THE Revived Fugitive: A Gallant Historical NOVEL. Dedicated to Her HIGHNESS The DUCHESS of Brunswig, Lunebourg, and Zell.  
LONDON, Printed for R. Bentley, in Russel-Street, in Covent-Garden. 1690.   

TO HER Serene Highness, THE Duchess of Brunswig, Lunebourg, and Zell.  
Madam,  
DIvers PROTESTANTS having sought after Victory through Flight, their Retreat cannot fail of such Adventures as are surprising, and that have very much of the Romantic Air. Those poor people have been assaulted in so many manners, that they are become ingenious in Intrigues, and in finding out unknown Ways, to deceive the subtlety and vigilance of their Persecutors, which might have forced them to serve that which is not God, in its own Nature. This Revived Fugitive's aversion to a strange Worship was very great, those attempts which she has made to prevent her having any share in it, have been as great. She has overcome herself to master those Obstacles, which were opposed to her Liberty, and that Providence which usually gives its blessing to those Cares which we take not to be separated from the true Religion, has governed all the steps which she has made to avoid so sad a separation, and has snatched her more than once out of the jaws of Death, that she might at last secure a Good, which by the Gospel is termed the Good Part, and the sole necessary thing. I address to you, Madam, the Relation of it; with all the respect due to your Merits and Elevation. Divers Reasons ought to make me fear that I may be blamed for taking the liberty to offer you so small a thing, and I ought to have feared to expose myself in so great a Light. But I take Heart, Madam, and I despair not, but that you will look on this small Piece with a favourable Eye, and that you will have so much bounty as to descend to this Revived Fugitive, all neglected as she is. I have cause to believe so, when I represent to myself how great the Love is, and how strong the application, which you have for our Religion; what will not be your joy to see her Triumph in her Person over those terrible Temptations, which Love, and Interest, and the Examples and Solicitations of a Brother have assailed her with: That in her Adventures there has been such extraordinary Circumstances, that are not wholly unworthy of your Highness' Curiosity, and that being of a Province, which the Heavens has honoured with so Illustrious a Birth, as that of your Highness; she does hope that you will not disapprove her Ambition, to treat you with a Dish of your own Country far; she even flatters herself with the thoughts that you will concern yourself in your Country Woman's evil and good fortunes, and that you will be pleased to unweary yourself some moments, in the consideration of those dreadful dangers, with which her Life has been threatened, and of the wonderful manner by which she has been freed from them. May the Heavens, Madam, cover yours with its powerful Protection, and continue plentifully to shower on your Highness its Blessings, and on your Noble Family. These are the Vows which are made with all the Zeal imaginable, by  
MADAM, Your most Serene Highnesses Most Humble, and Most Obedient Servant, P. B.   

THE Revived Fugitive: A NOVEL.  
LOve never did kindle so bright a flame, as that which Madmoiselle of Charlieu did preserve in her heart for the Knight St. Hubert, notwithstanding all the Reasons which she thought to have to drive it from thence, strengthened with that great reservedness which she has always professed. And peradventure, that there was never seen such a tenderness as that of the Knight St. Hubert, for the Charming Madmoiselle of Charlieu. They were both of one Province, but the Knight's inclinations having led him to make his first Campaigns in a very young Age, he had not had time to observe the Beauty of a Person who was then but in her Spring, and in a tender Delineation. Wherefore, it was not till she was at Paris, at the Opera of Phaeton, that he learned that which he had remained ignorant of till then. He was come to Court to solicit for a a vacant Employ at Court, and the Lady's Brother, to follow a Suit in the grand Chamber. That rencontre of Business was to signify something to him, and did prognosticate to his indifferency some considerable Adventures, that made him to lend to the Ornaments of the Theatre but an indifferent attention; and while agreeable Music did possess his Ear, he had no Eyes, but for a young Stranger, who was easy to be distinguished from the rest, by her own Person.  
He had some knowledge of all the Beauties that made a figure at Paris, and the Charms of that new Object obliged him to reproach himself of neglect, not without severe reflections: He enquired of a Gentleman of his acquaintance, Whether that Face was new to him; and because he could not be well informed by him, he flattered himself with the hopes to learn more of her at the going out of the Palace.  
Fortune did favour him in that, for having had her always in view, it luckily happened, to gratify his Curiosity, that a Priest who carried the Sacrament to a sick Person, passing by at that time, she hastily turned back in the Alley, to get to her Coach before the great Gate, where she ordered it should wait for her.  
Those marks of a true right Hugonor, or Protestant, were not capable to divert him from the satisfaction he proposed to inform himself throughly at Charanton, which is the place where those of the Reformed Religion have a Church allowed them. He returned to his Inn, well satisfied with so happy a discovery, and resolved to go thither the very next Day to Church. But it was his ill fortune not to find there what he sought after. The King had not yet caused the Edict to be Proclaimed, which forbids the Hugonots to suffer any Roman Catholics in their Assemblies; and that which might have raised some scruple in the Knight, (who was an absolute worthy Person) could not yet produce any in him. He remained in the Church very quiet during the whole Sermon, which that Day was delivered by an eminent Preacher; and he being not a Romanist by mere stubbornness and Caprichio, he found nothing in it that was either horrid or black.  
This first quest having succeeded so ill, he thought to have mistaken himself in his judgement, and he began to attribute to hazard and mere chance that fear which his pretended Religionary had been put in the Day before. He returned to Paris in a greater disorder than ever, and almost dead with desire of retrieving so delicate a Beauty. He run over all the choicest parts of the City in hopes to find her; he often walked in the Tuilleries, and in that odd kind of uneasiness, he would know, at what rate so ever, the Name and Birth of so rare an Object. One Day that the Wether was very fair, and that he was seriously thinking in the most remote part of the Labyrinth on the oddness of his Stars, he heard his own Name mentioned very near to him. I confess, said a Lady to a friend of hers, that Monsieur of St. Hubert is brave, that he has a great deal of sense and discernment, with all that can be required besides to nicely carry on an Intrigue; there is something in his Air which Charms at first sight; and I no sooner had seen him, but I distinguished him from the Crowd; but my dear Child, he is a Man, and doubtless that he is as apt as others to run into those defects so incident to Men of sense; I mean Levity and Indiscretion. This Discourse being expressed after a very tender Manner, had rendered him extremely attentive, and peradventure he might have drawn some light from thence, if the coming of two other Ladies into that Walk, where he stood before unseen, had not disturbed the others Conversation who sought out a more retired place, leaving that Post so advantageous to our Knight.  
He, not to lose any time, did all he could to rejoin them immediately, and having slided along the Walks, he at last got to the appointed place, but all did disappear, and with much to do he gathered up a Billet half covered over with Leaves; he knew not whether he had best to read it immediately, and his great desire to follow the Ladies had hindered him from it, if by chance he had not seen in it the word Love writ in a large Character. This Onset is too fair not to peruse the rest, said he presently to himself; then having laid it quite open, he found in it what follows.  

BILLET.  
LOve affords me less quiet than ever, Madam, and I hearty wish that in granting me the one, you were pleased to afford me the other also. I thought that Lovers were not made to suffer Eternally, or at least, that something was to be born of them, yet I find quite the contrary in adoring you; you are still the same, as well as your Charms; and if after you have let me know I was not wholly indifferent to you, you still treat me as an Enemy, I shall doubtless destroy myself.  
There needed not so much to render our Knight a Philosopher, and to lead him into serious. Reflections; but he believed it a point of Prudence, and a concern to his quiet, first to know those Ladies who had named him, and who probably had lost the Billet. He run to the most frequented Avenue, and his surprise was somewhat great, to see departed from thence that Person whom he sought in all places, accompanied with another Lady; he presently imagined that it was they who had named him, and burning with a vehement desire to speak to them, he was drawing near with that Design, when they put on their Masks, and got into a Neighbouring Walk. He therefore was contented with simply observing them; and being joined by a Friend, he thought he might without any more ado go and rest himself on a Bench, with him, of which the Ladies had already made Choice. There were others also sitting there, and every body being very particular, his Curiosity inspired him to go and give a Servant Orders who waited for him at the Garden Gate, to be in readiness to follow that Coach which he should show him, and to give him a faithful account of it.  
He was scarce got out, when a little Footboy, having enquired of his Chair-men, whether that was Monsieur of St. Hubert, did hastily deliver him a Letter, of which it had been said, That He himself should bring back the Answer. He presently imagined it to be one of those obscene Billets with which Debauched Women are wont to Regale Persons by little express Messages; and having cast it on the Ground, he was making an end to order his Man what he had to do, when the unknown Lady came, got into her Coach, and steered her Course towards the Red-Bridge.  
The Knight having made a sign to his Man, he ran as fast as he could after it, so that the hopes to learn before Night, where dwelled that Beautiful Person; having given him time to reflect on what he had lately done, he sought again after his Billet, vexed that he had not read it; and by good fortune having found it again in the same place where he had thrown it, he passed his time in the perusal of it, expecting his Spies return.  
Judging by what it contained, that it was an Answer to that which he had found in the Labyrinth, he was in so great an amazement that he had much to do to get out of it. He was informed that the Lady loved passionately the Gentleman for whom it was designed, and at the same time fancying that it was his fair unknown Creature, who apparently was pierced with a violent Love for some other, he conceived thereat an unexpressible trouble; The Mistake was too evident to draw any Consequences from thence to his advantage; he did not know her, he had never spoken to her, far from having any Intrigue with her, and the Error was but too visible to be mistaken in it.  
Mean time he was bemoaning his Destiny, and in his Complaint he thought on his Adventure with so much application, that three Officers came up to him which he did not perceive. You ponder a little too much in Public, our dear Kinsman, said one of the three to him, who was effectually of the same Family; and if you were in humour to come to— to dissipate, at the favour of a little Debauch, that Melancholy which overcomes you, we should all be obliged to you for it. 'Lass! poor Man! said another, doubtless some Angel has appeared to him in the Garden, which has ravished him into an Ecstasy; and, if I mistake not, added the third, he has met there with Rue and Parslee. Courage Knight, said they all three to him at once, he is now in his Noviciate of Love, he is now a right Knight, a Knight in all the forms, and without Circumspection, farewell to all Pleasures, and to all the Philles'. These Compliments did somewhat amaze him, being partly got out of it, he disguised as well as he could the troubles of his Mind. You are too gay by half, answered he, smiling, and if you had businesses at Law, you would not so frequently think of running over all the best Treaters of Paris; go your ways you idle Fellows, continued he, one small grain of folly would not do amiss, to render you a little wiser, and more moderate; you are Horace's, and mere Slaves to your passions! upon this, they endeavoured to take him along with them, and all his resistance had been in vain, if he had not thought on a come off which succeeded to his mind.  
These troublesome Men being gone at last, he plunged himself more deeply than ever in the examination of the two Billets; and having easily rectified them by comparing, he absolutely concluded that there was some reciprocal Love, and that he should do very ill to dive any further in that Mystery. But who knows not, that it is the weakness of the Bravest Souls, to cleave to all that appears the most difficult to perform; and the more trouble there is to overcome, the more Glorious seems to them the Achievement. This Person made it a point of Honour to push this Adventure to the end, and to give himself up to the government of his good or ill Star; he once more read the last Billet, which was writ in the following terms.   

BILLET.  
I Had foreseen that you would make me some Reproaches, and I might have prepared beforehand this Answer for you. I know your ways, and if I mistake not, you pretend to act Soldierlike every where; but learn, that there is a vast difference betwixt to Love, and to Fight, and that a Lover can never Triumph, but in his Defeat. This is a Lesson of which you may profit, if it is not your own fault. Farewell.  
Ha! most charming unknown Person, cried he to himself at this conclusion, what Dispositions should I find in myself to obey you? and with what joy should I become your Scholar? But you already love, and I cannot complain that love has imprinted such extraordinary charms. While he was thus Philosophising on that Constellation, his Man, quite out of breath, came to give him an account at large of his Commission? He told him, that he knew positively where that Person dwelled whom he had followed, That it was a Royal Palace, abounding in Servants, and that he would conduct him to't when he pleased.  
This Relation ended, he would not defer going thither; his Chairman followed his Servant, and great was his surprise to see himself carried to the Palace of Mars, whose Attendants 'tis likely his Man had taken for Livery-men: He was ready to correct him for his gross mistake; and if the small stay which he had made in Paris, having been but one week in that City, had not excused him, he had at that very moment made trial of the effect of his ill humour; yet he resolved to see there that Person which caused him so much trouble.  
Nor had he failed so to do, if that the same Curiosity which had drawn her to behold that stately Structure, had not invited her to go elsewhere to do the like also. He was forced to rest satisfied as well as he could; and Monsieur of Lovis being but just alighted there from Meudon, to visit according to his custom that House, all whose Inhabitants consider him as their Patron; he left off his pursuit, to mention his business to him, and the opportunity being so favourable, he received from him such an answer as he could wish for, with Orders to go to Versailles in few days.  
This beginning of Love having thus given place to his Ambition, he was punctual to observe his Directions, and he received his brief with such ease as is rare to be found with such Great Ministers of State: who to support himself against that envy which is inseparable from his place, seeks but after little other protection, than that which he finds in his Master's good will and favour. He gained by so generous a proceeding, St. Hubert's whole esteem, who had no other regret to see him in so great an elevation, but because it left him without the power to express his acknowledgements to him for the same.  
Of truth he is naturally acknowledging, and that which frequently causes Men to pass from Love, to indifferency, does on the contrary, more strongly kindle in him the heat of his passion. Wherefore he has never given that way any cause of Complaint, and it may be said, that he perfectly knows the Art of Love without that of feigning. That Journey which had acquired him a considerable Employ, had not however quite settled his mind, he had thought himself unhappy to go for Nancy, where his Orders required him to be, without having spoken to her whose Orders had been yet more precious to him.  
He was returning in his usual dumps, and was already crossing the Wood of Beulogne, when he found himself stopped by two or three confused Voices, mixed with some break forth of Laughter, which seemed to come from the thickest part of that Forest, and by a Picture-Case which he perceived to sparkle in the Mudd, he presently alighted, and having taken it up with some haste, he was extremely surprised at the opening of it, to find the Copy of that Person, whose Original he sought after in all places. He reckoned much on that rencontre, and believing there would be no hurt in drawing near to that place whence the noise came, he commanded his people to wait for him.  
He had not made many steps, but he perceived the Viscount St. Hubert his Cousin, with some Ladies, which for having been overturned in the Dirt, thought they had a great cause of laughter, that their fall had not been accompanied with any sinister Accident, and that they were quit of it, for having given as they fell some kisses to the Viscount. Mean time their Coach being broke, it had been sent back to Paris, and they expected another in that part of the Forest. He then did soon judge that the Picture had been lost by that accident, and not believing himself obliged to mention it so soon, he offered to that fair Company his Coach, to go to Versailles, where he also resolved to return. The Ladies did long refuse his offer; and had not the Viscount laboured to make them accept of it, he had been entirely refused.  
There were four convenient places in it he convinced them that he could dispose of his Kinsman, and that it would be ridiculous not to improve his offers; whereupon they having seated themselves, they continued their way. This diversion had been concluded on two days before with those two Ladies, who had dexterously engaged St. Hubert to accompany them, not but that he had very pressing business in Town, where a Mistress' nicety did oblige him to observe very exact measures. But being naturally very officious, and they very intimate with him, he had imposed upon himself to be of that Match. They were going to give a Visit to a Marchioness, which was to last some days. Some days, replied the Knight to his Kinsman's ear, so soon as he heard it, some days at Versailles: faith, Viscount, I fancy thou wilt have but an ill time of it, and if I am not mistaken, Paris would divert thee much better than Versailles. The Court has somewhat of bustle in it, continued he aloud, in a foppish tone, which frequently makes solitude to be preferred to all its Charms; so many Circumstances of cautiousness and exactness are uneasy; and for my part, I never go, but when I think I have some business there.  
Upon this the Ladies discoursed on the pleasures of the Court, and of the Country, not giving St. Hubert any time to answer, who was almost dead with desire to have the Knight clear his Riddle; and those Discourses having put him in mind of a Present which he had lately received, he put his hand to his Pocket, and having not found there what he sought after, he two or three times changed Countenance. It was a Bracelet of his Mistress' hair, which he had obtained after divers instances, the loss of which, did grieve him mortally.  
He presently fancied that it might have fallen out at that place where they had overturned, and not being able to disguise his uneasiness, he got out of the Coach so soon as they were at their Journeys end, to send People to make an exact search after it. The Knight who had taken notice of that Concern, believed that it was on the account of the Picture, and taking delight to leave in some trouble a Person whom he thought too happy, he took no notice of what he had taken up: he said to himself, that he might well keep for some time the Copy of so Charming an Original, whose first sight had so violently disturbed him. Those disorders continued not long, the presence of the Ladies did at least impose some Constraint on them; and feigning on all hands very cunningly, they got to an Inn to rest themselves, cackled more than ever, and at last conducted the Gentlemen to the young Marchionesses Lodgings.  
They were no less surprised the one than the other in approaching that Lady; they Saluted her, and the Viscount seeming not to know her, was resolved to remain serious, if the two others could have forborn to Laugh. In this intricacy, the Knight thought there was some Enchantment; and, not knowing what to think of such an unexpected Rencounter, was in the greatest amazement imaginable, to find that Stranger who had caused him so much trouble in the Person of the Marchioness. He drew near to a Window to clear the business the more; and distrusting his own Eyes, he drew the Picture out of his Pocket, where he observed the same Face, though the Painter had flattered never so little.  
While they were jesting with the Viscount on the frolic his Mistress had put upon him, in causing him to make her a Visit in a place, whence she was believed far distant, he had time to recollect himself from the disorder that surprise had put him in; and contenting himself with storming against his ill Fortune, he at last appeared less discountenanced than any. Mean time, he returned a Thousand Thanks to the Company, for the advantageous Cheat had been put upon him; and all transported with joy, as he was, he lost himself in the the young Marchioness' Looks, and in the marks of so particular a favour. The Knight's presence did somewhat restrain her fancy on that Article, and though her Lover frequently repeated that he was not to be suspected, she judged it convenient not to admit the Viscount to the height of Courtship, and turning the Conversation, on what had happened to them on the Road, she then gave clearly to understand that all had been done by her Command, that she might have time to get first to Versailles, which gave the Count occasion to say the pleasantest things in the World on innocent malice.  
Yet would the loss of his Bracelet come by fits into his Mind, and the Knight, who omitted not to observe the least alteration in his Face, did secretly applaud himself on his happy meeting with the Picture. This joy set him in a very gay Humour, and having drawn near to the beautiful Marchioness, he said so many ingenious and gallant things to her, that the two others were disturbed at it. He spoke to them in their turn also, and for the first Acquaintance, he had made a very fair Progress.  
This was about the time that a Ballet was to be Danced at Court; the Court was to be very Magnificent, and those Rejoices which were but the Preludes to the Carousel, of which so much has been said, having lasted some Days to divert some strange Ambassadors, it retained our Troop there a whole Week also, after which they returned to Paris. Mean time, the Viscount had had no News of his Bracelet, and the Knight had always in his Mind the advantage which he had over his Love. Yet at last his Generosity prevailing over his Interest, he resolved to Sacrifice himself to his Cousin's quiet: He struggled long before he overcame, and taking a firm Resolution to go and clear that Point with him, he would not defer it one moment longer, for fear of relapsing into his former weakness. He gave him an account in few words of all his whole Adventure, those of the Billets and of the Picture; which he presented to him. He assured him, that having been so happy as to obtain from Monsieur de Louvois, what he desired, he had no further thoughts but to return presently, to that place where his Order engaged him to repair, and that he desired nothing from him but to render himself Depositary of a Compliment for his Mistress, in the fear that a second sight might inspire him with new designs. The Viscount ravished with this Generosity, without Example, did hastily embrace him, and observing by his Eyes that he spoke in good earnest, they both so mollified their Bosoms, that they had much to do to avoid shedding of Tears. They gave to each other a Thousand assurances of Friendship; and if the Viscount had so far been Master of his Mistress' Heart, as to dispose of it in favour of another, he had endeavoured to have yielded it to him. He afterwards took the Two Billets, the one of his, the other of his Mistress' Hand, the Porter having doubtless mistaken, through the conformity of Names, and the Rencounter, seeing the other had passed but a moment before by the same place, when he had pressed him to be of their little Debauch: As to the Picture, he confessed 'twas none of his, but it extremely resembling his Mistress, he so pressed the Knight to go a long with him to clear the business with her, that at last he resolved to do it.  
They found her in a very neat Dress, though negligent; and it was easy to be observed, that if dressing became her, she also did very much set off her Dress by her own Lustre, by her Air, and by her Shape. She looked on the Picture with amazement, and made answer when they would have made it pass for hers, that it never had been so; that furthermore she knew herself so well, that she would never have resigned it into the hands of any Person capable of so great a neglect. Those last Words were Reproaches to the Viscount, who could not forget the loss he had made; he was sensibly moved at it; and if his Billet had not given him occasion to convince her of a carelessness, of which he himself was but too guilty, he had not deferred his own punishment, he resolved however not to mention any thing of it to her; and the Knight being fallen into a Conversation, in order to explain some things of the Opera, the Labyrinth, and the Hospital, he then complained of the loss of the Billet, and expressed a Resentment, in which his Conscience was not in the least concerned. She got out of that business, with a look that pierced him to the very Soul, and which gave him to understand more than any thing else, that her tenderness had not the least share in that accident. That was therefore an absolute Command to be silent, nether did the Knight know what to say, when she declared that the Opera, and the Hospital of Mars, had no part in her story: That of truth she had been at the Tuilleries that Day he mentioned; and that as to the other circumstances, of having put on her Mask, and retired in another unfrequented Walk to rest herself, all that was new to her. That was expressed in such an affirmative accent, that he knew not what to imagine. He steadfastly beheld her without speaking; and the more he looked on her, the more he confirmed himself in his Error. Finally, he was quite undeceived by assured Circumstances, and what passed at first in his Mind as a great truth, appeared to him at last but as a mere illusion. He knew not what to conjecture of that Face, that was so resembling that of this Marchioness, he five or six times felt his own Pulse, to know whether he was not in a Fever; or at least, whether he was not turned Visionarist: And for fear of turning Wizard at Paris, he resolved to go out of it the next Day, with his Picture, which he began to find a Thousand times more real than the Person which it represented.  
He instantly took his leave of those Two Lovers; and having gone towards Night to his Kinsman to bid him farewel, he found him in the resolution to accompany him in his Journey. The design which had been framed on Luxembourg, had obliged every Officer to repair to his Post against the 15th. of September. That obliged the Viscount to quit his Mistress, to join his Regiment that was at Metz; he put back their Journey for Three Days, to bestow them wholly on his Mistress; after which, they both took Post in the great Road to Strasburg.  
Every one is sufficiently informed of the first Bombarding of that Town; Monsieur the Marshal of Crequi, having been obliged, because of the cold Wether, to put off that Enterprise till the next Spring; mean time, possessing all the Posts which cut off all Communications, and formed the Blockado, the Troops retired into their Winter Quarters, and the Viscount finding himself at liberty to return to his Amours, or rather to conclude his Marriage with the Marchioness, who had frequently writ to him; he received one the Night before his setting forth, which overcame him with grief. We have already said, that she was very nice, and that quality, which she derived more from a strong Passion, than any other Principle, had made her to draw consequences which were prejudiciable to her Lover. This is what she expressed of them.   

BILLET.  
I Was already convinced of the levity of Men in General; but I believed at least that it was not without exception, and that I might trust your fidelity. Mean time you have deceived me, and the only comfort that I have left, is, that I never was but half so. My weakness did not proceed without Reflections, and I no longer doubt, after your treachery, that distrust is the sole preservation of our Sex. Adieu.  
Thrice did he read over the same Words, to find out a sense contrary to the true one; he as oft examined himself without apprehending whence so sudden an effect should proceed; and sometimes believing himself guilty, then anon again innocent, he fell into a dumps, out of which he had much ado to retrieve himself. All this while his Love reproached him nothing, he found nothing in his past conduct that Condemned him; but according to that Maxim, that will have the Lover to be always in the wrong, he at last concluded, that his Mistress had all the right imaginable. He was to go justify himself without delay. Scarce did he give himself time sufficient to go and embrace his Kinsman, and to declare to him the necessity of that precipitation.  
This had wished to have returned along with him, and nothing had prevented him, had not a Family concern, which required his presence, called him home. He instantly went thither, and finding himself obliged to pass there part of the Winter, he no longer thought of Paris but with sighs. He had a certain grief at it, which discovering itself sufficiently on his face, did oblige him to seek after a thousand occasions to dissipate it.  
He frequently went to Hunt, to which the moderate Climate of his Province did much contribute: he made matches of Divertisements with his whole Neighbourhood, and thus endeavoured to recompense himself in the Country, of those pleasures which he lost there. A Protestant Gentleman, named Chanlieu, was one of his first acquaintances; he was very agreeable, and the Charms of a Sister of St. Hubert drawing him frequently thither, he found with him wherewith to pass his time. It is true, that Madmoiselle of St. Hubert, taking delight to hear him, had consequently the greatest share in his Visits; but after all, the Knight had some share in them also: and having taken some of those visits on his own account, he thought himself obliged to return them him. He therefore went to visit Chanlisu in his Estate, and having declared that he designed to remain three days with him, the first had no other thoughts but to divert him by all manner of means.  
Chance did furnish him with one which he could not otherwise expect; he learned that St. Hubert did passionately love Music, and that he might be regaled by the Ears, as well as by the Eyes. He writ to a friend of his in the next Town, to engage a Select number of Choice Persons, which delighted in Consorts, to come to his House, with all those Instruments they usually employed with their Voice. Chanlieu was a friend tr every body, and his friend needed not to use much Entreaties to get their Consent: He gave notice of it to Madmoiselle of Chanlieu, who had been two days in that Town, and having told her that her Brother designed to give an Opera to Monsieur of St. Hubert, she resolved to be of the Match, and to agreeably surprise them that way. Madmoiselle of Chanlieu who took no notice that mention had been made of Monsieur, and not of Madmoiselle St. Hubert, did really believe that it was she that had come to visit her; and on the pressing solicitations of St. Sauveur, so was that friened named, who was a Gentleman of the Protestant Religion, she no longer deferred to go join them. Notice was sent to Monsieur Chanlieu, that he should have cause to be satisfied, and that his Coach would be expected. Mean time they employed their thoughts about what Persons they should represent; and having all met at the Rendezvous, they were placed at the end of the Hall; where the form of an Alcove seemed to represent a kind of Theatre; at both ends of which, had been suspended two large Sconces, garnished with Tapers.  
Chanlieu, which above all did wish his Mistress to partake of this Regalia, had engaged the Knight to write to her; so that having them both at his House, he insensibly conducted them to the designed place: after which, the sign being given, the Candles were instantly lighted, all the Instruments began a prelude, very agreeably maintained, and the Opera followed with great applause. The Actors outdid themselves in this Occasion; but all overcame St. Hubert, when he perceived there that face, who had so deeply wounded him at the Opera of Phaeton. His surprise was great at the first sight of so agreeable a Company; but he believed himself in an Enchanted place, when he beheld there that Person, who began to pass for an Enchantress in his thoughts. He drew near to his Sister to inform himself more particularly of it, when she left the rest of her Company to come and embrace her, yet some small tincture coloured her face more than ordinary, at the sight of the Knight, who taking no further notice for the present, showed his respects to her.  
That friendship which he perceived so great betwixt those two Persons, filled him immediately with joy and pleasure; he took his time to approach her, and the Consort having changed into a kind of Ball, he made her a thousand excuses for not having known her sooner. He told her, after a gallant manner, that neither his heart nor his eyes had any thing to reproach him with on that account, that she distinguished herself too much to be deceived, and that no person could behold her face, without perceiving divers admirable things. He after that did invite her to Dance, and it so falling out according to order, that he was to give her the preference in all respects; he still entertained her most agreeably, he ingenuously turned his Discourse on the stay she had made at Paris; and no longer fearing to be deceived, he felt within him a joy that cannot be expressed. He thought there was something so singular in his Adventures, that he was wrapped up in admiration of them, as well as the Beauty that had produced them; and abandoning himself blindly to his fate, an ardent passion took possession of his mind; his eyes did no longer belie his heart, and running over his mistake, he reproached himself a thousand times for having set up the Marchioness in her place in his mind, and for not having observed all that difference which he was sensible of at present. The truth is, they were extreme like one another, and that a little more of youth, and softness of features, made all the difference.  
Mean time abundance of things were in agitation in the bosom of St. Sauveur, he had long since observed that Madmoiselle of Chanlieu was the loveliest Person in the World, but he had never had any thoughts to love her; he lived with her as with a friend, for whom he had a great esteem and friendship, without any further Consequences, and it was in this Company that he first found agreat alteration in his heart. It continually set before his eyes that Object with all its Charms, and his mind being flattered at the beginning, he took in large draughts of a most dangerous Poison.  
Though he was not altogether of so great a Quality as was Madmoiselle of Chanlieu, yet he had sufficiency of Birth, Wit, and Means, to aspire to her Conquest; besides that, being both of one Religion, he believed that sufficient to overcome all Obstacles. He was naturally very undertaking, so that in hopes to easily make her pass from friendship to Love, he readily embarked himself, and resolved to take just measures. On the contrary, the Knight was timid, and consequently had had but little rest since his return home; he would frame to himself strange Monsters to overcome, and if he had been able, he had divested himself of a passion, which was to cost him his whole quiet.  
Alas! what a difficult thing it is to vanquish one's self when one Loves much, and how little signifies a greatness of Soul against the power of a violent passion? all his struggle were useless, and Madmoiselle of St. Hubert having observed a great Change in his Person, she was forced to press him very hard, to get from him an acknowledgement of his weakness; No Sister, said he to her, Love shall not long be my Master, I'll be gone to morrow, and Madmoiselle of Chanlieu's Charms shall not have leisure to reason on their Victory, after their Triumph over me: Ah! thou beautiful Huguenot, how Catholic are thy Charms, and your Person little agreeing with what is told us of your Religion? he had proceeded in his Complaints, had not his Sister made a full stop there, to reason on his passion: She loved Chanlieu, and she having the same difficulties to Combat in her turn, she represented to her Brother, that he too much magnified the Objects, and that those difficulties that appeared so great to him, were not however Unconquerable: that she had formerly much reasoned within herself on such a like matter, and that she had found in it more of fear, than of danger.  
Let a Lover say what he will, he loves still to be flattered, and he cannot be healed, without causing some sorrow to him. The Knight thought himself obliged to her for this Discourse, and gave her such acknowledgements of it, as he appeared not Master of; she on her part had great dispositions to serve him, her interest was visibly engaged in it, so that she was not to deliberate: she made to her Brother as ingenious a Confession as he had done to her, and acknowledging to him her weakness for Monsieur of Chanlieu, who after a long assiduousness, had lighted on the key of her heart: They agreed to act jointly in that business, for both their advantages.  
St. Hubert did frequently go to Chanlieu's, and the Marquis of Chanlieu as frequently to the Knight St. Hubert's: those frequent Visits did give some opportunities to this last to express by his looks what passed in his heart, and his Courtship was always accompanied with so Eloquent a languishment, that it was not difficult to observe it. He one day told Madmoiselle of Chanlieu how dear the first sight of her had cost his Curiosity, with how much earnestness he had sought after her; his Journey to Versailles, his mistake in another Lady that so much resembled her, and the finding of the Picture. While he was relating these things, his Eyes were fixed upon her, and learning from her delicate mouth some particulars which assisted him to unravel those Mysteries, he pulled the Picture out of his Pocket to compare it with the Original.  
She than told him, That before she left Paris she thought to make use of that opportunty to have that Picture drawn, and that having lost it going to Versailles, he whom she had sent to seek for it where it had been lost, had there found a Hair-Bracelet garnished with two Lockets, on which some Ciphers had been set with small Diamonds. He cleared further that accident also, and she insisting to have the Picture returned to her in restoring the Bracelet, he was forced to call in Chanlieu to be judge betwixt them, who condemned his Sister, & represented to her, That she hazarded nothing in leaving in his hands a thing which mear chance had justly bestowed on him: He also advised, that the Bracelet should be sent to the Viscount, that he should have restitution made him of a thing of so great value.  
St. Sauveur came just to be a witness to that business; he envied the Knight's happiness, and did extend himself through the means of the Copy so largely on the Original, that she was obliged to say, She should take it kindly if they would spare her Modesty. He was come full of great Designs, no less than to declare his Passion to her: St. Hubert's assiduousness had of late given him some perplexity; his love did advise him to prevent so dangerous a Rival, wherefore it was with great regret that he was obliged to put off his design to another time.  
Love leads Persons into strange Speculations, and frequently discovers to amorous Eyes that which would still remain concealed to indifferent ones. St. Sauveur had never discovered the Knight's love, if he had not burnt in the same flame; and though his good hopes had lulled him asleep, he having studdyed the Lover's Politics, it of a sudden filled him with apprehensions, so that he would no longer build on the small hopes of a Catholic Rivals success in such a concern. He knew that Love was of all Religions, and that that I know not what, which is produced by a concealed Sympathy, was not always to be restrained by an antipathy of Belief and of Faith: The person concerned had moreover Qualities capable to overcome all sorts of Considerations, and he was no less to be feared by his intricate and subtle Wit, than by his Bravery and by his good Mien. There was nothing but his departure for the Army that caused him to rejoice; for at that time the Protestant Officers having been disgusted, St. Sauveur had quitted his Employ the last Campaign, and the Knight was obliged to render himself at his, within the space of six Weeks.  
Wherefore he foreknowing that ill fate, he managed as well as he could all his moments to the best advantage for his Love, and lost none of those in which he could in anywise promote his Love's interest. He discovered to Chanlieu all that he felt for his Sister. He implored his assistance, and assured him, That he would be very sensible of all his good Offices, and they both running the same Fortune, it was no hard thing for him to make him his. They swore to one another an eternal Friendship, and being parted, the Knight returned to his Sister, and gave her many thanks. He conjured her to believe, that he was sensible of her kindness to the height he ought to be, and he would give her some particular marks of it all his life time; He gave her to understand, That it could be but through her means he should be happy, and that Mademoiselle of Chanlieu loving most tenderly her Brother, she might easily entertain him in those favourable Dispositions which he had for him.  
This proceeding being no new thing to her, he had cause to be contented with the Answer which she made him, and to give him some more essential Proofs of it; she feigned a small Indisposition to obtain a Visit from that Lady her dear Friend. The Knight advertised of this, took care to make her a gallant and magnificent Reception; and his inclination agreeing wonderfully with his love, it may be concluded, that nothing was omitted; and that he procured her all the Divertisements which the season would then afford. He appeared very earnest to express to her his Joys, and Mademoiselle of Chanlieu, who had already perceived his Designs without her Brother's assistance, did not appear more reserved than usually; She politicly believed, that that ought not to diminish her usual gaiety, and that a Lover ought to understand himself in his Conjectures. On his part, he had much to do to prevent his Passion from breaking forth with too much violence, and he felt a redoubling of the Fit by such new Charms that he had not perceived before.  
St. Sauveur who had subtly introduced himself in that Visit, was wonderfully grieved at it; he was of late become the Argus and Spy of all their Actions, and finding but too much cause to fear and to alarm himself, he lost the best part of his gay Humour; not but that he had a particular Empire over himself to disguise what passed in the bottom of his Heart; but let one dissemble never so much, it is ever certain, that Tenderness will always manifest itself in spite of all our greatest caution, and the most subtle Person, when once grown jealous, cannot long constrain himself. He was played upon on the account of his ill Humour, and St. Hubert mistrusting nothing of the truth, did attribute to his Temper that which proceeded from quite another thing. Mean time he performed his Duties with great earnestness, and his Sister acting mutually with him, Mademoiselle of Chanlieu did continually meet with some Diversion. So many things gave her to apprehend, what she ought to think of the Knight's looks; she had found a great stock of Virtue and Honesty in his Person, she knew his Merit; but through all those rare Qualities, her budding Love did affright her, and caused her to distrust herself. For tho' amongst Persons of Quality, Religion is no obstacle to the strictest Ties, in these latter times she found a great cause of apprehension; and though Reason seemed to advise her to be inflexible in that case, she found not strength enough in herself to warrant her love and her weakness; mean time she thought that it were prudence in her to avoid the danger: She hastened her return one day the sooner, and took her leave of her Friend, accompanied with Tears.  
But all those Flights were useless; Love followed her steps, and her Sentiments for the Knight were by half too favourable to her mind: There arose a Conflict in her Heart, of which the Success was very uncertain, and Victory waving a long time, nothing was absolutely decided; She would willingly have cured herself to the hazard of her own Quiet, and to that purpose having cast her Eyes on St. Sauveur, she an hundred times resolved to receive him kindly, and as often the Knight's Idea would appear and interpose in her Designs.  
In the midst of these her Irresolutions, she had but little rest; and not knowing which party to take, she resigned the care of her Heart to its own destiny. St. Sauveur who had no time to lose, having been to see her at her own House some days after her return, had fitted himself with a Billet, to get some foreknowledge of his Fate, and Chanlieu having taken upon him to dextrously convey one from St. Hubert, he had given him these following Verses.  

Love is not such a Tyrant as some say,  
When they think he destroys, he does but play;  
By the late good ' has done me, I do find  
He's rather to be courted than deelined.  
If e'er from him I received any Harms,  
'Twas in the absence of Selinda 's Charms,  
After he had with her Picture so fired  
My panting Heart, that nothing I desired  
But to behold th' Original. In vain  
Of my fruitless Inquest I did complain.  
Without success I sought her far and near,  
The more I sought, the more increased my fear  
Of losing hopes and labour; till at last  
One moment recompensed my Torments past:  
No sooner did I once again behold  
That charming Creature, but my Hope grew bold;  
I quite forgot all the troubles and smart  
Her sight and absence had caused in my Heart.  
The Pleasures I received at this review,  
In some few moments did my Life renew.  
If Love alone opposed my Heart's Desires,  
And was the only thing did damp my Fires,  
All the Care, Pains and Sighs, that he could cause,  
I should not value to gain her Applause:  
Our differing in Worship 'tis does prove  
More fatal to my Vows than gentle Love;  
But now Religion to my Love must yield,  
It shall ride Conqueror and win the Field.  
To my Confessors I now bid adieu.  
I'll constantly adore divine C—   
Mademoiselle of Chanlieu's Name did so justly fall in the end of the last Verse, and St. Hubert's Passion was so lively set forth in the whole piece, that it had been left thus imperfect for fear of vexing her; for it had not been difficult to know herself in it at first sight, besides, his Eyes and Actions had already been very powerful Interpreters: But an odd Accident suspended the reading of them for that time. St. Sauveur whom love had conducted thither early that morning, and had perceived that when Chanlieu delivered them to his Sister, he had told her, they proceeded from the Pen of one of his most intimate Friends, thought that he might improve the opportunity: He observed where she laid them, to peruse them when alone; He put in their place a Declaration of Love thus worded.   

BILLET by way of Declaration.  
I Had formerly the honour to be in the number of your Friends, Madam, and I should always have remained in that Calmness I enjoyed, had not Love at last made me know the difference there is betwixt it and Friendship. I tremble yet at this Confession, and I find myself but too much disposed to behold you after a manner which cannot well be expressed.  
Madamoiselle of Chanlieu having had a conveniency while they were taking a turn round the Castle, to satisfy her Curiosity, she was surprised to find that Billet in the place of that which she expected; Her mind being piercing and solid, She had thought that her Brother's interest had carried him to favour the Knight, and that without any further examination, that which he had given her came from him: Having found the contrary at the opening of the Billet, she fell into a musing, out of which she had much to do to get; the hand of him who had writ it was hnown to her, and her Heart perhaps not agreeing with the Contents of it, she was vexed with her Brother for having taken upon him a business which extremely displeased her, and she disposed herself to ill treat them both.  
This vexing gave her a secret cause to doubt of the fortitude of her Heart, and persuaded her that it was no longer in a state of making choice; she presently bend her anger on St. Sauveur, and that proceeding which perhaps she had easily forgiven in St. Hubert, did vex her mortally; neither did she fail of reproaching to herself that distinction which she made, and in representing to herself an hideous Picture of Love, wherewith to fortify herself against that which insensibly attacked her, she resolved to generally hate all that was Man, and to incessantly oppose the Indulgency of her own Temper.  
Mean time St. Sauveur desirous to learn originally the effects of his Billet, returned into her Apartment, and was going to cast himself at her Feet, when a certain look seemed to pronounce the Sentence of his Condemnation.  
He being naturally of an high Spirit, he thought it would too much offend his Honour to descend so low; so that turning the business into a mere Gallantry, Really Madamoiselle, said he, I did not think to offend you in taking advantage of those Bounties you have always expressed to me; it is but for want of understanding well what it is to love, that I have made a theft of which I had not well weighed the consequences; but Mademoiselle, I am ready to expiate my fault in all that you shall please to order me to do: And if I have been too foolish, it shall make me wiser for the future: Here are the Verses which I did ill to take, added he, presenting them to her; and seeing I have had the ill fortune to displease you in robbing you of them; I foresee that I do you a singular kindness in restoring them to you again.  
She thought at first that St. Sauveur gave her the change; she had heard his Discourse with attention: She remained a moment startled at it, but at last having resolved to remain serious, You are very inquisitive and very bold, she replied, to take upon you the knowledge of my Sentiments, after having so sensibly offended me; in truth, I know not after what manner you pretend to justify yourself; I know that Friendship has its just bounds, and that you have this day appeared to me very different from yourself. This Discourse delivered with a little Heat, caused him to blush and grow pale again, and his Heart panting with Love and Vexation, knew not what party to take; when Chanlieu interrupted by his presence a Conversation which began to grow warm; he presently observed some anger on his Sister's face, and guessing the cause to be the reading of the Verses which he had given her; he thought he was frowned upon on that occasion; he appeared vexed at it, and drawing from her coldness an ill Omen for his Friend; he let himself go to a Sorrow capable to confirm him in his Error. He made a sign to St. Sauveur to follow him out, to discourse with him in the cause that could produce so great a Melancholy in so short a time; and this last finding himself confounded with all his Questions, cunningly feigned a necessity of retiring, and took leave of him somewhat hastily. He instantly run to his Sister to learn from herself the cause of this mysterious departure, finding her more cheerful than before, she laid all the cause on the unevenness of her temper: Yet durst he not inquire concerning her Sentiments on St. Hubert's Gallantry; He thought it more proper to send and Express for him, that he might come and inform himself of his good or bad Fortune; he failed not to be there the very next day before his Mistress was up, resolved to declare his Passion to her in most moving terms.  
He felt on this occasion a trouble, which joined to his natural timidity, put him into a great consternation; he altered five or six times his mind, and at last having a little settled himself, and drawn new vigour from the greatness of his Love, he broke that Silence which he had for some time kept, he performed it in a manner accompanied with an apprehension which did highly grace the beauty of his Compliment. He protested to her, That she was not to be offended but at her own Charms for it, that he had resisted his Passion with vehemency, but that at last he had been forced to yield to so many Charms. You may have seen perhaps a slight Draught of my Flame, in my Verses which your Brother gave you yesterday, added he, beholding her with a languishing Transport; you ought to look for my excuse but in your Eyes, they are only guilty of the attempt, and all reasoning is to be laid aside when one goes about so fair a Conquest; there is no Learning nor Morals can hold, and the greatest difficulties are with ease overcome.  
This fair one having heard him, without speaking, kept silence a little while longer, and by that showed that there passed a great Combat in her mind: She at last gave a great sigh, which smothered part of what she would have answered, and she rested satisfied in saying, That his Compliment was so extraordinary, that she knew not what to judge of it, and that the Age was sufficiently Gallant to have inspired him with Follies, so common with the Ingenious; yet I am willing, continued she, to render you some Justice in this Rencounter, and to believe that there is some Integrity in your proceeding, what good would it do you to love me? And if the thing be true, will you not do better to cure yourself in time, rather than to persist to see me? Our Religions are at present at open Difference, we are crushed down with new Declarations, and it wants but little that the Clergy thinks not of forbidding the Catholics on pain of Fire not to have any Protestant Intrigues: Believe me, Knight, cure yourself, if it be possible, and without having occasion of letting you know what my Sentiments are; be satisfied that another should not come off so easily. Ah! Mademoiselle, cried he at this long Discourse Love is of all Religions, and it becomes not Men to make Laws for him that rules all the World; he little regards dangers, and drawing from himself the most proper means to his end, he is sufficiently ingenuous to bring about what ever he undertakes: No, Mademoiselle, your Orders are too difficult to perform; and I have always heard say, that nothing but Death can free one from so fair and so strong a Chain as mine is. He expressed those last words with an ingenuity that was capable to mollify her; she stood in want of all her Fortitude to prevent him from taking notice of some marks; so that retiring deeper into her Character of severity, she obliged him to leave off a Discourse, which seemed not to please her.  
Chanlieu, who was harkening, ravished with so passionate a Conversation, thought that he might come in and neck the time, with joining his Reasons to those of his Friend; he boldly came in, and taking one of his Sisters fair hands, he subtly laid it into St. Hubert's, who venturing to kiss it with fervour, presently sought for the effect in her Eyes, which that Action might have produced, and finding nothing there that was sinister to his love, he took the boldness to speak to her of it as eloquently as he could possible.  
Long since had Mademoiselle of Chanlieu known the Knight St. Hubert's passion, and her Heart had already given to itself divers Lessons on that Chapter; she found nothing in it of advantage for her part; and setting aside all his fine. Qualities, she fretted at herself, and at her small risistance; Sometimes she would flatter herself in her amorous thoughts, and her Brother's example seemed to authorize her in divers things. Those Reflections gave her but little rest, and her uneasiness did clearly appear on her face, she had a Maid Servant, in whom she did much confide, and who already was the confident of that pain which tormented her; she made her to lie with her that night, and did conjure her to give her Remedies proper for her passion; how cross is Love, said she sighing, to kindle in two hearts so opposite in Religion, one and the same Love, so much agreement, with so much antipathy; then adding those reasons which she thought to have to hate the Knight, she would afterwards endeavour to justify her inclinations, and let herself be carried away by the rapid motion of her Star.  
La Grange, (so was that Maid named,) who knew after what manner she was to manage her Mistress' mind, had never directly opposed herself to her pleasure, not to affrighten her passion on the sudden, she had contented herself till then, to dexterously insinuate to her, without affectation, some hatred for all that was Catholic, and whether through that Motive, or for other secret Reasons, she never ceased speaking well of St. Sauveur; yet perceiving that now her heart was on the point of determination, she made her so powerful a representation of the evil consequences which she did foresee, thereby to retard the course of a tenderness, which was taking a Road so contrary to her desires, that at last she did quite bias her. She said that so strong a passion could not be cured, but by violent Remedies; that to that effect, she was to accustom herself with some Gentleman worthy of her; that that was an easy way to destroy the Ideas of a primary flame, and that she found nothing in St. Sauveur unworthy of her esteem.  
Madmoiselle of Chanlieu found both good sense and ingenuity in that proposition, and becoming melancholic in the highest degree, had almost no other thoughts than to free herself from that evil which possessed her: she entreated her Brother to press her no longer on a thing so disadvantageous to her; she let him see the difference there was betwixt an Huguenot who loved a Catholic Woman, and a Catholic who loved an Huguenot Woman; that his example ought not to persuade her, nor to render her guilty of his weaknesses. Chanlieu not knowing whence that blow came, was moved at this discourse, and had not his Love taken him by his own interest, perhaps he had found those reasons of his Sister very lawful; he then carped at all she said, and complained of it in a manner to make her apprehend how far his vexation did go.  
That was the Cause, why she resolved to use a great management in her concerns, and to temporise: she affected a gay humour, and though resolved never to sacrifice her Conscience's interest to that of her Love; she did frequently give St. Hubert some little marks of that which she had for him: this constraint did infinitely disturb her Soul, and so rapid an agitation causing her to fall into a violent fever; there was for some days a doubt of her Cure; but at last youth, and her good habit did re-establish her, almost against her own desires.  
It can not be said how much that sickness caused of trouble to St. Hubert, he himself had like to have died with sorrow, while that St. Sauveur enraged to see, as it were in the arms of another, a Person whose Conquest he had thought so easy, did find some ease in his affliction, by that which his Rival did feel. He gave her a visit, and having been informed that she had spoke his name in the height of her raving, he the more pressingly did express to her the share which he bore in her indisposition. She received his Compliment in a very acknowledging manner, gave him to believe she approved of his visit That Gentleman who did not expect such a favourable reception, returned her a thousand thanks, and went from her but with regret, he could not guests whence that kind reception proceeded unless her Sickness had rendered her more tractable than formerly.  
It was about that time that St. Hubert had some information that his Kinsman the Viscount was come into that Province, where he had conducted the Marchioness his Wife; his devoir inviting him to give them a Visit; he learned during his stay with them the occasion of their misunderstanding. The Viscount had formerly given a very rich Cabinet to the Marchioness, in which the Workman had made a secret very difficult to be discovered; and there remaining in it by accident a Billet-dous which he writ to her, she after his departure having examined every corner of the Cabinet, had believed the Bill to be designed for some other, and being jealous of herself, her passion had dictated that which he received in Lorain, so that at his return he had resolved to avoid all future misunderstandings by a sudden Marriage, and so conclude that to be only the means which could set him at ease. The Marchioness smiled at the discourse, and said that if any one had taken advantage of her credulity, that for the future she would no longer pass for simple, and that the Viscount would take but too great advantages of her weakness: The Knight took delight in that little fuge, and gave them also an exact account of his late Adventures, how that he had found by chance, that which he could never find by any application; with divers other passages of his Love. The Marchioness resented a great deal of joy at it, and in the desire to see a person that so much resembled her, she engaged St. Hubert to afford her that satisfaction, so soon as she should be recovered of her indisposition; she enquired of him whether he found himself Well of his Love, and whether he believed not there were some Schism or Heresy in the Service of a Huguenot? on which he craved a cessation of Arms after a gallant manner; and made her a profound and pleasant Reverence, which stood in place of a Repartee.  
A Lover highly smitten cannot make long discourses in one and the same place, he still bears something in his mind that disturbs him, and deprives him of a great tranquillity. Thus he had passed whole Months at the Viscounts, with that joy which formerly the Marchioness did inspire in him, on the likeness she had with Madmoiselle of Chanlieu: He had then consolated himself of her absence on so fair an account, had not the desire which he had of knowing his Condition, continually persecuted him: he got on horseback, and that very day came to her, where he found Madmoiselle of St. Hubert, who was purposely come to take her friend in order to make her change air, and the Journey was concluded with Chanlieu against the next day.  
They were no sooner come to his House, but he particularly and wholly applied himself to procure them all the Divertisements that the Season would afford; he daily invented new ones, and being satisfied withhimself to have so agreeable a Company, he fancied such Crotescoes, which he contrived in such sort, as made his wit to be admired: Madmoiselle of Chanlieu perceived it but too much, and her heart which felt no real flame but for him, did endeavour to quench it by divers Lessons which she read to herself; all her efforts were very weak in that respect, and if on the one hand she had the vexation to love a Man, which could not marry her, on the other, she found a particular Charm to behold and hear him which was capable to discover her secret. Love and Reason, gave by turns cruel onsets to her mind, and representing to herself fate more dangerous than it was, she was very uneasy. All endeavoured to dissipate that Melancholy, which seemed as a relic of her Distemper. And Madmoiselle of St. Hubert having made her promise to be cheerful, they resolved to put a pleasant trick upon the Viscount.  
He had writ to the Knight that he would come to see him. This last having sancyed that he might take Madmoiselle of Chanlieu for his own Lady, he desired Chanlieu to dispose his Sister to take that day they should come, such an undress as the Marchioness used to wear, she easily consented to it; the Viscount came late with his Lady, and Saluted the whole Company, except Madmoiselle of Chanlieu, whom he really took for his own Lady; mean time fancying that he had seen her in two places at once, he remanined in a doubt, that gave occasion to a fit of laughing, which discomposed him. The Marchioness having first taken notice of the mistake, went and took Madmoiselle of Chanlieu by the hand, made her a thousand Caresses on their resemblance, and presented her to her Husband; who, no longer doubting but she was the Person of whom he had heard so much, Saluted her, and told her a hundred pleasant things on that Subject: the time they were together having afforded divers agreeable Conversations, she related to her the story of haet Bracelet, which she promised to send to him.  
This Rencounter having stirred up a desire in those ingenious Persons, of frequently seeing one another, they made Matches, from which Love, who gains from all things, gained advantage; and if the opening of the Campaign had not disturbed such innocent pleasures, nothing had been wanting to their entire happiness: The fair Chanlieu had no longer so great a weight of Melancholy, and Madmoiselle of St. Hubert, who was naturally more airy, had so aptly inclined her mind towards pleasures, that she insensibly did take delight to divert herself as well as the rest; she had for some time committed the conduct of her Heart to her own destiny, and but weakly opposed herself to the power of her passion: Lafoy Granges Counsels were fallen lame by the way, and St. Sauveur came no longer in Competition. Divertisement would not allow her any time to think on her first Enterprise, and St. Hubert did easily find out opportunities in which to express his tenderness to her; but Orders being come, they were forced to part: Chanlieu would go a Volunteer to partake of those dangers which might befall him; and this separation, preceded by a tender Farewell, drew a deluge of Tears, not excepting Madmoiselle of Chanlieu. I must confess that St. Hubert told her the most moving things in the World; he did particularise to her the secret motions of his passion, and omitted nothing to make her approve of so Heroic a Love. Must it be that through a diversity of Faith (said he) you should refuse to give me yours, which would render me most happy? believe me, Madmoiselle, the Orders of the Court shall never make me to act any thing to your prejudice: You shall ever be the Mistress of my Heart, and I shall sacrifice with pleasure my Fortune to my Love. Then would he change Discourse, to inform her after what manner they might Love without agreeing in their Religions; he seemed by these Arguments to set both their Hearts in a perfect harmony, and that nothing could oppose it; he offered at making some agreements as to the difference of their Belief, but she for her part unwilling to venture any thing of that nature, called him a Love Casuist, she told him that he looked on their difference in Opinions, but by the most advantageous Light, and that he spoke but by halves concerning their difficulties: Yes, Knight, I suspect you, added she, and If I distrust myself in Love, why may not I suspect you? I insist not to obtain a Victory, which perhaps might cost me my Life. Remember, that it would suffice many others if I did but merely assure them of my Friendship, and that I wish you an happy return. He could obtain nothing more than the permission of Writing to her, when Monsieur of Chanlieu would inform him of her Health, and taking leave of her, they went their ways with the Viscount, all three possessed with very different thoughts.  
Monsieur the Marshal of Crequi, was very eager to recover that credit by the taking of Luxemburg, which he had lost through the great Snow that had fallen the Year before, and to reduce a place which he had been in a manner obliged to quit. All the Winter had been employed about all the necessary Preparations, to beat back Parties that continually Sallied out on the Plains; the Orders were given from Court, and the Approaches were made with more ease than was expected; the Trench was opened, and the Prince of Chymai omitting nothing on his part, for the preservation of a Town which he was resolved to defend for divers Reasons, both Parties disposed themselves to a vigorous offence and defence. The Governor, that he might not tax himself of any neglect, failed not in the least to any Duty of his function, and adding policy to strength, caused in one Night all his Batteries to be raised, on certain elevations which command a great Plain; and the next day he sent some Squadrons to show themselves on that side; the Besiegers who went to Charge them, sent their Horse after them, but the Spaniards giving way too soon, there was not had from the fire of the Batteries all the success, which had been expected. Yet St. Hubert, who had been Commanded one of the first, to beat back that Party, was wounded with a splinter in the Head, and though his Wound did not appear very dangerous, it caused him a very violent Fever, which put his Friend into some fears.  
He writ word of it to his Sister, who during their long absence had liesure to abandon herself to her austere Reflections: Lafoy Grange, who found those moment's favourable to her desires, did incessantly labour in them, and St. Sauveur was on his part very assiduous, in expressing to her after a nice manner something of his Passion. This Charming Maiden assaulted so many ways, did resist as much as she could possibly, and Love would soon make her to return from all that she undertook to his prejudice. How happy am I, said she one day, in the height of her thoughts, to still despair following that Party, which Reason and my Duty lead me to, and that a fatal Love should come unpunished to triumph over my weakness! no, continued she, I must triumph in my turn, and after I have so long suffered, I will take up a resolution, advantageous to my Conscience, and fatal to my Tenderness: My Heart which first yielded, shall be the first Victim which I will sacrifice to my severity, and St. Sauveur shall possess that place, which I had too weakly given up to a Catholic.  
This last thought had so prevailed over her mind, that she omitted no means of finding opportunities to favour St. Sauveur, and to give him marks of a tenderness, which she endeavoured to ravish from St. Hubert: He was privately advertised of it by his correspondent; and if he had not made and amorous scruple of accepting of an Heart which was not offered him by a Principle of Inclination, peradventure that he had wholly triumphed over his Rival, notwithstanding all the Indifferency which was had for him: He therefore complained of the manner after which he was to be beloved, and refining on the score of sensibility, he protested to her that he preferred hatred to such a kind of Love, that he had studied on the nature of tenderness, and that he figured to himself no pleasure but in a conformity of Sentiments.  
This generous proceeding was capable of increasing that esteem which she might have for him; Madmoiselle of Chanlieu, in discovering to him that which she felt for St. Hubert, did on the other hand assure him, that it was not only through necessity, that she had resolved to receive him favourably; that friendship usually was a forerunner of Love, and that in a word he framed to himself Chimaeras on a Party which he ought to embrace with joy; that she would cure herself in time of a flame, which she looked on already as guilty, and that he ought not to distrust his own good Parts. In all that, there was nothing but what was very obliging, and St. Sauveur had doubtless passed over all considerations, if there had been any bottom in all those advances which were made him: Madmoiselle of Chanlieu still wavering in her designs, wished herself ill for having made him such large advances, and the Idea of the Knight appearing again to her Eyes with all his Charms, she retracted in herself those Offers which she had made in favour of his Rival. The news also of his illness came so pat to disturb that new Project, that one scarcely can describe the effect which it produced: Compassion brought back her true Love, and made her then, more than ever, to know the true Character of her Passion.  
She was oppressed with fear, and apprehending the danger greater than it was, her Soul was plunged into inconceivable troubles and agitations: She would sometimes represent to herself the Knight half dead; and sometimes again she would check that thought which she had entertained of driving him from a place which so justly possessed: She rendered a Visit to Madmoiselle of St. Hubert, to show her what part she took in that sorrow which that ill News did cause her, and resolved not to leave her very soon, she gave Orders to keep that Visit private, that she might not be disturbed. They related to one another very agreeable things on the conformity of their Inclinations; they exclamed against that blindness of Fate, that had produced such cross oppositions in their Amours, in managing so ill their Inclinations; they both stormed against the rigour of the Edicts, and a Thousand times wished to have them re-established in the same condition in which Henry the Great had left them.  
Finally, after having expressed great Complaints, they thought they ought to temporise a little, and that peradventure time would produce then some unexpected means; that it were better to wait patiently for the time to come, than to torment themselves through uncertain apprehensions. That was the best part they had to take; it is to languish to be always foreseeing what is to happen either of pleasant or distasteful; the privation of a Good which we hope for, passes in our minds for a real loss, and it is but the forwarding of one's evil, thus to seek after it before it be come. St. Sauveur, could not tell since that time to what to attribute that coldness which he found in Madmoiselle of Chanlieu's proceeding; and though he valued himself on the account of Penetration, yet could he not discover the true cause thereof. All that La Grange could say, was, that it was an effect of her Mistress' Irresolution; he would not believe it, and boggling at all things, he fruitlessly sought after that which was so easy to be found; his hopes being so soon vanished away did much afflict him, and meeting, notwithstanding all his new Attempts, with a resistance which he had not expected, his Resentment prevailed above his Reason, and vexed to have been the Cully of a Woman, he resolved to have no considerations for a Person who had so little regard for him.  
There is nothing so dangerous as a Lover, who thinks himself played upon by that Person of whom he is favoured; his Love frequently degenerates into fury, and nothing is capable to put a stop to his fatal designs. St. Sauveur resenting a wrong which he looked on as the highest of scorn, prepossessed on the other hand with his good Qualities, passed on the sudden into extravagancies, and resolved to revenge himself, at any rate soever. He remembered that an Italian had frequently mentioned to him a composed Perfume, which might easily. be enclosed in a Packet of Letters, and which at the very first opening would attack with his subtle and corrosive parts, whatsoever offered itself to them.  
He was not ignorant how jealous a young Lady is of her Beauty, and that treachery seemed to him proper for his revenge, he was resolved to make use of it, to punish that which he called the infidelity of a Daemon, in Madmoiselle of Chanlieu; it was her Face that had first of all poisoned his Heart, he thought by that, his Enterprise to be Authorised, and that after he should have destroyed her Charms, he should easily compass the rest; that the Cause once ceasing, the effects would cease also, and that she should have leisure to repent of the wrong which she had done him. He went his way in that cruel resolution, to find out his Man at Paris, and to set him to work about that instrument of his Revenge.  
Without dispute, Love frequently produces strange Metamorphoses, and if it is a fine thing in itself, he yet sometimes begets Monsters. St. Sauveur had always passed for a brave and good Man, incapable of an ill Action, and some little vanity which he naturally had, did not hinder but that he had acquired the Reputation and Esteem of gallant Men. Mean time his Passion having seized his Brain, he fancied that he had right to revenge himself of an unconstancy, and his despised flame continually offering itself to his Eyes, he resolved in that infatuation, to satisfy himself at the cost of his Honour and Conscience. So soon as the Perfume was finished, he first made a trial of it on a Wretch, so that being assured of the Success, he got the Italian to make up the Packet, which he himself sealed with a counterfeit cipher of St. Hubert, in opinion that the Letter would therefore be opened with more eagerness, and being returned home, he gave order to have it sent to the Posthouse; after which, being filled with black melancholy Thoughts, he abstained from seeing her, for fear her presence should make him to alter his design, and went out of a Kingdom where his Conscience began to be tormented on divers accounts.  
It will be something surprising, to hear that a Person capable of so much baseness, should quit his Country on a Principle of Religion; but whether through that motive, or through some other, it is still certain that he retired into Holland, where he had great Acquaintances, perhaps it was also, that he would absent himself from a place, where he had been put to such Trials, and not to be near a Person that he treated so inhumanely. He left a Servant behind him, in whom he put great Confidence, to give him an account of that Business, and stole away, not taking leave of any body. Divers Persons were surprised at his disappearing, and Madmoiselle of Chanlieu not knowing where to attribute this Retreat positively, believed that an amorous disgust might have called him to Paris to seek after other Divertisements, he having taken that Road to bring him at the Hague in Holland.  
He could scarce seek after a Retreat more agreeable, and more proper to divert his melancholy Thoughts, both by its curious Situation, and the fine People which usually meet at the Prince of Orange's, who then was seeking after all the means imaginable to put a stop to the King's Progress, which were publicly termed an Invasion, and an infraction of the last Treaties at Nimeguen; but Alas! the more he sought to divert himself, the less he found himself in a condition to relish the least Divertisement; his late Action did continually present itself to his Mind, and his Rage having given some place to Reason, he resented a torment which afforded him no rest. In this mortal restlessness, he learned by his Man's arrival the mischief which his Perfume had caused, in taking away Mademoiselle of Chanlieu's Life with her Beauty; that that Tragedy had surprised divers Persons, and that at the first noise of it he had hastened to join him at the Rendezvous. Never was Man more deeply struck than he was at that Relation, he fell into a kind of a Swoon, which deprived him of his Senses, and at last coming to himself again, he continued making of reproaches to himself that moved compassion; he twenty times called himself the Executioner of the fairest Person in the World; and passing from invectives to a giddiness, he secretly felt a sorrow which devoured him. So many sufferings did at last alter his Health; he fell into a languidness, that was accompanied with an excessive Fever, whence he hoped to receive a perfect Cure.  
Mean time, his Man had deceived himself in the relation which he had made him, and that noise which had been made of the Death of Madmoiselle of Chanlieu, had been found false. La Grange, who was St. Sauveur's Creature, and who improved by his Liberality, having been the first that received that Packet, did not doubt examining the Seal, but that it came from St. Hubert, she imagined that she should do a singular piece of Service to St. Sauveur to suppress it, and make him partaker of its Contents; she opened it then with great earnestness, and the Poison evaporating at that instant, made presently a passage for itself through the Mouth on to the Heart, she made a great outcry, which made some Persons run to her, but nothing could preserve her from a sudden Death.  
No body did imagine that her illness proceeded from that Paper, which was not so much as minded, nor the Author capable of such a Crime; it was rather attributed to those sudden Accidents, which sometimes happen when the least thought on. Madmoiselle of Chanlieu was sorry at it, and nothing less than the return of two Persons so dear to her could dissipate her grief: St. Hubert, and Chanlieu, came very opportunely for her, and she being resolved to follow her own tendency, she thought thenceforth to profit by those Lessons, which Love had made her during their absence. In effect, to what purpose thus so obstinately to oppose ourselves to our desires? The Remedies we seek after do but increase our pain, and in Love alone is to be found a Cure for Love; all Preservatives are useless, we seem to triumph over it for a time, but only to render our weakness more notorious. This was the Condition in which was her heart, and St. Hubert, who knew what Corrective she made use of, did so well play his batteries that way, that he never shot at random; he set himself up for a Mastermender of both the Religions, and dexterously applying those softenings which Monsieur of Condom has made use of to delude the Reformed, he had perhaps led her into some of those kind of Pitfalls, if she had had less of enlightening, and of fortitude.  
The Edicts, and the King's new Declarations did then cause an infinite number of innocent Persons to shed tears, and forced a great number to fly from a Country where their minds were kept under such a severe slavery. Madmoiselle of Chanlieu did so ingenuously disengage herself from those false shadows which Love used to lull her Conscience asleep, that she vowed to follow the example of so many generous Fugitives, and to abandon her own Country.  
The Passages began to be possessed, since the Squabbles of the Province of Dauphin, and she had gladly made use of St. Sauveur, to facilitate her retreat, if it had been possible; his Crime was still unknown to her, and she had easily entrusted herself to his Cares and Conduct.  
She openly chid her Brother on his sluggishness, and told him things grounded on so firm and Christian a Moral, that peradventure he had resolved not to be, of the number of the Temporisers, if he had less permitted himself to be possessed with his passion. In this confusion she believed that she might obtain one thing from her Lover's Generosity, after which she sighed with so much ardency, his merit was not unknown to her, and in the hopes of receiving from him that mark of a truly Heroic Love, on which she should account all her life time, she resolved to propose it to him at the first opportunity; and beginning, by letting him see in her lovely eyes, and in her actions, some part of her tenderness; How unjust and capricious is Fate, said she to him, to that purpose? I find in myself some dispositions to love you, which cause me to blush, and if my whole Religion did not step in to my aid, perhaps you would not complain of my severity: But, Knight, judge without Interest, of the Party which is left me to take; or rather acknowledge yourself, that you would be sorry to see a thing happen, which would cost me no less than my life. I could wish in a word, that our Religions could agree together as well as our hearts: Alas! you should not then reproach me of Insensibility. There she shed abundance of tears, which had like to have made St. Hubert die with Love; he cleaved to her knees, and endeavouring to gather on his face some of that precious water, he told her languishingly, that he should make to himself perpetual reproaches to have loved her, if his Love was not of a different Character from that of other men; and if he did not distinguish that bright flame which kindled it. Yes, Madmoiselle, answered he to her, I love you like a Goddess, and your Orders are so dear to me, that it shall never be said that I have refused punctually to put in execution  you shall command me. I am ready to sacrifice to you my Interests, and my Life, and after those soft words I have newly heard, I cannot die unhappy.  
Alas! answered she, I never doubted of the brightness of your flame; I know you but too much, Knight, and perhaps I should not know you so much, but this injustice of the Court disconsolates me; and seeing I must begin to give you some marks of my weakness, by that of my confidence, I am forced to confess to you, that nothing ties me more to my own Country, than the pleasure I have to see you there; and that my Conscience incessantly pressing me on that point, I cannot defer going elsewhere to seek out a safe place of refuge for it. You sigh, added she, but do you not find, that it is better yet, that I should live absent from you, than to expire with grief and sorrow; yet there is no medium, those two extremities are Infallible; and if my flight saves me not from the danger I am in, nothing else but death can free me from it. Think of it, St. Hubert, continued she, you alone can save me, and if the Heavens do ever reunite us again, I do promise you that it shall be by that obligation accompanied with all my tenderness, that I shall begin to crown your flame.  
This Lover cast down in himself, through his Love, and his Virtue, knew not how to resolve himself to become the instrument of his own misfortune, he presently conceived her intention, and reflecting on the oddness of his Fate, he was a long time considering in himself, without saying a word, their Souls saw one another through their eyes, and he finally broke silence by an answer interrupted with sighs; I should amuse myself, to seek for Succour in a long reasoning, said he, to remove from you a thought, which directly opposes the interest of my Love, and I should endeavour to make you quit a Design so fatal to my quiet, if I did not know the steadfastness of your resolutions. I know, Madmoiselle, that you will always do what you will by invincible reasonings; I even know that you will find in my blindful obedience more of Ardency and Passion, than of indifferency, that you will attribute to the greatness of my flame, that submission for every thing that comes from your desires. But, Madmoiselle, have you considered well of it? And should we not both do better to take some considerable time to run over this enterprise? No, added he, Madmoiselle, I am overcome, and though it should cost me ten thousand Lives, I will sacrifice them to you, and deprive myself of a good that I should prefer to all the blessings of the World. He ended these words with so moving an air, that she had much to do to refrain expressing her Resentments to him by such Caresses as had been full of innocency. Ah! Love, Love, how unjustly dost thou treat us, (they both cried out,) and having tenderly pressed each others hands, they parted with sorrow painted on their faces.  
Chanlieu, having suspected something of his Sister's Design, found himself in a great confusion; he went to see St. Hubert, who made out the business to him, and in relation to his particular interest, that he might persuade him to divert that enterprise, he told him in that view, that there might be some intelligence betwixt his Sister, and St. Sauveur; that his retirement rendered the thing but too likely, that at least, it was necessary, first, to be well informed of it, before they proceeded any further. But St. Hubert observing by this Discourse, that Love only could be capable of such a reasoning, answered him, that he was assured of his Sister's right intentions, and that far from believing that any other had any place in her heart, he did not despair one day to possess her wholly himself; protested to him at the same time, that no distance should be in the least prejudicial to his Love; that on the contrary, he should seek more than ever after his friendship, in this absence.  
This assurance having set Chanlieu in his right temper again, he returned home, to discourse with his Sister about it, and to let her know, that he should follow her so soon as he had set his Concerns in the best order he could possible. He effectually began it, in drawing considerable Bills of Exchange for her, upon a Rich Banker of London; and not daring to accompany her far, to avoid all suspicions, she took the Road to Paris, where St. Hubert waited for her.  
She afterwards went from thence, habited like a young English Lord, with him and a Woman, whom she had obliged also to put on a Man's Apparel: His Company was at Calis, and the Packet-Boat being ready the next day after they came he gained some Fishermen to carry that precious trust to that English Vessel, so soon as it should be a League at Sea. The hour of parting being come, it may be said that there did then pass betwixt those two Persons the most tender farewell in the world. Madmoiselle of Chanlieu did find so many charms in that last action, that she thought herself not obliged to observe much Decorum: she assured him, that that separation did increase that esteem she had for him, and that the Fates would one day find a Secret to reunite them more closely; tears after that were shed on both sides, and she being got into their Vessel with her Woman, the Knight returned home uncapable to conceal his sorrow.  
He passed a very ill night, uncertain as he was of his Destiny, he complained against his proceeding, then finding nothing in it but what was generous, he concluded that Love ought to have treated him with more mildness and indulgency. By break of day he sent for one of the Fishermen, and having learned that they had successfully put the Ladies on board the Packet-Boat, he was less uneasy, and better satisfied. But that Tranquillity lasted not long, and that beginning was followed with a very Tragical conclusion. He frequently did go to the Seashore, as if to ask what news of his Mistress; and some days being passed in an unparallelled expectation of Letters; news was brought by another Packet-Boat, that the first had wracked against an Hollander, and that the storm was so high, that they had not sav'd so much as the Crew. He had this Fatal and Sorrowful Adventure repeated five or six times over, and fearing publicly to discover a grief which might have betrayed his Secret, he went and melted into tears in his Closet.  
Nothing could consolate him, and that loss appeared so sensible to him, that he soon found himself in a Condition worthy of Compassion; he reproached to himself to have been the cause (through his blind complacency) of the death of a Person whom he so tenderly loved; sometimes he not only desired death, but in that moment he would have sought after it with honour; he would still return on the Shore, to reproach that Merciless Element of its great injustice, and to demand of it at least that body which it was unworthy to contain. He would seek about for some pieces of the wrack, and he abandoned himself to a Sorrow that was capable to kill him.  
An Officer of Fustenberg, who had his Chamber near to his, and who had heard him complain in private, mistrusted something of his ill fortune, and took the liberty to speak to him of it; he at first feigned to have formerly had such a misfortune as his, that what he should say to him, might make a stronger impression on his mind. He added, that peradventure she might have escaped from perishing, that the thing was not impossible, and that he should not do ill to take a turn in Holland to inform himself exactly of it. That Proposition pleased the Knight, and this Officer having had leave to go to Denmark, whence he was, he offered to accompany him; so that they went down the River Escaut, and visited all the Seaports of those Provinces, till at last he believed he might hear more fully at Amsterdam (where they parted) the particulars of that Shipwreck, which pierced his heart.  
His restlessness scarce affording him any rest: he continually walked in the great places of that Town; he would frequently go so far as the texel, to know whether the Vessel which had caused the Packet-Boat to miscarry, was not returned; he put all the Seamen he met with on that Theme, and the uncertainty that every body was in about that Vessel, served but to increase his Sorrow, and send him home with an addition of Grief. One day as he passed through the Quarters of the Jews, he was stopped there by an Object which surprised him; and in the dread of finding in it the certainty of his Misfortune, nothing but his despair could oblige him, as it were against his will to draw nearer to it; it was a Woman's habit, which he knew but too well for that of his unfortunate Mistress; he became motionless at the sight of a thing that deprived him of all the rest of his hopes; he had not the power to speak for a while, his Soul being at last returned from its wandering, he looked on those sad Relics in the most sad and most moving manner imaginable; he asked the price of it, and enquired of the Jew how he had come by it?  
It was by the means of a Correspondence at Rouen, by whom he frequently received old . The wracks of the Packet-Boat, which had been driven to shore, had been found by Soldiers, who had kept them, but so long time as required to sell them; and because an exact search was made after all that had been found, they had rid themselves of it so fast as they could. The Knight thus informed, paid for the Suit, and had it carried to his Chamber, where he watered it with a torrent of tears. He complained of his ill sat in so moving an air, that no body could forbear to Sympathize with him in his sorrow; he was laid in a Bed overcome with grief, and in a Condition that moved compassion; he at first refused all sort of nourishment, but at last he took a resolution worthy of his Courage; for in the thoughts that the Sea might have cast on Shoar the Body of a Person so dear to him, he resolved to examine all the Coasts adjacent to the wrack, to inquire after a thing which appeared so important to his Love; he got to the Hague, where he was obliged to rest two days, to repair the troubles of his mind; but rest did but increase his restlessness; he found in all places the Person he hunted after, and Madmoiselle of Chanlieu did continually appear before his eyes, his imagination would make him divers representations of the Shipwreck; which grieved him so, that some times, believing himself present at that accident, he would frequently rise on the sudden, as if to assist her whom he thought to see in the midst of the waves.  
In the height of these his rave, there happened an adventure in his Inn, which served but to confound him the more; St. Sauveur had lodged there, during his stay in that Town; and the Knight's apartment had been his. He had taken Ship to go for England, overcome 〈◊〉 remorces, and the negligence of his Man, who had let him forget some lose Papers in the corner of a Chamber, behind the Hang, gave opportunity to St. Hubert's Man to lay his hands on them; amongst which, he found a Letter, which he gave to his Master; it was a description of St. Sauveur's Love, his Pursuits, and his unfortunate Effects; he there imposed on himself most grievous torments, and severe punishments; and declared that being unworthy to live after so barbarous an action, he designed to end the rest of his days, in the bottom of some horrid and dismal Wilderness; that to begin the punishment of his Crime, he would Publish it, and by that means, make some kind of reparation to a Person whom he had treated with so much inhumanity; the Letter was without direction, and concluded with an Eternal farewell, and assurances, that he was going to end the rest of his days in some hollow Cave in the Isle of Carolina.  
The Knight was not long before he found the sense to this Letter, which was designed for La Grange, on whom all the ill fate of that Enterprise had fallen; he doubted not but that this unfortunate Lover was the Author of a death which had made some noise, and that he had attempted on a Person, whose loss had so soon followed his pernicious practices. He sixth himself after the manner of the ancient Romans to seek for her Body, to render his last Duties to those Relics which he adored; and following his way, he made the most exact perquisition after it that could be imagined.  
When he was got at Rouen, he learned, that not long since five or six dead Bodies had been taken up in the Downs, and particularly that of a Woman, who doubtless was a Person of Quality, by those Jewels which had been sound in the solds of her . That News accomplished his despair; he did entreat of the Commander that he might take her up again to make a Funeral worthy of her; and his Love inspiring him with Thoughts full of distraction, did retain him long in a place which was so grievious to him, so that he had much to do to get from it to return home.  
Madmoiselle of St. Hubert presently perceived that there was something more than absence in his Mind, and his Tears having made her to hit on the right cause, she made loud Complaints, which obliged Chanlieu to come and take his share, in the cruel destiny of a Person that was so dear to them all.  
The Knight in the midst of so many Condolances, believed that he should better and with more patience bear with his sorrow in such places where he had never seen his charming Mistress, and the King sending then some succour to the Duke of Savoy, against the Inhabitants of the Valleys, whom he accused to have given protection to his Fugitive Subjects, he was of the number of those Officers that were Commanded for that Expedition: His departure was no longer accompanied with those troubles which are caused by separation from a Mistress; he had then such as were much more grievous to bear, and the sweet hopes to see again what one loves had no place in his Breast. He at every moment represented to himself Mademoiselle of Chanlieu dead and buried, and the satisfaction of that remembrance did but increase his sorrow. In that conflict of Thoughts, there happened one very surprising, which was that he believed, in going to make his Campaign the Ghost of that illustrious Person would reproach his Conduct, and would blame him for having made War against Persons that were of her Religion.  
That consideration did stay him in the Province of Dauphine; besides he being not over much prepossessed with the Opinions of the Catholics, he found that they acted with too much rigour against innocent Persons, which were charged with imaginary Crimes. That Languidness which he had contracted, furnishing him with means to feign an Indisposition, he obtained to be transported to Grenoble to recover his Health; where having not found the Air conformable to his melancholy humour, he afterwards chose Marfeilles, the Governor of which place he particularly knew; and finding that Seaport to his mind, he resolved to reside there.  
His particular delight was the walk on the Key, where at every hour there are seen Ships come in loaded with Curiosities. Besides, he imposed it as a Law to himself, to frequently reproach the Sea of her unjustice, and to ask it an account of the Murder which it had committed; he never did see any strange Vessels come in, but he informed himself of the Road they had come, and that which they designed to keep, and preferring that Diversion to all those which others would have procured him, he would stay in the Citadel no longer time than needed, not to appear ridiculous.  
The Governor, who thought himself obliged to Divert him, omitted nothing to that purpose, wherefore he made Matches in consideration of him. And the pleasure which the Knight took to be on Shipboard, having obliged the Governor to invite him one day at Dinner on one of the largest that was in the Harbour; he was interrupted by an Officer, who gave him notice, that one of the Visitors had found some Protestant Subjects on a Dutch Vessel, which the Storm had forced in. That news was unpleasing to him, but the Orders of the Court being very precise on that account, he ordered that they should be presently brought to him: But how great was St. Hubert's surprise at their coming! he thought he saw amongst them Madmoiselle of Chanlieu; and taking for a phantasm, what doubtless was a real Body, he fancied himself to be in an Enchanted Island, or that at least this Adventure was nothing but a Dream. His Heart was in a continual throbbing, and in that uncertainty of his good fortune, he knew not what Party to take. His Eyes were so wild, and his Thoughts so confused, that he scarce knew himself; yet he found himself no longer liable to mistakes; his Love had taught him the difference there was betwixt her and all the rest of the World, and the Viscountess could no longer make him mistake. He drew near to the Governor, who knew all his Concerns, to offer to him his doubt, at that very moment that he was throughly informed by a look full of Reproaches: He presently run to ask her pardon for his tardiness, and having informed her of the Reasons, he continued to express to her a joy full of transports.  
The presence of so many Persons could not but be troublesome to two revived Lovers. The Governor left them alone, to taste with less constraint the effects of a faithful and tender Passion; during some time they expressed themselves, but with a silence, in which they confounded their looks: They a thousand times interrupted one another with Questions; St. Hubert cast himself at her Feet, as to return her thanks that he found her alive again, after he had no longer doubted of her Death. He would ask her, whether it was really herself, or whether it was her shadow only that was come to comfort him for her loss; he anew did caracterise to her the most tender parts of his Love; and having much to do to express himself in so happy a juncture, he gave her time to make this following Relation.  
You know, Knight, to what condition our separation did reduce me, and how troubled my Soul was at our parting, I felt it yet more sensibly than I expressed it; and if I had not flattered myself of seeing you again one day, perhaps my enterprise had fallen short, and I had gone no farther. Ah! Mademoiselle, interrupted St. Hubert, that is too much for me, or rather it is sufficient to make me die for Love; I bless my Fate, added he, kissing most passionately her Hand, and I no longer doubt, after I have found you again, but that the Heavens will remove all obstacles which are opposed to my entire felicity. Then returning to examine, whether there was not some illusion in what that day had produced of such a miracuious nature, he showed by his Actions a flame most pure and most violent. Happen what will, he would say again with passion, after I have believed you dead, Love has preserved my Life, but to live happy for the future, and my bliss is to be envied. He had gone on in his Transports, if she had not let him know, that she would end her Narrative while they were alone, and that his Love was for a time to give place to his attention.  
I had some foreknowledge of my misfortune, continued she, by certain Circumstances which preceded it, and which began to make me find the difference of the two Elements: Those Fishermen to whom you had entrusted me, did not appear to me made like other Men; they had in their looks something of roughness, which made me to fear some ill design; neither did they fail of improving the occasion which had been offered them, and their terrible barbarous nature inclining them to cast us into the Sea, it was a miracle that they were satisfied with our Money only, with threaten to kill us, or to deliver us into the Inquisitors hands. I had by chance caused my Jewels to be sewed up in the folds of my , which I had made the Maid that served me to put on, and which by that means were saved from the plunder. These Pirates having put us on board the Passage-boat, I felt some inconveniences, which, joined to my sorrow, took almost all manner of knowledge from me: The Sea, and the agitation of the Waves having made me suffer much, I was not in a condition to observe what happened after. I only remember, that after I had heard great shrieks and outcries, I fell into a deep Swoon, which hindered me from seeing that evil which happened to us: I at last found myself in a little Bed, served by a Man who was not unknown to me; and casting about my wild looks, I had not the power to ask neither where I was, nor what they designed to do with me; I called however five or six times for my Woman; and I recovered again from a languishment, which made me find more sorrow in Life than in Death.  
He who had taken care of me, came then and cast himself on his knees near my Bed, and asked me a thousand Pardons, in a manner worthy of pity and compassion; he protested to me, that if the Heavens had not given him strength in saving me out of the Sea, to preserve a Life which he thought he had taken from me, that he never had dared to appear before me; and that if Repentance deserved that what was passed should be forgotten, there never had been one more sincere than his, nor followed with greater remorses.  
This confession made me think there was some mistake, and that I myself was deceived, in taking the Person who spoke to me for St. Sauveur; I made him to expound himself again, and so soon as he had informed me of the secret of his Action, I let him know that I was not in a Condition to owe any ill will to any body; that I hoped in a short time to be rid of these evils which overcame me, and that without any consideration to those Services which he had lately rendered me, I did freely forgive him.  
At that moment another faintness took me, which troubled him: Mean time the Storm still continued, and we had got the fourth Day to the height of Tangier; the fifth the Wind changed, and permitted us to pass the straits, to go Land in Spain in the nearest Harbour. Our Ship, which was bound for London, finding itself in the Mediterranean Sea, resolved to go to Genova to take in some Goods on the account of the Merchants; but the Sea, which seemed to oppose itself to all our Designs, kept us shut up at Valencia during three whole Months: There I suffered all that could be imagined; and if that St. Sauveur had not continued his Cares towards me, I believe that I had not escaped the Waves, but to die presently after on Land. He found out a Maid to serve me, and gave Money to the Captain of the Vessel to lend me, not daring to offer me any himself. It was then that he related to me all that his Enterprise had made him to suffer, and that thinking himself unworthy to live, he was resolved to go to Carolina, there to pass his Life like a true Hermit; that in that design he had took Shipping for England, but that the Packet-boat having stricken against their Vessel in the Road, it had been broke to pieces, the Storm not permitting so much as to save the Crew: That I had happily fastened myself to a Plank, which the Waves had cast on their Deck, and so had preserved me from an unavoidable danger; he added, that moved with Compassion, he himself had carried me into a , near to two Dutch Women, whom he entreated to take care of me, and to put me into a Bed, after which he came to know me again, when he was bringing some Cordials to comfort me; that he had long doubted of the reality of this Adventure, and that he never was fully convinced of the Truth till he had heard me speak. At this Recital he shed Tears, which moved me, whatever I could say, that this last Action did sufficiently repair all that a too violent Passion had formerly inspired him with to my disadvantage; his Melancholy increased, by which he contracted such a sorrow, which killed him in few days.  
I confess to you, that I was afflicted at it, and that he had at least the satisfaction in dying, to perceive the sorrow which his loss caused in me: We being in a Country, whence he could draw no Consolation but from himself, I thought it necessary for me to see him, and I dare say that he was overjoyed in those last Moment's, to hear me pray to God for him; he had obliged me to look after his Money, with which he had presented me in the time of necessity, which I accepted not, but on conditions to return it to his nearest Relations. Thus did I see expire a Person, who had given me different occasions of Love and Hatred towards him. I was so accustomed after that Death to suffer whatever Fortune prepared for me of good or evil, that I looked without the least concern on the wrong which she thought to have made me, in casting us from the Coast of Italy, whence we were not far, into this Harbour, which appears to me safe, through the pleasure which I receive to find you here, and to see you again with the same generous Sentiments of which you had given me such fair Proofs.  
St. Hubert, impatient in his turn, to give her an account of his sufferings, and of those troubles he had endured, related to her all his Travels, and omitted nothing of what could give her strong Ideas of his passion; he then found that at Rouen he had taken the Maid for the Mistress, and that it had been an hard piece of business not to have been deceived; besides those  which he had met with at the Jewry at Amsterdam, and all the other Circumstances, did but too much confirm him in his belief; so that he looked as a Miracle on the return of a Person, who according to all appearance had been swallowed up by the Sea, he would have given her new Testimonies of his Love, when the Governor came in, and expressed the share he had in their mutual joy.  
He bid them afterwards consider what measures to take, before he gave advice at Court of her seizure; that it was of great importance to take them very exact, and then leaving his friend Master of his fair Prisoner, with the means to see one another, he diminished by that generous act all that could remain in them of sorrow and vexation. According to all appearance there was but little remedy to be found to wholly free themselves from troubles, and had she not resolved to dispute of Religion with him, at that time he intended to speak of nothing but of Love, peradventure that she had never seen an end of her miseries.  
She was perfectly instructed in the Roman, as well as in her own, and the Knight being accustomed to hear her frequently decide divers Controverted points, he began to receive that which proceeded from her delicate mouth as Oracles, and at last was of Opinion, that in spite of his Director he might enter into a particular examination of his Belief. That hard usage against the poor Protestants had already given him some Ideas of their Innocence, and of the Injustice of their Cause, he anew consulted his own Conscience, and pierced by those Instructions that were given him, he believed that without allowance to his Love, he ought to be of the Religion of that Person whom he so tenderly loved.  
Madmoiselle of Chanlieu had never yet felt such a pure joy, as that which this Conversation afforded her; her heart was so pleased at it, that she scarce could manage its motions, she let him know that it was by that way only, that he had made an end of Conquering her, and that in time she should give him the strongest and most solid assurances of it; mean time, secrecy was to Conduct a business of that importance, and this happy Change was to remain sacred for all the rest of the World. The Major was persuaded that Madmoiselle of Chanlieu had resolved in Marrying of St. Hubert to wed his Religion also; by that means he had the pleasure to give to his advice what colour he pleased; and an answer to it being come by the next Post but one, he gave them no longer time but to advertise Madmoiselle of Chanlieu, and Monsieur of St. Hubert of the rest of their Adventures, and of their Marriage, which was performed very secretly. Their departure troubled him, being sorry to part with so good Company, he gave them some marks of his trouble by his Civilities, they also expressed the Obligations they had to him; and that amiable Company took the way into their own Province; they were no sooner got thither, but they thought of conveying a geat deal of means out of the Kingdom, and after what manner they should retire. They chose a trusty Gentleman to make a Voyage into Switzerland, to see whether that Road would be more safe than the others; he was at Geneva, where he sojurned two days with a Friend, where having received full Intelligence on his Journey, he returned to give an account of his Commission: That passage appearing dangerous, St. Hubert had a fancy which he thought very seasible. The Dragoons were still in the Piedmont, where they were making an attempt to destroy the Inhabitants of the Valleys: Though his duty did no longer call him to it, he lost no time, but got thither, to gain a passage out that way. He had agreed with Chanlieu, who had Married his Sister, that to secure more of their means, he should remain some time longer in France; that he should give out that St. Hubert was not so long absent, but to seek after his Wife who had stolen away from him. That he should change his Name, and by that means he should give him secret advices of all his Affairs.  
This Resolution being taken, he conveyed part of his Means into Holland, where he had friends, and being got to Turin, with a great Equipage, he went to the Camp, whence he returned to see his Wife at the appointed meeting place; they passed through the Milanese, and took the great Road into Germany, and from thence the Road to London, where one may remain as incognito as in Paris.  
FINIS.