The Romance of the Forest | Page 6

Madame, finding herself much affected, took
leave of her for the night.
In the morning, La Motte rose at an early hour, impatient to be gone.

Every thing was prepared for his departure, and the breakfast had been
waiting some time, but Adeline did not appear. Madame La Motte went
to her chamber, and found her sunk in a disturbed slumber. Her
breathing was short and irregular Ñ she frequently started, or sighed,
and sometimes she muttered an incoherent sentence. While Madame
gazed with concern upon her languid countenance, she awoke, and,
looking up, gave her hand to Madame La Motte, who found it burning
with fever. She had passed a restless night, and, as she now attempted
to rise, her head, which beat with intense pain, grew giddy, her strength
failed, and she sunk back.
Madame was much alarmed, being at once convinced that it was
impossible she could travel, and that a delay might prove fatal to her
husband. She went to inform him of the truth, and his distress may be
more easily imagined than described. He saw all the inconvenience and
danger of delay, yet he could not so far divest himself of humanity, as
to abandon Adeline to the care, or rather, to the neglect of strangers. He
sent immediately for a physician, who pronounced her to be in a high
fever, and said, a removal in her present state must be fatal. La Motte
now determined to wait the event, and endeavoured to calm the
transports of terror, which, at times, assailed him. In the mean while, he
took such precautions as his situation admitted of, passing the greater
part of the day out of the village, in a spot from whence he had a view
of the road for some distance; yet to be exposed to destruction by the
illness of a girl, whom he did not know, and who had actually been
forced upon him, was a misfortune, to which La Motte had not
philosophy enough to submit with composure.
Adeline's fever continued to increase during the whole day, and at night,
when the physician took his leave, he told La Motte, the event would
very soon be decided. La Motte received this intelligence with real
concern. The beauty and innocence of Adeline had overcome the
disadvantageous circumstances under which she had been introduced to
him, and he now gave less consideration to the inconvenience she
might hereafter occasion him, than to the hope of her recovery.
Madame La Motte watched over her with tender anxiety, and observed

with admiration, her patient sweetness and mild resignation. Adeline
amply repaid her, though she thought she could not. "Young as I am,"
she would say, "and deserted by those upon whom I have a claim for
protection, I can remember no connection to make me regret life so
much, as that I hoped to form with you. If I live, my conduct will best
express my sense of your goodness; Ñ words are but seeble
testimonies."
The sweetness of her manners so much attracted Madame La Motte,
that she watched the crisis of her disorder, with a solicitude which
precluded every other interest. Adeline passed a very disturbed night,
and, when the physician appeared in the morning, he gave orders that
she should be indulged with whatever she liked, and answered the
inquiries of La Motte with a frankness that left him nothing to hope.
In the mean time, his patient, after drinking profusely of some mild
liquids, fell asleep, in which she continued for several hours, and so
profound was her repose, that her breath alone gave sign of existence.
She awoke free from fever, and with no other disorder than weakness,
which, in a few days, she overcame so well, as to be able to set out with
La Motte for B Ñ , a village out of the great road, which he thought it
prudent to quit. There they passed the following night, and early the
next morning commenced their journey upon a wild and woody tract of
country. They stopped about noon at a solitary village, where they took
refreshments, and obtained directions for passing the vast forest of
Fontanville, upon the borders of which they now were. La Motte
wished at first to take a guide, but he apprehended more evil from the
discovery he might make of his route, than he hoped for benefit from
assistance in the wilds of this uncultivated tract.
La Motte now designed to pass on to Lyons, where he could either seek
concealment in its neighbourhood, or embark on the Rhone for Geneva,
should the emergency of his circumstances hereafter require him to
leave France. It was about twelve o'clock at noon, and he was desirous
to hasten forward, that he might pass the forest