FROM a very singular publication, which few of our readers will have an opportunity of seeing, we give the following story. It will be necessary to preface it by narrating a few particu­lars which are intimately connected with the history.

It was in the year 1783 that the baron de Faublas arrived in Paris, where he had resolved to place his daughter in a convent. He was accompanied by his son the chevalier de Faublas. After remaining some weeks in the capital, the baron, by the per­suasion of his intimate friend, M. Duportail, came to the resolution of residing some years in Paris, for the purpose of giving the best education to the only heir of his name, and of superintending the [Page 4] happiness of a daughter whom he loved. The young chevalier was soon initiated into all the fashionable dissipation of the metropolis; his accomplishments were the admiration of the other sex, and the envy of his own. But while indulging in these criminal pursuits, a passion of a purer kind possessed the empire of his heart. In the course of his visits to the convent, he had seen and loved mademoiselle Sophia de Pontis, the amiable friend of his sister. The heart of Sophia yielded to the attractions of the chevalier; their passions was reciprocal. The baron was not long ignorant of their attachment; his son's visits to the convent were prohibited, and he was given to understand, that the daughter of M. Duportail was destined for his wife. What little he knew of this lady he had [...] from having overheard a conversation be­tween M. Duportail and his father, from which it appeared, that the former had long mourned a lost daughter. He farther understood, that as soon as his education was completed at Paris, it was his father's intention that he should set out on his travels; that he was to remain for some months in Poland, and that during his residence in that country, he was to be employed in making enquiry respecting the fate of the daughter of M. Duportail, and if she yet lived, in endeavouring to restore her to her afflicted father. An opportunity was soon [Page 5] after embraced by M. Duportail of communicating to the chevalier the particulars of his story, which we now present to our readers.

My history presents a frightful example of the instability of fortune. It is indeed very flattering, but it is also sometimes very dangerous, to have an ancient title to sustain and a large estate to pre­serve. The sole descendant of an illustrious family, whose origin is lost in the darkness of remote ages, I have a right to aspire to, and to occupy the first employments in the republic which gave me birth, and yet I behold myself condemned to languish in a foreign country, amidst an indolent and inglorious obscurity.

The name of Lovzinski is honourably mentioned in the annals of Poland, and that name is about to perish with myself: I know that an austere philosophy either rejects or despises vain titles and corrupting riches, and perhaps I should console myself if I had lost only these; but, my young friend, I weep for an adored spouse, I search after a beloved daughter, and I shall never more re-visit my native land. What courage is capable of opposing griefs like mine?

My father, the baron de Lovzinski, still more distinguished by his virtues than by his rank, enjoyed that consideration at court, which the [Page 6] favour of the prince always confers, and which personal merit sometimes obtains. He bestowed all the attention of a tender parent on the educa­tion of my two sisters; and in regard to mine, he occupied himself with the zeal of a man of family, jealous of the honour of his house, of which I was the sole hope, and with the activity of a good citizen, who desires nothing so ardently as to leave to the state a successor worthy of him.

While I was pursuing my studies at Warsaw, the young P— ^* distinguished himself among the rest of my companions by the most amiable qualities. To the charms of a person at once noble and engaging, he joined the graces of a cultivated understanding. The uncommon address which he displayed among us young warriors; that rare mo­desty with which he seemed desirous to conceal his own merit from himself, on purpose to exalt the abilities of his less fortunate rivals, who were generally vanquished by him in all our exercises; the urbanity of his manners, and the sweetness of his disposition, fixed the attention, commanded the esteem, and rendered him the darling of that [Page 7] illustrious band of young nobility, who partook of our studies and our pleasures.

To say that it was the resemblance of our characters, and the sympathy of our dispositions that occasioned my attachment to M. de P. would be to pay myself too flattering a compliment; however that may be, we both lived together in the most intimate familiarity.

How happy, but how fleeting is that time of life, when one is unacquainted with ambition, which sacrifices every thing to the desire of fortune, and the glory that follows in her train, and with love, the supreme power of which absorbs and concen­tres all our faculties upon one sole object! that age of innocent pleasures, and of confident credu­lity, when the heart, as yet a novice, freely follows the impulse of youthful sensibility, and bestows itself unreservedly upon the object of disinterested affection! Then, my dear Faublas, then friendship is not a vain name!

The confident of all the secrets of M. de P—, I myself undertook nothing without first intrusting him with my designs; his councils regu­lated my conduct, mine determined his resolu­tions; our youth had on pleasures which were not shared, no misfortunes which were not solaced by our mutual attachment.

With what chagrin did I not perceive that fatal [Page 8] moment arrive, when my friend, obliged by the commands of a father to depart from Warsaw, prepared to take leave of me! We promised to preserve for ever that lively affection which had constituted the chief happiness of our youth, and I rashly swore that the passions of a more advanced age should never alter it.

What an immense void did the absence of M. de P—leave in my heart! At first it appeared that nothing could compensate for his loss; the tenderness of a father, the caresses of my sisters, affected me but feebly. I thought that no other method remained for me to dissipate the irksome­ness of my situation, than to occupy my leisure moments with some useful pursuit. I therefore cultivated the French language, already esteemed throughout all Europe; I read with delight those famous works, the eternal monuments of genius, which it had produced; and I wondered that, notwithstanding such an ungrateful idiom, so many celebrated poets, so many excellent philosophers and historians, justly immortalized, had been able to distinguish themselves by its means.

I also applied myself seriously to the study of geometry; I formed my mind in a particular manner to the pursuit of that noble profession which makes a hero at the expense of one hundred thousand unfortunates, and which men less [Page 9] humane than valiant have called the grand art of war! Several years were employed in these pur­suits, which are equally difficult and laborious; in short, they solely occupied my thoughts. M. de P—, who often wrote to me, no longer received any but short replies, and our correspon­dence began to languish by neglect, when at length love finished the triumph over friendship.

My father had been for a long time intimately connected with count Pulauski. Celebrated for the austerity of his manners, famous on account of the inflexibility of his virtues, which were truly republican, Pulauski, at once a great captain and a brave soldier, had on more than one occasion signa­lised his fiery courage, and his ardent patriotism.

Instructed in ancient literature, he had been taught by history the great lessons of a noble disin­terestedness, an immovable constancy, an absolute devotion to glory. Like those heroes to whom idolatrous, but grateful Rome, elevated altars, Pulauski would have sacrificed all his property to the prosperity of his country; he would have spilled the last drop of his blood for its defence; he would even have immolated his only, his beloved daughter, Lodoiska.

Lodoiska! how beautiful! how lovely! her dear name is always on my lips, her adored remem­brance will live for ever in my heart!

[Page 10]My friend, from the first moment that I saw this fair maid, I lived only for her; I abandoned my studies; friendship was entirely forgotten. I consecrated all my moments to Lodoiska. My father and her's could not be long ignorant of my attachment; they did not chide me for it;—they must have approved it then. This idea appeared to me to be so well founded, that I delivered myself up, without suspicion, to the sweet passion that enchanted me; and I took my measures so well that I beheld Lodoiska almost daily, either at home, or in company with my sisters, who loved her tenderly:—two sweet years flew away in this manner.

At length Pulauski took me one day aside, and addressed me thus: Your father and myself have formed great hopes of you, which your conduct has hitherto justified; I have long beheld you employing your youth in studies equally useful and honourable. To day—(He here perceived that I was about to interrupt him). What would you say? do you think to tell me any thing that I am unacquainted with? do you think that I have occasion to be the hourly witness of your trans­ports, to learn how much my Lodoiska merits to be beloved! It is because I know as well as you the value of my daughter, that you never shall obtain her but by meriting her. Young man, learn that [Page 11] it is not sufficient that our foibles should be legiti­mate to be excusable! those of a good citizen ought to be turned entirely to the profit of his country; love, even love itself, like the basest of the passions, is either despicable or dangerous, if it does not offer to generous hearts an additional motive to excite them towards honour.

Hear me: Our monarch, for a long time in a sickly habit of body, seems at length to approach towards his end. His life, become every day more precarious, has awakened the ambition of our neighbours. ^* They doubtless prepare to sow divisions among us; and they think, that by over­awing our suffrages, they will be enabled to force upon us a king of their own choosing. Foreign troops have already dared to appear on the fron­tiers of Poland; already two thousand Polish gentlemen have assembled, on purpose to punish their audacious insolence. Go and join yourself with those brave youths; go, and at the end of the campaign, return covered with the blood of our enemies, and shew to Pulauski a son-in-law worthy of him. ^a

I did not hesitate a single moment; my father approved of my resolutions, but being unable to consent without pain to my precipitate departure, [Page 12] he pressed me for a long time against his bosom, while a tender solicitude was depicted in all his looks; his adieus seemed to be inauspicious; the trouble that agitated his heart, seized upon my own; our tears were mingled on his venerable cheeks.

Pulauski, who was present at this moving scene, logically reproached us for what he termed a weakness. Dry up your tears, said he to me, or preserve them for Lodoiska; it belongs only to childish lovers who separate themselves from each other for five or six months, to weep in this manner! He instructed his daughter, in my presence, both of my departure, and of the motives which had determined me to it. (Lodoiska grew pale, sighed, looked at her father with a face suffused with blushes, and then assured me in a trembling voice, that her vows should be offered up for my safe return, and that her happiness depended upon the safety of Lovzinski.)

Encouraged in this manner, what dangers had I to fear? I departed accordingly, but in the course of that campaign, there happened nothing worthy of narration; the enemy, equally careful with ourselves to avoid any action which might pro­duce an open war between the two nations, con­tented themselves with fatiguing us by means of frequent marches: we, on the other hand, bounded [Page 13] our views to following and observing them; and they only seemed to oppose themselves to us, in those parts where the open country afforded them an easy opportunity of making good their retreat.

At the end of the campaign, they prepared to retire, on purpose to take up their winter quarters in their own country; and our little army, com­posed almost wholly of gentlemen, separated soon after.

I returned to Warsaw, full of joy and impa­tience; I thought that Love and Hymen were about to bestow Lodoiska on me.—Alas! I no longer had a father. I learned, on entering the capital, that Lovzinski died of an apoplexy on the night before my arrival. Thus I was deprived of even the sad consolation of receiving the last sighs of the most tender of parents; I could only offer up my sorrows at his tomb, which I bathed with my tears!

—It is not, says Pulauski to me, who was but little moved with my profound sorrow; it is not by means of barren tears that you can do honour to a father such as thine. Poland in him regrets a citizen-hero, who would have been of immense service during the critical moment which now approaches. Worn out with a tedious malady, our monarch has not a fortnight to live, and on [Page 14] the choice of his successor depends the happiness or misery of our fellow-citizens.

Of all the rights which the death of your father transmits to you, the most noble is undoubtedly that of assisting at the diet, in which you are to represent him; it is there where he will revive in you; it is there, where you ought to exhibit a courage infinitely more difficult to be sustained than that which consists only in braving death in the field of battle!

The valour of a soldier is nothing more than a common virtue; but they are not ordinary men who on awful emergencies, preserving a tranquil courage, and displaying an active penetration, discover the projects of the powerful who cabal, disconcert the enterprises of the intriguing, and confront the designs of the factious; who, always firm, incorruptible, and just, give not their suffra­ges but to those whom they think most worthy of them; whom neither gold nor promises can seduce, whom prayers cannot bend, whom menaces cannot terrify.

These were the virtues which distinguished your father, this is the precious inheritance which you ought to be desirous of sustaining. The day on which the states assemble for the election of a king, will be the epoch on which the pretensions of many of our fellow-citizens, more occupied with their [Page 15] private interests than jealous of the prosperity of their country, will be manifested, as well as the pernicious designs of the neighbouring powers, whose cruel policy it is to destroy our strength by dividing it.

I am deceived, my friend, if the fatal moment is not fast approaching, which will for ever fix the destiny of our country—its enemies have conspired its ruin; they have secretly prepared for a revo­lution;—but they shall not consummate their purposes while my arm can sustain a sword! May that God, who is the protector of the republic, prevent all the horrors of a civil war! But that extremity, however frightful it appears, may perhaps become necessary; I flatter myself that it will be but a short, although perhaps a violent crisis, after which the regenerated state will assume its ancient splendor.

You shall second my efforts, Lovzinski; the feeble interests of love ought to disappear before more sacred claims. I cannot present my daughter to you during this awful moment of suspence, when our common country is in danger; but I promise to you, that the first days of peace shall be marked by your union with Lodoiska.

Pulauski did not speak in vain. I felt that I had now more essential duties to fulfil than those of love; but the cares with which my mind was [Page 16] occupied, were hardly able to alleviate my grief. I will even avow to you without blushing, that the sorrow of my sisters, their tender friendship, and the caresses more reserved but no less pleasing of my mistress, made a stronger impression on my heart than the patriotic counsels of Pulauski. I beheld Lodoiska tenderly affected with my irrepa­rable loss, and as much afflicted as myself, at the cruel events which forced us to defer our union; my chagrin, by being thus divided with that lovely woman, seemed insensibly to diminish.

In the mean time the king dies, and the diet is convoked. On the day that it was to open, at the very instant when I was about to repair to the assembly, a stranger presented himself, and desired to speak to me in private. As soon as my attendants were retired, he enters my apartment with pre­cipitation, throws himself into my arms, and tenderly embraces me. It was M. de P—! Ten years, which had elapsed since our separation, had not so much changed his features as to prevent me from recognising him, and testifying my joy and surprise at his unexpected return.

You will be more astonished, says he to me, when you know the cause. I have arrived this instant, and am about to repair to the meeting of the diet;—would it be presuming too much on your friendship to reckon on your vote?

[Page 17]On my vote! and for whom?

For myself, continues he with vivacity; it is not now time to recount to you the happy revolution that has taken place in my fortune, and which at present permits me to entertain such exalted hopes: it is sufficient to observe, that my ambition is at least justified by a majority of suffrages, and that it is in vain that two feeble rivals would attempt to dispute with me the crown to which I pretend.

Lovzinski, adds he, embracing me again, if you were not my friend, and if I esteemed you less, perhaps I should endeavour to dazzle you by means of promises; perhaps I should recount to you the favours which I intend to heap upon you; the honourable distinctions that are reserved for you, and the noble and glorious career that is about to offer itself to your ambition;—but I have not any need of seducing, and I only wish to persuade you.

I behold it with grief, and you know it as well as myself, that for several years past our Poland, become enfeebled, owes its safety to nothing else than the distrust of the three great powers ^* which surround it, and the desire to enrich them­selves with our spoils may in one moment reunite our divided enemies!

[Page 18]Let us prevent, if we can, this inauspicious triumvirate from dismembering the republic. Undoubtedly, in more fortunate times, our ancestors were able to maintain the freedom of their elections; it is necessary however that we should yield to that necessity which is become inevitable.

Russia will necessarily protect a king, whom she herself has elevated; in receiving the sovereign of her choice, you will defeat the views of that triple alliance which will render our perdition certain, and we shall acquire a powerful ally, who will oppose herself with success to the two enemies that remain to us.

These are reasons which have determined my conduct; I do not abandon part of our rights, but to preserve the most precious of them. I wish not to ascend a fickle throne, but with the intention, by means of a sage policy, to give it stability; I consent not to alter the constitution of the commonwealth, but to preserve the kingdom entire.

We repaired to the diet together; I voted for M. de P—. He in effect obtained the ma­jority of the suffrages; but Pulauski, Zaremba, and some others, declared themselves in favour of prince C—. Nothing was decided amidst the tumult of this first meeting.

[Page 19]When the assembly broke up, M. de P— invited me to accompany him to the palace, which his secret emissaries had already prepared for him in the capital. ^* We shut ourselves up together during several hours, and renewed the promises of a friendship that should endure for ever. I then too informed M. de P— of my intimate connection with Pulauski, and of my love for Lodoiski. He repaid my confidence with more important communications; he informed me of the events which had led to his approaching grandeur; he explained to me his secret designs; and I left him, convinced that he was less occupied with the desire of his own elevation, than with that of restoring Poland to its ancient prosperity.

Possessed of these ideas, I flew towards my future father-in-law, burning with the desire of adding him to the party of my friend. Pulauski was walking at a great pace up and down the chamber of his daughter, who appeared equally agitated with himself.

Behold, said he to Lodoiska, the moment that he saw me enter, behold that man whom I esteem, and whom you love! He has sacrificed us both to his blind friendship. I was desirous to reply, but [Page 20] he went on—You have been connected from your childhood with M. de P—. A powerful faction is about to place him on the throne; you know you are acquainted with his designs; this very morning at the diet, you voted for him—you have deceived me:—but do you think that you shall deceive me with impunity?

I besought him to hear me, and be constrained himself so far as to preserve a stern silence: I then informed him, that M. de P—, whom I had for a long time neglected, had agreeably surprised me by his unexpected return.

Lodoiska appeared charmed to hear me com­mence my justification—You shall not deceive me in the same manner as if I were a credulous woman, says Pulauski.—But it signifies not—proceed.

I then recounted to him the particulars of the short conversation that I had with M. de P— before I repaired to the assembly of the states.

And these are your projects! exclaimed he. M. de P— sees no other remedy for the misfortunes of his fellow-citizens than their slavery! He pro­poses this; one of the name of Lovzinski, approves of it; and they despise me so much as to tempt me to enter into this infamous plot! Shall I behold the Russians commanding in our provinces in the name of a Pole?

The Russians, say I with fury; the Russians reign [Page 21] in my country! On this Pulauski, advancing towards me with the greatest impetuosity, cries out: Perfidious youth! you have deceived me, and you would betray the state! Leave my house this very moment, or know that I shall order you to be dragged out of it!

I frankly ackowledge to you, Faublas, that an affront so cruel, and so little merited, disarmed me of my prudence: in the first transports of my fury, I placed my hand upon my sword; and quicker than lightning Pulauski brandished his in the air.

His daughter, his distracted daughter, rushed forward, and precipitated herself upon me, crying out, Lovzinski, what are you about to do? On hearing the accents of a voice so dear to me, I recalled my wandering reason; but I perceived that a single instant was about forever to bereave me of my Lodoiska! She had left me to throw herself into the arms of her father. He, cruel man, beheld my grief, and strove to augment it: Go, traitor! says he—begone—you behold Lodoiska for the last time!

I returned home in a state of desperation. The odious names which Pulauski had lavished on me, returned unceasingly to my reflection. The in­terests of Poland, and those of M. de P—, appeared to be so intimately connected together, [Page 22] that I did not perceive in what manner I could betray my fellow-citizens by serving my friend; in the mean time, I was obliged either to abandon him or renounce Lodoiska forever. What was I to resolve? what part should I take? I passed the whole night in a state of the most cruel uncer­tainty; and when the day appeared, I went towards Pulauski's house, without yet having come to any determination.

The only domestic who remained there informed me, that his lord had departed at the beginning of the night, with his daughter, after having first dismissed all his people. Think of my despair on hearing these news. I asked to what part Pulauski had retired, but my question was in vain, for he informed me that he was entirely ignorant of the place of his destination.

All that I can tell you, says he, is, that you had scarce gone away yesterday evening, when we heard a great noise in the apartment of his daughter▪ Still terrified at the scene which had taken place between you, I approached the door, and listened. Lodoiska wept: her furious father overwhelmed her with injuries, bestowed his malediction upon her, and I myself heard him exclaim: To love a traitor is to be one! Ungrateful wretch! I shall conduct you to a place of safety, where you shall henceforth be at a distance from seduction.

[Page 23]Could I any longer doubt the extent of my misery? I instantly called for Boleslas, one of the most faithful of my domestics: I ordered him to place trusty spies about the palace of Pulauski, who should bring an account of every thing that passed there; and commanded that if the count returned to the capital before me, he should follow him wherever he went. Having given these instructions, and not yet despairing of still finding the family at one of their seats in the neighbourhood of the metropolis, I myself set out in pursuit of my mistress.

I accordingly searched through all the domains of Pulauski, and asked concerning Lodoiska, of all the passengers whom I met, but without success. After having spent eight days in fruitless enquiry, I resolved to return to Warsaw, and I was not a little astonished, on my arrival, to find a Ruffian army encamped on the banks of the Vistula, almost under the very walls of that city.

It was night when I entered the capital: the palaces of the grandees were all illuminated; an immense multitude filled the streets; I heard songs of joy: I beheld wine flowing in rivulets in the public squares; every thing announced to me that Poland had a king.

Boleslas, who expected me with impatience, informed me that Pulauski had returned alone on [Page 24] the second day after my departure; and that he had not stirred from his own palace but to repair to the diet, where in spite of his efforts, the ascendancy of Ruffia became every day more manifest. During the last assembly held this very morning, adds he, M. de P— united almost all the suffrages in his favour, and was about to be declared king, when Pulauski pro­nounced the fatal vote: at that instant twenty sabres were brandished in the air. The fierce palatine of —, whom the count had insulted in the former assembly, was the first to rush forwarde, and gave him a terrible wound on the head. Zaremba, and some others, flew to the defence of their friend; but all their efforts would have been unable to have saved him, if M. de P—, had not ranged himself on their side, exclaiming at the same time, that he would sacrifice, with his own hand, the first person who dared to approach him. On this the assailants retired. In the mean time Pulauski, fainting with the loss of blood, was carried off the field in a state of insensibility. Zaremba departed also, swearing to avenge his friend. Having thus become master of the deliberations, the numerous partisans of M. de P— instantly proclaimed him sovereign.

Pulauski, who had been carried to his palace, [Page 25] was soon restored to life; and the surgeon who attended him, declared that his wounds, although dangerous, were not mortal. In that state, although languishing under the most cruel torments, con­trary to the advice of all his friends, he ordered himself to be lifted into a carriage, and before noon he left Warsaw, accompanied by Mazeppa and a few mal-contents.

It was scarce possible to have announced worse news to me. My friend was upon the throne, but my reconciliation with Pulauski appeared henceforth impossible, and in all appearance Lo­doiska was lost for ever. I knew her father so well as to be under apprehensions left he should proceed to extremities with his daughter. I was affrighted at the present, I durst not look forward towards the future; and my heart was so devoured with chagrin, that I did not go out, even to felici­tate the new king.

One of my people Boleslas dispatched after Pulauski, returned at the end of the fourth day: he had followed him fifteen leagues from the capital; when about that distance, Zaremba, who perceived a stranger at a little distance from the carriage, began to conceive suspicions. As they proceeded, four of his followers, who had concealed them­selves behind the ruins of an old house, surprised my courier, and conducted him to Pulauski. [Page 26] He, with a pistol in his hand, forced him to acknowledge to whom he belonged. I shall send you back to Lovzinski, said the fierce republican, on purpose to announce from me, that he shall not escape my just vengeance. At these words they blind-folded my servant, who could not tell where they had carried him. At the end of four and twenty hours they returned, and tying a handkerchief once more about his eyes, they put him into a carriage, which having stopped at length after a journey of several hours, he was ordered to descend. Scarce had he put his foot upon the ground but his guards departed at a full gallop; on which he removed the bandage, and found himself on the same spot as that on which he had been first arrested.

This intelligence filled me with uneasiness: the menaces of Pulauski terrified me much less on my own account than on Lodoiska's, who remained in his own power: in the midst of his fury he might sacrifice her life! I resolved, therefore, to expose myself to every species of danger, on purpose to discover the retreat of the father, and the prison of his only child.

On the succeeding day, after informing my sisters of my design, I left the capital: Boleslas alone accompanied me, and I passed for his brother. We wandered over all Poland, and I [Page 27] then perceived, that the fears of Pulauski were but too well justified by the event. Under pretence of obliging the inhabitants to take the oath of fidelity to the new king, the Russians, scattered about in the provinces, desolated the country, and committed a multitude of exactions in the cities.

After having spent three months in vain enqui­ries, despairing of being able to find Lodoiska, touched with the most lively grief for the fate of my country, and weeping at one and the same time for her misfortunes and my own, I was about to return to Warsaw, to inform the new king of the excesses committed by those foreigners in his states, when an adventure that at first seemed to be very inauspicious, forced me to a very different resolution.

The Turks having declared war against Russia, the Tartars of Budziac and the Crimea made fre­quent incursions into Volhynia, where I then was. Four of those robbers attacked us one afternoon, as we were leaving a wood near Ostropol. I had imprudently neglected to load my pistols; but I made use of my sabre with so much address and good luck, that in a short time two of them [...] covered with wounds. Boleslas encountered the third; the fourth attacked me with great fury; he gave me a slight cut upon the leg, but received a terrible stroke in return that dismounted him [Page 28] from his horse, and felled him to the ground. Boleslas, at the same moment, perceived himself disencumbered from his enemy, who, at the noise made by his comrade's fall, took to flight. He, whom I had just vanquished, then addressed me in very bad Polish, and said: "A brave man like you, ought to be generous. I beg my life of you; instead of putting me to death, succour me, relieve me, bind up my wounds, and assist me to arise."

He demanded quarter with an air so noble, that I did not hesitate for a moment. I accordingly descended from my horse, and Boleslas and myself having helped him to arise, we dressed his wounds. "You behave well," says the Tartar to me: "you behave well!" As he spoke, we beheld a cloud of dust, and in a moment after, more than three hundred Tartars rushed upon us at full speed. "Be not afraid, dread nothing," says he, whom I had spared; "I am chief of this troop." Accordingly, by means of a sign, he stops his followers, who were on the point of massacreing us; and speaking to them in their own language, which I was unable to comprehend; they instantly opened their ranks on purpose to permit us to pass.

Brave man, exclaims their captain, addressing himself to me once more, had I not reason to say, that you behaved well? You left me my life, and I now save your's: it is sometimes right to [Page 29] spare an enemy, and even a robber! Hear me, my friend: in attacking you, I followed my profession, and you did your duty in conquering me; let us therefore embrace.—He then adds: the day is wasting, and I would not advise you to travel in these cantons during the present night. My people are about to repair each to his respective post, and I cannot answer for their discretion. You per­ceive a castle on a rising ground, towards the right: it belongs to a certain Pole of the name of Dourlinski, for whom we have a right esteem, because he is very rich: Go, demand an asylum from him; tell him that you have wounded Titsi­kan, and that Titsikan pursues you. He is ac­quainted with my name: I have already made him pass many an uneasy night. As to the rest, you may rely on it, that while you remain with him, his castle shall be sacred; but be careful not to come forth on any account before the end of three days, and not to remain there longer than eight.—Adieu!

It was with unfeigned pleasure that we took leave of Titsikan and his companions. The advice of the Tartar was a command; I therefore said to Boleslas, let us immediately make for the castle that he has now pointed out to us; I am well acquainted with this same Dourlinski by name. Pulauski has sometimes spoken to me concerning [Page 30] him; he perhaps is not ignorant of the place to which the count has retired, and it is not im­possible but that with a little address we may be able to draw the secret from him. I shall say at all events that we are sent by Pulauski, and this recommendation will be of more service to us than that of Titsikan: in the mean time, Boleslas, do not forget that I am your brother, and be sure not to discover me.

We soon arrived at the ditch of the castle; the servants of Dourlinski demanded who we were: I answered that we were come from Pulauski, and wished to speak to their lord, and that we had been attacked by robbers, who were still in pursuit of us. The drawbridge was accordingly let down; and having entered, we were informed that at present we could not see Dourlinski, but that on the next day at ten o'clock he should give us audience. They then demanded our arms, which we delivered up without any difficulty, and Boleslas soon after took an opportunity of looking at my wound, which was found to be but superficial.

In a short time a frugal repast was served up for us, in the kitchen. We were afterwards conducted to a lower chamber, where two bad beds were prepared for us. The domestics then left us without any light, and immediately locked the door of the apartment.

[Page 31]I could not close my eyes during the whole night. Titsikan had given me but a slight wound, but that which my heart had received was so very deep! At day break, I became impatient in my prison, and wished to open the shutters, but they were nailed up. I attacked them, however, so vigorously, that the fastening gave way; and I beheld a very fine park. The window being low, I cleared it at a leap, and in a single instant found myself in the gardens of the Polish chieftain.

After having walked about for a few minutes, I sat down on a stone bench, which was placed at the foot of a tower, whose ancient architecture I had been some time considering. I remained for a few seconds enveloped in reflection, when a tile fell at my feet. I thought it had dropped from the roof of this old building; and, to avoid the effects of a similar accident, I went and placed myself at the other end of the seat. A few moments after, a second tile fell by my side. The circumstance appeared surprising: I arose with some degree of inquietude, and attentively exam­ined the tower. I perceived at about twenty-five or thirty feet from the ground, a narrow opening. On this I picked up the tiles which had been thrown at me, and on the first I discovered the following words, written with a bit of plaister.

Lovzinski, is it you! Do you still live!

[Page 32]And on the second these:

Deliver me! save Lodoiska.

It is not possible for you, my dear Faublas, to conceive how many different sentiments occupied my mind at one and the same time: my astonish­ment, my joy, my grief, my embarrassment, cannot be expressed. I examined once more the prison of Lodoiska, and plotted in my own mind how I could procure her liberty. She at length threw down another tile, and I read as follows:

"At midnight, bring me paper, ink, and pens; and to-morrow, an hour after sun-rise, come and receive a letter.—Begone."—

Having returned towards my chamber, I called Boleslas, who assisted me in re-entering through the window. I then informed my faithful servant, of the unexpected accident that had put an end to my wanderings, and redoubled my inqui­etude.

How could I penetrate into this tower? How could we procure arms? By what means were we to deliver Lodoiska from captivity? How could we carry her off under the eye of Dourlinski, in the midst of his people, and from a fortified castle! and supposing that so many obstacles were not unsurmountable, could I attempt such a diffi­cult enterprize during the short delay prescribed by Titsikan?

[Page 33]Did not the Tartar enjoin me to stay with Dourlinski three days, but not to remain longer than eight?

Would it not be to expose ourselves to the attacks of the enemy, to leave this castle before the third, or after the expiration of the eighth day? Should I release my dear Lodoiska from a prison, on purpose to deliver her into the hands of robbers, to be forever separated from her by slavery or by death? This would be a horrible idea!

But wherefore was she confined in such a frightful prison? The letter which she had promised would doubtless instruct me: it was therefore necessary to procure paper, pen and ink. I accord­ingly charged Boleslas with this employment, and began to prepare myself for acting the delicate part of an emissary of Pulauski in the presence of Dourlinski.

It was broad daylight when they came to set us at liberty, and inform us, that Dourlinski was at leisure, and wished to see us.—We accordingly presented ourselves before him with great confi­dence; and we were introduced to a man of about sixty years of age, whose reception was blunt, and whose manners were repu [...]e. He demanded who we were. My brother and myself, replied I, belong to count Pulauski. My master has entrusted me with a secret commission [Page 34] to you. My brother accompanies me on another account. Before I explain, I must be in private, for I am charged not to speak but to you alone.

It is very well, replies Dourlinski: your brother may retire, and you also, addressing him­self to his servants, begone! As to him here (pointing to a person who was his confident) he must remain, and you may speak any thing before him.

Palauski has sent me—I see very well that he has sent you, says the palatine, interrupting me—to demand of you—What?—news of his daughter.—News of his daughter! Did Pulauski say so?—Yes, my lord said that his daughter was here.—I perceived that Dourlinski instantly grew pale; he then looked towards his confident, and surveyed me for some time in silence.

You astonish me, rejoins he at length.—In confiding a secret of this importance to you, it necessarily follows that your master must have been very imprudent.

No more than you, my lord, for have not you also a confident? Grandees would be much to be pitied if they could not rely upon any of their domest [...]. Pulauski has charged me to inform you, that Lovzinski has already searched through a great part of Poland, and that he will undoubt­edly visit these cantons.

[Page 35]If he dares to come here, replies he with great vivacity, I will provide a lodging for him, which he shall inhabit for some time.—Do you know this Lovzinski?

I have often seen him at my master's house in Warsaw.—They say he is handsome.

He is well made, and about my height.

His person?—is prepossessing; it is—

He is a wretch, adds he, interrupting me in a great passion—O that he were but to fall into my hands!

My lord, they say that he is brave—

He! I will wager any sum of money that he is only calculated to seduce women!—O that he would but fall into my hands! Then assuming a less ferocious tone, he continued thus: It is a long time since Pulauski wrote to me—where is he at present?

My lord, I have precise orders not to answer that question: all that I dare to say is, that he has the strongest reasons for neither discovering the place of his retreat, nor writing to any person, and that he will soon come and explain them to you in person.

Dourlinski appeared exceedingly astonished at this information: I even thought that I could discover some symptoms of fear in his counte­nance. At length, looking at his confident, who [Page 36] seemed equally embarrassed with himself, he proceeded. You say that Pulauski will come here soon? Yes, my lord, in about a fortnight, or a little later. On this he again turned to his attendant; but in a short time affecting as much calmness as he had before discovered embarrass­ment:—Return to your master, added he; I am sorry to have nothing but bad news to communicate to him—tell him that Lodoiska is no longer here. I myself became surprised in my turn at this infor­mation. What! my lord, Lodoiska—

Is not longer here, I tell you!—to oblige Pulauski, whom I esteem, I undertook, although with great repugnance, the task of confining his daughter in my castle: nobody but myself and he (pointing to his confident) knew that she was here. It is about a month since we went, as usual, to carry her provisions for the day, but there was nobody to be found in the apartment. I am ignorant how it happened; but what I know well is, that she has escaped, for I have heard nothing of her since.—She must undoubtedly have gone to join Lovzinski at Warsaw, if perchance the Tartars have not intercepted her in her journey.

My astonishment on this became extreme. How could I reconcile that which I had seen in the garden, with that which Dourlinski now told me? There was some mystery in this business, [Page 37] which I became exceedingly impatient to be acquainted with: I was however extremely careful not to exhibit any appearance of doubt. My lord, said I, this is bad news for my master!—Undoubt­edly, but it is not my fault.

My lord, I have a favour to ask of you.

Let me hear it.—The Tartars are ravaging the neighbourhood of your castle—they attacked us—we escaped, as it were, by a miracle. Will you permit my brother and myself to remain here only for the space of two days?

For two days only I give my consent.

Where do they lodge? says he to his attendant. In an apartment below ground, was the reply.

Which overlooks my gardens? rejoins Dour­linski, interrupting him with great agitation.

The shutters are well fastened, adds the other.

No matter—You must put them elsewhere. These words made me tremble.

It is not possible, but—continues the confi­dent, and then whispered the rest of the sentence in his ear.

Right, says the baron; and let it be done instantly. Then, addressing himself to me, he says, your brother and you must depart the day after to-morrow; before you go you shall see me again, and I will give you a letter for Pulauski.

I then went to rejoin Boleslas in the kitchen, [Page 38] where he was at breakfast, who soon after pre­sented me with a little bottle full of ink, several pens, and some sheets of paper, which he had procured without difficulty. I panted with desire to write to Lodoiska; and the only difficulty that now remained, was to find a commodious place, where I might not be discovered by the curiosity of Dourlinski's people.

They had already informed Boleslas that we could not again be admitted into the apartment where we had spent the preceding night, until the time should arrive when we were to retire to rest. I soon, however, bethought myself of a stratagem which succeeded to admiration.

The servants were drinking with my pretended brother, and politely invited me to help them to empty a few flasks.

I swallowed, with a good grace, several glasses of bad wine in succession: in a few minutes my legs seemed to totter under me; my tongue faultered: I related a hundred pleasant and improbable tales to the joyous company; in a word, I acted the drunken man so well, that Boleslas himself became a dupe to my scheme, and actually trembled lest, in a moment when I seemed disposed to commu­nicate every thing, my secret should escape.

Gentlemen, said he, to the astonished bacchanals, my brother's head is not very strong to-day; it is [Page 39] perhaps in consequence of his wound; let us not therefore, either speak to or drink any more with him; for I am afraid of his health, and indeed you would oblige me exceedingly if you would assist me to carry him to his bed.—To his own bed? says one of them, that is impossible! But I will most willingly lend him my chamber. They accordingly laid hold of me, and conveyed me into a garret, of which a bed, a table, and a chair formed the sole movables. Having shut me up in this paltry apartment, they instantly left me. This was all that I wanted, for the moment that I was alone, I immediately sat down to write a long letter to Lodoiska.

I began, by fully justifying myself from the crimes of which I had been accused by Pulauski: I then recounted every thing that had occured since the first moment of our separation, until that when I had entered the castle of Dourlinski: I detailed the particulars of my conversation with the baron: I concluded, by assuring her of the most tender and the most respectful passion, and swore to her, that the moment she gave me the necessary information concerning her situation, I would expose myself to every danger in order to finish her horrid captivity.

As soon as my letter was sealed, I delivered myself up to a variety of reflections, which threw [Page 40] me into a strange perplexity. Was it actually Lodoiska who had thrown those tiles into the garden? Would Pulauski have had the injustice to punish his daughter for an attachment which he himself had approved? Would he have had the inhumanity to plunge her into a frightful prison? And even if the hatred he had sworn to me, had blinded him so much, how was it possible, that Dourlinski would thus have condescended to have become the minister of his vengeance?

But, on the other hand, for these three last long months, on purpose to disguise myself, I had only worn tattered clothes: the fatigues of a tedious journey, and my chagrin, had altered me greatly; and who but a mistress could have been able to discover Lovzinski in the gardens of Dourlinski? Besides, had I not seen the name of Lodoiska traced upon the tile? Had not Dourlinski himself acknowledged that Lodoiska had been a prisoner with him? Is it true, he had added that she had made her escape; but was not this incredible? And wherefore that hatred which Dourlinski had avowed against me, without knowing my person? What occasioned that look of inquietude, when it was told him, that the emissaries of Pulauski occupied a chamber that looked into his garden? And why, above all, that appearance of terror, when I announced to him the approaching arrival of my pretended master?

[Page 41]All these circumstances were well calculated to throw me into the greatest agitation. I ruminated over this frightful and mysterious adventure, which it was impossible for me to explain. For two hours, I unceasingly put new questions to myself, to which I was exceedingly embarrassed to make any reply; when at length Boleslas came to see if I had recovered from my debauch. I had but little difficulty in convincing him that my inebriety was mere affectation; after which we went down together▪ to the kitchen, where we spent the rest of the day. What a night!—My dear Faublas, no one in my whole life ever appeared so long, not even that which followed.

At length the attendants conducted us to our chamber, where they shut us up, as on the former occasion, without any light: it was yet two tedious hours until midnight. At the first stroke of the clock, we gently opened the shutters and the casement. I then prepared to jump into the gar­den; but my embarrassment was equal to my despair, when I found myself obstructed by means of iron bars. "Behold," said I to Boleslas, "what the cursed confident of Dourlinski whispered in his ear! behold what his odious master approved, when he said, let it be done instantly! behold what they have been working at during the day! it was [Page 42] on this account that they prevented us from entering the chamber."

"My lord, they have stood on the outside," replied Boleslas; "for they have not perceived that the shutter has been forced."

"Alas! whether they have perceived [...] or not," exclaimed I, with violence, "what does it signify? This fatal grating destroys all my hopes; it insures the slavery of Lodoiska—it insures my death."

"Yes, without doubt, it insures thy death!" repeats a person at the same time opening the door; and immediately after, Dourlinski, preceded by several armed men, and followed by others carrying flambeaux, enters our prison sabre in hand. "Traitor!" exclaims he, while addressing himself to me with a look in which fury was visibly depicted, "I have heard all—I know who you are, —your servant has discovered your name. Trem­ble! Of all the enemies of Lovzinski, I am the most implacable!"

"Search them," continued he, turning to his attendants: they accordingly rushed in upon me; and as I was without arms, I made an useless resistance. They accordingly robbed me of my papers, and of the letter which I had just written to Lodoiska. Dourlinski exhibited a thousand signs of impatience while reading it, and was scarce able to contain himself.

[Page 43]"Lovzinski," says he to me, endeavouring to smother his rage, "I already deserve all your hatred; I shall soon merit it still more: in the mean time, you must remain with your worthy confident in this chamber, to which you are so partial."

After uttering these words, he left me; and having double locked the door, he placed a centinel on the outside, and another in the garden, oppo­site to the window.

Figure to yourself the horrible situation into which Boleslas and myself were now plunged. My misfortunes were at their height; but those of Lodoiska affected me infinitely more than my own! How great must be her uneasiness! She expects Lovzinski, and Lovzinski abandons her! But no—Lodoiska knows me too well; she can never suspect me of such base perfidy. Lodoiska! she will judge of her lover by herself; she will think that Lovzinski partakes her lot, since he does not succour her—Alas! the very certainty of my misfortunes will augment her own.

On the next day, they gave us provisions through the grating of our window; and by the quality of the viands which they furnished us with, Boleslas augured the most sinister events. Being however less unhappy than myself, he supported [Page 44] his fate much more courageously. He offered me my share of the mean repast which he was about to make; I could not eat: he pressed me; but it was in vain! for existence was become an unsupportable burden to me.

"Ah! live! said he at length, shedding a torrent of tears: "live; and if not for Boleslas, let it be for Lodoiska!" These words made the most lively impression upon my mind; they even re-animated my courage: and hope having once more re-entered my heart, I embraced my faithful servant. "O my friend!" exclaimed I at the same time with transport, "my true friend! I have been the occasion of thy ruin, and yet my misfortunes affect thee more than thine own! Yes, Boleslas! yes! I will live for Lodoiska; I will live for thee: if just heaven shall restore me to my fortune and rank, you shall see that your master is not ungrateful!" We now embraced once more.

Ah! my dear Faublas, how much do misfortunes connect men together! how sweet it is, when one suffers, to hear another unfortunate address a word of consolation to him!

We had groaned in this prison for no less than twelve days, when several ruffians came to drag me forth on purpose to conduct me to Dourlinski. Boleslas wished to follow, but they repulsed him [Page 45] with violence: however they permitted me to speak to him for a single moment. I then drew from a private pocket a ring which I had worn for ten years, and said to Boleslas:—"This ring was given me by M. de P. when we were at college together at Warsaw: take it, my friend, and preserve it for my sake. If Dourlinski this day consummates his treason by my assassination, and if he should at length permit you to leave this castle, go, find your king, recal to his memory our ancient attachment, recount my misfortunes to him; he will recompence you, and succour Lodoiska. Adieu, my friend!"

After this, I was conducted to the apartment of Dourlinski. As soon as the door opened, I perceived a lady in a chair, who had just fainted away. I approached her—it was Lodoiska! Heavens! how much did I find her altered!— but she was still handsome! "Barbarian!" ex­claimed I, addressing myself to Dourlinski; and at the voice of her lover, Lodoiska recovered her senses.

"Ah, my dear Lovzinski," says she, looking wistfully at me, "do you know what this infamous wretch has proposed? do you know at what price he has offered me your liberty?"

"Yes," cries the furious chieftain, "yes, I am determined upon it: you see that he is in my [Page 46] power; and if in three days I do not obtain my wishes, he shall be no more!" I endeavoured to throw myself on my knees at the feet of Lodoiska; but my guards prevented me: "I behold you again, and all my ills are forgotten, Lodoiska— death has now no longer any thing terrifying in its aspect!"

"Wretch," added I, looking sternly at Dour­linski, "know that Pulauski will avenge his daughter! know that the king will avenge his friend!"

"Let him be carried away," was the only reply made by the ferocious palatine.

"Ah!" exclaims Lodoiska, "my love has been your ruin!" I was about to answer, but the attendants dragged me out, and re-conducted me to prison.

Boleslas received me with inexpressible transports of joy; he avowed to me that he thought me lost forever, and I recounted to him how my death was but deferred. The scene of which I had just been a witness, confirmed all my suspicions; it was evident that Pulauski was ignorant of the unworthy treatment which his daughter expe­rienced; it was also evident that Dourlinski, old, amorous, and jealous, was determined, at any rate, to satisfy his passions.

In the mean time, two of the days allowed [Page 47] by Dourlinski for the determination of Lodoiska, had already expired; we were now in the midst of the night which preceded the fatal third one; I could not sleep, and I was walking hastily about my prison. All at once I heard the cry of To arms! to arms!" The most frightful howlings prevailed on the outside, and a great commotion took place within the castle. Boleslas and I were able to distinguish the voice of Dourlinski, calling and encouraging his followers; and we soon distinctly heard the clashing of the swords; the cries of the wounded, and the groans of the dying. The noise which at first was very great, seemed at length to die away. It recommenced soon after; it redoubled; and at length we heard the shout of "Victory!"

To this frightful tumult, a still more frightful silence ensues. In a short time a low crackling sound is heard to approach us; the air seems to hiss with violence; the night becomes less dark; the trees in the garden assume a red and warm tint; we fly to the window; the flames are devouring the castle of Dourlinski! They approach the cham­ber in which we were confined, from all sides; and to overwhelm me with new horror, the most piercing shrieks are uttered from the tower in which I knew that Lodoiska was imprisoned!

The fire becoming every moment more violent, [Page 48] was about to communicate to the chamber in which we were shut up, and the flames already began to curl around the base of the tower in which Lodoiska was immured!

Lodoiska uttered the most dreadful groans, to which I answered by cries of fury. Boleslas rushed from one part of the prison to another like a madman; he sent forth the most terrible howlings; he attempted to burst open the door with his hands and feet. As for myself, I remained at the window, and shook, amidst my transports of fury, those massive iron bars which I was unable to bend.

All of a sudden, the domestics, who had lately mounted the battlements, descend with precipita­tion, and open the gates: we heard the voice of Dourlinski himself begging for quarter. The victors instantly precipitate themselves amidst the flames; and being at length attracted by our cries, they force open the door of our prison with their hatchets.

By their dress and their arms, I knew them to be Tartars: their chief arrives—it is Titsikan!

Ah! ah! exclaims he; it is my brave friend!

I instantly threw myself on his neck:—Titsikan! Lodoiska!—a lady!—the fairest of women! —in that tower!—about to be burnt alive!

These were the incoherent expressions by which I made my feelings known.

[Page 49]The Tartar instantly gives the word of com­mand to his soldiers: they fly to the tower: I fly along with them: Boleslas follows us. They burst open the doors; and near to an old pillar we discover a narrow, winding staircase, filled with smoke.

The Tartars, affrighted at the danger, start back: I prepare to ascend.

Alas! what are you about? exclaims Boleslas.

To live or die with Lodoiska!

And I will either live or die with my master! was the reply of my generous servant.

I rush on—he follows me! At the risk of suffocation we ascend about forty steps: by the light of the flames we discover Lodoiska in a corner of her prison; who feebly utters: Who is it that approaches me?

It is Lovzinski! it is your lover!

Joy instantly lends her new strength; she rises and flies into my arms: we carry her away; we descend a few steps; but volumes of smoke now fill the staircase, and we are forced to re-ascend with precipitation. At that very instant too, a part of the tower gives way!—Boleslas utters a dreadful shriek, and Lodoiska falls into a swoon.

Faublas, that which was on the point of destroying, saved us! The flames, formerly smo­thered, began to extend with greater rapidity; [Page 50] but the smoke was dissipated.—Laden with our precious burden, Boleslas and I descend in haste. —My friend, I do not exaggerate; every step trembled under our feet! the walls were all on fire! At length we arrived at the gate of the tower; Titsikan, trembling for our safety, was expecting us there: Brave men! exclaimed he, on seeing us appear again.—I place Lodoiska at his feet, and fall down lifeless by her side!

I remained nearly an hour in this situation. They tremble for my life; and Boleslas weeps aloud. I again recover my senses, on hearing the voice of Lodoiska, who, returning to herself, calls me her deliverer. The appearance of every thing was altered; the tower was entirely in ruins. The Tartars, however, had stopped the progress of the flames; they had destroyed one part of the castle, on purpose to save the re­mainder; in fine, we had been carried into a large saloon, where we were surrounded by Titsikan and some of his soldiers. Others of them were occupied in pillaging and in bringing away the gold, silver, jewels, plate, and all the precious effects which the flames had spared.

Near to us, Dourlinski, loaded with fetters, and uttering repeated groans, beheld this heap of riches, of which he was about to be despoiled. Rage, terror, despair, all the passions which can [Page 51] tear the heart of a villain suffering under punish­ment, were visibly depicted in his wild and wandering looks. He struck the earth with fury, dashed his clenched hands against his forehead, and, uttering the most horrible blasphemies, he reproached heaven for its just vengeance.

In the mean time, my lovely mistress holds my hand clasped in her's. Alas, says she, at length, with tears in her eyes, alas! you have saved my life, and your own is still in danger! Nay, even if we escape death, slavery awaits us!

No, no, Lodoiski, be comforted, Titsikan is not my enemy; Titsikan will put a period to our misfortunes—

Undoubtedly, if I am able, exclaims the Tartar, interrupting me: you are in the right, brave man! (adds he) I see that you are not dead, and I am happy: you always say and do good things; and you have there (turning to Boleslas), you have there a friend who seconds you admirably.

On this I embrace Boleslas:—yes, Titsikan, yes, I have a friend, who shall always be dear to me!—

The Tartar again interrupts me: What! were not you both confined in an apartment below ground, and was not this lady in a tower? What was the reason of this? I will lay any wager, continues he with a smile, that you have taken [Page 52] this female from that old lecher (pointing to Dourlinski) and you are in the right; for he is a dotard, and she is beautiful! Come—inform me of every thing.

I now discover my name to Titsikan, that of Lodoiska's father, and every particular that occur­red to me until that moment. It belongs to Lodoiska, I observe in conclusion, to make us acquainted with what she has been obliged to suffer from the infamous Dourlinski, ever since she has been in his castle!

You know, replies Lodoiska, that my father obliged me to leave Warsaw, on the day that the diet was opened. He first conducted me to the territories of the palatine of —, at only twenty leagues distance from the capital, to which he returned, on purpose to assist at the meeting of the states.

On that very day, when M. de P— was proclaimed king, Pulauski took me from the castle of the palatine, and conducted me here, thinking that I should be better concealed. He charged Dourlinski to guard me with extraordinary strictness; and, above all things, to take especial care to prevent Lovzinski from discovering the place of my retreat. He then left me, as he informed me, on purpose to assemble and to encourage the good citizens to defend his country, [Page 53] and to punish traitors. Alas! these important avocations have made him forget his daughter, for I have never seen him since.

A few days after his departure, I began to perceive, that the visits of Dourlinski had been more frequent than usual; in a short time, he hardly ever quitted the apartment which had been assigned me for a prison. He deprived me, under some trifling pretexts, of the only female attendant, whom my father had left me; and to prevent any person (as he said) from knowing that I was in his castle, he himself brought me the food necessary for my subsistence, and passed whole days along with me.

You cannot conceive, my dear Lovzinski, how much I suffered from die continual presence of a man who was odious to me, and whose infamous designs I was suspicious of; he even dared to explain himself to me one day; but I assured him, that my hate should always be the price of his tenderness, and that his unworthy conduct had drawn upon him my sovereign contempt.

He answered me coldly, that in time I would accustom myself to see him, and to suffer his assiduities; nay, he did not in the least alter his usual conduct, for he entered my chamber in the morning, and never retired until night. Separated from all I loved, I had not even the feeble conso­lation [Page 54] of being able to enjoy the sweet recollection of past happiness. A witness to my misfortunes, Dourlinski took pleasure in augmenting them.

Pulauski, says he to me, commands a body of Polish troops; Lovzinski betraying his country, which he does not love, and a woman concerning whom he is indifferent, serves in the Russian army, where he will be cut off during some bloody engagement: besides, if he survives, it is evident that nothing can ever reconcile your father to him.

A few days after, he came on purpose to announce to me, that Pulauski, during the night, had attacked the Russians in their camp; and that, amidst the confusion that ensued, my lover had fallen by the hand of my father. The cruel pala­tine even made me read a narrative of this event, drawn up with every appearance of truth, in a kind of public gazette, which doubtless he had procured to be printed expressly for the purpose: besides, on perceiving the barbarous joy which he affected on this occasion, I thought the news but too true.

Pitiless tyrant, cried I, you enjoy my tears and my despair; but cease to persecute me, or you will soon see that the daughter of Pulauski is herself able to avenge her own injuries.

One evening that he had left me sooner than usual after I retired to bed, I heard my door [Page 55] open very softly. By the light of a lamp which I kept always burning, I beheld my tyrant advan­cing towards my bed. As there was no crime of which I did not believe him to be capable, I had foreseen this event; and I had even taken measures to render it unsuccessful. I accordingly armed myself with a long, sharp knife, which I had the precaution to conceal beneath my pillow; I overwhelmed the wretch with the reproaches which he so justly merited; and I vowed, if he dared to advance, that I would poignard him with my own hand.

He retired, with surprise and affright visibly delineated on his countenance; I am tired, said he, as he went out, with experiencing nothing but scorn; and if I were not afraid of being overheard, you should soon perceive what a woman's arm could effect against mine! But I know a way of vanquishing your pride! By and by you will think yourself but too happy in being able to purchase your pardon, by the most humi­liating submissions.

He now withdrew. A few moments after, his confident entered with a pistol in his hand. I must, however, do him the justice to say, that he wept while he announced to me the orders of his lord.

Dress yourself, madam; you must instantly [Page 56] follow me!—This was all that he was able to say to me.

He then conducted me to that very tower, where, without you, I should this morning have perished: he shut me up in that horrible prison: it was there that I had languished for more than a month, without fire, without the light of heaven, and almost without clothes; with bread and water for my food; for my bed a few trusses of straw: this was the deplorable state to which the only daughter of a grandee of Poland was reduced!

You shudder, brave stranger, and yet believe me, when I assure you, that I do not recount to you any more than a small part of my sufferings. One thing, however, rendered my misery less insupportable: I no longer beheld my tyrant. While he expected with tranquility that I should solicit my pardon, I passed whole days and nights calling on the name of my father, and in bewailing my lover! * * * * * * * * * O Lovzinski!! with what astonishment was I seized; with what joy was my soul penetrated, on that day when I once more beheld you in the gardens of Dour­linski!! * * * * * * * * * * * * Titsikan was listening to the story of our misfor­tunes, with which he appeared to be deeply [Page 57] affected, when one of his centinels approached, and sounded an alarm. He immediately left us in great haste, on purpose to run to the draw-bridge. We heard a great tumult, and began already to presage some inauspicious event.

While we remained plunged in consternation, —Lovzinski, Lodoiska, cowardly and perfidious pair! exclaims Dourlinski, unable to contain his joy—you have hoped to be able to elude my vengeance, and escape my chastisement. Tremble, you are once more about to fall into my hands. At the noise of my captivity and misfortunes, the neighbouring nobility are undoubtedly assembled, and have now come to succour me.

—They can only revenge you, villain!—cries Boleslas, interrupting him in the midst of his threats, and seizing at the same time, an iron bar, with which he prepared to knock him down; I, however, instantly interposed, and prevented him from executing this act of justice.

Titsikan returned in a few minutes: it is only a false alarm, said he to us: it is nothing more than a small detachment which I dispatched yesterday, on purpose to scour the country—they had orders to rejoin me here; and they have brought me some prisoners: every thing is quiet, and the neighbourhood does not appear to be in the least commotion.

[Page 58]While Titsikan yet spoke to me, a number of unfortunates, whose luckless fate had delivered them into the hands of the enemy, were dragged before him. We first beheld five, who being unbound, walked by the side of their conquerors, with a downcast and malancholy aspect. The Tartars told us, that one of their companions had been overcome with great difficulty, and that was the reason why he was bound hand and foot!

The sixth now appeared: O heavens! it is my father! exclaims Lodoiska, running at the same time towards him. I, too, throw myself at the feet of Pulauski.

Are you Pulauski? says the Tartar chieftain, 'tis well—the event is lucky! Believe me, my friend, it is not more than a quarter of an hour since I first heard of you. I know however that you are proud and hot-headed, but no matter; I esteem you: you possess both courage and abilities; your daughter is beautiful, and does not want for understanding; Lovzinski is brave—braver than myself, as I have already experienced. Attend to what I am about to say—

Pulauski, motionless with astonishment, scarcely heard the sound of the Tartar's voice; and struck, at the same time, with the strange spectacle that offered itself to his view, he began to conceive the most horrible suspicions.

[Page 59]He repulsed my caresses with the most signifi­cant disgust: Wretch! exclaims he at length, you have betrayed your country, a woman who loved you, a man who prided himself in calling you his son-in-law; it was only wanting to fill up the measure of your crimes, that you should league with robbers.

With robbers! cries Titsikan—with robbers indeed, if it so please you to call us; but you yourself must acknowledge that description of people to be good for something; for without me, perhaps, your daughter by to-morrow's sun, would no longer have been a maiden. Be not alarmed, says he, addressing himself to me: but I know that he is proud, and I therefore am not angry.

We had, by this time, placed Pulauski in a chair; his daughter and myself bathed his manacles with our tears: but he still continued to frown at, and to overwhelm me with re­proaches.

What, in the name of the devil, would you wish for? cries the Tartar, once more addressing his captive: I tell you that Lovzinski is a brave man, whom I intend to see married; and as for your Dourlinski, he is a rogue, whom I am about to order to be hanged.

I repeat to you, once more, that you alone are [Page 60] more hot-headed than us three put together. But, hear me, and let us finish this business; for it is necessary that I should depart. You belong to me, by the most incontestible right, that of the sword. But if you promise me, upon your honour, that you will be sincerly reconciled to Lovzinski, and give your daughter to him for a wife, I will restore you to your liberty.

He who can brave death, replies the haughty Pulauski, can support slavery. My daughter shall never be the wife of a traitor.

Do you love better, that she should be a Tartar's mistress?—If you do not promise to give her, within the space of eight days, to this brave man, I myself shall espouse her this very night! When I am weary of you and of her, I will sell you to the Turks. Your daughter is handsome enough to find admittance into the haram of a bashaw: and you yourself may, perhaps, super­intend the kitchen of some janissary.

My life is in your hands; do with it whatsoever you please. If Pulauski falls beneath the sword of a Tartar, he will be lamented, and even his enemies will agree, that he merits a more glorious destiny: but if he were to consent—No! no! I rather choose—I prefer death!

I do not desire your death! I wish only that Lovzinski should espouse Lodoiska. What!—shall [Page 61] my prisoner give the law to me? By my sabre!— this dog of a Christian—but I am in the wrong— he is furious, and is assuredly deprived of his reason.

I now beheld the Tartar's eyes sparkle with fury, and therefore recalled to his memory the promise he had made me, that he would not give way to his passion.

Undoubtedly! but this man wearies out the patience of a favourite of our prophet! I am but a robber!—Yet, Pulauski, I repeat it to you again, that it is my command that Lovzinski espouse your daughter. By my sabre, he has fairly gained her; but for him she had been burnt last night.

But for him!

Yes, behold those ruins; there stood a tower in that place; it was on fire, and no person dared to ascend it: he, however, mounted the stair­case, attended by Boleslas—and they saved your daughter?

Was my daughter in that tower?

Yes, that hoary villain had confined her there —that hoary villain, who attempted to violate her!—Some of you must relate the whole to him; but make haste, as it is necessary that he should decide it instantly: I have business else­where, [Page 62] for I do not intend that your militia ^* shall surprise me here: it is otherwise in the plains; there I should laugh at them.

While Titsikan ordered the rich booty which he had taken, to be stowed in little covered waggons, Lodoiska informed her father of the crimes of Dourlinski, and mingled the recital of our affection so artfully with the history of our misfortunes, that nature and gratitude at one and the same time besieged the heart of Pulauski.

Affected in the most lively manner with the misfortunes of his daughter, and sensible of the important services which I had rendered her: he embraces Lodoiska, and at length beholding me without resentment, he seemed to wait impatiently for an opportunity to be reconciled to me.

O Pulauski! I exclaim, you whom heaven hath left me on purpose to console me for the loss of the best of fathers: you for whom I have an equal friendship and veneration: why hast thou condemned thy children unheard. Why hast thou supposed a man who adores thy daughter, guilty of the most horrible treason?

When my vows were offered up in favour of that prince who now fills the throne, I swear to [Page 63] you, Pulauski, by her whom I love so tenderly, that I looked upon his elevation to be an event highly, auspicious to the happiness, the safety, and the prosperity of my country.

The misfortunes which my youth did not foresee, thy experience had anticipated: but because I have been wanting in prudence, ought you to accuse me of perfidy? Ought you to have reproached me for loving my friend? Can you now look upon it as a crime, that I still give him my esteem? For the three last months; I have beheld the misfortunes of my country in the same point of view as yourself; like you, I have mourned over them; but I am sure that the king is still ignorant of their extent, and I shall go to Warsaw on purpose to inform him of all that I have seen.

Pulauski here interrupts me:—It is not there that you ought to repair: you tell me that M. de P— is not informed of the wrongs done to his native country, and I believe you; but whether he is acquainted with, or whether he is entirely ignorant of them, is now but of little consequence. Insolent foreigners, cantoned throughout our provinces, strive to maintain themselves in the republic, even against the king, whom they have caused to be elected. It is no longer in the power [Page 64] of an impotent or a mal-content king, to chase the Russians from my country!

Let us trust only to ourselves, Lovzinski; and let us either avenge our country, or die in her defence. I have assembled 4000 noble Poles in the palatine of Lublin, who wait but for the return of their general to march against the Russians; follow me to my camp—on this condition I am your friend, and my daughter shall be your wife.

Pulauski, I am ready to obey you: I swear to follow your fortunes, and to participate in your dangers. And think not that it is Lodoiska alone who has extracted from me this oath: I love my country as much as I adore thy daughter; I swear by her, and before you, that the enemies of the republic have always been, and shall never cease to be mine: I swear that I will spill the very last drop of my blood, to chase those foreigners out of Poland, who reign there in the name of its king!

Embrace me, Lovzinski! I now recognize you; I adopt you for my son-in-law.—My children, all our misfortunes are at an end.

Pulauski desired me to unite my hand to Lodoiska's, in token of our union; and we were embracing the brave palatine at the very moment that Titsikan re-entered.

Good, good! exclaims the chieftain: this is [Page 65] what I wished; I am fond of marriages.—Father, I shall instantly order you to be unbound.

By my sabre! adds the Tartar, while his followers were cutting the cords with which the hands and feet of Pulauski were tied: by my sabre! I shall do a noble action, but it will cost me a world of wealth. Two grandees of Poland! a beautiful maiden! They would have produced me a large ransom.

Titsikan, such a thought is not worthy of you! says Pulauski, interrupting him.

No! no! rejoins the Tartar, it is a mere reflection only—it is one of those ideas which a robber cannot prevent.—My brave and unfortunate friends, I demand nothing from you—nay, more, you shall not retire on foot; I have some charming horses, with which I intend to present you. And, for this lady, if you please, I will give you a litter, on which I myself have been carried for these last ten or twelve days. This young man here had given me such a wound, that I could no longer sit on horse-back. The litter is indeed a bad one, clumsily constructed, by means of branches of trees; but I have nothing except that, or a little covered waggon, to offer you, choose which ever of them you please.

In the mean time, Dourlinski, who had not as yet uttered a single word, remained with his [Page 66] eyes fixed upon the ground, while an air of consternation was spread over his countenance.

Unworthy friend, says Pulauski to him, how could you so cruelly abuse the confidence I reposed in you? Were you not afraid to expose yourself to my resentment? What demon blinded you?

Love, replies Dourlinski, an outrageous love! You, perhaps, do not comprehend to what excess the passions may hurry on a man, violent and jealous by nature. This frightful example, how­ever ought to teach you, that a daughter charming as yours, is a treasure which one ought not to entrust to any person.

Pulauski, I have, indeed, merited your hatred; but I am still worthy of your pity. I have ren­dered myself exceedingly culpable; but you behold me cruelly punished. I lose, in one single day, my rank, my riches, my honour, my liberty! more than all this, I lose thy daughter.

O, Lodoiska, lovely maiden, whom I have so much outraged, will you deign to forget my persecutions, your danger, and your grief? Will you deign to grant to me a generous pardon?

Ah, if there are no crimes which a sincere repentance cannot expiate, Lodoiska, I am no longer criminal. I would I were able, at the price of all my blood, to redeem those tears which I have occasioned you to shed. Amidst the [Page 67] horrible state to which Dourlinski is about to be reduced, shall he not be permitted to carry with him the consoling recollection of having heard you tell him, that he is no longer odious to you?

Too amiable, and, until this present moment, too unfortunate maiden, however great my wrongs may have been in regard to you, I have it in my power, to repair them all by means of a single word—advance—approach me—I have a secret which can only be entrusted to your private ear: it is exceedingly important that it should be revealed to you.

Lodoiska, without the least dread, now leaves my side, and advances towards him without the least distrust.

At that very moment I beheld a poignard glit­tering in the hand of Dourlinski.

I precipitate myself upon him.—It was too late; for I could only parry the second thrust; and the lovely Lodoiska, wounded immediately above the left breast, had already fallen senseless at the feet of Titsikan!

Pulauski, furious at the horrid treason, [...]ew his sabre as quick as lightning, on purpose to avenge his daughter's fate.

No! no! exclaimed the Tartar, at the same time withholding his arm: you are about to make this wretch suffer too gentle a death!

[Page 68]It is well, says this infamous assassin, addressing himself to me, and at the same time, contem­plating his victim with a cruel joy. Lovzinski, you appeared but now eager to be united with Lodoiska; why do you not follow her? Go, my too happy rival, go and accompany your mistress to the tomb! Let them prepare my punishment; it will appear pleasant to me: I leave you to torments no less cruel, and infinitely longer than mine.

Dourlinski was not allowed to utter another sentence, for the Tartars rushed in upon him, and threw him into the midst of the burning ruins. * * * * * * * * * * * *

What a night! my dear Faublas; how many different cares, how many opposite sentiments agitated my unhappy mind during its continuance! How many times did I experience the successive emotions of fear, hope, grief and joy. After so many dangers and inquietudes, Lodoiska was at length presented to me by her father, and I was intoxicated with the dear hope of possessing her: —a barbarian had but now assassinated her in my presence!

This was the most cruel and unfortunate moment of any during the whole course of my life!—But be comforted, my friend; my happiness, [Page 69] eclipsed as it were, in a single instant, was not long in shining forth with all its former splendour.

Amidst the Tartars belonging to Titsikan, was one somewhat conversant in surgery. We send for him; on his arrival he examines the wound, and assures us, that it is but a slight one. The infa­mous Dourlinski, constrained by his chains, and blinded by his despair, had happily been prevented from giving any other than an ill-directed blow.

As soon as Titsikan was informed that the life of Lodoiska was not in any danger, he prepared to take leave of us.

I leave you, said he, the five domestics who accompanied Pulauski; provisions for several days, arms, six excellent horses, two covered waggons, and all the people belonging to Dourlinski in chains. Their base lord is no more! Adieu! the day is about to appear; do not leave this place until to-morrow; I shall then visit the other cantons. Adieu, brave Poles! tell to your country­men that Titsikan is not so bad as he has been represented to them, and that he sometimes restores with one hand what he takes with another. Adieu!

At these words he lifts his hand to his head, and having saluted us gracefully, after the manner of his country, he gives the signal to depart: the Tartars, mount their sleet coursers in an [Page 70] instant, pass along the drawbridge, and make for the neighbouring plain at a full gallop.

They had been gone scarcely two hours when several of the neighbouring nobility, supported by a detachment of militia, came on purpose to invest the castle of Dourlinski.

Pulauski himself went out to receive them: he related the particulars of all that had occurred; and some, gained over by his eloquence, promised to follow us to the palatinate of Lublin.

They asked for only two days to prepare every thing necessary for the expedition, and actually came and rejoined us at the appointed time, to the number of sixty.

Lodoiska having assured us, that she was now able to undergo the fatigues of a journey, we placed her in a commodious carriage, which we had luckily been able to procure for this purpose.

After having restored Dourlinski's people to liberty, we abandon the two covered waggons to them, in which Titsikan, acting with his usual generosity, had left part of his immense booty: this we divided among them in equal proportions.

We arrived, without meeting with an accident, at Polowiski, in the palatinate of Lublin, this being the place which Pulauski had appointed for the general rendezvous.—The news of his return having gone abroad, a crowd of malecontents in [Page 71] the space of less than a month, stocked [...] and increased our little army to such a degree, that we soon found it to amount to no less than 10,000 men.

Lodoiska, entirely cured of her wound, and perfectly recovered from her fatigues, had regained her usual spirits, and appeared in possession of all her former beauty. Pulauski, one day, called me into his tent, and spoke as follows: Three thousand Russians have appeared, as you well know, upon the heights above, and at no greater distance than half a league from us; take, in the course of the ensuing night, three thousand chosen men, and go and chase the enemy from the advan­tageous posts which they now occupy. Recollect, that on the success of a first attempt, depends almost always that of the campaign; recollect, that you are about to avenge your country's wrongs; recollect too, my friend, that to-morrow I shall learn thy victory, and, that to-morrow also, thou shalt espouse Lodoiska?

I began my march about ten o'clock.—At midnight we surprised our enemies in their camp. Never was a defeat more complete: we killed seven hundred men; we took nine hundred pri­soners; we seized all their cannon, the military chest, and the ammunition.

At break of day Pulauski marches out to join [Page 72] me with the remainder of the troops: he brings Lodoiska along with him: we are married in Pulauski's tent. All the camp resounds with songs of gladness: valour and beauty are cele­brated in joyous epithalamiums: it seemed to be the festival of Venus and Mars; and it might be truly said, that every soldier appeared to be impressed with the same sentiments as myself, and that they all partook of my happiness.

After I had given up the first days of so dear an union entirely to love, I began to think of recompensing the heroic fidelity of Boleslas. My father-in-law presented him with one of his castles, situate at some leagues from the capital; and Lodoiski and myself added to this princely donation a considerable sum in ready money, on purpose to enable him to lead an independent and tranquil life.

He first refused to leave us, but we commanded him to go and take possession of his castle, and live peaceably in that honourable retreat which his services had so amply merited. On the day of his departure I took him aside:—You must go in my name, said I, and wait upon our monarch at Warsaw: inform him that I am united in the bonds of Hymen to the daughter of Pulauski: state to him that I am armed on purpose to chase out of his kingdom those foreigners who are [Page 73] ravaging it; and tell him, in particular, that Louvzinski, a foe to the Russians, is not the enemy of his king.

I will not fatigue you, my dear Faublas, with the recital of our operations, during eight succeeding years of a bloody war.—Sometimes vanquished; much oftener victorious; equally great in the midst of a defeat, as formidable after a victory, and always superior to events, Pulauski attracted and fixed the attention of all Europe, whom he astonished by his long and vigorous resistance. Obliged to abandon one province, he made incursions into, and performed new prodi­gies of valour in another▪ and it was thus, that in marching successively throughout all the palati­nates, he signalized in each of them, by some glo­rious exploit, that eternal hatred which he had sworn against the enemies of Poland.

Wife of a warrior, daughter of a hero, accus­tomed to the tumult of a camp, Lodoiska accom­panied us every where. Of five children which she had borne me, an only daughter alone remained to us, about eighteen months old. One day, after a most obstinate engagement, the victorious Russians precipitated themselves towards my tent, on purpose to plunder it. Pu­lauski and mself, followed by some nobles, flew to the defence of Lodoiska, whom we saved [Page 74] with difficulty: my daughter, however, had been carried off.

This lovely child, by a sage precaution which her mother had wisely made use of in those times of intestine commotion, had the arms of our family impressed, by means a chemical prepa­ration, under her left breast: but my search after my daughter has hitherto been ineffectual. Alas, Dorliska, my dear Dorliska, either exists in slavery, or exists no more!

This loss affected me with the most lively sorrow; Pulauski, however, appeared, almost insensible to my misfortunes; either because his mind was occupied at this moment with the great project which he soon after communicated to me, or because the miseries of his country alone could effect his stoic heart. He, as usual, re­assembles the remains his army, takes possession of an advantageous post, employs several days in fortifying, and maintains himself in it for three whole months, against all the efforts of the Russians.

It, however, became at length necessary that he should abandon this situation, as provisions were beginning to be scarce—Pulauski, on this occasion, came to my tent; and, having ordered every one to retire, when we alone remained, he addressed me as follows:

[Page 75]Lovzinski, I have just reason for complaining of your conduct. Formerly you supported, along with me, the burden of command, and I was enabled to divide with my son-in-law a part of my laborious avocations: but for these two last months, you do nothing but weep: you sigh like a woman. You have abandoned me in a critical moment, when your assistance was become the most neces­sary. You see how I am attacked on all sides; I fear not for myself; I am not unhappy for my own life: but if we perish, the state has no longer any defenders.

Awake, Lovzinski! how nobly you once par­ticipated in my cares. Do not now remain the useless witness of them. We are indeed bathed in Russian blood: our fellow-citizens are avenged, but they are not saved: nay, even in a short time we may be able no longer to defend them.

You astonish me, Pulauski! Whence these sinister auguries?

I am not alarmed without reason. Consider our present position: I am forced to awaken in every heart the love of its country; I have found no where but degenerate men, born for slavery, or weak ones, who, although penetrated with a sense of their own misfortunes, have bounded all their views to barren complaints.

Some true citizens are, indeed, ranged under [Page 76] my standards; but eight long and bloody campaigns have lessened their number, and almost extin­guished them. I become enfeebled by my very victories; our enemies appear more numerous after their defeats.

I repeat to you, Pulauski, once more, that you astonish me! In circumstances no less disastrous, no less unhappy, than the present, I have beheld you sustain yourself by your courage. . . . .

Do you think that it now abandons me! True valour does not consist in being blind to danger, but in braving it after it has been foreseen. Our enemies prepare for my defeat; however, if you choose, Lovzinski, the very day which they point out for their triumph, shall perhaps be that destined to record their ruin, and atchieve the safety of our fellow-citizens.

If I choose! Can you doubt my sentiments? Speak! what would you have done?

To strike the boldest stroke that I ever meditated. Forty chosen men are assembled at Czenstachow along with Kaluvski, whose bravery is well known; they want a chief, able, firm, intrepid—It is you whom I have chosen.

Pulauski, I am ready.

I will not dissemble to you the danger of the enterprize; the event is doubtful, and, if you do not succeed, your ruin is inevitable.

[Page 77]I tell you that I am ready, therefore explain yourself.

You are not ignorant, that scarce four thousand men now fight under my command: with these undoubtedly I have still an opportunity of tor­menting our enemies; but with such feeble means, I dare not hope to be ever able to force them to leave our provinces. All the nobility would flock beneath our banners, if the king were in my camp.

What do you say? Can you hope that the king would ever consent to repair hither?

No; but he must be forced to do so.

Forced!

Yes. I know that an ancient friendship connects you with M. de P—: but since you have sup­ported, along with Pulauski, the cause of liberty, you know also that you ought to sacrifice every thing to the good of your country: that an interest so sacred—

I know my duty, and I am ready to fulfil it; but what is it that you now propose to me? the king never leaves Warsaw.

True; and it is, therefore, at Warsaw that you must go and find him; it is from the heart of the capital that he must be forced.

What preparations have you made for so great an enterprise?

[Page 78]You behold yon Russian army, three times as strong as mine, and which has been encamped three months in sight of us: its general, tranquil at present within his entrenchments, impatiently waits until, forced by famine, I shall surrender myself at discretion.

Behind my camp are marshes which he thinks impracticable: the moment that it is night, we shall traverse them. I have disposed of every thing in such a manner, that the enemy will be deceived, and not perceive my retreat until it is too late. I hope, therefore, to be able to steal more than an hour's march upon them, and, if fortune seconds me, perhaps a whole day. I shall advance strait forward to Warsaw, by the great road that leads to that capital, notwith­standing the efforts of the little Russian bands who hover continually in its neighbourhood. I shall either encounter or conquer these sepa­rately, or, if they form a junction on purpose to stop my progress, I shall at least be able to occupy their attention in such a manner, that they will not be able to impede your operations.

In the mean time, Lovzinski, you will have preceded me. Your forty followers disguised, and armed only with sabres, poignards and pistols, concealed under their clothes, shall have arrived at Warsaw by different roads. You must wait [Page 79] there until the king has left his palace; you are then to carry him off, and to bring him to my camp. The enterprize is bold—rash, if you please so to term it: the march to Warsaw is difficult; the stay in it dangerous; the return from it extremely perilous. If you are vanquished, if you are taken prisoner, you will perish, Lovzinski, but you will perish a martyr to liberty; and Pulauski, jealous of so glorious an end, sighing at being obliged to survive you, shall send Russians, thousands of Russians, to accompany you to the tomb.

But on the contrary, if an all-powerful deity; if a god, the protector of Poland, has inspired me with this hardy object, to terminate evils; if thy good fortune shall procure a success equal to thy courage, what a glorious prosperity will be atchieved by means of this noble daring.

M. de P—will not see, in my camp, other than citizen soldiers, the foes of foreigners, but still faithful to their king; under my patriotic tents, he will respire, as it were, the air of liberty, and the love of his country; the enemies of the state shall become his; our brave nobility, ashamed of their indolence, will readily combat under the royal banners, for the common cause; the Russians shall either be cut in pieces, or be obliged to pass the frontiers—my friend, in thee thy country shall behold her saviour. * * *

[Page 80]Pulauski held his word. That very night he accomplished his retreat, with equal skill and success, by traversing the marshes in profound silence. My friend, said my father-in-law to me, as soon as we were out of the reach of the enemy, it is now time that you should leave us. I know well that my daughter has more courage than another woman; but she is a tender wife, and an unfortunate mother. Her tears will affect you, and you will lose in her embraces that strength of mind, that dignity of soul, which now become more necessary to you than ever: I advise you, therefore, to be gone, without bidding her farewel.

Pulauski pressed me, but in vain, for I was unable to consent. As soon as Lodoiska knew that I should depart alone, and perceived that we were resolved not to inform her whither, she shed torrents of tears and strove to detain me. I began to hesitate.

Lovzinski, cries my father-in-law, at this critical moment, Lovzinski, depart. Wife, children, relations, all ought to be sacrificed, when it is necessary for the salvation of your country.

I instantly mount my horse, and make such haste, that I arrived by the middle of next day at Czenstachow. I here found forty brave men waiting for me, and determined for the most hazardous enterprize.

[Page 81]Gentlemen, said I to them, we are now met on purpose to carry a king out of the midst of his own capital. Those capable of attempting such a bold enterprize, are alone capable of effecting it: either success or death awaits us.

After this short harangue, we prepare to depart. Kaluvski, forewarned of our design, had already procured twelve waggons, loaded with hay and straw; each of which was drawn by four good horses.

We instantly disguised ourselves as peasants; we hide our clothes, our sabres, our pistols, and the saddles of our horses, in the hay with which our waggons were partly filled; we agree upon certain signs, and I give them a watch-word, to be used according to circumstances.—Twelve of the conspirators, commanded by Kaluvski, enter into Warsaw, accompanied by as many waggons, which they themselves conduct. I divide the rest of my little troop into several brigades, on purpose to avoid suspicion: each is ordered to march at some distance from the other, and to gain the capital by different gates.

We depart, and on Saturday the 2d of No­vember, 1771, arrive at Warsaw, and lodge together at a convent belonging to the Dominicans.

On the next day, which was Sunday, and which will for ever form a memorable epoch in the [Page 82] annals of Poland, one of my people, of the name of Stravinski, being covered with rags, places himself near the collegiate church, and soon after proceeds, demanding charity even at the gates of the royal palace, where he observes every thing that passed. Several of the conspirators walked up and down the six narrow streets in the neigh­bourhood of the great square where Kaluvski himself was posted. We remain in ambuscade during the whole day, and part of the afternoon.

At six o'clock at night the king leaves the palace; he is followed, and is seen to enter the hotel of his uncle, the grand chancellor of Lithuania.

All our followers receive notice of this event, and assemble instantly; they throw off their miserable clothes, saddle their horses, and prepare their arms, in the large square belonging to the convent, where their movements are entirely concealed. They then sally forth, one after the other, under favour of the night. Too well known in Warsaw to hazard appearing there, without disguising myself, I still wear my peasant's dress, and I mount an excellent horse, caparisoned, however, after the common manner.

I then point out to my followers the different posts in the suburbs, which I had assigned them before our departure from the convent, and they [Page 83] were dispersed in such a manner, that all the avenues to the palace of the grand chancellor were carefully and strictly guarded.

Between nine and ten o'clock at night, the king comes forth on purpose to return home; and we remark, with joy, that his attendants were far from being numerous.

The carriage was preceded by two men, who carried flambeaux, some officers of his suite, two gentlemen and an esquire followed. I know not what was the name of the grandee in the coach along with the king. There were two pages, one at each door, two hey-dukes running by the side of the equipage, and three footmen, in the royal livery, behind.

The king proceeds slowly: part of my people assemble at some distance; twelve of the most determined spring forward: I put myself at their head, and we advanced at a good pace.

As there was a Russian garrison at that very moment in Warsaw, we affect to speak the lan­guage of those foreigners, so that our petty troop might be mistaken for one of their patroles.

We overtook the carriage at about a hundred and fifty paces from the grand chancellor's palace, and exactly between those of the bishop of Cra­cow and of the late grand general of Poland.

All of a sudden we pass the heads of the [Page 84] foremost horses, so that those who preceded, found themselves separated from those who surrounded the royal equipage.

I instantly give the signal agreed upon. Kaluvski gallops up, with the remainder of the conspirators: I present a pistol to the postillion, who instantly stops; the coachman is fired upon, and is precipi­tated beneath the wheels. Of the two hey-dukes who endeavoured to defend their prince, one drops, pierced with two balls; the other is over­turned by means of a backhanded stroke from a sabre, which he receives on the head; the steed belonging to the esquire, falls down covered with wounds: one of the pages is dismounted, and his horse taken; pistol balls fly about in all directions —in short, the attack was so hot, and the fire so violent, that I trembled for the king's life.

He himself, however, preserving the utmost coolness in the midst of the danger, had now descended from his carriage, and was striving to regain his uncle's palace on foot. Kaluvski arrests and seizes him by the hair; seven or eight of the conspirators surround, disarm, overpower him, and, pressing him between their horses, make off at full gallop, towards the end of the street.

During this moment, I confess to you, that I thought Pulauski had basely deceived me; that the death of the monarch was resolved upon, and that a plot had been formed to assassinate him.

[Page 85]All of a sudden I form my resolves; I clap spurs to my horse, overtake the little band, cry out to them to stop, and threaten to kill the first person who dare to disobey me.

That God who is the protector of good kings, watched over the safety of M. de P—! Kaluvski and his followers stop at the sound of my well known voice. We mount the king on horseback, make off at full speed, and regained the ditch that surrounded the city, which the monarch is constrained to leap, in company with us.

At that moment a panic terror takes possession of my troop: at fifty paces distant from the ramparts, there were no more than seven who surrounded the person of the king.

The night was dark and rainy, and it was necessary to dismount at every instant, on purpose to sound the morass with which we were sur­rounded.

The horse on which the monarch rode fell twice, and broke his leg at the second fall: during these violent movements, his majesty lost his pelisse, ^* and the shoe belonging to his left foot.

If you wish that I should follow you, says he to us, you must furnish me with another horse and a pair of boots.

We remount him once more, and on purpose [Page 86] to gain the road by which Pulauski had promised me to advance, we resolved to pass through a village called Burakow: but the king exclaims, do not go that way; there are Russians there!

I immediately change our route; but in propor­tion as we advance through the wood of Beliany, our number continue to diminish. In a short time I perceive nobody around me but Kaluvski and Stravinski; a few minutes after we are challenged by a Russian centinel on horseback, at whose voice we instantly stop, greatly alarmed for our safety.

Let us kill him, cries the ferocious Kaluvski, pointing to the king. I instantly avow to him, without disguise, the horror which such a propo­sition inspired me with. Very well, you may then take upon you the task of conducting him, adds this cruel hearted man, who immediately after precipitates himself into the woods. Stravinski follows him, and I alone remain with the king.

Lovzinski, says he, addressing himself to me, as soon as they were out of sight; it is you, I can no longer doubt it; it is you, for I well remember your voice. I utter not a single word in reply. He then mildly adds, it is certainly you, Lovzinski. Who would have thought this ten years ago?

We find ourselves at that moment near to the convent of Beliany, distant no more than a single league from Warsaw.

[Page 87]Lovzinski, continues the king, permit me to enter this convent, and save yourself.

You must follow me, was my only answer.

It is in vain, rejoins the monarch, that you are disguised; it is in vain that you endeavour to assume a feigned voice: I know you well; I am fully assured that you are Lovzinski:—ah, who would have said so ten years since? you would then have lost your life, on condition of preserving that of your friend.

His majesty now ceases to speak; we advance some time, in a profound silence, which he again breaking, exclaims, I am overcome with fatigue— If you wish to carry me alive, permit me to repose myself for a single moment.

I assist him to descend from his horse; he sits down upon the grass, and making me sit down by his side, he takes one of my hands and presses it between his own:

Lovzinski, you whom I have so much loved, you who know better than any one the purity of my intentions, how comes it about that you have taken up arms against me. Ungrateful Lovzinski, shall I never find you but amongst my most bitter enemies; do you return but on purpose to sacri­fice me.

He then, in the most affecting language, recapitulates the pleasures of our early youth; our [Page 88] more intimate connection at an age approaching to manhood, the tender friendship which we had sworn to each other, and the regard which he had ever treated me with since that period. He spoke to me of the honours with which he would have loaded me during his reign, if I had been ambi­tious to merit them: he reproached me more particularly, respecting the unworthy enterprize of which I appeared to be the leader, but of which, he said, he was well assured, that I was no more than the instrument.

He threw all the horror of the plot upon Pulauski, representing to me, at the same time, that the author of such an attempt was not the sole culpable person; that I could not charge myself with its execution, without committing a crime; and that this odious complaisance, so highly treasonable in a subject, was infinitely more so in a friend. He concluded, by pressing me to restore him to his liberty: fly, said he to me, and be assured, if I encounter any of the Russian patroles, I shall tell them that you have pursued an opposite road from that which you have taken.

The king continued to press me with the most earnest entreaties: his natural eloquence, aug­mented by the danger of his situation, carried persuasion to my heart, and awakened the most tender sentiments there.

[Page 89]I confess that I was staggered; I balanced the circumstances for some time in my own mind, but Pulauski at length triumphed.

I thought that I still heard the fierce republican reproaching me with my pusillanimity. My dear Faublas, the love of one's country has, perhaps its fanaticism and its superstitions: but if I was then culpable, I am still so; I am more than ever pursuaded, that in obliging the king to remount his horse again, I performed an action that re­flected honour on my patriotism.

Is it thus, says he to me, in a melancholy accent, that you reject the prayer addressed to you by a friend! that you refuse the pardon offered to you by your king? Well, then, let us be gone. I deliver myself up to my unhappy fate, or rather I abandon you to your's.

We now recommence our journey once more; but the entreaties of the monarch, his arguments, his reproaches, his very menaces, the struggles which I felt within myself, affected me in such a manner, that I no longer could discern my way. Wandering up and down the country, I kept no one certain road: after half an hour's fatigue, we found ourselves at Marimont, ^* and I was [Page 90] greatly alarmed at seeing us thus return towards Warsaw, instead of leaving it at a distance.

At about a quarter of a league beyond this, we unfortunately fell in with a party of Russians. The king immediately discovers himself to the commanding officer, and then instantly adds: In the course of the preceding afternoon, I happened to bewilder myself during the chace; this good peasant, whom you see here, insisted on my par­taking a frugal repast in his cottage; but as I thought that I perceived some of the soldiers of Pulauski roaming in the neighbourhood, I was desirous of returning to Warsaw immediately, and you will oblige me much by instantly accompanying me thither.

As to you, my friend, continues he, turning at the same time towards me, I am not at all sorry that you have given yourself this useless trouble, for I am as much pleased at returning to my capital, attended by these gentlemen (pointing at the same time to the escort) as in accompanying you any farther. However, it would be improper that I should leave you without any recompense; what are you desirous of? Speak—I will grant you any favour which you may demand of me.

Faublas, you may easily conceive how much I was alarmed, for I was still doubtful of the king's intentions. I endeavoured therefore to discover [Page 91] the true meaning of his equivocal discourse, which must be either full of a bitter irony, or a magnani­mous address. M. de P— left me for some time in this cruel uncertainty: I behold you greatly embarrassed, continues he at length, with a gracious air; you know not what to choose! Come then, my friend, embrace me: there is indeed more honour than profit in embracing a king (adds he with a smile); however, it must be allowed, that in my place, many monarchs would not be at this moment so generous as myself! On uttering these words, he instantly departs, leaving me penetrated with gratitude, and confounded with so much true greatness.

However, the danger which the king had so generously relieved me from, began every moment to assail me again. It was more than probable that a great number of couriers expedited from Warsaw, had spread about on all sides the astonishing news of the king's having been carried off. Already, without doubt, the ravishers were warmly pursued. My remarkable dress might betray me in my flight; and if I once more fell into the hands of any of the Russians, better informed of the circumstance, all the efforts of the king would not be able to save me. Supposing Pulauski had obtained all the success which he expected, he must still be at a great distance; a [Page 92] journey of ten more leagues at least remained for me to perform, and my horse was entirely spent with fatigue; I endeavoured, however, to spur him on, but he had not got five hundred paces before he fell under me.

A cavalier, well mounted, happened to pass along the road by the side of me, at this very moment: he perceived the poor animal tumble down, and, thinking to amuse himself at the expense of an unfortunate peasant, he began to banter me about my situation.—Piqued at this buffoonry, I resolved to punish him for his raillery, and secure my own flight at one and the same time: I therefore instantly present one of my pistols to his breast, and oblige him to surrender his own horse to me; nay, I acknowledge to you, that, forced by the peculiarity of my situa­tion, I despoiled him even of his cloak, which being very large, hid all my rags beneath it, which otherwise might have discovered me. I then cast my purse full of gold at the feet of the astonished traveller, and sprang forward as fast as my new horse could carry me.

Luckily for me, he was fresh and vigorous. I dart forward twelve leagues, with all the swift­ness of an arrow: at length I think I hear the firing of cannon, and I instantly conjecture that my father-in-law was at hand, and was employed in fighting the Russians.

[Page 93]I was not deceived—I arrive on the field of battle at the very moment when one of our regi­ments had given way. I instantly discovered myself to the fugitives, and having rallied them beneath a neighbouring hill, I attack the enemies in flank, while Pulauski charges them in front with the remainder of his troops. Our manoeuvres were so well concerted, and so admirably executed, that the Russians were entirely routed, after ex­periencing a terrible carnage.

Pulauski deigned to attribute to me the honour of their defeat: Ah! cries he, embracing me, after hearing the particulars of my expedition— ah! if your forty followers had but equalled you in courage, the king would have been at this very moment in my camp! But the Deity does not will it. I am grateful, however, that you have been preserved to us; and I return you thanks for the important service which you have ren­dered me: but for you, Kaluvski would have assassinated the monarch, and my name would have been covered with an eternal opprobrium!

I might have been able, added he, to have advanced two miles farther; but I rather chose to take possession of this respectable post, on account of the security of my camp. Yesterday, in the course of my march, I surprised, and cut in pieces, a party of Russians; this morning I beat [Page 94] two more of their detachments; but another considerable corps having collected the remainder of the vanquished, took advantage of the darkness of the night, on purpose to attack me. My sol­diers, fatigued with the toil of a long march, and three succeeding engagements, began to fly; but victory returned to my camp at your approach. Let us entrench ourselves here; we will wait for the Russian army, and fight while we yet have a drop of blood remaining.

In the mean time, the camp resounded with the cries of gladness, and our victorious soldiers mingled my praises with those of Pulauski. At the noise of my name, repeated by a thousand tongues, Lodoiska ran to her father's tent. She convinced me of the excess of her tenderness, by the excess of her joy at our meeting; and I was obliged once more to commence the recital of the dangers from which I had escaped. She could not hear of the singular generosity of the monarch, when I was in the power of the Russians, without shedding tears: how magnanimous he is, exclaims she, amidst a transport of joy; how worthy of being a king, he who so generously pardoned you! How many sighs has he spared a wife whom you forsake! how many tears the loving wife whom you are not afraid of sacrificing! Cruel Lovzinski, are not the dangers to which you daily expose yourself sufficient—

[Page 95]Pulauski here interrupts his daughter with a certain degree of harshness: Indiscreet and weak woman! exclaims he, is it before me that you dare to hold such a discourse as this?

Alas! replies she in a mild accent, alas! must I forever tremble for the life of a father and a husband! Lodoiska also made the most affecting complaints to me, and sighed after a more happy futurity, while fortune was preparing for us the most cruel reverse.

Our Cossacks, placed at the out-posts, now came in from all parts, and informed us that the Russian army was approaching. Pulauski reckoned on being attacked at break of day; but he was not: however, about the middle of the following night, I was informed that the enemy was preparing to force our entrenchments.

Pulauski, always ready, always active, was actually defending them: during the course of this fatal night, he atchieved every thing that might have been expected from his valour and expe­rience.

We repel the assailants no less than five different times; but they return unceasingly to the charge, pour in fresh troops at every new attack, and, during the last one, penetrate into the heart of our very camp by three different avenues, and at one and the same time.

[Page 96]Zaremba was killed by my side; a crowd of nobles fell in this bloody ac [...]n; the enemy refused to give any quarter. Furious at seeing all my friends perish before my eyes, I resolved to pre­cipitate myself into the midst of the Russian battalions.

Heedless man! exclaims Pulauski, what blind fury urges you towards your destruction? My army is entirely routed—destroyed —but my cou­rage still remains! Why should we perish useless here? Let us begone! I will conduct you into climes where we may raise up new enemies against the Russian name. Let us live, since we can still serve our country! Let us save ourselves let us save Lodoiska!

Lodoiska! am I capable of abandoning her?

We instantly run to her tent—we are scarce in time: we carry her off; precipitate ourselves into the neighbouring woods, and on the next morning we venture to sally forth, and present ourselves before the gate of a castle that was not altogether unknown to us.

It indeed belonged to a noble Pole, who had served during some time in our army. Micislas instantly comes forth, and offers an asylum, which he advises us, however, to make use of for a few hours only. He informs us, that a very astonishing piece of news had spread abroad [Page 97] on the former evening, and began to be confirmed, according to which the king himself had been carried away out of Warsaw; that the Russians had pursued the conspirators, and brought back the monarch to his capital; and that, in fine, it was talked of putting a price upon the head of Pulauski, who was suspected of being the author of this treason.

Believe me, says he, when I assure you, whether you have engaged or not in this bold plot, that you ought to fly; leave your uniforms here, which will assuredly betray you: I will instantly supply you with clothes which are less remarkable; and as to Lodoiska, I myself will conduct her to the place which you have chosen for your retreat.

Lodoiska now interrupts Micislas: the place of my retreat shall be that of their flight, for I will accompany them every where.

Pulauski represents to his daughter, that she was not able to sustain the fatigue incident to such a long journey, and that besides we should be liable to continual dangers.

The greater the peril is, replies she, the more I ought to partake it with you. You have repeated to me a hundred times, that the daughter of Pulauski ought not to be an ordinary woman. For the last eight years I have constantly lived in the midst of alarms; I have seen nothing but [Page 98] scenes of carnage and horror. Death has envi­roned me on all sides, and menaced me at every moment: will you not permit me to brave it now by your side? Is not the life of Lodoiska con­nected with that of her father? Lovzinski, will not the stroke that fells you to the ground send your wife to the grave? and am I no longer wor­thy—

I now interrupt Lodoiska, and join with her father, in stating the reasons which determined us to leave her in Poland.—She hears me with impatience: Ungrateful man, exclaims she at length, will you fly without me? You shall remain, replies Pulauski, with Lovzinski's sisters, and I prohibit you.

His daughter, now frantic with grief, would not permit him to finish the sentence

I know your rights, my father! I respect them; they shall always appear sacred to me: but you do not possess that of separating a wife from her husband.

Ah, pardon me! I see that I offend you—my reason no longer maintains its empire.

But pity my grief—

Excuse my despair—

My father! Lovzinski! hear me, both of you; I am determined to accompany you every where!

[Page 99]Yes, I will follow you every where, cruel men; I will follow you in spite of yourselves!

Lovzinski, if your wife has lost all the rights she had over your heart, recollect at least, her who was once the mistress of your affections.

Recal to your remembrance that frightful night, when I was about to perish in the flames; that terrible moment when you ascended the burning tower, crying out, let me live or die with Lodoiska

That which you felt at that terrible moment, I now experience! I know no greater evil than that of being separated from you; I now exclaim in my turn, let me either live or die with my father and my husband.

Unfortunate wretch! what will become of me, if you should forsake me. Reduced to the cruel situation of bewailing you both, where shall I find a solace for my miseries? Will my children console me?—Alas! in two years death hath snatched four away from me; and the Russians, equally pitiless as death itself, have bereaved me of the last! I have only you remaining in the world, and even you wish to abandon me! my father! my husband! Will such dear connections as these be insensible to my sufferings! Have compassion, take pity on your own Lodoiska! * * * * * * * *

[Page 100]Her tears now intercepted her speech. Micislas wept; my heart was torn with anguish. You are resolved to accompany us, my daughter—be it so; I consent, says Pulauski: but I wish that heaven may not punish me for my complaisance!

Lodoiska now embraces us both with as much joy as if all our ills had been at an end. I leave two letters with Micislas, which he undertook to transmit according to the direction; the one was addressed to my sisters, and the other to Boleslas. I bade him adieu, and I recommended to them, to neglect no means to endeavour to recover my dear Dorliska!

It was necessary that I should disguise my wife —she assumes a masculine dress; we change our own, and we employ all the means in our power to disfigure ourselves in such a manner as to elude research, and prevent discovery.

Thus altered in our appearance, armed with our sabres and our pistols, provided with a considerable sum in gold, with some trinkets, and all the jewels of Lodoiska, we take leave of Micislas, and make haste to regain the woods.

Pulauski now communicates to us the design which he had formed of taking refuge in Turkey. He hoped to be employed in a situation equal to his rank and his abilities, in the armies of the grand signior, who had, for the two last years, with [Page 101] some difficulty, sustained a disastrous [...] the Russians.

Lodoiska did not appear in the least affrighted at the long journey which we had to make; and as she could neither be known nor sought after, she insisted upon going out to reconnoitre the adjacent country, and at the same time charged herself with the fatiguing but important task of bringing us the provisions which we stood in need of.

As soon as the day appeared, we retired into the woods; hid either in the trunks of trees, or in the thick groves of pines, we waited impatiently for the return of night, on purpose to continue our march. It was thus, that, during several weeks, we were enabled to escape from the search of a multitude of different bodies of Russian troops, who were sent out on purpose to discover us, and who pursued us like so many blood hounds, animated with the passions of hatred and revenge.

One day as Lodoiska, still disguised as a peasant, was returning from a neighbouring hamlet, where she had gone on purpose to purchase the provisions which she was now conveying to us, two Russian marauders attacked her at the entry of the forest in which we were concealed.

After having robbed, they prepared to strip her. At the shrieks which she uttered, we hastened [Page 102] from our retreat, and the two russians immediately betake themselves to flight upon our appearance: but we were greatly alarmed left they should recount this adventure to their companions, whose suspicions, aroused by this singular rencounter, might induce them to come and drag us from our asylum.

After a most fatiguing journey, we entered Polesia. ^* Pulauski wept at leaving his native country.

At least, exclaims he, with a mournful accent—at least I have faithfully served you, and I now only go into exile, that I may be enabled to serve you again.

So many fatigues had exhausted the strength of Lodoiska. Arrived at Novogorod, ^† we resolved to stop there on purpose to give her time to recover her strength. It was our design to remain for some days, but some of the country people whom we questioned, frankly informed us, that a number of troops were in motion, in that neigh­bourhood, on purpose to arrest a certain person of [Page 103] the name of Pulauski, who had occasioned the king of Poland to be taken prisoner, and carried off from the midst of his own capital.

Justly alarmed at this intelligence, we remain but a few hours in this town, where we, however, found means to purchase some horses without being discovered.

We then passed the Desna, above Czernicove; ^* and following the banks of the Sula, we cross that river at Perevoloczna, where we learn, that Pulauski, who had been traced to Novogorod, had escaped, as it were, by miracle, and that the Russian soldiers, indefatigable in their pursue were still searching after him, and were in hopes of making him prisoner.

It was now again become necessary to fly once more, and once more to change our route; we therefore instantly made for the immense forests which cover the face of the country between the Sula and the Zem, in the dark retreats of which we hoped to find shelter from our foes.

We at length discover a cavern, in which we were reduced to the necessity of taking up our abode. A she-bear disputes with us the entrance [Page 104] into this asylum, equally solitary and frightful: we assail, we kill her, and devour her young.

Pulauski was wounded in this encounter: Lodoiska, worn out with fatigue and distress, was scarcely able to support her existence: the winter was approaching, and the cold was already excessive.

Pursued by the Russians in the inhabited parts; menaced by wild and ferocious animals in this vast desert: destitute of any arms but our swords; reduced in a short time to eat our very horses; what was to become of us?

The danger of the situation to which my father-in-law and my wife were reduced, had become so pressing, that no other fear any longer alarmed me. My personal safety, hitherto so dear to me, did not now suggest itself once to my mind: I felt only for their's. I resolved, therefore, to procure for them at any rate, those succours which their situation required, which was still more deplorable than my own; and leaving them both with the promise of rejoining them in a short time, I take a few of the diamonds belonging to Lodoiska, and follow the stream of the Warsklo.

You must know, my dear Faublas, that a traveller, bewildered amidst those vast countries, and reduced to the necessity of wandering about without a compass, and without a guide, is obliged [Page 105] to follow the course of a river, because it is upon its banks that the habitations of mankind are most commonly to be met with.

It was necessary that I should gain, as soon as possible, some considerable town in which a few merchants resided: I therefore journeyed along the banks of the Warsklo, and travelling day and night, found myself at Pultava ^* at the end of four days. During my residence in this place, I pass for a trader belonging to Bielgorod. I there learn that the Russian troops were still roaming about in pursuit of Pulauski, and that the empress had sent an exact description of his person every where, with orders to seize him either dead or alive, wherever he might be found.

I make haste to sell my diamonds, to purchase powder, arms, and provisions of all kinds, different utensils, and some coarse but necessary furniture; every thing, in fine, which I judged most proper to relieve our misery, and soften our misfortunes. With these I load a waggon, drawn by four good horses, of which I was the only conductor.

My return was equally tedious and difficult; [Page 106] no less than eight whole days expired before I arrived at the entrance of the forest.

It was there that terminating my disagreeable and dangerous journey, I was about to succour my father-in-law and my wife; and I was about to revisit all that was most dear to me in the world; and yet my dear Faublas, I felt none of those transports of joy which such an event seemed likely to inspire.

Your philosophers have no belief in forebo­dings.

I assure you, however, my dear friend, that I experienced an involuntary uneasiness: my mind became dispirited, dismayed, and something, I know not what, seemed to whisper to me, that the most unhappy moment of my whole life was fast approaching.

On my departure I had placed several flint stones at certain distances, on purpose to enable me to retrace my road; but I could not now discover them. I had also cut off with my sabre large pieces of the bark of several trees, which I could not now perceive: I enter the forest, however: I holla with all my strength: I dis­charge my gun from time to time, but nobody answers me. I dared not trust myself among the trees and shrubs for fear of losing my way back; neither could I wander too far from my waggon, [Page 107] which was stored with provisions so necessary to Pulauski, his daughter, and myself.

The night, which now approached, obliged me to give over my search, and I pass it in the same manner as the former. Rolled up in my cloak, I lay down beneath my waggon, which I had carefully surrounded with my larger movables, and which thus served me as a rampart against the wild beasts.

I could not sleep; the cold was extremely intense; the snow fell in great abundance: at break of day I looked around, and found all the ground covered with it. From that moment I formed the most horrible and the most sinister presages: the stones, which might have pointed out the path I was to have taken, were all buried, and it appeared impossible that I should ever be able to discover my father-in-law and my wife.

Had the horse, which I left with them at my departure, afforded them sufficient sustenance ever since? Had not hunger, cruel hunger, obliged them to fly from their retreat? Were they still concealed in those frightful deserts? If they were not there, where should I be able to find them? Where, without them, should I drag out my miserable existence? * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

[Page 108]But could I believe that Pulauski had aban­doned his son-in-law? that Lodoiska had consented to separate herself from her husband? No— undoubtedly not. They were still confined within the circle of this frightful solitude; and if I abandoned them, they must die with famine and with cold! * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

These desperate reflections at length determined my conduct, and I no longer examined whether or not in removing at a distance from my waggon, I was in danger of never finding it again. To carry some provisions to my father-in-law and wife, to succour Pulauski and Lodoiska—these were now the only sentiments that occupied my mind.

I accordingly seize my fowling-piece, take some powder and shot, and load one of my horses with necessaries: I pierce into the woods, much farther than during the former evening. I again holla with all my strength; I again make frequent discharges with my gun. The most melancholy silence reigned all around me.

I now find myself in a part of the forest where the trees were so extremely thick, that there was no longer any passage for my horse: I, therefore tie him to a tree, and my despair getting the better of [Page 109] every other consideration, I still continue to ad­vance with my gun and part of my provisions. I had now wandered about for two hours more, my inquietude forcing me every moment to double my pace, when at length I perceive human footsteps imprinted upon the snow.

Hope gives me new strength, and I therefore instantly follow the traces which were still fresh. Soon after I discovered Pulauski almost naked, emaciated with hunger, and so changed as scarce to be known even by me!

He makes all the efforts in his power to drag his limbs towards me, and to reply to my enquiries. The moment that I had rejoined him, he seizes, with avidity, on the victuals that I presented to him, and devours them in an instant. I then demand of him where Lodoiska is.

Alas! says he, you will see her there! The tone of voice in which he pronounced these words, made me tremble. I run to, I arrive at, the cavern, but too well prepared for the melancholy spectacle that awaited me. Lodoiska, wrapped up in her own clothes, and covered with those of her father, was extended upon a bed of half rotten leaves!

She raises, with some difficulty, her weary head, and refusing the aliments which I now offer her, addresses me as follows:—I am not hungry! [Page 110] The death of my children; the loss of Dorliska; our journies, so long, so laborious, so difficult: your dangers, which seemed to increase daily— these have killed me! I was unable to resist fatigue and sorrow. My friend, I am dying—I heard thy voice, and my soul was stopped in its flight— We shall meet again! Lodoiska ought to die in the arms of a husband whom she adores!—Assist my father! May he live! Live both of you— console yourselves, and forget me! * * * * * * * * * —Search every where for my dear * * * * * * * *

She was unable to pronounce the name of her daughter, and instantly expired! * * * * * * * *

Her father digs a grave for her at a little distance from the cavern; and I behold the earth inclose all that I loved in this world! * * * * * *

What a trying moment! Pulauski alone prevented me from becoming the victim of despair: he forces me to survive Lodoiska! * * * * * * *

Lovzinski now endeavours to continue his narrative, but his tears prevent his utterance. He demands leave to retire for a moment, passes into a neighbouring apartment, and returns in a short time after with a miniature in his hand.

[Page 111]Behold, says he, the portrait of my dear Dorliski! behold how handsome she was while an infant! In her features, as yet scarcely deve­loped, I recognize those of her mother—Ah! if at length—

I now interrupt Lovzinski: What a beautiful face! exclaims I: she greatly resembles my hand­some cousin!

These are the rhapsodies of a lover, replies he; he sees the object of his adoration every where!

Ah, my dear friend, if Dorliska were restored to me!—But after ten years of an useless search, I can no longer hope to see her again.

With his eyes still diffused with tears, which he strives to retain, Lovzinski resumes the history of his misfortunes, in a voice overcome as it were with their excess:

Pulauski, whose courage never abandoned him, and whose strength was by this time restored, obliges me to occupy myself jointly with him, in the business of procuring our subsistence.

By following along the snow the prints of my footsteps, we arrive at length at the place where I had left my waggon, which we immediately unload, and burn soon after, on purpose to withhold from our enemies the most distant suspi­cion of the place of our retreat.

By the aid of our horses, for which we procure [Page 112] a passage by making a circuitous journey, instead of attempting to bring them straight to the place of our retreat, we were at length able to transport those provisions and moveables to our cavern, which it was so necessary for us to procure, and to husband, if we resolved to remain much longer in this solitude. We soon after killed our horses, which we were unable to supply with food. We lived upon their flesh, which the rigour of the season preserved for a considerable time; it corrupted, however, at length; and our fire-arms being unable to procure us any other than a scanty supply of game, we were obliged to have recourse to our provisions; which, at the end of three months, were entirely consumed.

Some gold, and the greater part of Lodoiska's diamonds, still remained. Should I make a second voyage to Pultava? or should we both run the hazard of such an undertaking, and quit our retreat in company? We had already suffered so much, and so cruelly in this forest, that we resolved to embrace the latter resolution.

We accordingly sally forth; we pass the Sem near Rylks; we purchase a boat there, and, dis­guising ourselves in the dress of fishermen, we descend that river, and enter the Desna.

Our boat was visited at Czernicove, but misery had so disfigured Pulauski, that it was impossible [Page 113] any longer to recognize him. We then enter the Dnieper; we cross from Kiof ^* to Krylow. There we were obliged to receive into our boat, and carry to the other side, several Russian soldiers, who were on their march to join a small army employed against Pugatchew.

At Zaporiskaia, we heard of the capture of Bender and Oczakow, the conquest of the Crimea, the defeat and subsequent death of the vizar Oglou.

Pulauski, reduced to a state of desperation, was anxious to traverse the vast deserts that separated him from Pugatchew, on purpose to join himself to that enemy of the Russians; but the excess of our fatigues obliged us to remain at Zaporiskaia.

The peace which was soon after concluded between Russia and the Porte, at length afforded us the means of entering Turkey.

On foot, and still disguised, we crossed the Boudziac, part of Moldavia, and Wallachia, and after a thousand unforeseen and unexpected difficulties and fatigues, we at length arrive at Adrianople.

[Page 114]Having remained for some time at this place, on purpose to repair our exhausted forces, we prepare to depart: but we are arrested, and, being carried before the cadi, are accused of having sold several diamonds in the course of our journey, which we had apparently stolen. The miserable clothes with which we were covered, had given rise to this suspicion.

Pulauski discovers himself to the mussulman judge, and he sends us immediately to Constan­tinople.

We are admitted shortly after to an audience of the grand seignior. He orders apartments to be prepared for us, and assigns us a liberal pension upon his treasury.

I then write to my sisters, and to Boleslas: we learn, by their answers, that all the property of Pulauski had been confiscated; that he was degraded from his rank, and condemned to lose his head.

My father-in-law is in the utmost consternation on receiving this intelligence: he is filled with indignation at being accused as a regicide: he writes home in his own justification.

Constantly animated, and devoured as it were with the love of his country, continually influenced by the mortal hatred which he had sworn against its enemies, he never ceased, during the four whole [Page 115] years that we remained in Turkey to endeavour, by his intrigues, to oblige the Porte to declare war against Russia.

In 1774, amidst a transport of rage, he receives intelligence of the triple invasion, ^* which bereaved the republic of one-third of its possessions.

It was in the spring of 1776, that the insurgents in America, fearful of the tyranny of an island which once boasted of its own liberties, resolved to redeem their violated rights by force of arms. My country hath lost her freedom, says Pulauski to me one day: but, ah, let us still fight for that of a new people!

We pass into Spain, we embark on board of a vessel bound for the Havannah, from whence we repair to Philadelphia. The congress instantly presents us with commissions, and employs us in the army of general Washington.

Pulauski, consumed with a black melancholy, exposes his life like a man, to whom life had become insupportable, is always to be found at the most dangerous posts, and towards the end of the fourth campaign, is mortally wounded by [Page 116] my side. Being carried to his tent, I instantly repair thither to console him.

I find that my end approaches, says he, addres­sing himself to me. Ah! it is but too true, that I shall never see my native country again!

Cruel, fantastical destiny! Pulauski falls a martyr to American liberty, and the Poles still continue slaves! * * * * * * * * * * * My friend, my death would be indeed horrible, if a ray of hope did not remain to cheer me! Ah! I hope I do not deceive myself—No, I am not mistaken, adds he in a firmer accent.

A consoling deity discloses in my last thoughts a futurity, a happier futurity which approaches!

I behold one of the first nations in the world awakening from a long and deep slumber, and re­demanding of its proud oppressors, its violated honours, and its ancient rights; its sacred, impre­scriptible rights, the rights of humanity.

I behold, in an immense capital, long dis­honoured by every species of servility, a crowd of soldiers discovering themselves to be citizens, and millions of citizens becoming soldiers.

Beneath their redoubled blows, the bastile shall be overturned; the signal is already given from one extremity of the empire to another;—the reign of tyrants is no more!

[Page 117]A neighbouring people, sometimes an enemy, but always generous, always worthy of deciding upon great actions, shall applaud those unexpected efforts, crowned with such a speedy success!

Ah, may a reciprocal esteem, commence, and strengthen between these two nations an unalter­able friendship! May that horrible science of trick, imposture, and treason, which courts denominate politics, hold out no obstacle to prevent this frater­nal re-union!

Noble rivals, in talents and philosophy, French­men! Englishmen! suspend at length, and suspend forever, those bloody discords, the fury of which has but too often extended over the two hemis­pheres;—no longer decide between you the empire of the universe, but by the force of your example, and the ascendancy of your genius. Instead of the cruel advantage of affrighting and subduing the nations around you, dispute between yourselves the more solid glory of enlightening their ignorance, and breaking their chains.

Approach, adds Pulauski; behold at a little distance from, and in the midst of the carnage that surrounds us, among such a croud of famous warriors, a warrior celebrated even in the midst of them, by his masculine courage, his early talents, and his virtues truly republican. He is the heir of a name long illustrious; but he had [Page 118] no occasion for the glory of his ancestors, to render himself celebrated.

It is young Fayette, already an honour to France, and a scourge to tyrants: but he has scarce begun his immortal labours!

Envy his fate, Lovzinski; endeavour to imitate his virtues, and follow as near as possible the steps of so great a man. He, the worthy pupil of a Washington, shall soon be the Washington of his own country. It is almost at the same time, my friend, it is at that memorable epoch of the regeneration of nations, that the eternal justice shall also present to our fellow-citizens, the days of vengeance and of liberty.

Then, Lovzinski, in whatever place thou mayest be, let thy hate re-kindle! Again combat gloriously on the side of Poland.

Let the remembrance of our injuries, and of our successes, call forth thy courage! May thy sword, so many times empurpled with the blood of our enemies, be still turned against those oppres­sors. May they tremble while thinking on thy exploits I May they tremble in recalling the name of Pulauski!

They have ravished from us our property; they have assassinated thy wife; they have robbed thee of thy daughter; they have dishonoured my memory!

[Page 119]The barbarians! They have dismembered our provinces! Lovzinski, these are injuries which you ought never to forget.

When our persecutors are those also of our country, vengeance becomes at once sacred and indispensable

You owe to the Russians an eternal hatred! You owe to Poland the last drop of your blood!

Saying this, he expires. ^*

Death, in snatching him from me, bereaved me of my last consolation.

My friend, I fought for the United States of America, until the happy peace which insured their independence. M. de C— who had served along with me, and who was attached to the corps commanded by the marquis de la Fayette —M. de C— gave me a letter of recommen­dation to the baron de Faublas. Your father took such a lively interest in my fate, that in a very short time we were connected together by the bonds of the strictest friendship.

I only quitted the province in which he resided, on purpose to come and live in Paris, where I knew that he would not be long in following me.

In the mean time, my sisters have collected the semall remainder of a fortune formerly immen [Page 120] Instructed of my arrival here, and of the [...] which I have assumed, they have informed me, that they intend to repair to this capital, on pur­pose to console the unfortunate Duportail with their presence.

Here ends M. Duportail's narrative. Our readers will have partly anticipated the sequel of the story. In the accomplished Sophia de Pontis, the ci-devant baron de Lovzinski finds his daugh­ter, the long lost Dorliska, but not till after she had been seduced and carried off from the convent by young Faublas.—A reconciliation at last takes place. Faublas is united to his Sophia. Lovzinski returns to his native country, and is restored to his fortune, his honours, and to the favour of his sovereign.