my assertions would but little avail against the power of an opulent family, who were all interested in preserving the character and honour of their worthless relation. The surgeon, to whom my father related my whole story, sympathized in our distresses. He saw no prospect of good to us in prosecuting my claims. The Count was married in the face of the world; had now a son and heir; no inducements, therefore, of honour or justice, would have any probability of success, where every thing militated against us. "My dear friends," added he, "to Heaven you must leave this unworthy man: Doubt not, but in it's own good time, providence will revenge your wrongs, and punish him. At this moment his feelings are not to be envied.—He must be callous, indeed, if the crimes he has committed, and the death of his father, who fell a victim to his deceptions, does not fill him with horror and hourly regret.
My dear father recovered very slowly;—and we held frequent consultations in what
