d the Count was carried, as
his attendants supposed, mortally wounded, from the field of contest. De
Courcy, however, was spared the commission of that crime; for, though
the Count's life was long despaired of, a good constitution prevailed,
and he at length recovered.

"De Courcy had made all his arrangements on the preceding night; and,
immediately after his interview with your mother, he quitted Paris
forever. A letter was left, addressed to her, which strikingly portrayed
the disordered state of his mind, and feelingly delineated the strength
of his affection, and the bitterness of his disappointment. Robbed, as
he believed, of her love, the world had no longer any thing to attach
him; and he resolved to bury himself in some retirement, which the vain
passions of life could never penetrate.

"I will pass over the agonizing scenes, the months of wretchedness which
succeeded this separation, this sudden dissolution of the most sacred
and endearing ties. All attempts to discover De Courcy's retreat were
unavailing, though it was long before your mother could relinquish the
delusive hope, that he would be again restored to her. We returned to my
father's house; but there every thing reminded her of happier days, and
served to increase her melancholy. Your birth was the only event which
reconciled her to life; but her health was then so precarious, we dared
not flatter ourselves, that she would be long continued to you. Her
physicians recommended change of air, and I accompanied her to a convent
on the borders of the Pyrenees, where she had passed a few years in
early childhood; and she earnestly desired to spend her remaining days
within its peaceful walls.

"The good nuns welcomed her to their humble retreat, in the midst of a
wild and romantic solitude; and, with unwearied kindness sought to
alleviate the sufferings of disease. For three months, I watched
unceasingly beside her; a heavenly resignation smoothed the bed of
sickness, and her wearied spirit was gently loosed from earth, and
prepared for its upward flight. You were the last cord that bound her to
a world which she had found so bankrupt in its promises, and this was
too strong to be severed, but by the iron grasp of death. As the moment
of her departure approached, she expressed a wish to receive the last
offices of religion; and a messenger was sent to a neighbouring
monastery of Jesuits to request the attendance of a priest. One of the
brotherhood soon