on; but news after news continually arriving of the king of
Sweden's ill success in Ukrania, rendered all the noble friends of
Horatio extremely dissatisfied:--the public accounts were too deficient
for their information of any particular officer, and as there were very
few French in the Swedish army, they could hope for no intelligence of
him but from himself; which, as he omitted giving, they at last
concluded he was either killed or taken prisoner; which last misfortune
they looked upon as equal with the former:--the Russian barbarity, and
their manner of treating those whom the chance of war threw into their
hands, was no secret thro' all Europe; and whichever of these accidents
had happened, must be very grievous to a gentleman of Dorilaus's
disposition, who, when unknowing he was his son, loved him with more
tenderness than many fathers do their offspring, but now convinced not
only that he was so, but also that he was possessed of such amiable
qualities as might do honour to the most illustrious race, had fixed an
idea in his mind of such a lasting happiness in having him near him,
that the thoughts of being deprived of him for ever threw him into a
melancholy, which not all the friends he had acquired in Paris, not all
the gaieties of that place, nor the sweet society of the engaging and
dutiful Louisa, had the power to console. So deep was his affliction,
that monsieur du Plessis, amorous and impatient as he was, had not
courage to urge a grant of his own happiness, while those who were to
bestow it, were incapable of sharing any part of it.

Soon after there arrived a thunder-clap indeed:--certain intelligence
that the once victorious Charles was totally overthrown, his whole army
either cut to pieces or taken prisoners, and himself a fugitive in the
grand seignior's dominions.--Dorilaus, now not doubting but the worst he
feared had come to pass, shut himself from all company, and refused the
unavailing comfort of those who came to offer it.--The fair eyes of
Louisa were continually drowned in tears, and the generous du Plessis
sympathized in all her griefs. But what became of mademoiselle Charlotta
de Palfoy! her tender soul, so long accustomed to love Horatio, had not
courage to support the shock of losing him;--losing him at a time when
she thought herself secure of being united to him for ever;--when his
discovered birth had rendered her father's wishes conformable to her
own, and there wanted nothing but