become more of a student than I used to be. I
always loved literature, but never, till of late, had I a mind enough at
ease to read with advantage. I now find pleasure in the occupation which
I never expected to find.

"You see in what manner I live. The letters which I brought secured me a
flattering reception from the best people in your country; but scenes of
gay resort had nothing to attract me, and I quickly withdrew to that
seclusion in which you now find me. Here, always at leisure, and
mistress of every laudable means of gratification, I am not without the
belief of serene days yet to come."

I now ventured to inquire what were her latest tidings of her husband.

"At the opening of the Revolution, I told you, he became a champion of
the people. By his zeal and his efforts he acquired such importance as
to be deputed to the National Assembly. In this post he was the adherent
of violent measures, till the subversion of monarchy; and then, when too
late for his safety, he checked his career."

"And what has since become of him?"

She sighed deeply. "You were yesterday reading a list of the proscribed
under Robespierre. I checked you. I had good reason. But this subject
grows too painful; let us change it."

Some time after, I ventured to renew this topic; and discovered that
Fielding, under his new name of Perrin d'Almont, was among the outlawed
deputies of last year,[1] and had been slain in resisting the officers
sent to arrest him. My friend had been informed that his _wife_,
Marguerite d'Almont, whom she had reason to believe a woman of great
merit, had eluded persecution, and taken refuge in some part of America.
She had made various attempts, but in vain, to find out her retreat.
"Ah!" said I, "you must commission me to find her. I will hunt her
through the continent from Penobscot to Savannah. I will not leave a
nook unsearched."

[Footnote 1: 1793.]

CHAPTER XLVII.

None will be surprised that, to a woman thus unfortunate and thus
deserving, my heart willingly rendered up all its sympathies; that, as I
partook of all her grief, I hailed, with equal delight, those omens of
felicity which now, at length, seemed to play in her fancy.

I saw her often,--as often as my engagements would permit, and oftener
than I allowed myself to visit any other. In this I was partly selfish.
So much entertainment, so much of the best instruction, did her
conversation afford me, that I never had enough of it