The Adventures of Ferdinand Count Fathom — Complete
While the young lady rehearsed the particulars of this detail, Renaldo
sustained a strange vicissitude of different passions. Surprise,
sorrow, fear, hope, and indignation raised a most tumultuous conflict
in his bosom. Monimia rushed upon his imagination in the character of
innocence betrayed by the insinuations of treachery. He with horror
viewed her at the mercy of a villain, who had broken all the ties of
gratitude and honour.
Affrighted at the prospect, he started from his seat, exclaiming, in
the most unconnected strain of distraction and despair, “Have I then
nourished a serpent in my bosom! Have I listened to the voice of a
traitor, who hath murdered my peace! who hath torn my heart-strings
asunder, and perhaps ruined the pattern of all earthly perfection. It
cannot be. Heaven would not suffer such infernal artifice to take
effect. The thunder would be levelled against the head of the accursed
projector.”
From this transport, compared with his agitation when he mentioned
Monimia, his sister judged that Fathom had been the occasion of a
breach between the two lovers; and this conjecture being confirmed by
the disjointed answers he made to her interrogations upon the affair,
she endeavoured to calm his apprehensions, by representing that he
would soon have an opportunity of returning to England, where the
misunderstanding might be easily cleared up; and that, in the meantime,
he had nothing to fear on account of the person of his mistress, in a
country where individuals were so well protected by the laws and
constitution of the realm. At length he suffered himself to be
flattered with the fond hope of seeing Monimia’s character triumph in
the inquiry, of retrieving that lost jewel, and of renewing that
ravishing intercourse and exalted expectation which had been so cruelly
cut off. He now wished to find Fathom as black as he had been
exhibited, that Monimia’s apostasy might be numbered among the
misrepresentations of his treachery and fraud.
His love, which was alike generous and ardent, espoused the cause, and
he no longer doubted her constancy and virtue. But when he reflected
how her tender heart must have been wrung with anguish at his
unkindness and cruelty, in leaving her destitute in a foreign land; how
her sensibility must have been tortured in finding herself altogether
dependent upon a ruffian, who certainly harboured the most baleful
designs upon her honour; how her life must be endangered both by his
barbarity and her own despair—I say, when he reflected on these
circumstances, he shuddered with horror and dismay; and that very night
despatched a letter to his friend the Jew, entreating him, in the most
pressing manner, to employ all his intelligence in learning the
situation of the fair orphan, that she might be protected from the
villany of Fathom, until his return to England.
CHAPTER SIXTY
HE RECOMPENSES THE ATTACHMENT OF HIS FRIEND; AND RECEIVES A LETTER THAT
REDUCES HIM TO THE VERGE OF DEATH AND DISTRACTION.
This step being taken, his mind in some measure retrieved its former
tranquillity. He soothed himself with the prospect of a happy
reconciliation with the divine Monimia, and his fancy was decoyed from
every disagreeable presage by the entertaining conversation of his
sister, with whom in two days he set out for Presburg, attended by his
friend the Major, who had never quitted him since their meeting at
Brussels. Here they found Count Trebasi entirely rid of the fever which
had been occasioned by his wound, and in a fair way of doing well; a
circumstance that afforded unspeakable pleasure to Melvil, whose manner
of thinking was such, as would have made him unhappy, could he have
charged himself with the death of his mother’s husband, howsoever
criminal he might have been.
The Count’s ferocity did not return with his health. His eyes were
opened by the danger he had incurred, and his sentiments turned in a
new channel. He heartily asked pardon of Mademoiselle for the rigorous
usage she had suffered from the violence of his temper; thanked Renaldo
for the seasonable lesson he had administered to him; and not only
insisted upon being removed from the castle to a house of his own in
Presburg, but proffered to make immediate restitution of all the rents
which he had unjustly converted to his own use.
These things being settled in the most amicable manner, to the entire
satisfaction of the parties concerned, as well as of the neighbouring
noblesse, among whom the house of Melvil was in universal esteem,
Renaldo resolved to solicit leave at the Imperial court to return to
England, in order to investigate that affair of Monimia, which was more
interesting than all the points he had hitherto adjusted. But, before
he quitted Presburg, his friend Farrel taking him aside one day,
“Count,” said he, “will you give me leave to ask, if, by my zeal and
attachment for you, I have had the good fortune to acquire your
esteem?” “To doubt that esteem,” replied Renaldo, “were to suspect my
gratitude and honour, of which I must be utterly destitute before I
lose the sense of those obligations I owe to your gallantry and
friendship—obligations which I long for a proper occasion to repay.”
“Well then,” resumed the Major, “I will deal with you like a downright
Swiss, and point out a method by which you may shift the load of
obligation from your own shoulders to mine. You know my birth, rank,
and expectations in the service; but perhaps you do not know, that, as
my expense has always unavoidably exceeded my income, I find myself a
little out at elbows in my circumstances, and want to piece them up by
matrimony. Of those ladies with whom I think I have any chance of
succeeding, Mademoiselle de Melvil seems the best qualified to render
my situation happy in all respects. Her fortune is more than sufficient
to disembarrass my affairs; her good sense will be a seasonable check
upon my vivacity; her agreeable accomplishments will engage a
continuation of affection and regard. I know my own disposition well
enough to think I shall become a most dutiful and tractable husband;
and shall deem myself highly honoured in being more closely united to
my dear Count de Melvil, the son and representative of that worthy
officer under whom my youth was formed. If you will therefore sanction
my claim, I will forthwith begin my approaches, and doubt not, under
your auspices, to bring the place to a capitulation.”
Renaldo was pleased with the frankness of this declaration, approved of
his demand, and desired him to depend upon his good offices with his
sister, whom he sounded that same evening upon the subject,
recommending the Major to her favour, as a gentleman well worthy of her
choice. Mademoiselle, who had never been exercised in the coquetries of
her sex, and was now arrived at those years when the vanity of youth
ought to yield to discretion, considered the proposal as a philosopher,
and after due deliberation candidly owned she had no objection to the
match. Farrel was accordingly introduced in the character of a lover,
after the permission of the Countess had been obtained; and he carried
on his addresses in the usual form, so much to the satisfaction of all
concerned in the event, that a day was appointed for the celebration of
his nuptials, when he entered into peaceable possession of his prize.
A few days after this joyful occasion, while Renaldo was at Vienna,
where he had been indulged with leave of absence for six months, and
employed in making preparations for his journey to Britain, he was one
evening presented by his servant with a package from London, which he
no sooner opened, than he found enclosed a letter directed to him, in
the handwriting of Monimia. He was so much affected at sight of those
well-known characters, that he stood motionless as a statue, eager to
know the contents, yet afraid to peruse the billet. While he hesitated
in this suspense, he chanced to cast his eye on the inside of the
cover, and perceived the name of his Jewish friend at the bottom of a
few lines, importing, that the enclosed was delivered to him by a
physician of his acquaintance, who had recommended it in a particular
manner to his care. This intimation served only to increase the
mystery, and whet his impatience; and as he had the explanation in his
hand, he summoned all his resolution to his aid, and, breaking the
seal, began to read these words: “Renaldo will not suppose that this
address proceeds from interested motives, when he learns, that, before
it can be presented to his view, the unfortunate Monimia will be no
more.”
Here the light forsook Renaldo’s eyes, his knees knocked together, and
he fell at full length insensible on the floor. His valet, hearing the
noise, ran into the apartment, lifted him upon a couch, and despatched
a messenger for proper assistance, while he himself endeavoured to
recall his spirits by such applications as chance afforded. But before
the Count exhibited any signs of life, his brother-in-law entered his
chamber by accident, and as soon as he recollected himself from the
extreme confusion and concern produced by this melancholy spectacle, he
perceived the fatal epistle, which Melvil, though insensible, still
kept within his grasp; justly suspecting this to be the cause of that
severe paroxysm, he drew near the couch, and with difficulty read what
is above rehearsed, and the sequel, to this effect:—
“Yes, I have taken such measures as will prevent it from falling into
your hands, until after I shall have been released from a being
embittered with inexpressible misery and anguish. It is not my
intention, once loved, and ah! still too fondly remembered youth, to
upbraid you as the source of that unceasing woe which hath been so long
the sole inhabitant of my lonely bosom. I will not call you inconstant
or unkind. I dare not think you base or dishonourable; yet I was
abruptly sacrificed to a triumphant rival, before I had learned to bear
such mortification; before I had overcome the prejudices which I had
imbibed in my father’s house. I was all at once abandoned to despair,
to indigence, and distress, to the vile practices of a villain, who, I
fear, hath betrayed us both. What have not I suffered from the insults
and vicious designs of that wretch, whom you cherished in your bosom!
Yet to these I owe this near approach to that goal of peace, where the
canker-worm of sorrow will expire. Beware of that artful traitor; and,
oh! endeavour to overcome that levity of disposition, which, if
indulged, will not only stain your reputation, but also debauch the
good qualities of your heart. I release you, in the sight of Heaven,
from all obligations. If I have been injured, let not my wrongs be
visited on the head of Renaldo, for whom shall be offered up the last
fervent prayers of the hapless Monimia.”
This letter was a clue to the labyrinth of Melvil’s distress. Though
the Major had never heard him mention the name of this beauty, he had
received such hints from his own wife, as enabled him to comprehend the
whole of the Count’s disaster. By the administration of stimulating
medicines, Renaldo recovered his perception; but this was a cruel
alternative, considering the situation of his thoughts. The first word
he pronounced was Monimia, with all the emphasis of the most violent
despair. He perused the letter, and poured forth incoherent execrations
against Fathom and himself. He exclaimed, in a frantic tone, “She is
lost for ever! murdered by my unkindness! We are both undone by the
infernal arts of Fathom! execrable monster! Restore her to my arms. If
thou art not a fiend in reality, I will tear out thy false heart.”
So saying, he sprung upon his valet, who would have fallen a sacrifice
to his undistinguishing fury, had not he been saved by the