to a grief which knew no bounds, and
which preyed with the greater feirceness on his soul, as he had no
friend to whom he could disburden it. The baron's estrang'd behaviour
was no small addition to his other discontents, and he lamented the
cruel necessity which had enforced him to disoblige a person to whom he
owed so many favours, and whose advice would now have been the greatest
consolation.

He could not now hope Charlotta would be permitted to come to St.
Germains, and doubted not but her father would take effectual methods to
prevent her visiting at any place where even accident might occasion a
meeting between them: he knew the watch had been set over her on the
account of monsieur de Coigney, and might be assured it would not now be
less strict, and that it would be equally impossible for either to
communicate their thoughts by writing as it was to see each other.

He was in the midst of these reflections when he heard, by some people
who were acquainted with the baron de Palfoy, that he had sent his
daughter away, but none knew where: this, instead of lessening his
despair, was a very great aggravation of it:--he imagined she was
confined in some monastry, and was not insensible of the difficulties
that attend seeing a young lady who is sent there purposely to avoid the
world; yet, said he to himself, could I be happy enough to discover even
to what province she was carried, I would go from convent to convent
till I had found which of them contained her.

It was in vain that he made all possible enquiry: every one he asked was
in reality as ignorant as himself.--The baron de Palfoy had trusted
none, so could not be deceived but by those persons who had the charge
of conducting her, and of their fidelity he had many proofs. Yet how
impossible is it for human prudence to resist the decrees of fate.--The
secret was betrayed, without any one being guilty of accusing the
confidence reposed in them, and by the strangest accident that perhaps
ever was, Horatio learned all he wished to know when he had given over
all his endeavours for that purpose, and was totally despairing of it.

He came one day to Paris, in order to alleviate his melancholy, in the
company of some young gentlemen, who had expressed a very great regard
for him; but his mind being taken up with various and perplexed thoughts
on his entrance into that city, he mistook his way, and turned into the
rue St. Dennis instead of the rue St. Honore, whe