They saw it was in vain to oppose his resolution, and were therefore silent.
He was delighted with the warmth of the young Count, and praised his spirit in the most lively terms.
He took leave of them the following morning, to pursue his plan, with the earnest good wishes of the whole family.
Meantime every thing succeeded at Tunis, to Matilda's wishes. Mr Weimar daily grew better. At first his recovery seemed rather a matter of regret to him; but when she assured him of her entire forgiveness, that she never would betray the secret of her father's death, and that the restitution of her estates would sufficiently prove his penitence for the intended wrong done to her, he grew more reconciled, and by degrees, her sensible and pious observations wrought such a change in him, that he determined, when he got well, the Captain giving him his liberty, he would enter into a monastery for the rest of his days. Matilda encouraged him in the design.
The Captain, who was present at many of their conversations, said, one night, that his dislike to the cruel business he had been engaged in was considerably strengthened by Matilda's dissertations on virtue and vice; he was resolved never to make another voyage; and, though he could not but think the faith of Mahomet the true faith, yet, for her sake, he would always respect Christians; because the two best women he knew, exclusive of his wife, were both Europeans and Christians.
Matilda impatiently expected an answer from Naples. The Captain at last received one. The good Count Morlini had been dead three years; the Countess, his daughter, was alive, though in a languid state of health, and was gone, with another family to Nice, to stay two or three months.
This intelligence was delightful to Matilda: she was anxious to set off as soon as possible.
Mr Weimar was now well enough to bear the voyage. He made a deed of gift to his niece, of all he possessed; having greatly improved the original fortune, from a fear of exciting too much notice and enquiry if he had lived otherwise; and told her, his intention was to enter into the order of poverty, as the proper retribution for his inordinate desire of wealth, which had induced him to commit such horrid crimes. She would have persuaded him to have chosen an order of less severity; but nothing could alter his resolutions.
The Captain having hastened his preparations, the day was appointed for sailing.
Matilda could not take leave of the Captain's amiable wife without feeling a very sincere regret; for, though they did not understand each other's language, yet the expression, of the heart was comprehended by both, and engaged mutual esteem and tenderness. The friend, or rather confidant of Mr Weimar, was sent for from the country, his liberty given him, and Matilda, at her uncle's request, promised to pay him the sum agreed upon in France, for his assistance to carry her off.
They set sail with a prosperous gale, but with hearts very differently agitated.
Much about the same time the Count De Bouville had taken leave of his friends; and having hired a vessel at the first sea-port, he proceeded on his voyage to Tunis, and, without any accident or interruption, safely arrived there six days after Matilda had left it. He was soon on shore, procured an interpreter, and hastened to the Captain's house. His heart beat fast with hope, fear, and expectation; but who can describe his emotions when informed of their departure for Nice. He asked a thousand questions could scarcely be persuaded but some sinister design was again practised against her, and it was with much difficulty he at length grew more reconciled and satisfied with the account he received.
He had nothing now to do but to follow her to Nice; but as water and some provisions were wanting for the vessel, he was obliged to bridle in his impatience, and remain there three or four days, which were ages in his calculation.
Matilda, meantime, safely arrived at Nice. Mr Weimar instantly left the place, promising to write his niece, under cover to the Marquis De Melfort, soon as he was settled in a monastery.
The Captain conducted Matilda to a hotel, and they consulted how to act. It must be confessed her situation was a very distressing one; no female companion, no one to introduce her, she might be supposed an impostor, notwithstanding the testimony of Mr Weimar, signed before the Captain. In short, they found themselves at a loss how to proceed. The first step was to know if the Countess Berniti was there; of this they were soon informed she was, accompanied by the Count and Countess Marcellini. After much deliberation the Captain proposed waiting on the Count, telling him a lady just arrived from Tunis, requested the favour of seeing him, to enquire after some very particular friends and relations she had at Naples. This scheme was adopted and put into execution. The Count was surprised at the message, but curiosity carried him immediately to the hotel, and he was introduced to Matilda. He was extremely struck with her figure and appearance. She trembled, and for some moments was incapable of speaking; but endeavouring to collect fortitude from necessity she thus addressed him, "The liberty I have taken in requesting the honour of seeing your Lordship here requires many apologies, but I am in a very singular and distressing situation. Will your Lordship permit me to ask you how long you have known the Countess Berniti" The Count started at the question. Almost from a child, madam; we were brought up in an intimacy from our youth." "You knew her unfortunate husband then, and his brother," said she, and possibly may recollect it was supposed the infant daughter of the Countess died in convulsions?" "Supposed ! " repeated he, "good God! What can you mean, madam?" "To recall to your mind, Sir, those circumstances on the developing of which my future happiness depends. Save your surprise, my Lord, and to elucidate my meaning, I must entreat the favour of you to peruse these papers, the confession of a dying man once brother to the late Count Berniti." The Count took the papers with the most eager curiosity.
Matilda, affected with hopes, doubts, and fears, could not suppress her tears: on this important moment her fate seemed suspended .
The Count made two or three exclamations, but when he came to the murder of his friend, he smote his breast, "Unparalleled wickedness and ingratitude!" cried he. Hastily proceeding in the narrative, he no sooner came to the exchange of the children, than throwing his eyes on Matilda, "My heart, and your striking resemblance to the charming Countess, tell me, you are her child."
"I am ! I am !" replied Matilda, weeping, and strongly agitated, "if she will vouchsafe to own me!" He folded her to his bosom, "Own you! O, what transport to recover such a daughter! Compose yourself, my dear young lady; I am little less affected than you are, - but let me finish this interesting confession of a miserable wretch." He went through the whole without any further interruption.
At the conclusion, the Captain related the events at Tunis, and the result of their enquiries at Naples, which had brought them to Nice.
"Doubt not, my dear lady, but all your troubles are over: behold the hand of Providence in every event; had not your wretched uncle taken you from France; had you not fallen into the power, perhaps of the only man who would have treated his captives with honor and compassion, unknown in general to people of his profession, -forgive me, Sir, the observation" -the Captain bowed - "had not the dread of death and everlasting punishments terrified the guilty wretch; had not all these singular events happened, through Divine permission, you might, to this hour, have been ignorant of your birth, and my amiable friend deprived of the joy and transport that await her in your arms."
The Count again warmly embraced her. He paid a thousand polite compliments to the Captain; and though he regretted leaving them, he was anxious to consult his lady in what manner to convey this delightful intelligence to the Countess.
When he returned to his lady she saw he was greatly agitated, and knowing the message he had received, was very curious to hear the result of his visit. She fortunately happened to be alone; he therefore related the whole story, read the papers, and spoke in raptures of Matilda's person, and engaging manners. Nothing could equal the astonishment of the Lady Marcellini. She anticipated the joy of her friends, yet was at a loss how to inform her of an event so entirel
y unexpected. They knew it must recall to her mind the horrid circumstances of her husband's murder, which neither time nor reason had ever reconciled her to support with any fortitude. "Yet," said the Count, "to recover such a child; to have a hold, a connexion in life so desirable and so unlooked for, must surely greatly overbalance the affliction of a painful remembrance, at least weakened, though not subdued."
They went to the apartment of the Countess. She was at her toilet. Her woman, being dismissed, "Well Count," asked she, "have you seen the lady from Tunis, -is she a Turkish woman?" "No, madam, she was brought up in Germany; she is a charming young creature, and you may be proud of the compliment," added he, smiling, "when I assure you she very strongly resembles your ladyship." "You are very polite, my good friend," answered she, in the same tone, "but I am neither young nor handsome, and you say this lady is both; but, pray, is she acquainted with any of our friends?" "Yes, but by name only; she has no personal knowledge of any one in Naples; she was very particular in her enquiries after you." "Of me!" said the Countess, surprised; "how could she know any thing of me?" You remember the Chevalier N -, who went abroad so many years since?" "Ah!" said she, with a sigh, I do indeed remember him; is he alive, -does this lady belong to him?" "He is not living," answered the Count, for Matilda permitted him to suppose he was dead, without asserting it; "this young lady was in some degree related to him, but I think more nearly so to your ladyship." "Heavens! my dear Count, you surprise me! I know not of any female relation I can possibly have." "She is certainly a near relation, however," replied the Count, "and you must prepare yourself for a most agreeable surprise, as I am convinced you will love her dearly." "Indeed, my good Count," exclaimed the Countess, "you have given me violent emotions; my heart palpitates, and my whole frame trembles; for God's sake, do not keep me in suspense -who can this lady be?" "Before we answer you, my dear friend," said the Count's Lady, "let me persuade you to take a few drops, in water, the agreeable flutter of your spirits will require them." "All this preparation terrifies me; I will take any thing, but pray be explicit at once." "Then, my dear lady, bear the joyful recital, I am about to give you with resolution."
He took up the story, at a French vessel, captured by the Corsair, and a gentleman on board, attempting to destroy himself and a lady, described the subsequent events, and then began the narrative. When in his address to Matilda, he said, "The Count Berniti was your father," the Countess started from her chair, "Gracious God! what do I hear; but no, -I can have no interest in it." She was silent. He proceeded, whilst she hung her head, drowned in tears at the mention of her husband whose death he slightly passed over, "till he came to the circumstance of the children. She gave a shriek, and throwing her arms around her friend, "If this is true, great God! if this is true, I may yet have a child. O! say," cried she looking wildly at him, "tell me at once, have I child?" "You have," said the Count, approaching her, "you have a daughter, my dear Countess, whom heaven has preserved to bless the remainder of your days." " 'Tis too much, too much, said she, putting her hand to her bosom and instantly fainted in the arms of her friend. Having drops and water at hand, she was soon recovered; and after a few sighs, that removed the oppression from her heart, she said, "Tell me, if it is the illusion of my senses only, or if indeed I have a child?" "No, my dear lady, you are not deceived -we have told you truth." "Then, where is she?" cried the Countess, eagerly, "let me see her -I die with impatience!" "Recover your spirits," answered the Count; "collect your fortitude, and I will immediately fetch her to your arms. O, hasten! hasten!" cried she, dissolving in tears, which they were glad to see. And the Count, with joy, flew to the hotel, where poor Matilda waited in all the agonies of suspense. "The discovery is made, my dear young lady; your mother is impatient to receive and bless you."
This intelligence, though so anxiously wished for, gave her inexpressible agitations; she got up and sat down, two or three times, without speaking, or being able to move; and at length, with trembling knees, was conveyed to the carriage, the Captain, at the request of the Count, accompanying them. When arrived at the house, and conducted to a room, she had a glass of wine to raise her spirits, whilst the Count announced her arrival. In a few minutes he returned, and took her hand. The Captain wished not to be present at the first interview. With a tremor through her whole frame she gave her hand; the door opened; she saw a lady, at the top of the room, who appeared to be in tears. Matilda saw no more, she sprung from the Count, threw herself on her knees before her, and without uttering one word, sunk into insensibility. The friends hastened to her relief. The Countess sat stupid, gazing wildly on her, without moving. When Matilda's senses were a little restored she looked up, she exclaimed, "My mother! O, have I a mother" That word recalled the Countess to sense and feeling; she clasped her in her arms, "Blessed! blessed sound!" she cried, "my child, my dearest daughter ! heaven be thanked." She dropped on her knees and lifted her hands and eyes to heaven, then again embraced her child, whose soft and tender emotions were too powerful to admit of speech, nor is it possible to describe the tumultuous joy of both for many minutes. The unhappy widow, the childless parent, dead to every hope of comfort, to embrace a child, adorned with every grace, to feel those delightful sensations to which her breast had been a stranger, and which mothers only can conceive, -a blessing so great, so unexpected, no language can describe. What then must be the feelings of Matilda, after suffering such a variety of sorrows, to find herself in the arms of a parent? O, sweet and undefinable emotions! when reciprocal between a mother and a child! who can speak the rapture of each tender bosom, when parental and filial love unites!
After the first transports were a little abated, the Captain was introduced. The Countess welcomed him as the preserver of her child. He was struck with the perfect resemblance between the mother and daughter, and extremely gratified by the affectionate attention of every one present.
In the evening Matilda promised to relate the particulars of her whole story, and the following day to write to her friends.
The Count now pursued his voyage to Nice, still doubtful of Matilda's safety, and the sincerity of Mr Weimar's repentance.
The wind was not favourable to his impatience, and the passage was a tedious one; at last, however, he was landed at Nice, and, after many enquiries, learnt there was a Turkish vessel on the point of sailing. He flew to the ship; the Captain was on board; without reserve the Count acquainted him with his errand, and search after Matilda. "Indeed, Sir," said the Captain, "I pity you; tis peculiarly unfortunate, that they have quitted Nice three days, on their way to Vienna."
The poor Count was struck dumb with vexation and disappointment; the Captain, however, related to him the whole story, as he recollected, in Matilda's narrative, he was mentioned as a particular friend. "When," added he, "the Countess was acquainted with the extent of her daughters obligations to the ladies in Germany, she instantly proposed going to Vienna, which being correspondent to Matilda's wishes, their friends consented to accompany them, and the happy party set off three days ago. Me," said the Captain, "they have rewarded with unbounded generosity much beyond my wishes or deserts; I shall now return, to live in the bosom of my family, and give up the sea for ever."
The Count applauded his resolution; and taking a ring from his finger, of value, "Wear this, my dear Sir, as a testimony of my esteem for the friend of Matilda, and remember, that in the Count de Bouville you will ever find one, upon any future occasion."
The Captain could not refuse so polite a compliment, though he was already amply gratified for the services he had done.
Thus we see a just and generous action scarcely ever fails of being properly recompensed.
The Count had now nothing to do but follow his mistress. He remembered Mrs Courtney telling him he was going on a Quixote expedition. What would she say now, thought he, how exult at my disappointed knight errantry? Then, when he thought of the discovery of Matilda's birth, "Ah!" said he, "should I no longer be dear to her, of what use is my pursu
it? she will now be introduced to the great world, and my pretensions may be distanced by a thousand pretenders of more merit and superior fortune! Nevertheless, I will not give her up until from herself I receive my doom." Accordingly the following morning, a little recovered from his fatigue, he set of for Vienna.
Meantime the Countess, her daughter, the Count and Countess Marcellini, with their attendants, were safely arrived at Vienna, from whence Matilda wrote to her beloved friends, and earnestly requested the favor of seeing them.
'Tis impossible to describe the transports which her letter occasioned. They lost no time in setting off, and that very same evening their names were announced, Lord Delby and the young Count restraining their impatience "till the following day.
The mutual joy, congratulations, and expressions of obligation which took place on their meeting may be easier conceived than described. The Countess Berniti was never weary of pouring forth her acknowledgements to the friends and preservers of her child, whilst they, on the other hand, could not help admiring the wonderful chain of events which had gradually led the way to such a happy discovery both for her and the Countess of Wolfenbach.
"To-morrow said the Marquis, "we shall beg leave to introduce our friend Lord Delby, and the young Count, my sister's son. I assure you," said he, addressing Matilda, "when we first heard of your being forced from the convent, our young Frederic, though only sixteen years old, had the gallantry to offer himself as your champion to pursue and deliver you." "Can I wonder at his generosity and heroism, my dear Sir," answered she, "born of such a mother, and possessing doubtless the virtues of his family? No; I am already prepossessed in his favor; I know he must resemble my charming Countess."
She forebore speaking of Lord Delby, that she might not be obliged to ask for the Countess, his sister, as she concluded the marriage must have taken place long ago.
The Complete Northanger Horrid Novel Collection (9 Books of Gothic Romance and Horror) Page 24
