observing through the

window the blaze of a comfortable fire. Our Conductor knocked at the

door: It was some time before any one answered; The People within

seemed in doubt whether we should be admitted.

“Come! Come, Friend Baptiste!” cried the Driver with impatience; “What

are you about? Are you asleep? Or will you refuse a night’s lodging to

a Gentleman, whose Chaise has just broken down in the Forest?”

“Ah! is it you, honest Claude?” replied a Man’s voice from within;

“Wait a moment, and the door shall be opened.”

Soon after the bolts were drawn back. The door was unclosed, and a Man

presented himself to us with a Lamp in his hand. He gave the Guide an

hearty reception, and then addressed himself to me.

“Walk in, Monsieur; Walk in, and welcome! Excuse me for not admitting

you at first: But there are so many Rogues about this place, that

saving your presence, I suspected you to be one.”

Thus saying, He ushered me into the room, where I had observed the

fire: I was immediately placed in an Easy Chair, which stood close to

the Hearth. A Female, whom I supposed to be the Wife of my Host, rose

from her seat upon my entrance, and received me with a slight and

distant reverence. She made no answer to my compliment, but immediately

re-seating herself, continued the work on which She had been employed.

Her Husband’s manners were as friendly as hers were harsh and

repulsive.

“I wish, I could lodge you more conveniently, Monsieur,” said He; “But

we cannot boast of much spare room in this hovel. However, a chamber

for yourself, and another for your Servant, I think, we can make shift

to supply. You must content yourself with sorry fare; But to what we

have, believe me, you are heartily welcome.” ——Then turning to his

wife—“Why, how you sit there, Marguerite, with as much tranquillity as

if you had nothing better to do! Stir about, Dame! Stir about! Get some

supper; Look out some sheets; Here, here; throw some logs upon the

fire, for the Gentleman seems perished with cold.”

The wife threw her work hastily upon the Table, and proceeded to

execute his commands with every mark of unwillingness. Her countenance

had displeased me on the first moment of my examining it. Yet upon the

whole her features were handsome unquestionably; But her skin was

sallow, and her person thin and meagre; A louring gloom over-spread her

countenance; and it bore such visible marks of rancour and ill-will, as

could not escape being noticed by the most inattentive Observer. Her

every look and action expressed discontent and impatience, and the

answers which She gave Baptiste, when He reproached her good-humouredly

for her dissatisfied air, were tart, short, and cutting. In fine, I

conceived at first sight equal disgust for her, and prepossession in

favour of her Husband, whose appearance was calculated to inspire

esteem and confidence. His countenance was open, sincere, and friendly;

his manners had all the Peasant’s honesty unaccompanied by his

rudeness; His cheeks were broad, full, and ruddy; and in the solidity

of his person He seemed to offer an ample apology for the leanness of

his Wife’s. From the wrinkles on his brow I judged him to be turned of

sixty; But He bore his years well, and seemed still hearty and strong:

The Wife could not be more than thirty, but in spirits and vivacity She

was infinitely older than the Husband.

However, in spite of her unwillingness, Marguerite began to prepare the

supper, while the Wood-man conversed gaily on different subjects. The

Postillion, who had been furnished with a bottle of spirits, was now

ready to set out for Strasbourg, and enquired, whether I had any

further commands.

“For Strasbourg?” interrupted Baptiste; “You are not going thither

tonight?”

“I beg your pardon: If I do not fetch Workmen to mend the Chaise, How

is Monsieur to proceed tomorrow?”

“That is true, as you say; I had forgotten the Chaise. Well, but

Claude; You may at least eat your supper here? That can make you lose

very little time, and Monsieur looks too kind-hearted to send you out

with an empty stomach on such a bitter cold night as this is.”

To this I readily assented, telling the Postillion that my reaching

Strasbourg the next day an hour or two later would be perfectly

immaterial. He thanked me, and then leaving the Cottage with Stephano,

put up his Horses in the Wood-man’s Stable. Baptiste followed them to

the door, and looked out with anxiety.

“’Tis a sharp biting wind!” said He; “I wonder, what detains my Boys so

long! Monsieur, I shall show you two of the finest Lads, that ever

stept in shoe of leather. The eldest is three and twenty, the second a

year younger: Their Equals for sense, courage, and activity, are not to

be found within fifty miles of Strasbourg. Would They were back again!

I begin to feel uneasy about them.”

Marguerite was at this time employed in laying the cloth.

“And are you equally anxious for the return of your Sons?” said I to

her.

“Not I!” She replied peevishly; “They are no children of mine.”

“Come! Come, Marguerite!” said the Husband; “Do not be out of humour

with the Gentleman for asking a simple question. Had you not looked so

cross, He would never have thought you old enough to have a Son of

three and twenty: But you see how many years ill-temper adds to

you!—Excuse my Wife’s rudeness, Monsieur. A little thing puts her out,

and She is somewhat displeased at your not thinking her to be under

thirty. That is the truth, is it not, Marguerite? You know, Monsieur,

that Age is always a ticklish subject with a Woman. Come! come!

Marguerite, clear up a little. If you have not Sons as old, you will

some twenty years hence, and I hope, that we shall live to see them

just such Lads as Jacques and Robert.”

Marguerite clasped her hands together passionately.

“God forbid!” said She; “God forbid! If I thought it, I would strangle

them with my own hands!”

She quitted the room hastily, and went up stairs.

I could not help expressing to the Wood-man how much I pitied him for

being chained for life to a Partner of such ill-humour.

“Ah! Lord! Monsieur, Every one has his share of grievances, and

Marguerite has fallen to mine. Besides, after all She is only cross,

and not malicious. The worst is, that her affection for two children by

a former Husband makes her play the Step-mother with my two Sons. She

cannot bear the sight of them, and by her good-will they would never

set a foot within my door. But on this point I always stand firm, and

never will consent to abandon the poor Lads to the world’s mercy, as

She has often solicited me to do. In every thing else I let her have

her own way; and truly She manages a family rarely, that I must say for

her.”

We were conversing in this manner, when our discourse was interrupted

by a loud halloo, which rang through the Forest.

“My Sons, I hope!” exclaimed the Wood-man, and ran to open the door.

The halloo was repeated: We now distinguished the trampling of Horses,

and soon after a Carriage, attended by several Cavaliers stopped at the

Cottage door. One of the Horsemen enquired how far they were still from

Strasbourg. As He addressed himself to me, I answered in the number of

miles which Claude had told me; Upon which a volley of curses was

vented against the Drivers for having lost their way. The Persons in

the Coach were now informed of the distance of Strasbourg, and also

that the Horses were so fatigued as to be incapable of proceeding

further. A Lady, who appeared to be the principal, expressed much

chagrin at this intelligence; But as there was no remedy, one of the

Attendants asked the Wood-man, whether He could furnish them with

lodging for the night.

He seemed much embarrassed, and replied in the negative; Adding that a

Spanish Gentleman and his Servant were already in possession of the

only spare apartments in his House. On hearing this, the gallantry of

my nation would not permit me to retain those accommodations, of which

a Female was in want. I instantly signified to the Wood-man, that I

transferred my right to the Lady; He made some objections; But I

overruled them, and hastening to the Carriage, opened the door, and

assisted the Lady to descend. I immediately recognized her for the same

person whom I had seen at the Inn at Luneville. I took an opportunity

of asking one of her Attendants, what was her name?

“The Baroness Lindenberg,” was the answer.

I could not but remark how different a reception our Host had given

these newcomers and myself. His reluctance to admit them was visibly

expressed on his countenance, and He prevailed on himself with

difficulty to tell the Lady that She was welcome. I conducted her into

the House, and placed her in the armed-chair, which I had just quitted.

She thanked me very graciously; and made a thousand apologies for

putting me to an inconvenience. Suddenly the Wood-man’s countenance

cleared up.

“At last I have arranged it!” said He, interrupting her excuses; “I can

lodge you and your suite, Madam, and you will not be under the

necessity of making this Gentleman suffer for his politeness.

We have two spare chambers, one for the Lady, the other, Monsieur, for

you: My Wife shall give up hers to the two Waiting-women; As for the

Men-servants, they must content themselves with passing the night in a

large Barn, which stands at a few yards distance from the House. There

they shall have a blazing fire, and as good a supper as we can make

shift to give them.”

After several expressions of gratitude on the Lady’s part, and

opposition on mine to Marguerite’s giving up her bed, this arrangement

was agreed to. As the Room was small, the Baroness immediately

dismissed her Male Domestics: Baptiste was on the point of conducting

them to the Barn which He had mentioned when two young Men appeared at

the door of the Cottage.

“Hell and Furies!” exclaimed the first starting back; “Robert, the

House is filled with Strangers!”

“Ha! There are my Sons!” cried our Host. “Why, Jacques! Robert! whither

are you running, Boys? There is room enough still for you.”

Upon this assurance the Youths returned. The Father presented them to

the Baroness and myself: After which He withdrew with our Domestics,

while at the request of the two Waiting-women, Marguerite conducted

them to the room designed for their Mistress.

The two new-comers were tall, stout, well-made young Men,

hard-featured, and very much sun-burnt. They paid their compliments to

us in few words, and acknowledged Claude, who now entered the room, as

an old acquaintance. They then threw aside their cloaks in which they

were wrapped up, took off a leathern belt to which a large Cutlass was

suspended, and each drawing a brace of pistols from his girdle laid

them upon a shelf.

“You travel well-armed,” said I.

“True, Monsieur;” replied Robert. “We left Strasbourg late this

Evening, and ’tis necessary to take precautions at passing through this

Forest after dark. It does not bear a good repute, I promise you.”

“How?” said the Baroness; “Are there Robbers hereabout?”

“So it is said, Madame; For my own part, I have travelled through the

wood at all hours, and never met with one of them.”

Here Marguerite returned. Her Stepsons drew her to the other end of the

room, and whispered her for some minutes. By the looks which they cast

towards us at intervals, I conjectured them to be enquiring our

business in the Cottage.

In the meanwhile the Baroness expressed her apprehensions, that her

Husband would be suffering much anxiety upon her account. She had

intended to send on one of her Servants to inform the Baron of her

delay; But the account which the young Men gave of the Forest rendered

this plan impracticable. Claude relieved her from her embarrassment. He

informed her that He was under the necessity of reaching Strasbourg

that night, and that would She trust him with a letter, She might

depend upon its being safely delivered.

“And how comes it,” said I, “that you are under no apprehension of

meeting these Robbers?”

“Alas! Monsieur, a poor Man with a large family must not lose certain

profit because ’tis attended with a little danger, and perhaps my Lord

the Baron may give me a trifle for my pains. Besides, I have nothing to

lose except my life, and that will not be worth the Robbers taking.”

I thought his arguments bad, and advised his waiting till the Morning;

But as the Baroness did not second me, I was obliged to give up the

point. The Baroness Lindenberg, as I found afterwards, had long been

accustomed to sacrifice the interests of others to her own, and her

wish to send Claude to Strasbourg blinded her to the danger of the

undertaking. Accordingly, it was resolved that He should set out

without delay. The Baroness wrote her letter to her Husband, and I sent

a few lines to my Banker, apprising him that I should not be at

Strasbourg till the next day. Claude took our letters, and left the

Cottage.

The Lady declared herself much fatigued by her journey: Besides having

come from some distance, the Drivers had contrived to lose their way in

the Forest. She now addressed herself to Marguerite, desiring to be

shown to her chamber, and permitted to take half an hour’s repose. One

of the Waiting-women was immediately summoned; She appeared with a

light, and the Baroness followed her up stairs. The cloth was spreading

in the chamber where I was, and Marguerite soon gave me to understand

that I was in her way. Her hints were too broad to be easily mistaken;

I therefore desired one of the young Men to conduct me to the chamber

where I was to sleep, and where I could remain till supper was ready.

“Which chamber is it, Mother?” said Robert.

“The One with green hangings,” She replied; “I have just been at the

trouble of getting it ready, and have put fresh sheets upon the Bed; If

the Gentleman chooses to lollop and lounge upon it, He may make it

again himself for me.”

“You are out of humour, Mother, but that is no novelty. Have the

goodness to follow me, Monsieur.”

He opened the door, and advanced towards a narrow staircase.

“You have got no light!” said Marguerite; “Is it your own neck or the

Gentleman’s that you have a mind to break?”

She crossed by me, and put a candle into Robert’s hand, having received

which, He began to ascend the staircase. Jacques was employed in laying

the cloth, and his back was turned towards me.

Marguerite seized the moment, when we were unobserved. She caught my

hand, and pressed it strongly.

“Look at the Sheets!” said She as She passed me, and immediately

resumed her former occupation.

Startled by the abruptness of her action, I remained as if petrified.

Robert’s voice, desiring me to follow him, recalled me to myself. I

ascended the staircase. My conductor ushered me into a chamber, where

an excellent wood-fire was blazing upon the hearth. He placed the light

upon the Table, enquired whether I had any further commands, and on my

replying in the negative, He left me to myself. You may be certain that

the moment when I found myself alone was that on which I complied with

Marguerite’s injunction. I took the candle, hastily approached the Bed,

and turned down the Coverture. What was my astonishment, my horror, at

finding the sheets crimsoned with blood!

At that moment a thousand confused ideas passed before my imagination.

The Robbers who infested the Wood, Marguerite’s exclamation respecting

her Children, the arms and appearance of the two young Men, and the

various Anecdotes which I had heard related, respecting the secret

correspondence which frequently exists between Banditti and

Postillions, all these circumstances flashed upon my mind, and inspired

me with doubt and apprehension. I ruminated on the most probable means

of ascertaining the truth of my conjectures. Suddenly I was aware of

Someone below pacing hastily backwards and forwards. Every thing now

appeared to me an object of suspicion. With precaution I drew near the

window, which, as the room had been long shut up, was left open in

spite of the cold. I ventured to look out. The beams of the Moon

permitted me to distinguish a Man, whom I had no difficulty to

recognize for my Host. I watched his movements.

He walked swiftly, then stopped, and seemed to listen: He stamped upon

the ground, and beat his stomach with his arms as if to guard himself

from the inclemency of the season. At the least noise, if a voice was

heard in the lower part of the House, if a Bat flitted past him, or the

wind rattled amidst the leafless boughs, He started, and looked round

with anxiety.

“Plague take him!” said He at length with impatience; “What can He be

about!”

He spoke in a low voice; but as He was just below my window, I had no

difficulty to distinguish his words.

I now heard the steps of one approaching. Baptiste went towards the

sound; He joined a man, whom his low stature and the Horn suspended

from his neck, declared to be no other than my faithful Claude, whom I

had supposed to be already on his way to Strasbourg. Expecting their

discourse to throw some light upon my situation, I hastened to put

myself in a condition to hear it with safety. For this purpose I

extinguished the candle, which stood upon a table near the Bed: The

flame of the fire was not strong enough to betray me, and I immediately

resumed my place at the window.

The objects of my curiosity had stationed themselves directly under it.

I suppose that during my momentary absence the Wood-man had been

blaming Claude for tardiness, since when I returned to the window, the

latter was endeavouring to excuse his fault.

“However,” added He, “my diligence at present shall make up for my past

delay.”

“On that condition,” answered Baptiste, “I shall readily forgive you.

But in truth as you share equally with us in our prizes, your own

interest will make you use all possible diligence. ’Twould be a shame

to let such a noble booty escape us! You say, that this Spaniard is

rich?”

“His Servant boasted at the Inn, that the effects in his Chaise were

worth above two thousand Pistoles.”

Oh! how I cursed Stephano’s imprudent vanity!

“And I have been told,” continued the Postillion, “that this Baroness

carries about her a casket of jewels of immense value.”

“May be so, but I had rather She had stayed away. The Spaniard was a

secure prey. The Boys and myself could easily have mastered him and his

Servant, and then the two thousand Pistoles would have been shared

between us four. Now we must let in the Band for a share, and perhaps

the whole Covey may escape us. Should our Friends have betaken

themselves to their different posts before you reach the Cavern, all

will be lost. The Lady’s Attendants are too numerous for us to

overpower them: Unless our Associates arrive in time, we must needs let

these Travellers set out tomorrow without damage or hurt.”

“’Tis plaguy unlucky that my Comrades who drove the Coach should be

those unacquainted with our Confederacy! But never fear, Friend

Baptiste. An hour will bring me to the Cavern; It is now but ten

o’clock, and by twelve you may expect the arrival of the Band. By the

bye, take care of your Wife: You know how strong is her repugnance to

our mode of life, and She may find means to give information to the

Lady’s Servants of our design.”

“Oh! I am secure of her silence; She is too much afraid of me, and fond

of her children, to dare to betray my secret. Besides, Jacques and

Robert keep a strict eye over her, and She is not permitted to set a

foot out of the Cottage. The Servants are safely lodged in the Barn; I

shall endeavour to keep all quiet till the arrival of our Friends. Were

I assured of your finding them, the Strangers should be dispatched this

instant; But as it is possible for you to miss the Banditti, I am

fearful of being summoned to produce them by their Domestics in the

Morning.”

“And suppose either of the Travellers should discover your design?”

“Then we must poignard those in our power, and take our chance about

mastering the rest. However, to avoid running such a risque, hasten to

the Cavern: The Banditti never leave it before eleven, and if you use

diligence, you may reach it in time to stop them.”

“Tell Robert that I have taken his Horse: My own has broken his bridle,

and escaped into the Wood. What is the watch-word?”

“The reward of Courage.”

“’Tis sufficient. I hasten to the Cavern.”

“And I to rejoin my Guests, lest my absence should create suspicion.

Farewell, and be diligent.”

These worthy Associates now separated: The One bent his course towards

the Stable, while the Other returned to the House.

You may judge, what must have been my feelings during this

conversation, of which I lost not a single syllable. I dared not trust

myself to my reflections, nor did any means present itself to escape

the dangers which threatened me. Resistance, I knew to be vain; I was

unarmed, and a single Man against Three: However, I resolved at least

to sell my life as dearly as I could. Dreading lest Baptiste should

perceive my absence, and suspect me to have overheard the message with

which Claude was dispatched, I hastily relighted my candle and quitted

the chamber. On descending, I found the Table spread for six Persons.

The Baroness sat by the fireside: Marguerite was employed in dressing a

sallad, and her Step-sons were whispering together at the further end

of the room. Baptiste having the round of the Garden to make, ere He

could reach the Cottage door, was not yet arrived. I seated myself

quietly opposite to the Baroness.

A glance upon Marguerite told her that her hint had not been thrown

away upon me. How different did She now appear to me! What before

seemed gloom and sullenness, I now found to be disgust at her

Associates, and compassion for my danger. I looked up to her as to my

only resource; Yet knowing her to be watched by her Husband with a

suspicious eye, I could place but little reliance on the exertions of

her good-will.

In spite of all my endeavours to conceal it, my agitation was but too

visibly expressed upon my countenance. I was pale, and both my words

and actions were disordered and embarrassed. The young Men observed

this, and enquired the cause. I attributed it to excess of fatigue, and

the violent effect produced on me by the severity of the season.

Whether they believed me or not, I will not pretend to say: They at

least ceased to embarrass me with their questions. I strove to divert

my attention from the perils which surrounded me, by conversing on

different subjects with the Baroness. I talked of Germany, declaring my

intention of visiting it immediately: God knows, that I little thought

at that moment of ever seeing it! She replied to me with great ease and

politeness, professed that the pleasure of making my acquaintance amply

compensated for the delay in her journey, and gave me a pressing

invitation to make some stay at the Castle of Lindenberg. As She spoke

thus, the Youths exchanged a malicious smile, which declared that She

would be fortunate if She ever reached that Castle herself. This action

did not escape me; But I concealed the emotion which it excited in my

breast. I continued to converse with the Lady; But my discourse was so

frequently incoherent, that as She has since informed me, She began to

doubt whether I was in my right senses. The fact was, that while my

conversation turned upon one subject, my thoughts were entirely

occupied by another. I meditated upon the means of quitting the

Cottage, finding my way to the Barn, and giving the Domestics

information of our Host’s designs. I was soon convinced, how

impracticable was the attempt. Jacques and Robert watched my every

movement with an attentive eye, and I was obliged to abandon the idea.

All my hopes now rested upon Claude’s not finding the Banditti: In that

case, according to what I had overheard, we should be permitted to

depart unhurt.

I shuddered involuntarily as Baptiste entered the room. He made many

apologies for his long absence, but “He had been detained by affairs

impossible to be delayed.” He then entreated permission for his family

to sup at the same table with us, without which, respect would not

authorize his taking such a liberty. Oh! how in my heart I cursed the

Hypocrite! How I loathed his presence, who was on the point of

depriving me of an existence, at that time infinitely dear! I had every

reason to be satisfied with life; I had youth, wealth, rank, and

education; and the fairest prospects presented themselves before me. I

saw those prospects on the point of closing in the most horrible

manner: Yet was I obliged to dissimulate, and to receive with a

semblance of gratitude the false civilities of him who held the dagger

to my bosom.

The permission which our Host demanded, was easily obtained. We seated

ourselves at the Table. The Baroness and myself occupied one side: The

Sons were opposite to us with their backs to the door. Baptiste took

his seat by the Baroness at the upper end, and the place next to him

was left for his Wife. She soon entered the room, and placed before us

a plain but comfortable Peasant’s repast. Our Host thought it necessary

to apologize for the poorness of the supper: “He had not been apprized

of our coming; He could only offer us such fare as had been intended

for his own family:”

“But,” added He, “should any accident detain my noble Guests longer

than they at present intend, I hope to give them a better treatment.”

The Villain! I well knew the accident to which He alluded; I shuddered

at the treatment which He taught us to expect!

My Companion in danger seemed entirely to have got rid of her chagrin

at being delayed. She laughed, and conversed with the family with

infinite gaiety. I strove but in vain to follow her example. My spirits

were evidently forced, and the constraint which I put upon myself

escaped not Baptiste’s observation.

“Come, come, Monsieur, cheer up!” said He; “You seem not quite

recovered from your fatigue. To raise your spirits, what say you to a

glass of excellent old wine which was left me by my Father? God rest

his soul, He is in a better world! I seldom produce this wine; But as I

am not honoured with such Guests every day, this is an occasion which

deserves a Bottle.”

He then gave his Wife a Key, and instructed her where to find the wine

of which He spoke. She seemed by no means pleased with the commission;

She took the Key with an embarrassed air, and hesitated to quit the

Table.

“Did you hear me?” said Baptiste in an angry tone.

Marguerite darted upon him a look of mingled anger and fear, and left

the chamber. His eyes followed her suspiciously, till She had closed

the door.

She soon returned with a bottle sealed with yellow wax. She placed it

upon the table, and gave the Key back to her Husband. I suspected that

this liquor was not presented to us without design, and I watched

Marguerite’s movements with inquietude. She was employed in rinsing

some small horn Goblets. As She placed them before Baptiste, She saw

that my eye was fixed upon her; and at the moment when She thought

herself unobserved by the Banditti, She motioned to me with her head

not to taste the liquor, She then resumed her place.

In the mean while our Host had drawn the Cork, and filling two of the

Goblets, offered them to the Lady and myself. She at first made some

objections, but the instances of Baptiste were so urgent, that She was

obliged to comply. Fearing to excite suspicion, I hesitated not to take

the Goblet presented to me. By its smell and colour I guessed it to be

Champagne; But some grains of powder floating upon the top convinced me

that it was not unadulterated. However, I dared not to express my

repugnance to drinking it; I lifted it to my lips, and seemed to be

swallowing it: Suddenly starting from my chair, I made the best of my

way towards a Vase of water at some distance, in which Marguerite had

been rinsing the Goblets. I pretended to spit out the wine with

disgust, and took an opportunity unperceived of emptying the liquor

into the Vase.

The Banditti seemed alarmed at my action. Jacques half rose from his

chair, put his hand into his bosom, and I discovered the haft of a

dagger. I returned to my seat with tranquillity, and affected not to

have observed their confusion.

“You have not suited my taste, honest Friend,” said I, addressing

myself to Baptiste. “I never can drink Champagne without its producing

a violent illness. I swallowed a few mouthfuls ere I was aware of its

quality, and fear that I shall suffer for my imprudence.”

Baptiste and Jacques exchanged looks of distrust.

“Perhaps,” said Robert, “the smell may be disagreeable to you.”

He quitted his chair, and removed the Goblet. I observed, that He

examined, whether it was nearly empty.

“He must have drank sufficient,” said He to his Brother in a low voice,

while He reseated himself.

Marguerite looked apprehensive, that I had tasted the liquor: A glance

from my eye reassured her.

I waited with anxiety for the effects which the Beverage would produce

upon the Lady. I doubted not but the grains which I had observed were

poisonous, and lamented that it had been impossible for me to warn her

of the danger. But a few minutes had elapsed before I perceived her

eyes grow heavy; Her head sank upon her shoulder, and She fell into a

deep sleep. I affected not to attend to this circumstance, and

continued my conversation with Baptiste, with all the outward gaiety in

my power to assume. But He no longer answered me without constraint. He

eyed me with distrust and astonishment, and I saw that the Banditti

were frequently whispering among themselves. My situation became every

moment more painful; I sustained the character of confidence with a

worse grace than ever. Equally afraid of the arrival of their

Accomplices and of their suspecting my knowledge of their designs, I

knew not how to dissipate the distrust which the Banditti evidently

entertained for me. In this new dilemma the friendly Marguerite again

assisted me. She passed behind the Chairs of her Stepsons, stopped for

a moment opposite to me, closed her eyes, and reclined her head upon

her shoulder. This hint immediately dispelled my incertitude. It told

me, that I ought to imitate the Baroness, and pretend that the liquor

had taken its full effect upon me. I did so, and in a few minutes

seemed perfectly overcome with slumber.

“So!” cried Baptiste, as I fell back in my chair; “At last He sleeps! I

began to think that He had scented our design, and that we should have

been forced to dispatch him at all events.”

“And why not dispatch him at all events?” enquired the ferocious

Jacques. “Why leave him the possibility of betraying our secret?

Marguerite, give me one of my Pistols: A single touch of the trigger

will finish him at once.”

“And supposing,” rejoined the Father, “Supposing that our Friends

should not arrive tonight, a pretty figure we should make when the

Servants enquire for him in the Morning! No, no, Jacques; We must wait

for our Associates. If they join us, we are strong enough to dispatch

the Domestics as well as their Masters, and the booty is our own; If

Claude does not find the Troop, we must take patience, and suffer the

prey to slip through our fingers. Ah! Boys, Boys, had you arrived but

five minutes sooner, the Spaniard would have been done for, and two

thousand Pistoles our own. But you are always out of the way when you

are most wanted.

You are the most unlucky Rogues!”

“Well, well, Father!” answered Jacques; “Had you been of my mind, all

would have been over by this time. You, Robert, Claude, and myself, why

the Strangers were but double the number, and I warrant you we might

have mastered them. However, Claude is gone; ’Tis too late to think of

it now. We must wait patiently for the arrival of the Gang; and if the

Travellers escape us tonight, we must take care to waylay them

tomorrow.”

“True! True!” said Baptiste; “Marguerite, have you given the

sleeping-draught to the Waiting-women?”

She replied in the affirmative.

“All then is safe. Come, come, Boys; Whatever falls out, we have no

reason to complain of this adventure. We run no danger, may gain much,

and can lose nothing.”

At this moment I heard a trampling of Horses. Oh! how dreadful was the

sound to my ears. A cold sweat flowed down my forehead, and I felt all

the terrors of impending death. I was by no means reassured by hearing

the compassionate Marguerite exclaim in the accents of despair,

“Almighty God! They are lost!”

Luckily the Wood-man and his Sons were too much occupied by the arrival

of their Associates to attend to me, or the violence of my agitation

would have convinced them that my sleep was feigned.

“Open! Open!” exclaimed several voices on the outside of the Cottage.

“Yes! Yes!” cried Baptiste joyfully; “They are our Friends sure enough!

Now then our booty is certain. Away! Lads, Away! Lead them to the Barn;

You know what is to be done there.”

Robert hastened to open the door of the Cottage.

“But first,” said Jacques, taking up his arms; “first let me dispatch

these Sleepers.”

“No, no, no!” replied his Father; “Go you to the Barn, where your

presence is wanted. Leave me to take care of these and the Women

above.”

Jacques obeyed, and followed his Brother. They seemed to converse with

the New-Comers for a few minutes: After which I heard the Robbers

dismount, and as I conjectured, bend their course towards the Barn.

“So! That is wisely done!” muttered Baptiste; “They have quitted their

Horses, that They may fall upon the Strangers by surprise. Good! Good!

and now to business.”

I heard him approach a small Cupboard which was fixed up in a distant

part of the room, and unlock it. At this moment I felt myself shaken

gently.

“Now! Now!” whispered Marguerite.

I opened my eyes. Baptiste stood with his back towards me. No one else

was in the room save Marguerite and the sleeping Lady. The Villain had

taken a dagger from the Cupboard and seemed examining whether it was

sufficiently sharp. I had neglected to furnish myself with arms; But I

perceived this to be my only chance of escaping, and resolved not to

lose the opportunity. I sprang from my seat, darted suddenly upon

Baptiste, and clasping my hands round his throat, pressed it so

forcibly as to prevent his uttering a single cry. You may remember that

I was remarkable at Salamanca for the power of my arm: It now rendered

me an essential service. Surprised, terrified, and breathless, the

Villain was by no means an equal Antagonist. I threw him upon the

ground; I grasped him still tighter; and while I fixed him without

motion upon the floor, Marguerite, wresting the dagger from his hand,

plunged it repeatedly in his heart till He expired.

No sooner was this horrible but necessary act perpetrated than

Marguerite called on me to follow her.

“Flight is our only refuge!” said She; “Quick! Quick! Away!”

I hesitated not to obey her: but unwilling to leave the Baroness a

victim to the vengeance of the Robbers, I raised her in my arms still

sleeping, and hastened after Marguerite. The Horses of the Banditti

were fastened near the door: My Conductress sprang upon one of them. I

followed her example, placed the Baroness before me, and spurred on my

Horse. Our only hope was to reach Strasbourg, which was much nearer

than the perfidious Claude had assured me. Marguerite was well

acquainted with the road, and galloped on before me. We were obliged to

pass by the Barn, where the Robbers were slaughtering our Domestics.

The door was open: We distinguished the shrieks of the dying and

imprecations of the Murderers! What I felt at that moment language is

unable to describe!

Jacques heard the trampling of our Horses as we rushed by the Barn. He

flew to the Door with a burning Torch in his hand, and easily

recognised the Fugitives.

“Betrayed! Betrayed!” He shouted to his Companions.

Instantly they left their bloody work, and hastened to regain their

Horses. We heard no more. I buried my spurs in the sides of my Courser,

and Marguerite goaded on hers with the poignard, which had already

rendered us such good service. We flew like lightning, and gained the

open plains. Already was Strasbourg’s Steeple in sight, when we heard

the Robbers pursuing us. Marguerite looked back, and distinguished our

followers descending a small Hill at no great distance. It was in vain

that we urged on our Horses; The noise approached nearer with every

moment.

“We are lost!” She exclaimed; “The Villains gain upon us!”

“On! On!” replied I; “I hear the trampling of Horses coming from the

Town.”

We redoubled our exertions, and were soon aware of a numerous band of

Cavaliers, who came towards us at full speed. They were on the point of

passing us.

“Stay! Stay!” shrieked Marguerite; “Save us! For God’s sake, save us!”

The Foremost, who seemed to act as Guide, immediately reined in his

Steed.

“’Tis She! ’Tis She!” exclaimed He, springing upon the ground; “Stop,

my Lord, stop! They are safe! ’Tis my Mother!”

At the same moment Marguerite threw herself from her Horse, clasped him

in her arms, and covered him with Kisses. The other Cavaliers stopped

at the exclamation.

“The Baroness Lindenberg?” cried another of the Strangers eagerly;

“Where is She? Is She not with you?”

He stopped on beholding her lying senseless in my arms. Hastily He

caught her from me. The profound sleep in which She was plunged made

him at first tremble for her life; but the beating of her heart soon

reassured him.

“God be thanked!” said He; “She has escaped unhurt.”

I interrupted his joy by pointing out the Brigands, who continued to

approach. No sooner had I mentioned them than the greatest part of the

Company, which appeared to be chiefly composed of soldiers, hastened

forward to meet them. The Villains stayed not to receive their attack:

Perceiving their danger they turned the heads of their Horses, and fled

into the wood, whither they were followed by our Preservers. In the

mean while the Stranger, whom I guessed to be the Baron Lindenberg,

after thanking me for my care of his Lady, proposed our returning with

all speed to the Town. The Baroness, on whom the effects of the opiate

had not ceased to operate, was placed before him; Marguerite and her

Son remounted their Horses; the Baron’s Domestics followed, and we soon

arrived at the Inn, where He had taken his apartments.

This was at the Austrian Eagle, where my Banker, whom before my

quitting Paris I had apprised of my intention to visit Strasbourg, had

prepared Lodgings for me. I rejoiced at this circumstance. It gave me

an opportunity of cultivating the Baron’s acquaintance, which I foresaw

would be of use to me in Germany. Immediately upon our arrival the Lady

was conveyed to bed; A Physician was sent for, who prescribed a

medicine likely to counteract the effects of the sleepy potion, and

after it had been poured down her throat, She was committed to the care

of the Hostess. The Baron then addressed himself to me, and entreated

me to recount the particulars of this adventure. I complied with his

request instantaneously; for in pain respecting Stephano’s fate, whom I

had been compelled to abandon to the cruelty of the Banditti, I found

it impossible for me to repose, till I had some news of him. I received

but too soon the intelligence, that my trusty Servant had perished. The

Soldiers who had pursued the Brigands returned while I was employed in

relating my adventure to the Baron. By their account I found that the

Robbers had been overtaken: Guilt and true courage are incompatible;

They had thrown themselves at the feet of their Pursuers, had

surrendered themselves without striking a blow, had discovered their

secret retreat, made known their signals by which the rest of the Gang

might be seized, and in short had betrayed ever mark of cowardice and

baseness. By this means the whole of the Band, consisting of near sixty

persons, had been made Prisoners, bound, and conducted to Strasbourg.

Some of the Soldiers hastened to the Cottage, One of the Banditti

serving them as Guide. Their first visit was to the fatal Barn, where

they were fortunate enough to find two of the Baron’s Servants still

alive, though desperately wounded. The rest had expired beneath the

swords of the Robbers, and of these my unhappy Stephano was one.

Alarmed at our escape, the Robbers in their haste to overtake us, had

neglected to visit the Cottage. In consequence, the Soldiers found the

two Waiting-women unhurt, and buried in the same death-like slumber

which had overpowered their Mistress. There was nobody else found in

the Cottage, except a child not above four years old, which the

Soldiers brought away with them. We were busying ourselves with

conjectures respecting the birth of this little unfortunate, when

Marguerite rushed into the room with the Baby in her arms. She fell at

the feet of the Officer who was making us this report, and blessed him

a thousand times for the preservation of her Child.

When the first burst of maternal tenderness was over, I besought her to

declare, by what means She had been united to a Man whose principles

seemed so totally discordant with her own. She bent her eyes downwards,

and wiped a few tears from her cheek.

“Gentlemen,” said She after a silence of some minutes, “I would request

a favour of you: You have a right to know on whom you confer an

obligation. I will not therefore stifle a confession which covers me

with shame; But permit me to comprise it in as few words as possible.

“I was born in Strasbourg of respectable Parents; Their names I must at

present conceal: My Father still lives, and deserves not to be involved

in my infamy; If you grant my request, you shall be informed of my

family name. A Villain made himself Master of my affections, and to

follow him I quitted my Father’s House. Yet though my passions

overpowered my virtue, I sank not into that degeneracy of vice, but too

commonly the lot of Women who make the first false step. I loved my

Seducer; dearly loved him! I was true to his Bed; this Baby, and the

Youth who warned you, my Lord Baron, of your Lady’s danger, are the

pledges of our affection. Even at this moment I lament his loss, though

’tis to him that I owe all the miseries of my existence.

“He was of noble birth, but He had squandered away his paternal

inheritance. His Relations considered him as a disgrace to their name,

and utterly discarded him. His excesses drew upon him the indignation

of the Police. He was obliged to fly from Strasbourg, and saw no other

resource from beggary than an union with the Banditti who infested the

neighbouring Forest, and whose Troop was chiefly composed of Young Men

of family in the same predicament with himself. I was determined not to

forsake him. I followed him to the Cavern of the Brigands, and shared

with him the misery inseparable from a life of pillage. But though I

was aware that our existence was supported by plunder, I knew not all

the horrible circumstances attached to my Lover’s profession. These He

concealed from me with the utmost care; He was conscious that my

sentiments were not sufficiently depraved to look without horror upon

assassination: He supposed, and with justice, that I should fly with

detestation from the embraces of a Murderer. Eight years of possession

had not abated his love for me; and He cautiously removed from my

knowledge every circumstance, which might lead me to suspect the crimes

in which He but too often participated. He succeeded perfectly: It was

not till after my Seducer’s death, that I discovered his hands to have

been stained with the blood of innocence.

“One fatal night He was brought back to the Cavern covered with wounds:

He received them in attacking an English Traveller, whom his Companions

immediately sacrificed to their resentment. He had only time to entreat

my pardon for all the sorrows which He had caused me: He pressed my

hand to his lips, and expired. My grief was inexpressible. As soon as

its violence abated, I resolved to return to Strasbourg, to throw

myself with my two Children at my Father’s feet, and implore his

forgiveness, though I little hoped to obtain it. What was my

consternation when informed that no one entrusted with the secret of

their retreat was ever permitted to quit the troop of the Banditti;

That I must give up all hopes of ever rejoining society, and consent

instantly to accepting one of their Band for my Husband! My prayers and

remonstrances were vain. They cast lots to decide to whose possession I

should fall; I became the property of the infamous Baptiste. A Robber,

who had once been a Monk, pronounced over us a burlesque rather than a

religious Ceremony: I and my Children were delivered into the hands of

my new Husband, and He conveyed us immediately to his home.

“He assured me that He had long entertained for me the most ardent

regard; But that Friendship for my deceased Lover had obliged him to

stifle his desires. He endeavoured to reconcile me to my fate, and for

some time treated me with respect and gentleness: At length finding

that my aversion rather increased than diminished, He obtained those

favours by violence, which I persisted to refuse him. No resource

remained for me but to bear my sorrows with patience; I was conscious

that I deserved them but too well. Flight was forbidden: My Children

were in the power of Baptiste, and He had sworn that if I attempted to

escape, their lives should pay for it. I had had too many opportunities

of witnessing the barbarity of his nature to doubt his fulfilling his

oath to the very letter. Sad experience had convinced me of the horrors

of my situation: My first Lover had carefully concealed them from me;

Baptiste rather rejoiced in opening my eyes to the cruelties of his

profession, and strove to familiarise me with blood and slaughter.

“My nature was licentious and warm, but not cruel: My conduct had been

imprudent, but my heart was not unprincipled. Judge then what I must

have felt at being a continual witness of crimes the most horrible and

revolting! Judge how I must have grieved at being united to a Man who

received the unsuspecting Guest with an air of openness and

hospitality, at the very moment that He meditated his destruction.

Chagrin and discontent preyed upon my constitution: The few charms

bestowed on me by nature withered away, and the dejection of my

countenance denoted the sufferings of my heart. I was tempted a

thousand times to put an end to my existence; But the remembrance of my

Children held my hand. I trembled to leave my dear Boys in my Tyrant’s

power, and trembled yet more for their virtue than their lives. The

Second was still too young to benefit by my instructions; But in the

heart of my Eldest I laboured unceasingly to plant those principles,

which might enable him to avoid the crimes of his Parents. He listened

to me with docility, or rather with eagerness. Even at his early age,

He showed that He was not calculated for the society of Villains; and

the only comfort which I enjoyed among my sorrows, was to witness the

dawning virtues of my Theodore.

“Such was my situation, when the perfidy of Don Alphonso’s postillion

conducted him to the Cottage. His youth, air, and manners interested me

most forcibly in his behalf. The absence of my Husband’s Sons gave me

an opportunity which I had long wished to find, and I resolved to

risque every thing to preserve the Stranger. The vigilance of Baptiste

prevented me from warning Don Alphonso of his danger: I knew that my

betraying the secret would be immediately punished with death; and

however embittered was my life by calamities, I wanted courage to

sacrifice it for the sake of preserving that of another Person. My only

hope rested upon procuring succour from Strasbourg: At this I resolved

to try; and should an opportunity offer of warning Don Alphonso of his

danger unobserved, I was determined to seize it with avidity. By

Baptiste’s orders I went upstairs to make the Stranger’s Bed: I spread

upon it Sheets in which a Traveller had been murdered but a few nights

before, and which still were stained with blood. I hoped that these

marks would not escape the vigilance of our Guest, and that He would

collect from them the designs of my perfidious Husband. Neither was

this the only step which I took to preserve the Stranger. Theodore was

confined to his bed by illness. I stole into his room unobserved by my

Tyrant, communicated to him my project, and He entered into it with

eagerness. He rose in spite of his malady, and dressed himself with all

speed. I fastened one of the Sheets round his arms, and lowered him

from the Window. He flew to the Stable, took Claude’s Horse, and

hastened to Strasbourg. Had He been accosted by the Banditti, He was to

have declared himself sent upon a message by Baptiste, but fortunately

He reached the Town without meeting any obstacle. Immediately upon his

arrival at Strasbourg, He entreated assistance from the Magistrature:

His Story passed from mouth to mouth, and at length came to the

knowledge of my Lord the Baron. Anxious for the safety of his Lady,

whom He knew would be upon the road that Evening, it struck him that

She might have fallen into the power of the Robbers. He accompanied

Theodore who guided the Soldiers towards the Cottage, and arrived just

in time to save us from falling once more into the hands of our

Enemies.”

Here I interrupted Marguerite to enquire why the sleepy potion had been

presented to me. She said that Baptiste supposed me to have arms about

me, and wished to incapacitate me from making resistance: It was a

precaution which He always took, since as the Travellers had no hopes

of escaping, Despair would have incited them to sell their lives

dearly.

The Baron then desired Marguerite to inform him, what were her present

plans. I joined him in declaring my readiness to show my gratitude to

her for the preservation of my life.

“Disgusted with a world,” She replied, “in which I have met with

nothing but misfortunes, my only wish is to retire into a Convent. But

first I must provide for my Children. I find that my Mother is no more,

probably driven to an untimely grave by my desertion! My Father is

still living; He is not an hard Man; Perhaps, Gentlemen, in spite of my

ingratitude and imprudence, your intercessions may induce him to

forgive me, and to take charge of his unfortunate Grand-sons. If you

obtain this boon for me, you will repay my services a thousand-fold!”

Both the Baron and myself assured Marguerite, that we would spare no

pains to obtain her pardon: and that even should her Father be

inflexible, She need be under no apprehensions respecting the fate of

her Children. I engaged myself to provide for Theodore, and the Baron

promised to take the youngest under his protection.

The grateful Mother thanked us with tears for what She called

generosity, but which in fact was no more than a proper sense of our

obligations to her. She then left the room to put her little Boy to

bed, whom fatigue and sleep had compleatly overpowered.

The Baroness, on recovering and being informed from what dangers I had

rescued her, set no bounds to the expressions of her gratitude. She was

joined so warmly by her Husband in pressing me to accompany them to

their Castle in Bavaria, that I found it impossible to resist their

entreaties. During a week which we passed at Strasbourg, the interests

of Marguerite were not forgotten: In our application to her Father we

succeeded as amply as we could wish. The good old Man had lost his

Wife: He had no Children but this unfortunate Daughter, of whom He had

received no news for almost fourteen years. He was surrounded by

distant Relations, who waited with impatience for his decease in order

to get possession of his money. When therefore Marguerite appeared

again so unexpectedly, He considered her as a gift from heaven: He

received her and her Children with open arms, and insisted upon their

establishing themselves in his House without delay. The disappointed

Cousins were obliged to give place. The old Man would not hear of his

Daughter’s retiring into a Convent: He said that She was too necessary

to his happiness, and She was easily persuaded to relinquish her

design. But no persuasions could induce Theodore to give up the plan

which I had at first marked out for him. He had attached himself to me

most sincerely during my stay at Strasbourg; and when I was on the

point of leaving it, He besought me with tears to take him into my

service: He set forth all his little talents in the most favourable

colours, and tried to convince me that I should find him of infinite

use to me upon the road. I was unwilling to charge myself with a Lad

but scarcely turned of thirteen, whom I knew could only be a burthen to

me: However, I could not resist the entreaties of this affectionate

Youth, who in fact possessed a thousand estimable qualities. With some

difficulty He persuaded his relations to let him follow me, and that

permission once obtained, He was dubbed with the title of my Page.

Having passed a week at Strasbourg, Theodore and myself set out for

Bavaria in company with the Baron and his Lady. These Latter as well as

myself had forced Marguerite to accept several presents of value, both

for herself, and her youngest Son: On leaving her, I promised his

Mother faithfully that I would restore Theodore to her within the year.

I have related this adventure at length, Lorenzo, that you might

understand the means by which “The Adventurer, Alphonso d’Alvarada got

introduced into the Castle of Lindenberg.” Judge from this specimen how

much faith should be given to your Aunt’s assertions!