The ocean queen, or, The seaman's bride
page: 0Cover[View Page 0Cover]OCEAN 'QUEEN' OR, THE SEAMAN'S BRIDE. By the Author of "THE PALE LILY," &c. NEW YORK: DICK & FITZGERALD, PUBLISHERS, No.:18 ANN. STREET. page: 0 (Advertisement) [View Page 0 (Advertisement) ] MDW L& EtZG1RlAT1W'S LIST OF PUBLICATIONS. H0tT or n owsanmtTicwk with rc 'tSim. Illustrtted with over i Qsa. sgravings and containing clear and lnite $ ations how to perform with ease ? COydI De meptions Sleight-of-land :)i ,* o ^ th an endless variety of entertain- Iint 'i Drawing Boom or White Magic, hri esbtrated science of Second-Sight. To- *] --tl-t as ite noooltion of intricate and puzzling apE in ,han, natrl magic etc., t B th thtor of "The Sociable," ' The Magi I 'f" o ' ' Bootk, "Parlor Theetricals," etc, etc. a'rge " =mo, olotlh gilt side and back,-........price $1 ( ai3C o 2fU lOAJI d, or Factfor Everybody. By i tht alth oof "r nquire Within," "The Reason Whyh " tet Illustratd with over oe thousand en- ravi ng. 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Large 12mo, paper, 60 cents. Cloth,- ..........price -7 PHE ATTACHK, or Sam Slick in England. Large 12mo, paper, 50 cents. Cloth,................price .76 3AM SLICK'S SAYINGS AND DOINGS. Paper, 60 cents. Cloth,.....- ..price I7 This is a most amusing and witty collection of the )pinions, Sayings, and Doings of the famous Sam Slick, ;hat has ever been published. It gives the experiences )f the Yankee O lockmaker, and the incidents that occur- red in his journeyings over the world, together with h. ;. )bservations on men and things in general: also contain- ing his Opinionj on Matrimony. r KIRK'S EXPOSITI OF ODD-FELLOWSIm? - Including the Secret Signs, Passwords, and Charges of the Five Degrees, as practiced by the Order in the UoTited States. By Jon KIRK, an Expelled Member of Manhattan Lodge, No. 36. Illustrated with thirty- " nix Engravings, . ............................ price 16 MOROA!NS uirjl;MASONRY EXPOSED AND EXP INED.. 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HOW TO BEHAVE, or The Spirit of Etiquette: A complete Guide to Polite Society, for Ladies and Gen- tlemen; containing Rules for good behavior at the dinner table, in the parlor, and in the street; irit im -. portant hints on introduction, and the art of conversa- tion ...................pri page: 0 (TitlePage) [View Page 0 (TitlePage) ] THE OCEAN QUEEN; OR THE SEAMAN'S BRIDE. By TMi' Aiui roF "TimE uim Lrnr," lc NEW YORK: DICK FITZGERALD No. 18 ANN STREET. page: 0[View Page 0] THE OCEAN QUEEN; OR THE SEAMAN'S BRIDE. A TALE OF IMPRESSMENT TIMES. CHAPTER. I. THE MINIATURE SCHOONER. a On the sea shore of Massachusetts, and near the ffourishing town of there lived in the year of our Lord s eighteen hundred and eleven, a family r of consideiable, wealth and importance, k designated by the name of lHarston. i The faiuily gloried in their high anccs- t trial parentage, and in the country t which gave them bithh-- which prond s country was then and still is designat- ed by the appellation of "Old Eng- land." Butt, though it was that noble coun try in which laid the inheritance of Abram Iarstoni, anid though that coun- try was extremely picturesque and beautiful, possessing all the means of' rendering a life of haplpiness and enjoy- ment, yet, I say, considering all of these, , Harston, in the year 1790, sold his noble possessions, and accompanied by his wife and two children, both lovely boys, one thrce and the other Cone year old, emigrated to the TUsited States, where the young nobleman found his equals in the laborer and mechanic; and settled near the thriving town of , in the before-mentioned State. A site was chosen near the sea- shore for a farm, and on a gentle emi- nence, near the centre of the many broad acres, was reared a lordly edifice, imitating the custom of his proud coun- trynmen. The edifice of Abram Hars- ton was indeed a noble-looking man- sion; but it scarcely presentetl a more enllchalting sight thllari te broad green lawn, which stretched slopingly down toward the ocean shore-or the tall, branchin r shade trees which shaded it,--the long, regular, and almost overr I stocked bjeds of the choicest and various t' kiitds of flowers which, united, sent up - a fragrance of surpassing and enticing s, sweetness, and which extended along s and on both sides of the main path y or gravel-walk, the whole length of y the lawn--the numerous small mounds r whichl spotted the lawin, and which s, were embellished with plants, vines, and page: 2-3[View Page 2-3] flowers of the choicest description; in short, the whole premises presented a view of comfort, and happiness, and splendor, that nature and art could scarcely surpass. The family of Abram Harston was composed of himself and his wife, both of whom had almost arrived, at the time our story commences, at the meri- dian of life,--two sons, William and Henry, the former twenty-four and the latter twenty-two years of age, and a lovely daughter of seventeen summers, whol was just assuming the ripeness of womanhood. William, the eldest of the two sons, was, and had been for thile previous twelve montls, studying for the legal profession, in which he liad made con- siderable progress, while Icenry remain- ed at home, and attended to the affairs of the farm, &c. Now, as our main characters are partly introduced to the reader, we will come more immediately to our sl;ory, and let it introduce them, and all other clharacters that may appear more satisfactorily. It was sunset, or more properly, the sun was slowly sinking to rest behind the gor(geous and brightly illuminated curtains of the western horizo n. White ( fleecy clouds were flying in the atmos- j phere, colltinunlly changing their differ- t ent shapes, and no mcan contrast to I the clear blue ether. Those clouds in ( the east kept unchanged their snow- 1 white, pure, and virgin-like color, while \ those inl tlic west, and all, in fact, that t were in perf'ect range of the God of I day's brighlt, warm rays, were rendered C the color of gold, forming a scene of t resplendent magnificence, which so en- , raptures the untiring gaze of the bchol- q der. n It was the close of a hot sultry day a in the month of July, eighteen hundred I and eleven. The day had been exceed- i ingly hot, at least for that latitude, with scarcely a refreshing breeze, either 3 from land or sea, which increased, or i appeared to increase, the heat of the 3 dazzling luminary. At least so thought * he, who was out in range of the intol- I erable rays, and surely, he was not so : erring in his opinion; for if it did not , so much increase the heat, it certainly increased the effects of the heat to a considerable degree. The last parting rays of the meridian orb disclosed far out on the calm " deep blue sea," a small, neat, and for the size of it, apparently swift looking schooner. Cool breezes swept gratefully o'er the surface of both the sea and land, which partly repaid for the ex- ceeding warmth of the day. The can- vass of the little schooner was set, and stretched its full size to the wind, which carried the miniature schooner along at a rapid and excellcrated rate. In troth, she fairly flew over the wavy surface of the ocean. The schllooner was manned by five strong-handed men, dressed in sailor costume. One, whom from his superior dress, and by the orders which he gave from time to time, appeared to have the unlimited authority and honor of presiding as Captain over the little craft. The general appearance of the little crew, however, was, that they were a superior order of seamen, for their physiognomies declared thenm to be a generous, high-soulcd, and noble crew of seamen, and they also lacked the rough words and demeanor common among seamen. Combined with these qualities were jovialness and mirth, ren. dering them a jolly crew He who appeared, to be Captain, was to no other-than Henry Harston, the son h l of Abram Harston, the proprietor of w Fairprospect-for thus Mr. Harston tii had denominated his place of residence. di The schooner was the property of Hen- w ry Harston, who, with a few compan- h ions,'often, in their recreation hours, h took a sail in their little craft in quest of st adventure and amusement. They were all brave men, aud knew not fear. e Henry liarston was a specimen of t manly beauty. -He was about six feet N in height, of a heavy, sinewy, muscular, and symmetrical figure, in which were e blended activity and power to a won- derful degree. His face wore an air of , intelligence, good nature, and jovialness. t With features regular land expressive, were added long, curling locks of hair which clustered around his finely form- ed head, eyes dark, expressive, and very penetrating, black and somewhat heavy eyebrows, and beard black as the raven's wing, but which only covered fancifully his well rounded chin. The rest of his beard'was cleanly shaven off: Combin- ed with these exterior qualities were a noble heart, a kind and noble disposi- tion-in short, he was all honor. But there was in his manner when excited, resolve, determination, perseverance, fire and enthusiasm, lwhich would shine forth in. every lineament and motion, if not curbed. On sped the little schooner, graceful- ly riding the waves, which arose and fell gently as a imaiden's bosom. The seamen were lounging about in differ- ent portions of the ship, engaged in their own reflections, and anon, spinning yarns to one another, or admiring the evening scene. Captain Harston was leaning with one arm on the gunwale, with his faoe turned from the little boat toward the east, keenly sweeping the horizon with his dark, piercing eye.. It was evident from the absorbing and un- tiring gaze which he cast toward one direction, that something of importance was taking place in that direction; for he looked long and steady. At length he turned to one of the seamen, and still keeping his eye on the object, said: "Mr. Marten, cast your eyes to the east, and see if you can describe any- thing; and give me your opinion of whatever you can discover." "I will do it with pleasure," answer- ed he, "but if your glass is handy"- "I left my glass at home this eve- ning, not thinking it of any use," re- turned the captain. "Well,. then, I must trust to my na- ked'eye vWhich, however, sometimes de- ceives Ine. !!e ceased speaking, and threw his s gaze in every direction; but for some time in vain. At length his persevering look was rewarded by the appearance of a daik object a league or more away to ' the east. Turning to the captamn he sid-- it "I have discovelrtl an olject which 1, looks very much like a sfil. I cannot, e however, say with any certainty whether , it is one or not; but it is my opinion )t it is." "That is also my opinion, and I am 1- quite certain that we are right. See I id she is tacking about, and crowding her lie sail, and directing her course immedi- ,r- ately toward us! We must be cautious, ,il for if I mistake not she is a British yg sloop of war. We must lay still, and- he keep near enough the shore, so that we a can reach it; for if they should come le, up with us;, there is no doubt but that at they will impress us in their service, page: 4-5[View Page 4-5] But-ha! what object have we yon- deri" They both looked eagerly in the di- rection which Captain Iiarston pointed out, and in a short time the object had drifted near enough to enable them to distinguish that it was a human form clinging to an oar, or something of the kind. The sloop still continued on to- ward the schooner, and was nearing it fast, which was perceived by the Cap- tain of the schooner; who seeing that prompt action was required, in a loud tone said: "Tack about shipl Sheer her bow to the east, and let her calm!" "But, Captain, are we not running in danger of the sloop-of-war? Seel she is increasing her speed, and she now almost flies! Think you we are not , risking most too much?" asked Marten. "We will run considerable risk; but it shall not be said that Henry Harston ever deserted a fellow being in di3tress, because he risked his own life thereby. No, Maiten, I am determined to have that body in this ship, whether it is a dead, or alive animated one! Still, per- haps, if we are prompt and energetic, we shall accomplish it and yet reach the shore in safety. I am at least de- termined to attempt it; that much we can certainly do." i "O save me 1 quick!" was shrieked t' from the object, in the pleading tones a of a female, t "It shall be done!" shouted Harston in a determined and calm tone. "Thank God, I have one friend H Quick! or I'll drown!" again shrieked the object in hurried tones, seeming to have heard the exclamation of Captain Harston. ti Captain Harston did not wait for any ii precaution being taken for his s&fety, p ha but with his noble, generous, and -cha acteristic impulse, leaped into the sea i- and swam toward the object, and was d soon strugling vigorously against the d waves. The object was distant from o the schooner about two hundred yards, n and from it arose in a despairing, shriek- e ing tone-"O Quick!"This redoubled his exertions, and soon he reached the t form, which proved to be that of a young - woman. (t The sloop still kept on like the wind, I and when Captian Harston had reached the object he sought, it was within a mile and a half of the schooner. The men on board of the schooner perceiv. ing it would be impossible for Harston I to reach the schooner with his burden, immediately set their sails and pushed t on toward him. In a short time they came up with him, and just in time. Ite was strugrgling manfully, but his strength was nearly exhausted. A rope was thrown toward hiln, which he grasp- ed, and clinging to the unconscious form of the female, was drawn with safety upon the deck of the little schooner. No sooner had they landed on deck, than a loud shout arose from the little crew of, "Hurrah! for our gallant cap. tain! Hurrah! for Captain Ilarston." The heroic young captain, still hold- ing in his arms the insensible form of thile rescued one, rushed into the cabin, and laid her on a rough bed that was there. CHAPTER II. MTE ESCAPE FROM PiRIL. WHEN Captain Harston returned to the deck of his little craft, after dispos- ing as his humble circumstances would permit, of the form of the rescued one. he cast his eyes in the direction of the er approaching sloop, and for the first time sy fairly conceived the critical position of at himself and his crew. Scarcely' more Ic than a mile away, and bearing directly E toward them at a surprising and unsur- n passing rate, came the winged pursuer, g her sails spread to their utmost extent, s( and with all other fixtures in a condition e for speed and a somewhat long chase. s The coast was distant a long league, c and with the advantages which the v sloop had of more sail and speed, and f the short distance that intervened be- tween the two unequal crafts-consid- s ering these important advantages, the k little crew could scarcely be supposed to j contain a single or cheering hope of , their escape by the speed of their little E vessel. Yet, notwithstanding these gloo- 1 my and almhnost certain forebodings of the fate which seemed to be surely awaiting them, they remained firm, calm, and collected, despairing-not, but fall of hope, and a silent determination. As soon as Captain Harston perceiv- ed the critical state of affairs, he in a loud tone shouted, "Spread every stitch of canvass to the wind, and sheer toward the coast! Hurrah! my menl be speedy in your actions, for slowness will avail us nothing in this instance!" With alacrity every man sprang to his respective duty, and soon they were among the rigging, transforming various portions of it with an agility which seemed like enchantment. In an ex- ceeding short space of time the sails were set, and given to the wind, and the schooner sheered in the direction of the shore. Nobly did she perform her destined work. Her light timbers creaked and groaned under the power- ful pressure of canvass, forming togeth- er with the noise of the water, as it was split by the sharp bow of the schooner, and was rustled by the stern as it fol- lowed in the same track, a mixture of music, not unmixed with harmony and melody. On, on she flew, and strug- gled nobly and manfully, but alas! it seemed in vain; for the larger ship was evidently gaining on them slowly yet surely; and yet the little crew were full of successful hopes. They knew they were doing all that could be done, there- fore they felt calm and resigned. Swiftly onward came the pursuing ship. The crew were shouting loud and boisterous, seemingly sure of their prey. From her tall mast floated proudly and vaunntingly the flag of England, which seemingly looked scornfully ahead at the ' stars and stripes,' which were un- furled from the masts of the schooner, still distant some three quarters of a mile, or a mile. Still onward came the ' pursuer and pursued; the former sure of succcss, the latter scarcely thinking to escape, yet hoping that such might 1 be the fortunate conclusion of the chase. When the men who were ordered I aloft had adjusted the rigging as much as possible to their advantage, and re- turned on deck, their youthful calptain, in a calm, commanding voice, that had not the slightest resemblance to fear or e irresolution, thus addressed them: S "My noble, though not many num- h bering men! It is very evident, as you K- all perceive most likely, that we are in Is quite a critical position; being in a small, d unarmed vessel, our force being small, in while we are about two miles from m shore, which we must reach, and that, rs too, before a vessel of larger dimensions r- and greater speed, which is scarcely a h-, mile away. Think you we can do it! page: 6-7[View Page 6-7] It is barely probable I If we do succeed in doing it, it will be by a chance streak of fortune; therefore, we need not count with certainty on it for de- liverance. "Men I it is certain as the ' falling of a log', that if we are overtaken we will be impressed into the British service: for mark me! that is her 'game' now.- But, how are we to escape from that sloop? It seems utterly impossible, still we may manage it. Ha! something strikes me, and tells me we shall yet es- cape! Fortunate thought was that, in- deed. Now, my gallant menI the means to escape are in our power, if we but exert ourselves. Let us show those ple- sumptous ' red coats' the 'genuine stuff' which we Yankees are made of! "It appears plain to me, my fellows, that they, our pursuers, wish Lo impress us in their service; but this is not the only cause for which they are in pursuit of us-of this, I am quite confident. That lady, whom we rescued but a short time ago,was swimming from that sloop- of-war, or at least had jumped overboard from her for some reason. That she is an American lady, or rather an American girl, I have no doubt; but how, or what for, .she became a residtent of that sloop I kaow not; but I well know she is a resident of it ing lovNer, nor shall she be, so help me God! Perhaps, it is her they are after more than our impressment! If she was conscious we would soon know. Poor little flower! I am afraid the drenching that she has had will be of no benefit to her! And so handsome! One would have thought-- "But my plan mrust be immediately carried into effect, or we are certainly lostl Yes, men, inevitably lost! But let us to work! It is needless, nay dan- gerous, to multiply words here. I my- self will manage the helm, and pilot us, I hope, safely through our present critical condition. So each man to his place: two of you go aloft, and see that the sails are all spread as much as pos- sible, and the rest may stav on deck." As soon as he had, concluded, he walked aft, and saying a few words to the man at the helm, who started off to another part of the ship, took his place, and soon the keen, penetrating eyes as well as the hands of the captain, were busy piloting the little schooner on its course. Of the balance of the crew, two of them went aloft, while the others re- mained on deck. The beach some half a mile above the mansion of Abram Harston, for about a mile, or perhaps a mile and a half in length, was a low piece of ground, which extended -out into the sea somewhat over a mile, formnng quite a peninsula. This peninsular por- tion of land, as we before remarked, was very low, and almost always covered with water of sufficient depth as to be rendered passable by vessels of very small dimensions, and to appear consi- derably deeper than it really was, ren- dering it quite a dangerous place for ships of a very large burthen. This place had been often noticed by our hero, and many times passed over by him in his little schooner. He had often perceived the advantages which this low place would afford to a vessel of his size, if pursued by one of larger dimensions and deeper hold. This place, therefore, had not been noticed in vain, His memory had reminded him of this fortunate place, and that, too, just in time to save himself and crew from the civilized clutches of their pursuers, and also to run the latter into a predica- ment from which it would be no easy matter to extricate themselves with safe- a ty. This, then, was the fortunate rendez- 1 vous which so inspired the Captain of the almost heaven-forsaken little schoon- a er with bright hopes of his escape, and impressed him with the anticipation of I his enemy's discomfiture. It was directly to this point that I Captain Hlarston steered the schooner, when he released the man, at the helm, at the sartre time taking his place in that capacity, which he did with a skill acquired only by lonr and constant practice. He sheered the ship's prow to the northward, and the good craft bore down to the place with great speed, as much, at least, as possible. Captain Harston well knew that if he was only admitted to reach the desired point be- fore his pursuer came up with him, he was safe; were it otherwise, he feared to contemplate the scenes that would certainly follow their capture. On, on, they camel the fugitive schooner, and her larger pursuer. Their sharp bows ploughed the surface of the immense body of water, furrowing it in huge furrows, which again became still and calm like the ocean waves. Bapid was the flight of the fugitive, but swifter was the pursuit as the wind im- pelled them both forward. There was but a short intervening distance between the two vessels, when the schooner came and passed on smoothly over the shallow covered pen- insula. The little crew then sent up a long, loud shout of defiance and rejoic- ing which astonished the British crew, who supposed they had their enemy r completely in their power. They ex- changed looks of wonder and astonish- ment, but the good ship kept boldly on. Soon they came to the low water; the %hip, going as it was, struck, and a jar was felt, which plainly told that the ship had seriously grounded, and that the- chase was over. -Still, on rushed the at last heaven-favored schooner. Twilight had arrived when our little party landed on" the beach in front of Abram Harston's residence. After they had perceived themselves safe from fur- ther pursuit, the schooner's direction was again changed in the course of the lordly possessions of the Captain!s fa- ther. When within a few hundred yards of shore, the Captain resignedhis place at the helm to the former oc- cupant, gave the ship in charge of Mar- ten, who acted in the capacity of First Lieutenant, and went below in the ca- bin where still remained his protege. She had just awakened from her swoon, and was sitting upright in bed, watching with intense excitement. the appearance of the ship. She turned her beautiful, though pale face up in the direction of Captain [arston, who remained unperceived, and muttered as if to herself: Wh'at a strange dream,:but is it In- deed a dream, or have I really escaped from that cursed ship? It certainly is not a dream-but reality I for see this is a smaller but humbler cabin, yet I had rather repose on a bed of thorns and ilive in the meanest hovel, than in the luxuriant cabin of the ship of Cap- tain Wilmor. O, what a terrible man - is he!" I "But how did I escape, and when!" - she asked herself, after she finished , speaking the above, pressing her small, r white, dimpled hands to her throbbing - temples, evidently trying to recall the - past. After remaining in this position for some time, she started up and said: ie Oh, merciful God I the God of the r orphan and the persecuted! I thank page: 8-9[View Page 8-9] Thee, that Thou hast indeed suffered me, sinful though I am, to escape from those whom I utterly detest! But, how came I here? Ah, yes; I remember now! I jumped overboard, and swam toward a small schooner which I saw a distance from me, and was nearly drowned, when a noble youth leaped over the bulwarks of the little vessel into the ocean, and just in time! I can remember no more! I hope he has suf- fered nothing through me. Oh! how I long to see him and thank lhim with my boundless gratitude for the inestium- able service he has rendered me in so short a time.?' "Io did no more than his duty!" uttered a deep, manly voice by her side. She looked up, and a red, glowing tint of carnation overspread her resplen- dent features, heightening to a great degree her unsulpassing beauty, as she saw standing immediately beside her the noble and handsome face and figure of the gallant young captain, her pre- server, and the man whose noble and generous qualities she had been express- ing in such high terms, as she thought to herself, but actually in his presence. "Well, noble sir, I sincerely thank you for the interest you took in my un- worthy self, and rest assured you shall always be estimated as a true friend," answered she with downcast eyes, and heightened color. "But your name, my noble rescuer! will you honor me by a knowledge of it; if you will, you will much oblige me," inquired she, looking with admiration at her companion's fine figure. "It is Henry Harston at your ser- 1 vice, madam," replied our hero. "And ( yours!" "Is .Eva Winthrop," returned she ( with franknes s f The captain bowed respectfully and continued: "Miss Winthrop, we are now very near my. home, and you will please to remain with us as long as it suits your pleasure." "I accept your offer, for I am an or, phan and homeless; but I will remain there only until I can get a situation in some honorable capacity. I fear that is asking too much of you." "Not at all. Father is what is call- ed rich in worldly goods, and I have an affectionate sister, who is somewhat lonely, and who will be happy to wel- come you in our family," said Henry. Eva said nothing, but gave her arm to him, and suffered him to lead her to Fairprospect, the inmates of whllich were surprised at the sight; but Henry re- lated the particulars of her rescue, and she in return related the noble conduct of our hlero, and also the main particu- lars of her history, which we will lay be- fore the reader in the next chapterl, and which melted away their surprise. CHAPTER III THE CAPTURE AND IMPRESSMENT, EVENING! IIow supremely beauti- ful is the view which is presented to the beholder's eye on a bright summer's evening! When the intolerable heat of the atmosphere had subsided with the departure of the God of day, and when pale Luna arises above the summits of the eastern wood and highlands, and throws her soft, pale, mellow light upon every object, revealing them indistinct- ly it is true--oh, how transcendantly splendid is the sight; and how bappy i feel those who are contented, and hon- e&t, and innocent, both in mind and dis- t position, as they gaze upon the scene. i It wasi a bright evening in the latter c part of July, some two weeks after the events related in the foregoing chapter. 1 The evening was calllm and clear, and t possessed all the influence whichh, we V have taken the liberty to imperfectly I describe above. The sun had long since sank to rest behind the western horizon, and pale Luna, the undisputed j an(d unrivaled goddess of night, had un- cereimoniously usurped his place. On the evening in question, with strulggling moonbeams shining full in their upturned faces, as they were re- garding the bea uties of the evening, were sa:ted, on the mossy grass under one of the stately trees in front of Fair- prospect lHall, a young lady and gen- tleeman in the maturity of life. They were talking respectfully to eachl other on vaiious topics, and upon the whole welre maintaining quite an interesting and lively conversation. But, as a description of them both will be quite necessary, we will endeav- or to give a partial one to the reader. One of them was a young man of about one-and-twenty years of age; and fi'omn llis tall, coinmainding, sirnewy, mus- cular and synnmmetrical form, his hand- soine face on which was depicted plainly a noble and generous disposition, and from his graceful and easy movements, the reader will hlave no difficulty in iden- tifying hiln as our hero, Henry Hars- ton. The other was a young lady over whose head had passed perhaps seven- teen summers--she had in fact arrived at the ripeness of womanhood. O! she was indeed a beautiful creature-so lovely that sle appeared more than mortal. Her face was turned toward the south, so that the bright silvel moon revealed distinctly every charm of her external beauty. She was a little above the medium height, of a straight, graceful,' volup- tuous and symmetrical form, which rea minded one of the fairies of olden time. Her face was perfectly Grecian in its outlines--high forehead, full, soft, de- licate and downy cheeks, on which was illustrated to a wonderful degree the blending of the lily an(d the rose. Long raven locks of a dark hue -were combed smnoothly on the sides of her well-form- ed and well-balancedl head, and suffer- ed to fall in bewitching and exquisite curls on her white alabaster shoulders, which contrasted finely with the dark dress which she wore. Our unworthy pen has attempted to desclibe the external charms of Eva Winthrop, and we can but acknowledge that we have not done them justice in the small space allotted to us. But if attempting to describe the external qualities of our heroine, for such she shall hereafter be considered, was a vain idea, how conceitedly vain yro!'d have been the effort to describe her interior chllarms and qualities? Vain indeed! No pen, however gilfted with descrliptive powers, or no penci'l guided by a mas- ter hand and a 11(:ead of perfect organ- ization, could -possibly do., just:ce to her amlliable disposition, her pure, innozent, loving, and true heart, and, in short, all her excellent virtues. But, as the history of our fair hero- rine would prove interesting to the rea- der, and as we promised to give it in this chapter, we may as well lay it be. f e him in this connection. Eva Winthrop was born on the sea- i coast, some twenty miles below the seat I of Abram Harston,about the year 1794 page: 10-11[View Page 10-11] Her father was wealthy, and while he enjoyed the pleasures of life, he attend- ed to Eva's education with, an eye single to her interest alone. Her mo-' ther also combined her energies to those of her father, and she became an ac- complished and intelligent young girl. But alas! not long didoshe enjoy her father's and mother's dear complanion- ship. They both died when she was twelve years of age, and she and her' inheritance were placed in the hands of her uncle. He was an avaricious old man, and was anxious to become weal- thy and important. He therefore resolv- ed to obtain by some means at least a good share of his niece's inheritance. With this view, when Eva had comn- pieted her sixteenth year, he betrothed ber to an Englishl officer namied NVil- mor, a vicious and unpreposses-sing fellow, witl the understlandinig that he was to receive two-thirds of the fortune of his niece. Eva repulsed cl' I over's advances with scorn, and told him and her uncle, in plain terms, that she would never be his wife; but they were not to be baffled in this manner. So one dark night Wilmor abducted her to his ship wilih the full consent of her uncle, though he raved and storlned tabout it the next morning. She iwas kcptin the cabin of the Einglish sloop-of-war, lwhichl was luxuriantly furnished, until about a fortnight after, when she was r:,scued by Captain Ilarston, as has been relat- ed to the reader. Eva in conformity with her deter- mination, after she had resided n ith the Harstons one week, told them of her intention of procuring employment of some kind, for she resolved never to re- turn to her unnatural uncle, but Martla, Henry's sister, and her mother, who had become much attached to Eva, plead so hard for her to remain with them, till at last she was induced to stay. From the time of her invitation to Fair- prospect, Eva and 'Henry had become much attached to each other;' but whether it was merely friendship, or whether it was an intimacy which wax. ed warmer with every breeze, let the following conversation testify. "Eva," said HEarston in reply to some remnark previously made by her, and digressing suddenly from the subject, as a sudden thought seemed to strike him, "you said, if I mistake not, that you were an orphan-that your father and mother departed their lives while you were yet young." "Alas! it is but too true! I am so unfortunate as to possess neither fa- ther nor mother. I am the only hleir to considerable wealth, it is true, but I am in a manner homeless, for I would not place myself again under my unnatural u:elc and guardian's protection, for all tle minies and wealth of Peru! Oh, in- deed I would not! Oh, no!" She paused awhile as past scenes arose vividly before her, and then con- tinued : "Ah! mine is a sad condition; there is no one to whom I may look with con- fidence for protection. There is no one to whose interest it will be to protect nme, therefore I need nlot look for it; nor do I friom any quarter. All my kindred are gone, except an only uncle and his children. And what an uncle! I scarcely dare llthink we are related! He who is honored with the sacred post of watching a brothelr's child, should not I think have left one single stone un- turned which related to the happiness of his ward; but instead of doing this, he has sought to tyrannize over me, on pur pose that his avaricious appetit might be gratified by a share of the inherit- ance of a poor orphan girl, which was a trust sacredly bestowed upon him by a dear brother with his departing life." "But," replied Henry in a frank, cheering and manly tone, "Eva, you have friends who will exert themselves to their utmost in your cause, or any- thing relating to your welfare." "Friends I may have, perhaps, who will willingly protect me; but it must needs be a nearer tie to induce a sure protection from trials and privations which continually (surround us in the journey through life," returned the fair Eva, her face turning crimson as a -senso of the sentence came before her. Henry had noticed the sentence which had been so innocently uttered, and he also noted the blush of modesty that overspread his fair companion's face, and in a low, distinct, manly voice replied: "Eva, dear Eva! I would be nearer to you than a friend; would, if possible, possess a nearer tie--one which will five me the right to protect you. In. short, Eva, I love you!" This sudden and unexpected declara- tion caused the carnation to leave the f ice of Eva, leaving it as pale as sculp- tured marble. She turned her head to one side, where it remained for awhile, but at last it was returned, and her soft blue eyes were turned upon him lovingly, as she in a sweet voice utter- ed: "Henry, you have heroically protect- ed me in the hour of trial I Why then , should I refuse your offered protection?l. , and she was clasped in her future hus- band's arms; and the promise was seal- ed by a mutual kiss-of true love. E Let us now return and briefly follow t up the fortunes of the British sloop -of I t- war "Splitwave," commanded by Cap. s tain Wilmor, which had grounded while y pursuing the ship of Captain Henry I' iarston, designated by the name or :, "The Ocean Queen," which lofty epi- 1 thet he had also laughingly bestowed s upon the lovely Eva. When -the Splitwave had grounded, she was going at a rapid rate, and was ) consequently in a very serious posi- t tion. Very fortunately for them, no- ; thing was very seriously injured, neither were any lives lost. She lay there un- til morning, when by great exertion of 3the crew, she was hauled off.. - Again her sails were set, and the ship gallant. ly rode the waves in a southern direc- tion, keeping the while close to shore. About noon she arrived at the farm of Old Winthrop, Eva's uncle. Hcere he sails were lowered, and the sloop anchor- ed, after which Captain Wilmor left the sloop, and entered the mansion, and ac- quainted Winthrop with the poor suc- cess attendant upon his adventure.- They both raved and swore at their ill- luck, and at the same time determined on revenge upon the heroic Captain of the Ocean Queen, and also to kidnap the girl if possible. After a long con- versation, which concerned a plan for their future actions, Captain Wilmor left the house, and returned on board of his ship. Again the sails were spread, and the gallant ship pursued her course in a northern direction, leaving but a short intervening distance between it and the shore, as before. They proceed- ed onward in this manner until they came to a place about two miles sobth of Abram Harston's. Here was a very narrow, deep harbor, which ran back a short distance, and then made a sudden turn; and huge trees surroupding this place made it a safe hiding-place for the page: 12-13[View Page 12-13] crew of the Splitwave, where they could ar remain unmolested for perhaps a long ai 'time. n They staid in their place of conceal- b ment some three weeks, without seeing n the object of their search; but a few d days after the love-scene mentioned in i] this chapter, the crew of the Splitwave t espied about sunset, and scarce one Walf t mile from them, the tiny Ocean Queen. t Our hero felt unusually cheerful on the f evening in question ; for tlat very morn- ing the marriage day was fixed upon t and he was now on his journey toward the soutlh on some business pertaining \ to the coming wedding. Captain Wil- y mor, fearing lest delay would suffer the ( schooner, by some chance streak of for- tune to escape, had'no sooner seen the little craft than he crowded on all sail, and the two unequal vessels were once more endeavoring to outdo each other. It was destined that the schooner should not escape, for the chances were greatly against her. Soon the Splitwave came up withl the Ocean Queen, and the crew seeing that all efforts to escape would avail them nothing, suffered themselves to be taken prisoners, and impressed in the British service, though they loudly protested against the latter proceeding. CHAPTER IV. PLANS, AND IMPORTANT STEPS TOWARD THEIR ACCOMPLISIIMENT. CAPTAIN IIARSTON and the crew of the Ocean Queen submitted to the va- rious indignities and epithets which were heaped upon them by their cap- tor, with the best possible grace -and manner. These taunts were bitter, and followed each other in quick succession; and so deeply engrossed in their utter- ance was the crew, that they did not notice the little schooner shooting off before the wind. By the time it was noticed, it had floated a considerable distance, and the ,worthy Captain being in a considerable hurry, thought it best to let it float onward unmolested. He then turned to the seamen and cursed them heartily for not being more watch- ful than they were, and then turning to our hero, who stood calmly regarding things, tauntingly said: "Well, my pretty Captain! you thought a day or two ago, perhaps, that your little, insignificant raft of a vessel could leave my clumsy craft behind, ha? "I did not think much about it. On- , ly I did my best to keep clear of you" answered Captain Harston with an un- daunted and calm look. "I "You did keep clear of me that time; : but it was only by a trick that the tricky e Madam Fortune played upon me! Oh, v but Ishould like to lhave caught you 1 then, and taken the hussy from you by s force, and without ceremony! But the I Fates -may favor me yet! Thley have y favored me once, and but one more step "is to be gained, and my revenge is com- plete! exclaimed Captain Willnor in a violent fit of frenzy. "Then Miss Winthrop was a passen- ger on board of your ship," inquired Captain Harston with a disdainful look D of supreme contempt, turning his dark eye directly upon his e!lemy. Of "Yes! you and her together man- a- Caged to escape me once, d-n you, but :h depend on't, you shall suffer for it yet, p- or else there is no h-1 " was the fero- id cious reply. id "Tha! it is for revenge that you have n; captured me; and you wish to have revenge both on myself and her who is dear to me as my own heart's blood? Do with me what you please, but oh! harm her not!"The latter was said in an earnest, pleading tone; but sud- denly changing his tone he continued: "But, pshaw! you dare, you cannot harm her! she is too pure, lovely and innocent, and remember! there is an avenging God, who is the friend of the persecuted. Beware! else you bring his avenging hand upon you!" "Ia! ha! ha!" laughed the brutal Captain. "What do you suppose I care for either God or devil! I tell you, mnost noble sir, that before another moon fills and wanes, Eva Winthrop shall be again in the power of the man she has taken the liberty to scorn heretofore, else I am no prophet." "Haughty and boasting Briton!" returned Captain Hiarston speaking with startling earnestness and distinctness, "know you that you will never succeed in capturing herl And know you more than that. Ere another revolution has been completed around the sun by the earth which we inhabit, your proud and potent countrymen shall be humbled by the Young America which did humble her in years gone by, and that too at its very birth. And, furthermore, haugh- ty Briton! you shall keep me confined here a prisoner no longer than that time, for thus the Fates have decreed. Say, British tyrant, how like you my prophecy? and how think you it cor- responds with yours? Not a very exact comparison, is it, noble Captain, ha ." The latter was said in a tone of sting- ing sarcasm quite foreign to our hero's nature, but which he had to assume in order to matchl the boasting Englishman. The words, and the manner in which the Captain of the sloop used them, es- pecially in relation to Eva Winthrop, raised his actions and speech to the highest pitch, which found vent in the sarcastic- exclamation quoted above.-* The language and bearing of our hero as he was speaking, with his dark eye turned full upon Captain Wilmor, and penetrating his very soul, caused a thrill of awe and complete astonishment to course through the Briton's veins, and vibrato his very frame. "Ha! ha! ha! my fine fellow; what agony you feel I But, sir, you had bet- ter have a care of your boasting words -have a care of your boasting words, sir," replied the Captain of the sloop. "I am a captive in your hands, it is true; and subject to whatever punish- ment you may see fit to inflict upon me; but sir, please bear in mind that you commenced the sarcastic remarks which we have so freely indulged in; andno Briton need think to insult a .Yankee, it matters not in what condition, whether captor or captive, with impu- nity," responded our hero. "Yankees are great folks! and indeed they must needs be, when they have the presumption to bandy words with a real full-blooded Engulishman! But accord- ing to your prophecy, most noble sybil, there will be a fuss kicked up Itween the lion and. your eagle, and then we will have the opportunity of letting a little of the bad and bragging blood out of you Yankees," returned- Captain Wilnmor. "Your British hordes will find let- ting blood out of the Yankees a rather serious and difficult undertaking; and, sir Briton, be careful, lest they practice blood letting on you. But enough of this; it is useless to bandy words; it only aggravates the case,' answered our hero, walking off. page: 14-15[View Page 14-15] The next morning the inmates ofl Fairprospect saw what they considered \ quite a strange sight. Thelittle schoon- c er had drifted upon the beach in front t of the mansion, and as they saw none . on board, they conjectured that some- i thing serious had happened. What the cause of the schooner's singular return 1 was they knew not; but they deter- mined to find out if possible; and im- medi;ately they proceeded down to the little vessel. After examining awhile they found a billet which acquainted themS with Harston's fate. Tlhebillet was written by him previous to his cap- ture, telling them that lie would soon be in the power of Captain Wilmor. Eva's grief was allnost inconsolable, as was also the whole famnily's. Our hero remained a prisoner, nor could the Split- wave-be heard of for some ten months afterward Immednciately after our hero and his gallant little crew. were impressed in the service of His Majesty the King of Eng- land, the Splitwave arrived again in front of Old Winthrop's, Eva's uncle. After she was anchored, and all things made safe and fast, Captain Willnor, after giving some orders to the First Lieutenant, and giving the vessel over to his charge, left the vessel, and in a short time was seated in 'Winthrop's drawing-room, where he was soon after joined by Winthrop himself. It is unnecessary here to give the de- tails of the scene that occurred between them.-, Let it suffice to say that they were highly plels-el, and that, after mature deliberation, they concluded that Captain Wilmor should proceed imnme- diately to England; as it would not be safe to linger around the American shores after committing such an out- rage. All that long night our hero lay heavily ironed, thinking of the loved ones whom he had left, perhaps never to see again. lie contemplated the agony of Eva and all of them, and wondered whether the schooner had acquainted them with his fate. Thus was he doomed to-pass many long nights. The next morning succeeding the capture of our hero, the Splitwave set out for Liverpool, which place, ow ing to stormns and bad luck, she did not reach for somle months. Ilere they stayed until August the next year, when they were ordered to cruise along the coast of America, for war had been declared a short time before. Here let us leave them, and return to Fairpros- pect. It is evening at Fairprospect. The family are all seated in the setting-room, and among thn is Eva. A pale, wan, and nlelac)oly look is resting on her features,/yet she is still beautiful-yea, spiritually beautiful! A look of sad- ness overspreads her faee as she looks out upon the dark blue sea, and she sighs and thinks of her noble and ab- , sent lover, and endeavors to read his fate. t Eva,2 at length said Mr. Harston, who had been in melancholy contempla- 5 tion, " it is now over a year that Henry has been gone. A long time, and one considerably fraught with misery to our lonesome home." "Ah, indeed!'" answered Eva, en- cleavoring to stifle, her emotions. t At that moment the door opened, ,. and a young boy of twelve or thirteen e summers entered; his hurried breath- n ing indicated that he had been runn- -. ing some distance. The eager looks which he cast around the room, denot- ed that he had something of impor- -tance to communicate. "Ha, Charley " exclaimed Mr. Hars- * ton astonished, "what is the matter -what brings you here this time of night? Out with it!" he exclaimed as Charley still hesitated. "Well, I came here to tell yor/that the Splitwave has arrived. She an- chored some quarter of a mile out on the sea from our house this afternoon,' said Charley at length boldly. "Ha! but this is good news," replied Mr. Htarston joyfully. "Oh! tell me! is Henry-Captain Harston-yet on board?-is he, Char- ley?'" asked Eva eagerly. "He is," answered the boy. "Oh joy!" uttered both Mr. Harston and Eva, the mother and sister, res- ponding with a sincere '"Thank God." After the first burst of joy was over, and all had become calm, Mr. Harston, turning to Charley asked: "But 'Charley, my noble little fellow, how came you here Iunobserved bv thenm .v ' When dusk came, Captain Wilrnor came also, and father, I suppose, wish- ed a private interview with lim; and for that purpose told me to go to bed, so that I shoulil tiot overhear them. Knowing with what d-ep anxiety you looked forward to the arrival of the Splitwave, and being determinled to wipe away at the first opportunity, and overbalance if possible the selfi h ac- tions of my fatler, I went immediately to my bedroon which was on the tljir( floor, opened the window, and let my- self fall outside. I then proceeded to the stable, slipped in and silently brid- led my little gentle pony, and rode here as fast as possible. No one observed me, neither knew any one that I had left." "Noble boy! You have done a he- ro's duty; but how will you manage it about returning f" "Never mind that, I will find a wary; I must set out immediately," replied. the boy. "Not so fast, my little hero. A litR tle refiesbment for both yourself and pony will be of more benefit than an immediate start can possibly be. Get him some supper, Eva; and John," con- tinued lie to a servant that was near, 'i you will go out and stable and feed the pony." The servant obediently left the house, and proceeded to do what w as required of him. In a short time the youitlful hero was again as- tride of his noble little charger, and speeding toward his home at a rate that promised him a quite sure and safe arrival, at least before nmorning. It was midnight-dark, and gloomy, and mysterious midnight; and soon the clock on the mantel tolled the hour of one, then of two, but still the room was lighted, wherein were the charac- ters, or a part of them, at least, of our storv. Their faces wore the comnbined looks of anxiety, joy, determination, and profound thoughtfulness. Mr. Harsto;n and Eva were seated at one end of the spalcious Iroom earnestly converliing, while Mrs. Harston and the fair Martli; sat about the middle, listening earnest- ly to the conversation, as it wlas carried on between the former, a portion ot which we will detail briefly to the read- er. "'Think you the plan will succeed .g asked Eva in reply to Mr. Harston, who had just proposed a plan for the rescue of Henry, which seemed quite feasible. "Something tells me it will; we can at least try!" answered Mr. Harston , emphatically. "But will Henry be acquainted with "s page: 16-17[View Page 16-17] our plans soon, so that he can act ac- cordingly?" "Yes; Charley said he would board the ship to-morrow morning, and ac- quaint him with our determination, the time, the capacity in which he is to act, etc." "All is then arranged satisfactorily?2 returned Eva. "At present, yes; so let us ' early to bed and early to rise,' for we have need of all our sleep." So saying, the lights were blown out, the room became dark, and the family retired for the night. CHAPTER V. THE STRATAGEM, THE RESCUE, AND THE CAPTURE, THE second morning after the scene recorded in the last chapter, and while darkness reigned supreme, and pervad- ed over the land and water; and the countless stars brightly illumintated and spangled tihe heavens, two persons, one a middle-aged man, who seemed to have inspired all the vigor of youth, for he walked nimbly along beside his companion, a delicate sand frail youth, who, notwithstanding his slight-looking figure, walked firmly along, a look of determination (though it could not be seen for the darkness) resting on lis handsome face, emerged from the light- ed halls of Fairprospect, and directed their course toward the sea shore.- Atter a brisk walk of a' few minutes they arrived at the coast where lay moored the little schooner, the Ocean Queen, so often mentioned in our nar- rative. Her sails were all given to the wind, and everything betokened a speedy departure on some important if not secret mission, as soon as the anchor should be raised. Five strong men manned the little vessel, each one being well armed, which indicated that they were bound on some warlike ex- pedition; and one perhaps of great caution and secrecy. Soon our two friends from the mansion were espied by one who was commissioned a kind of sentinel or watch; who immediately brought his gun in the direction of them, and in a sharp tone asked: "Who goes there? Stop, and give us the countersign!" The older of the two addressed, with- out stopping his pace the least, answer- ed : "Tohe rescue!"And immediately they were on board the little vessel. The anchor was then weighed, the sails nore firmly set, and the good little vessel was soon bearing themn away gracefully and rapidly to the southward, keeping near the shore. Meanwhile, we will leave them ra- pidly pursuing their course, and turn our attention to other matters of as much importance to our readers, and of more importance to our story. CI::,ley, the little hero of the preced- ing cl:,q Aor, did not arrive at his father's house until about daylight, having ridden the whole livelong night almnost. He fortunately arrived, stabled and fed his pony, and returned back to his bed in the same way he had left, unperceived by any one. His presence, as also that of his pony, was unquestion- ed by any of the slumberers around him--they were certain that he was sleeping innocently in his room, but how sadly were they mistaken! In a short time he was sleeping soundly, and dreaming of his dear cousin Eva, whom he tenderly loved, and of the success of ce( the plan concocted that night for the' lo rescue of the brave Captain Harston. oa Mr. Winthrop and Captain Wilmor sic slept on, unconscious of the change that wa another day's dawn would discover in a the state of thleir affairs-little dream- di ed they of what was to follow.. ce It was late in the mrorning when ca Charley lawoke from his sound slumber. He should, perhaps, have lain longer de in the welcome arms of Morpheus, had bl not one of the servants been sent by his a father, who haid become alarmed at his son's lengtheneed sleep, and awakened 10 him. Our little friend was astonished at the latencess of the hour when ae w first opened his dreamy eyes, for the " old "wall sweeper" in the adjoining room was just pealing forth the hour l of ten. He started up with energy, and went down to his breakfast. To y all the questions which were asked him by the household regarding his pro- tracted slumberl, he invariably' answer- ed that he had been unwell the fore- part of the night, which kept him awake; andi, ttat when he did go to sleep, he dlepi ltcommo n soundly. After break- fast lie went to the stable, fed his pony, and ^ithl a currycomb, obliterated all traces of his journey. Ho then return- ed to the house, and going to his room he armed himself with a long-necked bottle, into which he put a few drugs, filling up the bottle with some rich old port, which his father was in the habit of keeping in his cellar along with his other drinks. As he was privileged by his father to row along the sea-shore in a little skiff his father had given him, he could go anywhere, unquestioned and unnoticed. 'Carefully concealing his bottle under his coat, so as to t unobserved, he pro- ceeded down to the sea-shore, and un. loosed his little skiff, and plying his oars most vigorously he was soon along- side of the Splitwave. Captain Wilmot was absent from the ship, and he, being a great favorite with the sailors, had no difficulty in getting on board; as he as- cended the ship's side, he assumed a careless and indifferent look. Captain Harston was standing on deck, with his right elbow resting on the bulwarks of the vessel, and his eyes cast down on the foaming sea. tHi, hand- some countenance wore a melatncholy look as he cast his eyes in the direction of his once happy home; but despair s was not written there. He was soon \ awakened from his gloomy reverie by r a significant touch on his shoulder, and l hel turned around and beheld at his r ide a beautiful youth some twelve, o years old, our little friend, who asked: "I Is not your name Captain Harston, ), noble sir?" "It is, but what would you with me, e- my little fellow ?" replied Harston. ; t"Well, perhaps, as the crew are all Ie below, I sight as well tell you now. L- Your father and Eva, my cousin, were Y, anxious about you, and I knew it; d1 therefore, as soon as it was dusk last n- nlight, I saddled myv pony unknown to tm any one, and rode down there, and told ed them of the Sllitwave's arrival. They ;s, seemed overjoyed about it, and immedis )Id ately resolved- upon your rescue. After bit they had come to a conclusion, they his sent me 4lere to acquaint you with the palt they wish you to perform, etc. to It is this: to-morrow. morning at dawn kiff they will be here some seven strong. go Previous to their coming, however, they ed. wish you to get the sailors in a state ot der drowsiness. The contents of this bot- ,ro- tie will do it; and then they wish you page: 18-19[View Page 18-19] to secure the arm-chest, while they board the ship. Do you understand ." Captain Harston took the bottle, and concealed it under his clothes, and then asked: "But your name, my noble little de- liverer I I would know that V" "It is Charles Winthrop," answered he, " and I am determined to repay the ingratitude rendered you by the hands of my father. I loved Eva, and was ,stricken with grief when she disappear- ed; but I found out whither she had gone, and often visited her unknown to my father; and I have learned to love your father and his family. So enough, Captain Harston, we have con- versed all we can, so God speed you." "God bless you! You are indeed a perfect hero!" exclaimed Harston; nnd Charley left the deck, leaving our hero stupefied, astonished, and bewildered to a wonderful degree. It needed no second invitation froln our hero, to induce the crew of the Splitwave to drink the beverage which Harston received from Charles Win- throp. No, indeed! as the reader per- haps anticipates, they would jump at the chance. It seemed as if fortune favored Harston's escape, for that night Captain Wilmor again slept in a sump- tuous couch beneath the roof of the aristocratic Mr. Winthrop, leaving the first-lieutenant in charge of the ship; but he, the second lieutenant, land the mate. were all below. The watch was set, and the sailors all retired to rest; but sleep came not to the eyes of Hars- ton. About one or two o'clock in the night, he arose and walked to the side of the watch at the stern, and carelessly pulled out his bottle, and offered it to him, who eagerly took the bottle, and took a horn." Thus he went to them all, and soon had the satisfa, tion of seeo ing them asleep at their posts. He then went and awakened the snoring sailors, who were loth at first to disen- gage themselves from the arms of Mor- pheus; but at the sight of the bottle their sternness relaxed, they kept si- lence, which our hero intimated by plac- ing his finger on his lips, and all drank their fill; after which they all laid down, our hero amongst them, and were soon, except himself, in a death-like slumber. "Thus far the stratagem works to a charm!" muttered he to himself, as he walked and noiselessly took his place near the arm-chest. Here he sat and watched long and earnestly until day was breaking in the west, when he espied alongside of the vessel, his own little vessel, the Ocean Queen. A voice from the little ship, which he recognized as that of his fa- ther, in a low tone asked: "Is all right?" "Yes!" answered our hero. "Be prompt and cautious, and come on board immediately; for day is breaking, and we have yet a great deal to accom- plish." Immediately the crew of the little vessel, comprising Mr. Harston, the youth, and five other strong men, si- lently climbed on deck. Captain Hars- ton, accompanied by one of the stailors, and the youth who insisted to go with him so earnestly, wen't below with drawn swor ds in their hands. Our hero proceeded to the cabin door, and rapped loud with the pummel of his sword against it. The noise awoke the sleepers within, who alarmed at the disturbance, hastily pulled on their breeches, grasped their swords, and rushd&l to the door and opened it. They recoiled a little, however, at th sight of Harston anI his companions, who stood resolutely at the door, with their swords points bristling in the dark. Harston advanced and said: "Lieutenant Reily, it is folly for you to resist! your men are all prisoners. I respect you, and would not willingly cross swords with you. You had better surrender 9" "Never will I surrender without first a trial! You are brave, but de- fend yourself ;" answered Reily bravely at the same time bringing his sword to a guard. Harston followed the example, as did the rest also; and soon the strife was in progress. It was evident that Harston was a more skilful swordsman than his antagonist. It was also evi- dent that he was endeavoring more to disarm his enemy than anything else. Making a skilful movement, quick as lighltning, he caught his antagonist's word, disarming him completely, and thbe'sword went buzzing over his head, a ad fell ten feet behind him. Our hero Alien turned around, and he noticed that the youth beside him was unable to cope with his opponent. Almost that very instant, the latterls sword would have peirced his bosom had not Hars- ton fortunately parried the thrust. The ' second lieutenant, for it was he,-turn- ed angrily, and made a terrible lunge at a somewhat exposed part of Harston's body; but the mad lunge was turned aside, and the next moment the good blade of our hero found its way to the villain's heart. The Mate was soon dis- armed, and himself and Lieutenant Reily both prisoners. The whole part!', accompanied by their prisoners, then returned upon deck, where lay the ship's crew all ironed with the same irons they had hoped to soon bind American prisoners with. They were still drowsy and were surprised. As the party advanced'towardMr. Hare- ton he exclaimed: "Ha! Eva, you here? I was afraid you would-- "What means this!" asked Henry, bewildered. "Simply that Eva is here!" returned Mr. lIarston, pointing to the youth, who blushed modestly; but she could control her feelings no longer, and the next instant she was locked in her lov- er's embrace. In a short time they be- came calm, and the orders were given; and the good ship, accompanied by the Ocean Queen, was speeding its way to- ward the nearest port to the northward, which they entered safely, amid the cheers of the inhabitants; after which they returned home in the Ocean Queen, where they arrived about noon that same day. Now, courteous reader, with your leave we will bring our tale to a CONCLUSION. SIMULTANEOUS with the clock's strik- ing seven, Captain. Wilmor arose, and dressed himself, and joined Mr. Win- throp in the parlor. The Qaptain then bade his companion good morning and departed. He soon returned, however, with his face black with passion, his eyeballs fairly out of their sockets, and with the face of a demon exclaimed: "H--11 and furies! O what a d-d accursed, predicament!" J '"Hal by my soull Wilmor, what it the matter-something terrible has hap. pened, hey!" eagerly asked Winthrop, grasping Captain Wilmor by the arm. ("The ship l" he faintly articulated. ("Well, what of her!" inquired Win- throp. page: 20-21[View Page 20-21] "She has adtappeared!f" "Hal say you so? how-what has become of her "X "I know notl" replied Captain Wil- mor. "Rebels have been around, perhaps l" "Perhaps!" responded the Captain. Winthrop rushed to the door, and sure enough it was true. They could come to no definite conclusion as to the ship's fate. Charley was overjoyed at the news, but said not a word. lie knew the cause of the ship's mysterious disappearance, and so does the reader; therefore, we will leave the "duped ones" giving vent to their bitter impre- cations, only rernarking that when they did find out how they lost their ship, their curses were more fearful than those uttered by the demons of Hell themselves. Two weeks after their safe arrival home, Henry Harston and the lovely Eva were united in the holy bonds of marriage, and never--so said the guests, and we shall not hesitate to say so also-was a handsomer coupie united. Lieuterant Rejly remained a prison- er to Martha, our hero's sister; for in a few months after Henry's marriage, he was put under obligations to her that no man can sever. He thereby 3 became an American citizen, and though he would take no part in the war then in progress, he tended the farm while Henry fought for the hovor o f his country, in some of the most splendid naval victories of the war, and after the war was ended, returned hone safe. The crew of the Splitwave remained as prisoners of war. Some of them, and the Mates, were exchanged for Am- erican prisoners, among whom were the balance of the little crew who were im- pressed in the British service along with Harston, but who were placed on an- other ship when they reached England. One remnark more and we have done. Captain Wilmor again entered the British service, and was killed during the war. Mr. Winthrop, Eae's unnat- ural uncle, was at last forced to deliver up to Eva her property. Charles Win- throp was always esteemed by ltile Hars- tons, and his invaluable services were never forgotten. Whllo, in conclusion we ask, dare deny that such deeds of bravery, as these we have picltured, were enacted? To he who doubts it, we refer to his country's hIlstory, whlere lie will find deeds rivalling 1lh)se tpictured under the head of "THsE (WCEAN QUENS N THE MARQUIS DE LETOR1ERE; i O R1 THE ART OF PLEASING; CHAPTER I. in THE TAILOR. IN the year 1769, in Saint Honore street, not far from the Palais Royal, might be seen p the modest front of a tailor's shop, having h for its sign an enormous pair of gilded I shears, suspended from an iron rod over the door. Master Landry, proprietor of the ', Golden Shears," a slim, pale, and apa- t thetic little man, presented astriking con- s trast to his wife, Madeleine Landry. i The latter, who milght have seen some I llirty-five or forty years, was active and ro- oust; her harsh features, masculine gait, together with a rough and commanding tone of voice, showed pretty plainly that she held absolute .wcvay in the household. It was on a dull and rainy December day, and about eleven o'clock. Master Landry, seated on his board, wtas handling alter- nately tahe shears and the needle, in compa- ny with i.; apprentice, Martin Kraft, a tall, stout, phllcwiatic German of about twenty ycars of a'., with plump and rosy cheeks, long hair,' rather vellow than brown, and a dull, stupid cast of countenance. The tailor's wife seemed to be in a vio- lent fit of ill-humour. Landry and his ap- prentice maintained a respectful silence. At length, Madeleine, addressing her husband, said scornfilily; ;"Go to, where's the blood that should be in your veins . You'll let your very last customer be takern rom you, idiot that you are!" Landrv and Martin elbowed anu winked at each other, but said nothing; and the for- mer plied his needle with increasing agility. Irritated, doubtless, at the submission of her victim, the dame continued, impetuously turning to her mate. "Who is it I am speaking to, pray?"The tailor and his aid still said not a word. Madeleint , aclconmpanying her speech with a smart box on the eair, saiid to her husband in an exasperated tone: "Methinks, when I say idiot I should be speaking to you, and that you might deign to answer me, un- mannerly blockhead that you are!" "By St. Genevieve!" cried the tailor, putting his hand to his cheek, and turning to his apprentice, "What do you think of that, Kraflt ." The other replied only by a heavy blow of his iron upon the seams of a coat; but there was in the descent of the goose so significant an expression of suggested retal- iation, that dame Landry, with nimble hand, inflicted on the phlegmatic German the same chastisement as on Landry, say- ing: "And there's a lesson for you, and let it teach you to be cautious how you cast re- flections on my conduct, lazy drone that you are!" , What do you think of that, master Lan- dry?" said the apprentice in turn, addressing his ernmloyer. The latter, to put an end to his wife's irritation, said to her very calmly: ' Now, Madeleine, explain yourself quietly; for Kraft and I have had due warning to listen to what you have to say." "The better for you! As tw what I have to say, that's no great deal. Through, your indolence, here's another of your best custo- mers gone over to our peiglbor, M5athuria; and he no less a person than the valet of a counsellor in parliament " " What, your customer leaving us . ask- t ed the tailor of his apprentice with an angry look, and a dastardly attempt. to turn 'his wife's wrath upon poor Kraft. 4"What, I Martin, are these the patrons you recom- - mend to us? Are you not ashamed? Mine would not doso! By Heaven! they are as r faithful to me as thread to the needle--as y the thimble to the finger - as -- n "4 Tut, tut!" said Madam Landry, inter- d rupting the tailor, " what idle prate is this, ' Master Lanidry! How can that be .when ih the clerk of Mr. Buston, the attorney at the id Chatelet, who is certainly your own custo. I. page: 22-23[View Page 22-23] mer, has deserted you, like the rest, for this fellow Mathurin?" "'How would you help it, wife? There must be some sorcery about this Mathurin in drawing customers to his shop," said Landry, sorrowfully; " for I defy any mem- ber of the honourable body of tailors to sew better or more strongly than I. Saint Gen- evieve, the patroness of our good city, knows that I do not cabbage the thousandth part of a quarter of an ell of furnished cloth c 'Tis just the same with the lace-makers; and -- " "1 For Heaven's sake! spare me the full catalogue of your virtues, Mr. Landry ; our neighbour Alathurin mav be a rogue - a swindler, if you will; but at any rate he has his wits about him, he bestirs himself, forms profitable acquaintances, and does not wit all day like you with his arms crossed." "Excuse me, madam; legs crossed, you mean," said Kraft, emphatically. *"Just listen to that animal!" said the housewife, casting a significant look at the apprentice, who hung down his head, and set furiously to work again with his iron. Madam Landry resumed: ," You have not at single good customer! Always mechan- cs, lawyers' clerks, salt-porters; not a soli- tary gentleman!" "As for gentlemen, Madeleine," said the tailor, venturing a timid reproach, ,( I have one amongst my patrons, and you forbid my working for him- " Madeleine reddened with anger, and cried: ' Do you still dare to talk to me of your marquis, your :' charming gentleman,' the sharper who has owed us three hundred Ileres now for a year, and from whom we have never been able to squeeze a red far- thing?"' "And yet, forsooth, you wish for the pat- ronage of gentlemen too!" "' I want the patronage of gentlemen who pay, and not of those rogues who strut about s the streets of Paris with a sword at their I side, a bad hat stuck upon one ear, to make l victims of such fools as you and of poor a trades-people like ourselves!" The tailor raised his hands to Heaven: r "'Tis very evident, Madeleine, you know no h more of the marquis than of the Grand Sul- tan. Ite, a rogue! he, a sharper! Poor a yo ng man, so mild, so gentlemanly, so 1 melancholy!-and then so handsome- a one could stay an hour looking at him- a hke a waxwork!" 1"So handsome!" repeated the dame, mim- h icking her husband; , and what does that h prove? Was there ev r such folly? Does a, he pay us the better for being pretty? Again I ask, what does that concern you?" st (' Why, so far that when I see so unas- do suming a nobleman poor and unhappy - my heart melts, and I have not the courage I to ask him for money. That's how it con- n is cerns me. In fact, Martin Kraft himself felt as I did; you sent him to dun the mar. re quis for his bill; well! what did Martin in tell yoif on his return? That instead of ask. id ing him for the money, he inquired whether n- he did not want a new coat." w "That only proves Martin Kraft to be as a- great a goose as yourself!" rs "The fact is, this nobleman is so good; rt looking, that he might be taken for a pain- ! ted wooden figurte from Nuremburg," said ; the German, gravely, not being able to find any other technical term to express his ad- "miration. r "Now hear the other!" said dame Lan. a dry, shrugging her shoulders contemptu. s ously; and then added: ' -But stay, stay-- s this very day I 'll go myself; and show this 1 charming gentleman that Madeleine Landry is not to be paid with coaxing-- A coach stopped before the tailor's shop, and the rain was-falling in torrents. The housewife assumed a more gracious 3 expression, expecting to see a customer step Ifrom the coach; but, to her great surprise, the driver having dismounted slowly and t heavily from his box, looked at the sign of the shop, and walked in. "Master Landry?" asked he in a loud voice, as he shook his wrapper which iwas dripping with rain. "First let me tell you, there's no neces. sity for your shaking yourself like a do, just out of water, in order to inquire for Master Landry," said Madeleine, tartly. "What do you want with him?" "My good lady, if I shake myself, 'tis because I am wet through- dl owned - as you see, and for the water I leave here, I shall have so much the less to carry with me." "Much obliged to you for the preference," said the dame, "As for Master Landry, I have a mes. sage for him from a young nobleman. MAay I never get another fare, if I ever laid eyes upon a prettier little seigneur! But here's a go," said the driver, interrupting himself, "here's my hat, like a gutter, leading the rain into my neck ;" and he began shaking his head as he had done his coat. Madeleine's ire was about to break forth again, when the window of the hack was let down. A man of about fifty years ot age, stout, ruddy-faced, wearing powder, and clothed in black, began calling for the coachman with the voice of a stentor. As his bawling, however, proved ineffectual, he opened the door, jumped froln the coach, and entered the shop. "Will you tell me, saucy knave, why you stop here instead of driving me to the hotel de Soubise?" cried he. "Begging your pardon, sir, 'tis becaius I had a message todeliver from a handsome nobleman -" 4And what .s your nobleman to me ' I am in haste. Come, let's be off mount your seat." "' One minute, kind sir. I have promised this gentleman to do his errand, and I must do it -" "How! you refuse to go on? Take care! if you are not on the way again in an in- stant, you shall hear from the lieutenant of police - and so I warn you." "Be it so. I'll go and pass a night at the Fort-l'Eveque, if you please. I don't dispute your right to send me there; but I shall at least have kept my word with this young gentleman." After renewed orders and threats, seeing no chance of prevailing over the driver's contumacy, the stout man in black, who was the intendant of tne marechale princess de Rohan Soubise, vented a curse or two, and sat down. "But," cried Madeleine, peevishy, and catching Sicard by the sleeve, " are you go- ing to tell us after all, what you have to say to my husband?"And she pointed to Lan- dry, who was watching the scene with gap- mg and breathless interest. "Here's the whole story," said the hack- ney coachman: "I was passing an hour ago down the street of the Faubourg St. Honore, in a pouring rain. I saw under the porch of the Hotel Pompadour, a young man tak. ing shelter there; but he was so graceful! one might have taken him for an angel. For all this wintry weather, he had on a miserable brown knitted coat, bound with black lace!" "A brown knitted cgat bound with black lace! Why, that's our coat!" cried dame I Landry; "' and he, the ' charming gentle- c man,' the confounded marquis, he has 1 but that coat, and owes for it too,-he is not very hard to recognize-" t "Well! if any one ever deserved to wear E an embroidered suit, 'tis he to a certainty, for my name is not Jerome Sicard if I ever c saw anv thing more like a good angel." t " Well? what more of your good angel? i Has he given you any money to hand to us? 1 Has he at last sent the 300 livres that he ' has owed us now for a year ,?" " Money! the poor little lad of wax! No t indeed, not a cent! Who could have the I heart t3 ask him fr-r it? Why I myself e drove him to the Palais Marchand for noth- M ng" - i "There! my dear t" said the tailor, with a an air of triumph. a: "Hush! blockhead. He has duped you c( and the coachman too -. another proof that " he's a Jeremy Diddler." w "Duped!" said the worthy Sicard, stamp. ai ing with rage. " Duped! I tell you, goody th gossip, he's a genuine nobleman, and dupes tl no one. If I did treat him to a ride, 'twas tt for my own good pleasure. Seemg him thus cc I stopped by the ram, I drew up dlose to the it hotel, and said: "Get ap, your honour.' "No, I thank you, my lad," said lie, m a d low tone, and as sweet as music. ",But it you'll be wet to the skin." 'i 'Tis very possible; only tell me, friend, what is the ! hour?" "'Eleven, your honour." "Eleven "o'clock, and I have business at the Palais f Marchand at half past!" cried he in spite of himself, and casting a sad look at the ram, t and at the gutters, which were like so many 't rivers. '4Get up then, your honour," replied I; " in twenty minutes I 'll carry you there, s but on foot in such weather as tils, ypu will not be there befbre noon." I' thank you, my lad," said he sighing and yet smiling, "but I have no money; so do not lose your time here." "No money!" cried I, opening the door, and handing the handsome noble-. man somewhat roughly into my coach (for he was as slender as a reed). "That shall never be, by Heaven! Jerome Sicard let a gentleman like your honour miss an inter, view for want of a two-shillinig piece! Take my number--you can find me again, sir!" And without giving him time to answer, I jumped upon my box, and in eighteen min- utes I set him down at the Palais Mar- chand." "Well, well, it seems that every one must give in to his witchcraft-- even a hackIney coachman,". replied dame Landry; "but wait and see --" "Have you almost done!" cried the inten* dant of the princess de Soubise. "In a moment, sir. Well! having reach. ed the Palais Marchand, my gentleman said to mne: "Give me your number, my lad; I sincerely desire to be one day able to acknowledge this your kind behaviour, and pay you the just value of this ride; for With- out your help, I should not have arrived in time for an audience of great importance to a lawsuit in whch I am engaged ; but since you are so obliging, I will ask another favour of you; I intended to go to my tailor's also, to tell him to bring home the coat he prom- ised me for this evening, without fail. He lives in St. Honore street, at the sign of the ' Golden Shears;' if it does not lie too far out of your way, call at his shop, and tell the tailor that the marquis de Let --Less'- Letori6re - yes, that's it--de Letoriere, expects, this evening, the coat for which he was measured a fortnight ago." "Let it be in or out ot my way," I answered, " I'll go all the same." At that moment you .came and engaged me by the hour, sir;" and the coachman turned towards the iSntendant. "I passed along St. Honore street, which was not a very round-about course for you, and here I am delivering mv message to this worthy knight of the thimble," added - the driver, addressing himself to Landry. , Now, tailor, don't forge, this gentleman, coat, and if you can tell me at what hour i' page: 24-25[View Page 24-25] will be ready, I 'll come and take you to his house--gratis--yes, my hearty fellow, gratis! for I am sure that to oblige any one with such an angel face as his must bring, you luck. Now, sir, I beg pardon a thou- sand times ;" and he turned again to the in- tendant: w' we 'll be moving as soon as you please." The latter, who had been attentive to this singular colloquy, felt interested in spite of himself; and was in no haste to re-enter the hack, especially when he heard dame Lan- dry exclaim in an excited tone, and with a look of angry surprise directed to her hus- band: "Have you then dared, in spite of my orders to lhc contrary, to promise anoth- t er coat to this good paymaster? But you have not commenced it, I hope?" "Why, my dear woman - "Dorft womanl me, but answer!" "I lhave done more, my dear, I've made it," said the tailor, hanging his head. "You 've made this coat? - of what? and when?-- answer me! For the last week, I have seen you and your iworthy ap- prentice at work upon nothing, but these woollen wrappers and shag coats." Willing to help out his patron, Martin Kraft ventured to say: "Twas I, 3ladam Landry, wh11o bouht out of my own sav- ings, live clls of purple Legovian cloth; in short, enough to Inake a full suit, with three ells of changreable taffetv for trimming the vest and coat. We have worked at it by night, so as not to interfere with our day's labour." "And so, whilst I was sound asleep, like an honest woman, you left your bed, like a vile criminal, to work upon this master-piece of tailoring!" cried the housewife. "Zounds!- whlat could I do -- The poor little noblenman was a real eytesore to Martin and my self! By St. Genllevieve 'twas pitiful to see lhini, in the midst of winter, in that wretchedly thin coat. We could not forego the pleasure of clothing him like a gentleman, as he is. Don't make yourself uneasy; sooner or later lie will pay us. I 'll thrust myv and in the fire, if he is not as honest as he is fascinating:" Jerome Sicard, a tall and stout personage of about thirty, had listened to the tailor's recital witl increasing satistflcdion. When Master landrv had made an end, the driver extended his ibroad hand, and said to him: "Take that, worthy tailor; send your wife this instant for a bottle of your best wine, and let us drink together. And your good apprentice too, shall share the bottle with us; for you are an honour to the shears and shbopboard-rno menmber of your honour- able body canll be mnlre so." "If vtu dri rnk only thhe wine that I help you to, it will not get into eitl er of your beads, to disturb the little sense that is left there," said dame Landry, peevishy; " you are indeed a fit and worthy pot-companion of my dolt of a husband, if you allow your- self, like him, to be cajoled by any sharper that pleases! But since vou are so handy at executing the commissions of this velvet mouthed marquis, you may go and lell him, that the coat will remain here till he has paid us the three hundred livres he already owes;--you may inform him also, to cut the matter short, that I am coming to pre- sent him his bill myself. If this handsome marquis be not at home, f shall wait for him, --if he do not give me, at least, something on account, I 'll go fetch the com- missary this very day, and show you that a woman has more spirit than you all, who, 1 vow, remind mne of so many wet hens." "1 Wet, I grant you," said Jerome Sicard; "but as for hens-if I had my whip, or even the vard-stick that my worthy frienid has on the board there, and you were my wife, I'd convince you feelingly that 1 at least have enough of the male bird in nle to be able to flog you for refusing a glass of wine to friends. I speak wi:hout malice--but Heaven grant th at what I iave said, may inspire you with the happy idea of making vour wife more closely acquainted with the y;ardstick, good master tailor," said Sicard; then turning to the intendant: "Sir, I am at your service." "I'm glad of it," said the latter, without feeling very sorry, however, for the delay; for the scene had amused him. Upon the departure of the driver, dame Landry took her hood and mantle, and a large umbrella, ordered her husban d to bring her the Legrovie coat intended tor IL. de Le- toritCre, which she put under lock and key, and went out, with her-exasreration at its height, to wait for the " chllarncr" at' his own honme-for this was the eillihect she applied to the marquis, il1 dlrisiol. "HAPTER 11. THE z-PRO,5sSOR DU rrrPLSSS. TIE marquis resided at no great distance n frorl the sdlp of lis creditor. -A. de Le- toriitre occupied a smaill room n1ld closet on thlle' fifth floor of a house in St. Florentin street. -He shared this humble retrtat with Doc- tor Jean Francois Dominique, ex-professor of the college du Plcssis. By an unaccountable freak of destinv, the young, marquis, born to fascinat , all, . lleth. ) er of hiz}i or low degree, had first exercised r his inexpliclable power of fi)scination upon tI this old professer of sciences, who enter- i taincd for him the deepest affection. In spite of the many mischievous pranks ,f the frolicsome boy, the learnfed Domi- nique had discovered in his pupil so many fine qualities of mind 'and heart, and so much greatness of soul, that he became sin- gularly attached to him. Perhaps, too, the uncommon disposition which the marquis, one of the most distinguished philologists of the college du Plessis, displayed for the stu- dy of the ancient languages, had called forth this extraordinary devotion of the- old pro- fessor bfor his pupil. The abbe du Vighan, uncle to M. de Le- toriere, had for six years paid the college expenses of his nephew, who was a friend- less orphan. During a journey which the abbe was called on to perform, there was an intermission of payment for one term. The marquis, whose sensibility was woun- ded by some remarks made by the principal on the subject of this failure of the accus- tomed remittance, resolved to quit college. Dominique, when informed of his pupil's rojects, did all in his power to dissuade ximn; but the marquis was in hisnineteenth year and extremely self-willed. The poor professor, unable to deter him from com- mitting this piece of folly, determined, at any rate, to accompany him in his flight, so fearful was he of letting the marquis en- counter alone the chances of a great city. Dominique himself made all the prepara- tions for their escape; on a cloudy night, master and scholar scaled the college walls, a feat, not without peril to the old profes- sor, untrairz d and ill-formed as he was for such kinds of' exercise. The principal, well-pleased, perhaps, at being rid of a mutinous and turbulent stu- dent, made no attempt to bring back the fu- gitives. Letoriere was. possessed of fifteen louis; Dominique lead a little interest in the "Ta- belles," which produced an income of. fifty pistoles ; hti: was the amount of the funds with which they commenced their estab- lishment. The whole fortune bequeathed to the marquis by his s father, consisted of' two or three interminable lawspits. The most considerable one, which had been pending for fifty vears, was an action for recover;-, institutei against the dukes of Brunswick Oels and the princess of Brandeburg-Bar- euth, by the great aunt of M. de Letoriere, Miss d' Olbreuse, who, at the time of the edict of Nantes, had emigrated, and married one, of the agnats or collateral heirs to the duchy of Brunswick. A poor gentleman of Haintonge, without supporters, and without credit, Letoriere 'spaircd of ever being able to prosecute 'se suits on which might depend a fortune he yet durst not hope for; twenty times lhad he been on the point of enlisting for a sol- dier; but the influence of the good Dori- nique had hitherto deterred him from i this step. The ex-professor du Flessis had carefully perused the filed documents relating to these points in litigation. His love for his pupil had made him almost a lawyer. The good title of the marquis seemed evident to him; there was nothing wanted, said he, but patience; and some day or other the suits would undoubtedly terminate in his favor. Becoming daily a more enthusiastic admirer of the marquis, he boldly compared him to Alcibiades, so irresistible did he find the fascinating qualities he possessed. Jean Francois Dominique modestly reserved for himself the character of Socrates, which he personated by incessantly predicting the most brilliant fortune for his pupil. "Alas! poor Dominique," the young man would say to him, "I have nothing but my hand and sword--no protectors; without you, I should be alone in the world." "Nay, you have a charm, my son; you are loved as soon as seen, esteemed as soon as known; and for no other cause than your, good and generous nature; then you have intellect, and are as well versed in Latin and Greek as myself; the German is as fa- miliar to you as- your native tongue (thanks to the care of your deceased father, who had you brought up by a German valet de chambre); and you are of high birth too, although you may not be able to trace your lineage to Euryalus, the son of Ajax, as did Alcibiades, whom I call my hero, be. cause you resemble him so strikingly. Have patience, then; your career will be perhaps even more brilliant than his. Ay, that it will! As surely as Socrates saved his pupil's life at Potidea! But I know vour heart, and am sure that when raised to the very pinnacle of .,rt"ue, you will no more forget old Jean-Francois Dlminique than Al- cibiades did the old philosopher!" These predictions, however fantastical and ..bsurd they mlight appear even to the ') ,..m- ,ralrquis, tendedl for a time at least, to sustain his courage, to bkeep alive the hope of gaining one of his suits at law, and prevent his enlisting as a private soldier, the intention to d(o wrlicll ie had often man. ifested, to the great dismay of poor Domi. nique. Madeleine Landry soon reacled the rue St. Florentin. After having mounted to the apartnent on the fifth story, occupied by her debtor, the tailor's wife stopped for a moment on the landing, in order to rcover breathl, and be able to give firee vent to her indignation. When she had recovered from t-he effects of her hurried walkintg, she 'lnlocked. A slow and heavy step -was heard, and the door opclied. To tIe astonishmnent of Mad;eleine, a mml of hideous aspect presented himsr lt; page: 26-27[View Page 26-27] This was no other than the ex-professor du Plessis. Jean-Francois Dominique was then bordering on fifty years of age; he was tall and raw-boned. His face, meagre, pale, and of immoderate length, showed trace of the ravages of small pox; and his thin grey hlair was gathered in a knot be- hind, tied with a piece of tape. A well- worn blanket, in which he wrapped himself majestically, served him for a morning gown. His countenance wore an expression of pedantic gravity and self-complacency, that were truly remarkable. The room he occupied displayed an aspect of poverty, but a studied neatness prevailed throughout, At the farther end of a reccek stood a small bed with a single mattress a chest of draw- ers, a table, and four walnut chairs careful- ly polished, constituted their stock of furni- ture. The half open door of a little closet exposed to view a cot with its covering carefully tucked in.. Although the winter was extremely severe, there was no trace of fire on the hearth of this frigid dwelling. Lastly, at the foot of the little bedstead were displayed two small portraits in cray- on, set in tolerably rich gilt frames; one of which represented a middle-aged man in a periwig a la Louis XIV., and wearing the cross of St. Louis attached to one of the clasps of his cuirass. The other was the portrait of an exceedingly beautiful woman, dressed as the hunting Diana. The painful struggle between pride and poverty which the appearance of this room evinced, would have moved to pity any oth- pr woman than Madeieine Landry. "Does rune Mr. Letoriere live here?" inquired she bluntly of the old man, who had drawn his blanket into sonlething like the form of a Rorman toga. The words " one Mr. Letoriere," grated harshy on the ex-professor's ear; his an- swer was therefore dignified and caustic: "All that I can tell you is, that the high and miglvhty seigneur Lancelot-Marie-Joseph du Vighan, lord of Marseilles and marquis de Letoriere-- lodges in these apartments, my good womanll-" "t Good wonman!" screamed Madeleine in a rage. I 'll show you how good a woman I am!" WhVlre's your master, your fine marquis d(e Didller, your high and mighty seigneur (de Loafery?' Jean-Francti oi Domrinique drew himself up m his toga, and extending his long , naked, and scraryv ;arm in the direction of the door, said with the tone of an emperor, "Be- gone this instant! Monsieur le marquis, my noble pupil, is out. I know not when he will return --but at any rate, I presume he wou d willingly forego the gratification of seeing you, nmy dear woman - for if anger ditfigures the most charming features, as the sage says, "a fortiori" does it render hideous thost: to whom nature has been a niggard of her gifts! Of this truth you ars a striking illustration; do me then the favour to-" and Dominique again pointed very significantly to the door. Exasperated at this insult, the tailor's wife cast her umbrella upon the floor, threw herself into a chair, and exclaimed: '4It well becomes an ugly owl like yourself to talk of the homeliness of others! This beautiful boy is your pupil then, you say? Egad! I believe you there, for you do .look like one that has taken his degrees in ini- quity, you hackneyed old miscreant! ButrI move not hence--till I am paid-d' ye hear? or by St. Madeleine, my patroness, if I do go out, it shall be to the commissa- ry's." ,Ha! indeed; paid for what, I pray?" asked Dominique. "For the clothes that your vagabond has on his back. I am the wite of Master Lan- dry, tailor, at the ' Golden Shears;' and if my husband has been dupe enough to give you credit till now, I'll not be fool enough to imitate him. I want my money. I stir not a step till I have it." "How!" cried Dominique, folding his arms with the most disdainful look he could summon, "is this the pitiful object for which thou comest hither to torture my ears with thy vile screeching, and importune Monsieur le marquis! Hast thou then for- gotten that, in days of yore, the cities of Greece disputed with each other the honour of offering their services to Alcibiades? that the Ephesians pitched his tents? that the inhabitants of Chios fed his steeds? that the Lesbians supplied his tables? and all this gratis - dost mark me- gratis! solely fox the honour of making an offering to Alcibia- des! And thou, the wife of a miserable ar- tisan, for three hundred paltry livres, which do not make the tenth part of a talent, for this miserable claim on the marquis, my pupil, who is, or will be, by Hercules! a greater man than Alcibiades, comest hither screaming like an osprey! Go, rather, thou infatuated crone, and bless the day that my pupil deigned to cast his eyes on ty ignoble worlkshop! Recal to thy mind the fact, that the Athenian shoemaker who had the honour of working for Alcibides, earmed moremon- ey in a year than thou can'st in thy wretched life. Mark me well! M-ladeleine, from this volley of learned reriniscences, concluded that the tall man in a blanket, who did nothing ,but talk of Alcibiades, must be a maniac. "But surely, you have brought the suit which the marquis has condescended to or- der of your husband?" resumed Dominique. "Bear this well in mind; let him be dou- bly attentive and dexterous in completing these garments, for on them his prospects as a tailor depend! If he gives satisfaction to my pupil, his fortune is made Let's me, where is the suit?" and Dominique ad- vanced gravely towards Madeleine. The latter rose in haste from her chair, ready to tear Jut the eyes of him she con- ceived to be a lunatic. "Don't come near me, or I 'll break your head with the um- brella!" cried she. "You are mad, my dear lady-who thinksqof offering you violence? You have not brought the suit then?" resumed Domi- nique, in a milder tone. "Brought the suit indeed! why, what impudence!" said Madeleine, who felt a little reassured at his change of voice. "Certainly not; and it is not my fault that your pupil has that on his back which my blockhead of a husband sold him, and for which I come to demand payment; for, I repeat it, I stay here till I am paid. If not, there is, thank Heaven, room enough yet for rogues in the Fort-l'Eveque. When a manll has not the cash to pay for fine clothes, he Ought, in spite of his title of marquis, to wear such as he can pay for, and not rob poor tradesmen of their time and material." At this moment a light step was heard on the stairs. " 'Tis the marquis!" cried Dominique. "Ah! now the sport begins!" exclaimed dame Madeleine. "My dear madam," said Dominique in a suppliant tone, "sparellim; on the faith of Dominique, you shall be paid." "Fiddlestickl! Now for a sight of this contraband marquis!"As she spoke, the door was slowly, opened, and the marquis entered. "I have not the heart to witness this scene," said Dominique, trembling; and he retreated to his dark closet, shutting the door after him. CHAPTER III. ,TIE DEBTOR. AT sight of the marquis, Madeleine brins tled like a game fowl, and stared indignant- ly at the young man. The marquis de Le- toriere was then about twenty years of age. The portraits of him which are still extant, and the unanimous testimony of his contem- poraries, agree in representing him as the beau ideal of all that is fascinating. At that age, his proportions, which dis- played the most exquisite symmetry, made him resemble the God of Love, rather than the Antinous of the Greeks. All the treasures of ancient sculpture, it is said, offered nothing to be compared with the harmonious teauty of his form. Under this bewitching exterior, nature had hidden muscles of steel, the courage of a lion, a rare intellect, a noble soul, and a generous disposition. His enchanting/ face was not character. ised by a stern or man y beauty; but Fan- cy's self could never have sketched any thing so pretty; and the "pretty," at the period at which he lived, was a singularly appropriate style of beauty. The strength anhd stature of a Hercules would have been out of place, where men had cast off the barb and helmet. A grave and dignified air would have been ill-limed, when the im- -posing perukes, or rather lionnmanes of Louis XIV. were no longer in vogue. If rose-scented. powder, lace, ribbons, silk and jewelry, became Letoriere so well, it was that his features and whole demeanour had an almost feminine grace, in admirable keeping with the almost effeminate elegance of the dress and decorations of the men of that age. If he possessed in the highest 'degree the art of pleasing and captivating, it was that his bewitching countenance could alternately express, ingenuity, satire, dignity, daring, tenderness and melancholy. It was said by his contemporaries, that the : look and tone of voice of this remarkable man had an irresistible charm and power, which the advocates of a certain new sci- ence would doubtless attribute to magnetic- attraction. But, at the time of which we speak, the marquis was but a friendless youth, and whether "s magnetic " or not, his attractive power was about to be submitted to a se- vere test by the tailor's wife. Madeleine felt her anger effervescing at the siglit of her debtor. The rain had drenched him, his hands were blue with cold, and his forehead was almost hidden by the damp curls of his fine chesnut hair, which he then wore unpow- dered. When he saw Madeleine, he could not help betraying an expression of surprise and chagrin; however, lie accosted her po- litely, and fixing upon her his full black eyes, at once sad and soft, Le said to her in his accustomed silvery tone: "What is your business wiv-h me, madam?" "I want you to pay me for the coat you have on your back ; for it belongs to me--to me and my husband, Landry, tailor to Mon sieur le marquis," replied Madeleine .pee- vishy, and surveying her debtor insolently from head to foot. A blush of shame overspread the young man's cheek, an expression of impatience appeared in the contraction of his brow; but he repressed this emotion and answered mildly: "I am so unfortunate as not to have it in my power to pay you yet, madame--" "Not in your power, eh?--that's easily said, but I don't take such coin a? that. When people have no the means of payig page: 28-29[View Page 28-29] for their clothes, they should order none. I'll not go hence till I have my money;" and Madeleine seated herself without cere- mony, whilst Letoriere remained standing. "Listen to me, madam. In a month from this, I am sure of being able to satisfy you, upon the faith of a gentleman. Only nave the kindness to grant me this delay- I beseech you." The words "I beseech you," were pro- nounced with an inflexion of voice so noble and yet so touching, that Madeleine, already moved by the deep distress which he seem- ed to bear so heroically, feared lest her compassion should be awakened. She re- solved to arrest this feeling at once, and had recourse to vulgar insult in answer to the petition of' her debtor. A great security, the faith of such a gentleman as vou! 'What should I do with it, thin you?"' ' MAldam!" cried the marquis; then checking himself, he continued in a voice of dignified sadness: "Madam, it is cruel in you to speak to me thus. You are a woman -I owe you money-I amin here in my own apartment. How can I answer you? Do not then itsrive to render more painful a sit- uation in wlich, I pray, you may never be placed!" "But you'll have no more money at the month's end than now," said Madeleine, harshy. "That's a mere tale!" JIf nvmy uncle, the abbe du Vighan, to whom I ipurlpose making an application, be not returned from Hanover in a month, I will enlist for a soldier, and the bounty mon- ey shall be flithfulily remitted to you. You see, then, mnadarn, that I can pledge my word as a gentleman, that you shall be paid." The marquis spoke of this desperate re- solve wVithl so much dignity, and in an ac- cent the sincerity of which was so apparent, that Madeleine, somewhat moved, repented of having;r one so far, and replied: "I don't wish to force you to enlist, not I, but I do want' to le paid ; the account has been standing long, enough. Sell something- you thenl-" "( Sell ann thing here, madam?" and with a disconsolate look, he directed her attention to his cold an(d scantily furnished lodging. At this gesture so sadly significant, Made- leine cast down her eyes, her heart sank within hler, but yet she added hesitatingly, and pointing to the two gilt frames: "Why, yes, these two pictures?-" "These pictures," said the marquis with a dignified earnestness, "1 are all that I possess of what once belonged to my parents, whose portraits they are; and for the first time they[ see heir son blush for his poverty." nInese words led Madeleine to compare the interior of her own abode, which was at least one of Cmnfort, with this chilly' apart- ment, the wretched retreat of a gentlemau ' (for the claims of gentle blood had not yet been called in question): she felt her angel turning almost into pity; especially, when she perceived that the young imarquis trem. bled with cold in his wet clothing. In violent temperaments, extremes meet; dame Landry, ever since her departure from the shop, had given the irritation of her feel- ings no chance of abating; this paroxysm could not last: like all over-wrought pas- sions, her anger fell flat (if we may be al- lowed the expression), at the first reflection which her heart, naturally good, suggested. The marquis was so handsome! he had replied to her abuse in so sad and yet dig- nified a tone; he seemed to be suffering so much from cold--he who had doubtless been nursed in the lap of luxury--that the good woman, experiencing, moreover,the resistless attraction of this singular personage, passed without any very apparent transition from insult to respect, from harshness to com- miseration. She readjusted her head-dress, stammered out a few unintelligible words, and disappeared, to the great surprise of the marquis. The old tutor, who only awaited the ter. mination of' this conference in order to leave his den, half opened the closei-door, and said: "1 Is that vile harpy gone at last? Pardon le forso basely retreating before the enemy." it Were vou there, my good Dominique? Well! you have heard-oh! God, what hu- miliation! To be regarded by that woman as void of honesty! Oh! 'tis horrible. Dominique, I am resolved, unless my uncle return in time, to enter the service. I will pay this cursed debt with the price of my enlistment, and thus, at least, I shall not have to blush-" "t What! enlist and renounce your bril- liant hopes?" "They are but delusions! I went again to the palace to-day-,there is no hope. In order to continue the suit against the Ger- man princes, or the intendancy of Hain- tonge, it would be requisite to deposile with i the attorney, more money than 1 shall ever possess; I abandon it. But hold, Domi- nique-I do not feel well-I am cold ;" and the marquis sank trembling upon the edge of his bed. ," Poor child! I do not wonder," said the tutor with a sigh. "To be exposed to this chilling rain, to return and not find a spark of fire, and for a welcome home to receive the insults of this wretch, whom I would fain thrust into the chimney in place of a fagot-for, alas! as to wood- Heaven knows, if I could-" "Enough, good Dominique," said Leto- riere, placing a finger on hls lips; "Have you not already done too much for mel Have vou not abandoned your class-yoWl profession?" "And did not Socrates, the sage, the great philosopher, leave all, and follow Al- cibiades! Only, as it was not so cold at Athens as at Paris, Socrates had not the mortification to see his pupil shaking with an ague-fit. But come, tal:e my advice and lie down--take off your wet clothes--you will be warmer in bed." '"You are right, Dominique; for I do not know, but--I think this isfever that I feel-" "Well, Nwell! there is nothing left to suf- fer now;. to see you fall sick completes my miser!' 'Then turning round with an an- gry air, Dominique exclaimed, as he stretch. ed forth his clenched fist towards the door through which Madeleine ha. made her exit.--" 'Tis you! then, cursed sorceress! with your ill-timed railing, who have brought this calamity on my unhappy pupil! Why did I not spurn vou from the doe r?" In the midst of Dominique's apostrophe, the door opened, and the tutor sew, to his astonishment, a porter bringing in two enor- mous algrots, and some bundles of vine- branch kindling. "You are mistaken, my man; this wood is not for us," said Dominique, with a sigh. "Does not the marquis de Letoritre live here, mai good sir?" 'He 'does." "'Well, then, the wood is for him. The )ig lady with a brown hood told me she was coming back again with some live :oals, and the things to make an egg pos- ,eSt, for the marquis." "The b9ig lady in a brown hood?" de- manded Dominique, with amazement. i Yes, sir: the same that paid me for the wood." That paid you for the wood? Do you hear that, my worthy pupil? You are going to have a fire!" cried Dominique, turning towards Letoriere, who, being already m a burning fever, had betaken himself to his bed. In happy season, dame Landry herself game, with a look of confasion, to solve this enigma. The worthy housewife carried in ( one hand, a coffee-pot full of boiling water, i and in the other, some burning coals upon a E shovel. N When the porterwas gone, observing how i pale the marquis looked, she exclaimed: t "Poor voung gentleman! he has the fe- i ver-that's certain. ' Tis the effect of cold I } -and Hought I not to have been ashamed 1 to keep him in conversation, whilst he was t shuddering :!-Come, come! don't stand t there staring at me like a wax figure, my dear sir. Lay some wood on the hearth- t light the fire, whilst I break the eggs to f make the posset with. Have you at least such a thing as a clean cup?" Then ap- f praching the bed, she laid her hand on the a thin coverlet. "Gracious heaven t why p Monsieur le marquis is not half covered- h e go and fetch two or three warm blankets I- for his feet. And his head is much too it low; he must have a pillow. Quick! bring e one hither. What! this recess has no h curtains? nor the windows either? You d must see that the light hurts the marquis's u eyes. Come! bestir yourself; I can't do every thing." ,t The honest tutor to whom all these hasty "orders were addressed, stood gaping with '- astonishment before Madeleine, and striving y to explain to himself the cause of this sud- - den change in her. Presently he burst into - the following soliloquy: "( 'Tis his charm I r the charm that nature has endowed him r with, which operates. He seduces the tai- ! loress, as Alcibiades did Timea, the wife of t Agis, king of Lacedemon; and that, too- rwithout detriment to virtue; a conquest doubly honourable on that account! My , dear madam, I must confess, we have un- fortunately neither pillow, curtain, nor blan- ket," said Dominique, sadly. "What wretchedness!" 'said the softened Madeleine to herself. Then observing that I the professor was still wrapped in his toga, she cried, "well, then, until we-can get something better fobr the bed, give me that blankelt, instead of m uffling yourself up in it like a masquerader before Len(; a;re you not ashamed, a man of jyou age . an d the dame laid violent hands on the skirt ot Dominique's 'extemporaneous' toza. But he, forcibly resisting her attempti to divest him of his garment, exclailmedt: Listen to me, my good lady; pray, foribear-don't pull so hard. ' Tis a matter of propriety- I will impart it to you, who are of an age to hear such communications, and moreover the wife of a tailor;" and, Dominique ad- ded, in an under tone, "my sinmallclothes, as our fore-fathers would have said, being absolutely unfit for longer serilce, and hav- ing no robe de chambre, I am obliged to substitute this species of Roman mantle for a more convenient article of dresvs." "Is it possible?"i said Madeleine, hastily dropping the end of the blanket. "If that is the case, I must send Landry to you this evening." She then continued in a low voice, as she added fuel to the clear bright fire which sent its cheering warmth through the desolate room: "Is the mlarquis asleep 2 if not, let him drink this ;" and she gave him a cup of the warm posset she had pre- pared. Dominique approached the bed on tip-toe. "How do you feel now?" said he to his pupil. "I am cold-my head aches," answered the latter, in a feeble voice. "But what fire is this? How is it that we have afire "It "The charm you possess has procured it from this good and worthy woman. Thereb an excellent beverage, too, which she pre. pared, and which you must drink while it in hot. 3e of good cheer, then! Your stab* page: 30-31[View Page 30-31] t length, is in the ascendant; I see it oeaming through the respectable physiog- nomy of madam Landry." The marquis, tortured by an excruciating headache, understood but little of what Do- minique was saying, and least of all, of the rising;star he alluded to; however, he took the cup, drank its contents, and fell into a sound sleep. The good woman then ap- proached the bed with a noiseless step, tucked in the clothes with all the care of a mother, and having done so, seated herself by the side of Dominique. ( Be generous, and pardon me, Sir," said she; 4 I have just been very insolent to M. le Marquis; but do you see, my husband had provoked me; I must say, too, that I had never seen the poor gentleman before! So young, so pretty, and without either fa- ther or mother too--and then a nobleman like him to be unable to buy fuel in the mid- dle of winter, when we poor working peo- ple have a good warm stove! Indeed, I shall always reproach myself for having da- red to speak insultingly to the marquis; but rest assured that, as long as AladeleineLan- dry lives, she will ever hereafter be his ve- ry humble servant. Jn short, Sir," (and the good woman cast down her cyes as she took a small purse from her pocket,) "on my way hither, I was paid a bill of 300 livres -you see the marquis is bed-ridden, he will perhaps need something, a physician even' to him I should never have dared to propose it, but with you I can make bold to So so. Ilere, Sir, we will charge this to his 'account, and pray forget the ugly words I have spoken." "On that score, we are perfectly even, my dear lady; you called nme an owl, I call- ed you an osprey, so no more of that; but as for this loan, I am bound to inform you that it is uncertain when the Abbe Vighan, my pupil's uncle, may return; and that it may not be in our power, for some time to come, to repay you what you so generously offer to advance ; but after the scene which I have witnessed this morning, I should be afriaid--" ("Say no more about it, Fir, or I shall sink with shame, upon my word, I shall. M. le Marquis will pay us when lie is able; thank Heaven! sixty pistoles will neither .make nor break us." "I will be responsible for this debt then, myself, my good lady ; my half-yearly in- come from the 'salt-excise,' will be your security for the amount." ell, so let it be then; methinks I am now almost pardoned for my insolence. I'll no -v go homne and fetch all that the marquis stands in need of, and come every day, if you will allow me, and be his nurse; for you men know nothing about taking care of the sick, ii I may say so without offence to you, Sir." Thereupon Madeleine left Dominique with his young charge, and to the enjoyment of a cheerful fire, which had not been the old man's lot for many a day. . CHAPTER IV. MYSTERIES. THE indisposition of M. de Letoriere was drawing to an end; he was almost conva- lescent, thanks to the unremitting assiduity of Madeleine, her husband, and their appren- tice Kraft, who one and all seemed anxious to rival the devotion of the good Dominique. The marquis evinced so much unaffected thankfulness for these touching manifesta- tions of their sympathy, he seemed so to justify, nay, merlt them, by his delicacy and goodness of heart, that the tailor and his wife felt an ever increasing attachment for their "pretty noble," as they called the marquis. Spring was approaching: one day, Domi- nique, who had gone out for the purpose of persuading an attorney to follow up one of Lctori6re's suits at law, returned with a countenance of joyful surprise; the appren- tice Kraft followed, carrying an immense basket of fruit and exotic flowers. Upon a small label pinned to a magnificent pine-ap- ple, were written the words; "To M. le Marquis de Letoriere." After having ga- zed at this charming present with childish curiosity and admi-ration, and tried in vain to trace whence it came, (for an unknown person had left the basket with the porter,} the marquis substituted for the address it bore, the following,: "To my kind friends, Landry and his wife," and directedl Kraft to convey the fruit and flowers to their desti- nation. ",You will tell them that I know not whence I have received this gift, but it is the first and only return I can yet make them, and I send it as a token of my eternal gratitude." A t the expiration of a few days came yet another surprise; in a beautiful wtriting-desk which was left with the porter by a boy from the establishment of Bordier, a cele-. brated cabinet maker, was found a note to this effect: "Your heart confirms the opin, ion that has been formed ofyou.-'Tis well. Send these letters to their address." In one of the compartments of the deslk, Leto- riere found two sealed letters, on one of which was written, "To Mr. Landry, Tai- lor, at the Golden Shears;" and on the other; "To Mr. Buslon, Attorney, at the , Chatelet.' The latter was a worthy limb of the law, to whom the marquis had confided the pro. secution of his suits; but who had as yet, declined taking any steps thereon, for fear of having the costs upon his own shoulders. Leioriere and Dominique gazed at each other in amazement. W What did I tell vou?" cried the expro- fcssor. - Will you believe me now? or will you still mistrust your destiny? The son of Clinias had not a brighter one!" Bewildered by this adventure, of the is- sue of which ihe could form no idea, the marquis bade 'Dominique deliver the attor- nevy's letter according to the address, and sent that of Master Landry by- his porter. (n an hour afterwards, the tailor, Madeleine, and his apprentice, were on their knees be- fore the young nobleman. "Thanks to you, monsieur le Marquis, I ftave now the patronage of my lord the Duke de Bourbon!" cried Landry; " a nett income of six thousand livres per annum! I'm a rich man for life!" "Thanks to you, monsieur le Marquis, our neighbour Mathurin, who was walking ofr with all our custom, may now go liang, himself in a fit of envy," said Madeleine. "Thanks to you, monsieur le marquis, my mistress, no longer worried by the fall- ing off of our trade, swill now let my ears alone!" said Martin Kraft. "Iy friends," replied Letoriere, "I am delighted at your good fortune; but believe me, I regret having no concern in, or know- ledge of the matter." ( Nay, monsieur l. Marquis, how can you sav so?" exclaimed Madeleine reproachingly; arnd taking the precious missive from her pocket, she read: "( Master Landry is noti- fied, that at the express recommendation of M. le 5IMarquis de Letoriere, H. R. H. the Duke de Bourbon pleases to appoint him to the office of tailor to his person and house- hold.' See there! M. le Marquis!" resumed Madeleine, and looking at Letoriere with eyes bathed in joyous tears, she continued: "' T'lls employment makes our fortune, and yet, on the faith of an honest woman, the basket of flowers and the note that M. le Marquis had the kindness to send us yester- day, gave us still more pleasure." i' So far you are right, my friends," said Letoriere; " it was I that sent you that pre- sent, which I received from an unknown source. But I knew nothing of the contents of the letter which was handed to you to- day; it is a mystery I cannot fathom." At this moment, Dominique entered with every feature wrought up to an unusual ex-. pression: he had ascended the long stair. case so precipitately that he could scarcely speak; the only intelligible words he uttered were,-"Rich, rich-the attorney-the law suit-I told you so!" and he threw himself upon the neck of his pupil in the most dra- matic style. "My good Dominique, compose yourself,' said the marquis. "' Tell me the glad ti. dings which transport you thus." "Yes, by heaven! glad tidings indeed," said the ex-professor, still panting for breath. "Just imagine me arrived at the office of this Buston,--this bird of prey--your attor ney. When the clerks see me enter the study, they begin their indecent raillery, as usual,/at my expense. I treat them with Socratic scorn, and ask for Mr. Buston. Ac. cording to custom the saucy knaves answer me in chorus, and in every variety of tune, 'no' at home! not at home p In the midst of this infernal outcry, I approach the head clerk, and show him my letter,-0Oh! if you had seen his face!" cried Dominique, burst- ing into a fit of merriment, and slapping his knees. W "Well, well! go on," urged the marquis. "Well! the head clerk had his mouth already open, to re-echo the insolent banter- ing of the rest, but as soon as he recognised the hand-writing, he became as serious as an ass under the operation of the curry- comb, imposed silence on his comrades, and rising respectfully, addressed me thus: ' Al- low me the honour, Mr. Dominique, of con., ducting you to my patron.' Upon being brought into the presence of the lawyer, who had hitherto treated me with inso- lence, or made himself invisible, another scene lakes place! ;The vulture becomes a turtle-dove, and having read the letter, com- menced cooing to this effect: 'I leave ne- ver for an instant doubted as to the favoura- ble result of the marquis's suit, versus the intendance of Haintonge, in relation to the woods of Brion.-This letter removes the only difficulties in the prosecution of that affair, to which I will at once turn lily t- tention ; in the mean time the docurm its regarding the grand suit against the G ;^i nan princes, shall be put in order. I have, more- over, such confidence in the goodness of M. Le Marquis's cause, that I am willing, :i., to make him an advance of twenty thousand livres-a sum not amounting to one-fifth of what he will recover, without doubt, from the intendancy of Haintonge."' "This is a dream!-a dream!"-sald the marquis, pressing his hands to his brow. "On my conscience, it seemed so then to me; and to assure myself of the reality of what I' saw, I accepted Aiaster Buston's of- fer, as your authorised representative." "Well?" interposed Letoriere. "Well-!" said Dominique, handing a pocket-book to the marquis, " having taken my individual receipt, he presented me these 20,000 livres in drafts at sight on the ' fer- me generate.'" It would be impossible to paint the joy and surprise of all the actors in thiis sceneo With reiterated thanks and blessings thi tailor and his suite withdrew. page: 32-33[View Page 32-33] The marquis, when alone with Domi- nique, wearied himself with vain conjec- tures as to the Source of this mysterious pa- tronage. Bordier, the cabinet maker, could give no information respecting the purchaser of the writing desk. The attorney main- tained a dogged silence in regard to the con- tents, as well as to the writer, of the letter which had led him to take so different a view of the marquis's lawsuit. The secreta- ry of M. le due de Bourbon, who was next apllied too, stated that his highness had himn- 8elf ordered the appointment of Master Lan- dry to the tailorship of his household. When the marquis was fully restored to health, he hired, in company with Domi- nique, a small apartment in the faubourg Saint-Germaine. The honest Jerome Sicard, the coach-driver who had insisted on giving the marquis a gratuitous ride, because he looked " so like a good angel," was instal- led, to his great joy, as valet de chambre. This indeed was the only reward he solicit- ed, when asked by the marquis in what manner he could cancel his obligation to him. We need not add that Sicard, Master Landry and his wife, were generously re- compensed for their kindness. It was a singular fact that none of the good deeds of the marquis escaped the no- tice of his mysterious benefactor. A little lnote would arrive by post containing such words as these:-" 'Tis well-go on-you are watched." At other times, he would receive advice dictated by the soundest wis- dom ; he was urged to enjoy the pleasures of the world befitting his time of life, but to preserve inviolate the uprightness and puri- ty of his character; for "he was counted upon hereafter." Then again Letoriere was reminded that the exercises of the Gymnasium were wor- thy of a nobleman. He adopted the sug- gestion, and soon excelled in fencing, riding, and all such feats as require activity and flexibility of limb. At times these billets, which revealed a thoughtful and increasing tenderness, reach- ed the marquis in a manner at once pleasing and unexpected. Now neatly deposited in an elegant vase de Sevre, filled with flow- ers, which an unknown messenger delivered to the porter; then again, in an envelope of satin, with his initials and arms curiously embroidered upon it, which he found in his pocket on returning from a tennis-court. This singular correspondence had contin. ed for about a year, when Letoriere gained is suit against the intendancy of Haintonge. On the day after this judgment was pro- sounced, a groom, dad in the livery of the marquis, brought h-m a pair of splendid English horses, of a breed which had lately come into vogue. Their harness and hou- inpgs were of the most costly and elegant kind. A letter, couched in the following terms, accompanied this new gift: "Your suit is gained, you may now live as it becomes a gentleman of your rank Go to Cherin the genealogist; he will draw up ypur titles of nobility, which you will de- posite on the " architable," so as to be pre- sented to the king and received at court. As you will doubtless have the honour of at- tending his majesty in the chase, these hor- ses will be of service to you.-You still con- tinue to please." To all the questions which Letoriere put to the groom, he could get no other answer than, that a stranger had bought the ani. mals of Gabert, a famous horse dealer of that period, telling him that lie would send the harness for them after a while. The stranger, he added, was dressed in black, was rather stout, and about fifty years old. Some time after this new surprise, the mar- quis received a note to this effect. "Go this morning to the ball at the Ope. ra; stop at the ' king's corner,' between 12 and 1 o'clock; wear a black doming, and fasten a blue and white ribbon to it." Letoriere had never been at an Opera ball in his lile. His habits were by no means those of a recluse, but his time had hitherto been engrossed- by gymnastic exercises, walks with Dominique, protracted readings of the Greek and Latin poets, and frequent visits to the Comedie Francaise. Although Dominique had no great knowledge of the human heart, he at times felt a little unea- sy at seeing his pupil remain so calmly se- date at an age in which the passions usually manifest themselves with so much violence; the thought had crossed his mind that the mysterious friend of the marquis was a wo- man; but he had never hinted this suspi- cion to Letorie/re. When the latter informed Dominique that he was going to the Opera, the ex-professor conceived the happy/idea of accompanying his pupil. Letoriere acceded with great pleasure to his wish, and they set o-t1 to- gether. When fairly in the midst of the crowd, the two friends, as much out of their ele- ment as a pair of newly arrived provincials, had a world of trouble to find the " king's corner," and soon presented an object of rail- lery to the initiated: the marquis with his slender waist, elegant gait, pretty foot, and delicate hands, might be easily taken for a woman; whilst the tall, gaunt, and awk- ward Dominique passed muster as the hus- band. Letoriere reddened with anger under his mask, and it required all the authority and entreaties of Dominique to prevent him from betraying his excitement. At length two dominos accosted them. The taller figure caught Dominique bo the arm, whilst the other approaching Le- toriere, whispered in his ear:-"Go on, your course pleases-persevere and hope.' The marquis perceived that a small box , had been slipped into his hand; but without allowing him time for a word or gesture, the doming disappeared in the crowd. Letoriere stood like one enchanted. The voice which had whispered in his ear the very words that his unknown protector had so often written, was that of a feimale, and sweet beyond description; le fancied, too, that he saw a pair of full blue eves beam- ing through the silken mask. Intoxicated with joy, and with a thousand new emotions awakened within him, the marquis completely forgot Dominique, and conceived the preposterous idea of finding his doming, and distinguishing, amongst a thousand, the large blue eves which had rested upon his with so singular an expres- sion of tenderness, At 5 o'lock in the morn- ing, he discovered how vain was the search ; and returned home, impatient to ascertain what were the contents of the box. He found therein one of those large seal- rings, at that time. very fashionable; it was studded with diamonds, and had a charming blue eve in the midst of a cloud, delicately enamelled upon it, and so full of expression, that Letori/ere instantly recognised the soft and tender glance of his domino. On the ring was inscribed in microscopic charac- ters: "I1 vous' suit partout,"--' It follows- you everywhere." The letter ran thus:- "I You are twenty years of age; with youth, beauty, rank, wit, and grace, you have wealth enough to be lavish. Your future is mn your own hands.-There is one who wishes to see whether the counsels that have been given you for a year will contin- ue to bring forth their proper fruits--these communications will now be discontinued- 7ou are master of your actions-but vou are everywhere followed. In four years from this date, however your conduct may have answered the expectations that are formed of you, you will receive a letter.--Till then, courage!-hope on and persevere.' For a month the curiosity of the- marquis had well nigh crazed him. He hurried like a lunatic through the public walks, anxious- ly scanning all the blue eyes he met, and comparing them with that on his ring; many of these drooped their heads timidly before his eager and restless gaze, others looked languishingly at him, and not a few lighted up with anger, but nothing could he disco- ver. He recollected that he had been ordered t to leave his titles of nobility upon the " ar- chitable," in order to be received at court; he complied with the requisite formalities, and awaited the return of a distant relation, Ma le Comte d'Apreville, to have the hon- our of being presented to king Louis XV. CITEPTER V. THE CAVALIER. THE marquis, unable to divest himself oi the. idea that he was deserted by his myste. rious protectress, was one day walking along the edge of the grand canal of Versailles, in a fit of sad and lonely musing. He had come from the riding - school, and an appro- priate costume greatly enhanced the ele- gance of his form. This consisted of a green coat with gold lace, scarlet small. clothes. a vest of the same color, and high boots of shining black morocco, the tops of which were of fine lawn. Letoriare saw, at the distance of a few paces from him, a cavalier, beyond the middle age, who, in spite of every effort, could not induce his steed-to pass by a marble pedestal. Two persons were watching this contest, one of whom, in a coat of pearl-grey taf'ety, with silk frogs of the same color, might be from 50 to 60 years of age, and had a coun. tenance at once handsome, noble, and be- nevolent; he was arm-in-armn with another, whose slight and somewhat bending form showed him to be his seni6r, who was su- perbly dressed in the old style of the Regen- cy, and had -a pale face, deeply furrowed with wrinkles. The gentleman who was more plainly dressed than his companion, observed, as he pointed to LetoriLre: "What a charming face!--what a pretty form and gait! 1 never saw any thing more enchanting-did you, marechal?" ( "Hem-hem!" said the latter, with a dry cough. "What, that little jockey there? He's not bad-looling-rathergreen, though-he'd do well enough to carry holy water," answered M. le duc de Richelieu, who had kept up the old habit of using slang phrases and vulgar pronunciation, which prevailed among the roues of the Regency., "A saint like you might find employ- ment, then, for his pretty face; you, who a're so liberal of court promises--your holy water, as you call it!" said the other, in a tone of satire. The horse was still restive; the rider, tired of gentle means, had recourse to the whip and spur, which only caused the ani- mal to rear and kick in a formidable manner. M. de Richelieu and the other walker gradually approached the marquis, who, seeing two persons of respectable age ad. I vancing towards him, saluted- them re- spectfully. , Well '! young man-which will come off best in this wrangle-the horse or the rider?" said the friend of M. de Richelieu. 4Upon my word, sir, I hardly knowJn The equerry's arguments are lashes to page: 34-35[View Page 34-35] which the horse replies by kicks. Such a conversation may last long." At this reply, given without any undue assurance, and yet with the confident gayety of youth, the stranger smiled. "Talking is easy, my young master. I shoulld like to see you in the equerry's seat. You don't knew that that beast is a Ukraine mare. She is just imported from Gcrmany, and is a real devil. La Guerinie/re himself cat do nothing with her." "If I were in the equerry's seat, sir, I might be more fortunate, although not more expert," said the marquis, resolutely. "Indeed! well! will you try? will you mount Barbara?" The mare is so handsome-so noble- notwithstanding her restiveness-that I ac- cept your offer with pleasure, sir; besides, the grass is so thick here, that I desire no better carpet to roll upon," answered Leto- riere, with animation. "With a physiognomy and form like his, tne sly rogue is a match for horses, men or women-and his falls are as harmless to himself as cat-leaps." "Halloo! Saint Clair," cried, the other, addressing the equerry, " don't worry your- self any longer; dismount. This young gentleman has a mind for-a lesson, if you will give him one," he added, laughing. Saint Clair obeyed the order; and dis- mounted. Somewhat offended at the close of the stranger's speech, Letoriere replied with respectful firmness: "I shall always receive with pleasure or submission the lessons which I may ask for or deserve, sir; but I am not not aware of having placed myself in a position for ei- ther, at this moment." The stranger and M. de Richelieu looked' at each other, with a strong effort to re- strain their laughter. "Take care," said the marechal, in an under tone, "he's real game, I'll warrant!" "You'll see he is going to give me a challenge, and that before you, too, the se- nior marechail of France, and president of the court of honor," said the other; and looking very seriously at Letoriire, he added: ' Your tone is rather high, young master!" "By Heaven! my tone is as it should be, sir!" retorted the marquis, throwing him- self into an attitude of defiance. 'At this implied threat, M. de Richelieu and the stranger laughed immoderately, and Letoritre's anger was rising in proportion, when Saint-Clair, who had not without dif- ficulty dismounted, approached hat in hand, and said to the gentleman dressed in grey: ^ Sire,nothing can ever be made of this mare." ' The king!" cried the confused marquis; and he knelt before him, and inclined his bead with an air of deep contrition. "By Saint Louis, my young friend," said the monarch with a smile, " we have knolwn the time when your attitude would have made us feel that all gentlemen are out equals;-the olden time when a cavalier might break a lance with his sovereign." "Ah! Sire, pardon-pardon-- "Rise, gentle paladine ;"--and witlh thai majestic grace which marlked the slightest actions of this, the wittiest and most amia- ble of kings, he gently patted the cheek ot the offender, who still kneeling, kissed the royal hand with profound veneration. Letoriere rose, his face burning with blush- es which only served to heighten its beauty, whilst tears stood in his fine dark eyes, so deeply sensible was he of wnat he deemed the unspeakable kindness of his king. This youthful emotion, pure and ingenu- ous as it was, gratified Louis beyond nmeas- ure; the most adroit flattery would have failed to make so pleasing an impression. "t What is your name, my son?" he asked, looking witlh interest at thd marquis. "Charles Louis de Vighan, Marquis de Letoriere, Sire." "De Haintongc," said the king, who was remarkably familiar with the genealogy of his nobles. "But you have deposited your titles?" he added; " you ought to: have'been presented to me-why has this not been done?" "Sire, I was awaiting the return of my relative, M[. le comte d'Apreville-to be thus honoured." "Marechal de Richelieu-will you be his sponsor?" asked the king, ti'rning towards the duke, who replied by a respectful bow. "Come, my sons" resumed Louis, "I do not forget that you almost criticiscd Saint Clair-,-you owe him some sort of satisfac- tion.-Will you venture to back the vicious Barbara?" and he pointed to the nmare, which in spite of all the threats or coaxing of the equerry who held her, still shied and rear- ed as before. "i Are you not afraid of this mettlesome charger?" "I fear but one thing, Sire, and mat is, to prove unworthy, of the gracious kindness with which the king nonours nme in ordering mne to ride for his pleasure." "Why, he is perfectly fascinating! What grace, what exquisite tact in all his replies," said Louis to M. de Richelieu, as Letoriere with a throbbing heart, drew near to the re- doubted Barbara. "The king tells me sometimes that I am a dabster at reading frontispieces; well I let me tell your majesty aforehand that this young fawn here will be full-fledged in less than six months. And then, look out for him, for he'llturn out a real dove-killer, and no mistake." "Under your auspices I doubt it not, marechal," said the king, smiling; then writh a sudden feeling of real alarm, he exclaim ed: "Sir! the unlucky youth will kill him- self-Saint Clair,--whv did you not hold ' her till he was in the saddle?" i( Sire," returned the old equerry in a sur- ,v tone, " the gentleman told me he could do without my help"- - "And by heaven! ihe has done so"--said tie astonished king; "but look, marechal, on my honor, this is sorcery! There now! He approaches her, and she does not stir.- He caresses her, and the hussey no longer acknowledges it by a kick or bite. What say you to that, Saint Clair?" "Why, Sire, I say-H know not what ,o say. WAe have always been obliged to make use of a blind bridle in order to mount her; she is shy and skittish" - "And there lhe is in the saddle, I vow!" said the now dealghted monarch, " and how beautifulv lie sits! what grace, what sup- pleness of limb! what think you of him- Richelieu!-and you Saint Clair?" asked Louis, whose fiace lighted up with pleasure at the s!ll of his voung protege. "i-Trothl an d I must say, the young shaver sits well ; but there's some hocus pocus about himl, or he'd never have tamed the kicking b;east," answered the marechal. ("It cannot be said, that the gentleman's -ttitiude is absolutely bad, Sir," said old Saint 2lair. " ile sits firnily; llis body and les are well placc l; hie seems to have a light, yet stea'vN hatd- '"And what the plagute would you have now?' interp:osed the king. "But let us see Vulhethler she will pass by the statue that frightened her so much. No, no, she re- fuses,--wliat tplusnes!-Alas! poor youth!" "He's screwed. himself to the saddle, I think. The deuse a bit will lhe budlre," cried tlic -nare a;lhal; "for all his baby face, he's a very Hercules." "Your' lordship knows it is nothing to. stand the praticing of a horse - the science consists in foreseeing and preventing it," observed Saint Clair. "In that case, you must be satisfied now," resumred the king; " for see! she passes by hIe statue as quietly as an ambling pad pony- Well then! he is a sorcerer," cried Louig XV.-, loolking with surprise at the no less astoniliShed mareclhal and Saint Clair. Letori6re, having made the mare repeat- edly pass antd repass before the statue that had frightened lier, rode towards the king. In one hand he held his hat, and with the other reined in 3Barbara, who chafed .and champed her bit with all the coquetry ima- ginable; inideed she seemed proud of the easy burthen which she bore. The coun- tenance of this youlig noble,' flushed with exercise, end the proud satisfaction of having acquitted himself so -well before the king, was radiant with happiness and beauty. Louis XV. surveyed the face of his young protege with tL:,t calm and melancholy in- terest which men advanced in age or sa. ted with pleasures often feel in contempla ting the unrestrained joy and fond ardour (d youth. This worthy prince felt happy, that ne had the power of indulging a generous ca' price, in opening to our young marquis a path of life as brilliant as that o' the hero oi a fancy tale. "' It's good sometimes, to be a king!" said he to M. de Richelieu, with an involurmary burst of tenderness. The old marechal appeared to scrutinlse the young king's looks, before he replied in 'order to catch the sense of an exclaman tion which he understood not. All was dead within that heart worn out by a nar- row, yet masterless ambition, and hardened by unrelenting selfislness; incapable of'pen- etrating the king's intention, the tharechlal replied by an insipid court compliment:- "If it is sometimes good to be a king, Sire, it's always good to be a subject of your majestyv." Louis XV. answered coldly and with a shrcastic smile: "It is likewise a plea- sure to-find ourselves so well understood." Then turning to Letoriere, who still await- ed his commands: "Well, my boy, how did you contrive to tame that unruly ani- mal so quickly and easily?" "Your Majesty told me that the mare was imported from Germany; knowing then that the Germans talk very much to their horses, and direct thenm almost as much by word of mouth as with the hand or spur, I spoke to her in German; and hove no doubt that she recognised the lan- guage as being familiar to her ear; for she became gentle allnost instantaneously." e "He is rightt. Nothing can be simpler than that-don't you see, Saint Clair?" said the king. "Nothing, Sire," interposed Letoriere tim- idly, and glancing at the old equerry, who seemed deeply humiliated; " nothing i , uitu- pler to one who knows how to speak Gter- man." This rather bold reply was dictated by so delicate and generous a feeling, that Louis exclaimed with not a little emotion.: "' Well said, my boy--you are right; if my old friend here had understood German, he would have done as you did; but as it is now too late in life for him to learn it, and Barbara appears to have no taste for the French language, keep the marc, marquis de Letoriere-'tis the king's gift." The marquis returned a respectful salute. "Richelieu, you will present him to-mor- row, at my early levee;" then with a kina nod to Letoriere, Louis XV. proceeded to the chateau. On the morrow Letoriere's official presen- tation took place; in a few days, the king made him his equerry, and short ly 4ter. wards, granted him a cornetcy in h io ntu queteers. page: 36-37[View Page 36-37] From that moment Letoriere " wore his blushing honours thick upon him," for the ktmg's affection increased daily. It would be tedious to relate how the fa- vorite became, par excellence, the man of fashion; his progress, however, was easy and natural. In addition to the advantages of rank and personal attraction, his mental qualifications and virtues, Letoriere display- ed a refined taste in every thing. Hischoice of horses, furniture and dress, became the criterion of elegance and good taste. In short, at the expiration of four years, the poor runaway student from the college du Plessis had Secome one of the most shining noblemen at court; and, like all men en- dowed with superior faculties, at once exci- ted admiration, envy, hatred, and even ador- ation. It would be inconsistent with the moral tenor of this narrative to detail the numerous "A bonnes fortunes," of which the marquis was the real or supposed hero, (for his dis- cretion was as remarkable as his other rare qualities.) This, however, was well known, that no one could justly reproach him with base- ness or treachery in love. In two duels in which he was a principal, he displayed both valour and generosity; the only fault that could be justly laid to his charge, was a too profuse expenditure, which he was vet able to support by the successful issue of his suit against the intendancy of Soiton, and by the munificence of the king, who appointed him in rapid succession to the offices of honorary abbe of the Trinity of Vendoine, command- er of the united orders of Saint Lazarus and Our Lady of Mount Carmel, colonel of horse, counsellor of state, and grand senes- chal of Aunis. Such wis the prodigious height of fortune to whicdh Letoriere had attained, in about four years after his auspicious meeting with the king. In the midst of all his successes, he had never forgotten the blue eyes that greeted him at lie Opera, and every day he cast a sad glanl'v at his ring. Notwithstanding the motto, "Il vous suit partout, written under that orb of heaven- ly blue, which seemed to cast upon him a loss of calm and tender confidence, the mar- quis feared that his mysterious protectress nad entirely forgotten him. For fbur years he had received no tidings of her. He was sumetimes apprehensive that his reputation as a man of pleasure, by arousing the just jealousy of his incognita, had alienated her from him forever; at other times he fear- ed that absence or disease, if not death it- self, had witlhdrawn from him the tokens )f aer singular affection. : A stra11nge 1 d inexplicable feeling lad aIl- ways rigorously deterred letoriere from dfitihtu with blue eyes-whatever sacrifice of inclination he was thus called upon to make. He dreaded the profaning a passion which he pictured to himself as so unlike all others. The farther he advanced upon his flowery and perhaps too easy path of life, the oftener did he look back, with .he idolatry of memlory, if not with regret, upon that period of tranquil happiness, when the master feeling of his existence was the hope of receiving one of those letters in which the " dear unknown," had penned her les- sens of wisdom. He trembled as the fatal term expired which was to decide his destiny, by the receipt of a final letter.-This letter he re. ceived, in four years exactly to a day, af- ter his interview at the Opera; and it ran thus: "For five years I have loved you--follow- ed you through weal and woe, watching the bright or dark phases of your changing destinv.-You are worthy of the heart I tender you with confidence.-I am an or- phan, my hand is free, and I offer it to you. -No power on earth can shake my resolu- tion to be yours. If you refuse to realise my fondest hopes, in the solitude of a clois- ter I will still offer up my daily prayer to Heaven, to grant you the happiness which I would have bestowed upon you. JULIE DE SOISSONS, PRINCESSE DE S**-* C*." (1) CHAPTER VI. MADEMOISELLE EE SOISSONS. M'LLE Victoirc-Julie de Soissons. prn-. cess of S * *C I ' v, lived with her aunt, 1II'mlle lamareclale princess of'Rohan- Soubise. The princess Julie, who was about 25 years of age, if not wlhat is usu- ally termed a " splendid beauty," was an eminently pleasing one; her person, which did not exceed the ordinarv height, was emineltly graceful. Although the fashion of wearing powder was then at its height, M'lle de Soissons used it sparingly, and that too with reluctance, upon lher fine "brown hair, which she chose to arrange withI her own hands - a happy caprice v which served to heilghten the charins of her face. Her eyes were blue, her lips and teeth vied with the coral and the pearl, and thlle form of her face was that of a lengthened but graceful oval: her complexion, of deeper tilt than that of a blonde, was yet so pure .and freiCli, that the eve would lhave rested with less ,lcasure on (1) Urgent motivez of propIrir-ty indrce ps toffavo recourse to asterisks for the filling upi of the athort names. cue of dazzling whiteness. The prevailing i exoression of her features was soft and sad. t Of a sensitive and reserved temperament, i the slightest emotion called the mantling blush to her face and lovely neck. At the recital of a tale of woe her eyes were instantly veiled with tears. Although i a princess of the blood royal, no one felt less the pride of' rank; the exactions of her ele- vated position were a burthen to her. In- clination would have led her to adopt hab- ] its of simplicity and, retirement rather than 1 the life of polmp, to which she felt herself i condemned. 8elf-retired and proud - but with the pride of a soul which is conscious 4 of its superiority, that which was but the effect of delicacy and timidity, passed for disdain, in the character of the princess Julie. Vulgar, selfish or presuming natures, were her especial abhorrence. The most promi- nent trait in her character was her independ- ence. Her frail exterior concealed a bold and resolute heart. No human power could influence her decisions, when she herself thought them founded upon reason and jus- tice; and yet by a strange anomaly of cha- racter, notwithstanding her princely birth, her firmness, her nobleness of heart, and her mind stored with amiable accomplish- ments, the princess Julie usually mani- fested an inconceivable timidity of demean- or, even in presence of those who were her equals in nothing Although an orphan, and having lived for seven years with the marechale de Rohan- Soubise, she felt no sort of sympathy with her relation. All the secrets-of her heart were reserved for her nurse Martha, a kind and artless creature who had raised her, and loved her with the tenderness of a doting amother. For fiv;e years, Ati'lle de Soissons had ob- stinatelv refused the most advantageous oilers as to birth tand fortune ; for five years, she had loved the Inarquis. Her kind heart, independent spirit, and tier disposition, ial which there was a slight touch of romanace, could not remain insensi- ble to thel recital of the young nobleman's heroic bearing when, under the pressure of abject poverty. When JMrome Sicard went to deliver Le- toricre's mns;sa(ge, after having carried him gratui:ously to the Palais-Marchand, the reader villt remember that a man stepped from the coaclI at the moment dame Lan- dry's exasperation against the marquis was at its height. Curious to know the issue of the adventure, this person, who was no other that the steward of Madame de Ro- han Soubise, p\ail a second visit to the "4 Goldce Sheart1-;" and fuund diame T Made- leine pa.:'ionitclv clolquent ia lher debtor's praise. 'lthe sit\ward Icftcd this si;na'ulnr fact to dame lNart ha, the princess Julie's nurse, with all the particulars relating therc, to, and the latter, of course, communicated it to her mistress. Hence the livtey inter- est which Julie soon-took in the affairs of the marquis. During his sickness she often sent her faithful nurse, carefully disgucised in a hood and mantle, to make inquiries concerning Dominique's pupil. Again, when convalescent, de Letoriere was visited by dame Martha, who brought him the basket of flowers and fruit that have been spoken of, in such a manner as to fur- nish no clue to the discovery of the donor, and was instructed to watche for his first coming out. The princess longed to see'this charmer, who fascinated the most pedantic tutors, rebel tailoresses, and vulgar coach- men. As a lady of her rank could not go out alone or on foot, she bade Martha inquire whether there happened to be a shop in the rue Saiht Florentin where she might lie in ambus :ade for the young marquis, un- der pretence of making purchases. Now there chanced to be an obscure milE liner's shop directly opposite de Letoriere's lodging. Having ascertained at what hour he regularly walked out, Julie, however whimsical the idea might seon, directed one of her aunt's waiting-women to accom- pany her in her carriage to the strange mil- liner's, where she intended to order some caps. She soon saw through the shop window the professor and his young charge.- There was so touching an expression of mel- ancholy on the fine countenance of the young noble, and Dominique's care of him seemed so tender and paternal, that M ile de Soissons was moved even to tears. Having given her order, the princess de- sired to be driven to the Tuileries; where Letoriere arrived soon after, and seated him- self in a sunny spot with Dc:,iunique. Now that she could survey at leisure tow captivating face of the lnarquis, she felt a deep, and to her, novel emotion: her heat throbbed violently, she trembled, she blush ed-she loved. There is no doubt, from the singular char racter of the princess, that to her view the misfortune that pursued Letoriere constitu- ted his chiefattraction. The generus heart of the voung girl suggested that she was here called on to repair what she almost deemed the wrongs of destint. Possessed of a considerable income, and sure of the fi. 3 delily and secresy of Brissot, who had been ! employed by the prince her father, sle di- rected him to inquire into the marquis's af- fairs. Having done so, the steward wrote to the attorney, 11ho happcned to be hi' own, to go on with the law-suit, and to ad- ; atlnce the necessaryV sIums of money to the : larquis. It was!te, too, t t at procured 1.an , dry's prIomotton by meanis of a preseuc to page: 38-39[View Page 38-39] oeo cf the inferior officers of the duc de Bourlion, to whora such appointments were eaurr sted. For a long tim, the princess contented bf., f' with chlleri .ing in secret reverie her iac, t and passionate fondness, with eagerly waitingr for the rare opportunities that of: ered for seeing the marquis, and by wri- ting to him fiorm time to tiime. When by her secret intervelntion he had gained his suit, she restcived to leave him t free to act, in or- der to satisfy herself of lis worthiness. She wrote the few words which she handed to him at the opera, and awaited the result.- On the (day of' the marquis's presentation, M'lllle de Soissons was in company with the Dauphine, and near enough to Louis XV. to hlear hiix s:.ay to every one that approaclced !limlJ, as lie Ipointied to hi s young pro10teg:- ' Confess now, is lihe not chlarminll?" AWri wl hat joy, with wlhat pride did she regard this app;roval of hler choice by the prince, wlMo, as we have said, immieditely appointied him lo an office about his persoUl. M'lle tie do Soissons, whlo had previously cared little for court fetes and' trips to M1a[- ly, tilenceiforward made her appearance on all these occasions. Louis soon admitted his you:;':., equerry to his military staff; and Ywhetilcr c,ut for an airinrg, or engaged in the chlas, ietl delirlghted in al luding to Letoriere's grace al adrite and quoting his witty and delicate repartees. HHer we wIlust n e otice anothanoanomaly in the coDddict of the princess.--The greater the progres-s of love in her heart, the more woult sihe strive to avoid opportunities, not ofmcci.,g', but of makingl formal acquain- tance with Letoriere. After a residcnce of two vears at court, the fitvor and successes of the marquis were at their lheighrt. Love adventures were at- tributed to hiln; and yet, strange to say! M'lle d(e 8oissons felt no jealousy. The proud anld pure passion of the young girl emboldened her to disregard the ephemeral and gay anmours in which the marquis was said to inidulge. She felt so confident, so worthty of being fondly and exclusively lov- ed, as soon as she should reveal her secret to hitin, that shhe turned almosta deaf car to ' the details of his gallantries. Julie determined to keep a watchful eye upon t1le olject of her love, in order to judge if e wcr, w'orllhy of 1her. She thouoht it quite natural that such attr.:,tions as tis shoull frocutre hm copquests ; but she de- sired to know whlether his generosity and i goodness of' heart remained unimpaired in 4 the midst of so many allurements. With lofty minds, the sligl;test evidence has due i weight; every-day incidents furnish per- haps stronger proofs than striking and bril- liant traoits of devotion; the latter belong to the chapter of accidents the former are ha- Wit. "Three F)or and obscure persons then I had done Letoriere real service in his days of misfortune; Domnlnique, the tailor, and his wife. It was with infinite pleasure that M'lle de Soissons discovered that the marquis had not discarded Dominique, but treated him still with deferential kindness. Often did Lctoriere detail with grateful pride the obligations he laboured under to these good people. A young man who re- rmained undazzled by unparalleled success, who was still unpretending, lkind and deep- ly thankful to his humble benoefactors, must indeed possess a noble heart. Julie's purpose was irrevocably fixed ; she would franklyv and boldly off'er her hand to one whom she found so ;wortlhv. No scruple as to birth or firtlune should dGeter; she was an orhall, and consider- ed herself at,liblerty to select her husband. Utterly regardless of the reasons which her aunt urged daily, to prove the necessity of certain alliances to her, a princess. of the blqodd ro al, Julie answered bluntly, that she did not see the need of quoting p.;recedents, but tihat A'lle Montpenlsier hal'd married Al. de Lauzul ; as for herself, she would not scru- ple to wed nll artizan, if that artizan deserv- ed her love. 'line. (de 1ohan Soublise, entirelly iZrno- rant of her liece's secret, tre ;ted these t lti- menltal maxillis as idle revelries, b}i',llghtt in- tovogue by the romances ,(*r .' n us, l. .Mie. de Soissons made no replt'/, alld rcz:o^lutelv adihered to 'her olpinion an:d ll r jcct. iHer love appeared to inrena ll i Witeach aIvourh that fortune lavishicd on the iarqunisji. It seemed as if she awaitedl the I sl 1and bri ghr-l est booll of the fickle I goddess, in order to crown the whole with the offer of her hand. When once assured of the unque siionable worthiness of hIllr choice, Vwitthou. regret oi shanme, and with all the c(.cidlenceand sin. cerily of :an ingenuous and lioble nmiind, sihe wrote the letter in which, as the reader knows, she tmade him the offer of lher lhaid. Happily for him, and W1'ile de Soissons, Le- toriere knew how to alppreciate the depth and holiness of such love. Sated with his too easy conquests, lie rcs(,lvcd to devote himself, heart and soul, to t!ce maiden who had so nobly placed her future haptpiness in his keeping. He liad often stoden interviews with tlih princess, of which Martha was the only witness. 3I'll1 de Scissonjs wished the marquis without delay, aill as a pro- ceeding of mere formality, to ask her hand of Mad. de Rolan Soubise. Slte, however, reserved to herself the right of fillowing, her own inclinations, in case of cithler acquies- ence or refusal on the part of her aunt. -As a man of honour and good sense, Letoriere explained to Il'lle de Soissons. that upon the issue of his suit, against the dukes of Bruns. wick-Oeis, and t1he prince of Brandebourg Iareuth, depended his 1 eing acknowledged I as of princely birth, and the recovery of a fortune suited to his rank. He thought it -therefore advisable to await this consumma- tion, before presenting himself to the Mar&e- chale de Rohan Soubise. The suit being gained, M. de Letoriere's position would be so exalted a one, that no objection could be raised to his marriage with the princess Julie; if lost, his situation remained unchanged, and it would then be time to dispense with the approbation of her family, in the event of' their opposing the match. But he was not disposed to cause an unnecessary rupture, which under any circumstances would be extremely unplea- sant. Such was Letoriere's advice, which, how- ever, wNas very unpalatable to Julie. Her determined spirit, could not brook this tem- porisin,. The marquis proposed referring the question th the king, whose touching kindness towards him went on increasing, and M'lle de Soissons approved his choice of an umpire. Louis commendedLetoriere's delicacy, and promised to write to his am- bassador at Vienna to facilitate the admis- sion of his just claims. In case tihe suit should be lost, this excel- lent prince wYas to speak with AMme. de Ro- nan Soubise, so as to remove the obstacles which the house of Savoy mlight, oppose to the alliance. A month Ifad elapsed since Dominique's de- parture for Vienna in order to ascertain the sentimenms of the members of the Aulic council, who would hlave to decide, in case of appeal, upon this important question, whtich had been in agitation for nearly a century. It miay be conceived with what impa- tience Letoriere awaited his old tutor's re- turn; for on the result of the marquis's cause almost depenred his union with M'lle de Soissons. CHAPTER VII. THE IOTEL DE SOUBISE. AT the period to Which the reader's atten- tention is now directed, AM. de Letoriere oc- cupied a pleasant and retired dwelling, the garden of which opened upon the rampart, not far from the pavillion of Hanover, one of tlhe appurtenances to 3I. le Marechal de Richelieu's mnagnificent hotel. The marquis's abode was rather an orna- mental cottage than a hlotel. It was sump- tuous and elegant within, but calculated for retirement or even mystery. In summer, it asi completely hidden from the view by lofty trees which surrounded the garden; ma winter, a high fence of ivy, very ingenious- ly trained to-circular frames of lattice-work, so as to imitate trees, supplied the place of summer foliage. Letoriere, alone in his cabinet, was waiting for the return of Dominique, whom he hour- ly Qxpected from Vienna. The princes with whom the marquis was at law, had gicat influence inGermany. It was said that the Aulic Council hadbeen gained over to their interests; Letoriere had thus to contend alone with these formidable opponents. The old professor had been furnished with very urgent letters iirom M. de Choiseul to the French ambassador at Vienna. Louis therein made it klnown to his reprcsentative that he felt deeply interested in the success of M. de Letoriere's cause, and; ordered him to do all in his. power to forward the pri- vate proceedings of the marquis's confiden- tial friend. At length the noise of a ]iost-chaise was heard, and soon Jean Franglois Dominiquf entered Letoriere's study. "Well, Dominique, is there any hope for us 2" asked the marquis, embracing her cordially. "I doubt it--monsieur le marquis." "Is there no anaging these Aulic coun- sellors, then?" "Alas! I should fear so, did I not re- member that Alclbi;ades at last reduced Tissaphernes! But 1 believe these Germans are more stubborn and more skittish than the satrap himselfl!" "And who are these counsellors! What character lhave you heard of then?" "Bad enougj-1-b d. enough! That's my grief.--These judgc. are three in number' the ba-n de lHenferuster, the nmaddest hun ter annmost terrible wine-bilber in all Ger- many; a very Nimrod, who issues firom the forests to take his seat in council iwice a week. Next conmes the Doctor Alovsius Sphex, a learned colmmenttor of Persius, I think-always bristling like a porcupinec with Latin; and lastly the lord of Flacsin- fingen, as gluttonous as all ostrich, and led by a wife who is the greatest tartar-I would say the most peevish protestant that ever carried a Bible hanging by a silier, chain from her waist." "Your portraits are touched with a mas- ter hand, Dominique, and they looli rather frowning. And are these gentlemen of the council firmly wedtied to the interests of the German princes, think you? '" "Man and wife are not more so! This is the first time that these three counsellors, (who cordially hate each other, doubtless, Lon account of their different tastes), have been of one mind; for on other occasions. the flavor of one is sure to bring on1 you the hostility of'the other two." '( So he German princes-?" , l page: 40-41[View Page 40-41] "Have as inueh ground for hope as you fordespair: fir at Vienlia, you pass for some. ting worse than aatan himself." "Indeed?--you are jesting, Dominique." "IWoulld to Heaven it were a jesting. mat- ter! but it is too true. Your reputation as a man of pleasure, a libertine, a fop, a sybar- ite, and what not, has reached Vienna; in the eyes of these grave Germans, you pass for a will-o'-the-wisp, an imp, a sylph, in short, for something as brilliant, as subtile, indescribable and dangerous. Two centu- ries ago, they would have saluted you with a shower of exorcism and holy water; but in this philosophical and enlightened age. they would. b1e satisfied to shut the door in your face, and cry, ,Vade retro!' taking you for Beelzebub in person. Arid worse than all, your caust is to be finally tried by these three judges in a fortnight hence! Oh! that Pluto had them for his guests!" added Dominique, in a tone of imprecation. The marquis remained silent for a while, then wrote a line or two in haste, and hav- ing rung for a servant, handed a note to him. "Take that," said he, " to the hotel de Rohan Soubise; ask for dame Martha, and wait for an answer." Then addressing the old tutor, "I will set out for Vienna this evening," said lie. "You wish to try your fortune, then, and fascinate your judges? Alcibiades, you know, ate black broth with the Spartans, made a centaur of hinmself in Thrace, and with a chaplet of violets on his head, sang the voluptuous strains of Ionia to the soft music of the ly3re." "I shall not pretend to charm myjudges; but you knowr, my old friend, in ailairs of this sort it is better to see with one's own eyes." The conivers- tion between Dominique and [ his former lupil lasted for sorne time long- er, and turned upon the plarticulars oi the suit at law. At the (xpiration of half an hlour, the ser- vant returned with a note for LeCoriere, which having perused, he exclaimed with astonishment : ("How can she think of such a thing 2- but since she insists, let it be so." He then ordered his carriage, and went out, after having requested )ominique to superintend the preparations for their de- parture tlat evening. [We will conduct the reader to the hotel r de Soubise.] Four persons were chattinr in ( a delighlltful little boudoir coloured with red i lacquer of Coromandel. The chairs and ta- a Lies of this charming apartment, which was one of tlic wonders of' the hotel de Ro I an Soubise, l:lad brocade covers of a large crim- s son pattern on a silv. ground. Curtaills of q the same lalterial ]iung in graceftl folds R over the windows and glass- doors. A japan d u vase of purple and gold, three feet high, and :. filled with flowers, was placed before the casement so as to give to the wtole the ap- "pearance of an enameled windcw-shade of - the liveliest colors. Upon racks of massive a silver, delicately wrought and incrusted - with coral medallions, (the work of some I skilful Florentine artist), might be seen s groups of Chinese figures, the fantastic i forms of which baffle all 'description. The mantel-piece was of the finest antique red, * relieved by a frieze, consisting of a mosaic wreath of flowers and fruit; and near it was ta bed in miniature, with curtains, canopy, ,valance, tufts of feathers, and everything I complete. A lilliputian black and red span. iel with long silky ears, plaited with red and silver ribbon, was dozing upon it, half buried in eider-down. An antique china saucer of the color called- king's blue, filled with grated macaroon paste and milk of al- monds, was in readiness for the delicate Puff when he should awake. The marechale, princess de Rohan Sou- bise, M'lle de Soissons, the count de Lu- geac, and the Abbe d'Arcurel, were the ac- tors in the scene that follows. M. de Lugeac, lraving just arrived, ob- served to the marechale: "I You know not what you have lost, Madame, in not being one of the judicious audience at the concert last evening; you would lhave witnessed the strangest thng in the world." "W hat's that?" asked the abbe. "Have Jean Jacques and Arouet embraced each other in public? Did they sing a song in praise of the chancellor?" "Come tell us what this great occurrence was," returned the marechale. "At the concert last niglit 1V1. de Letori. 6 .re was greeted with app)llaluse--and such la)plau-se as thllreatened to brinii the roof aibout our ears., said II. de LuirCac, with a feel inig of jealousy very app;ircii t. "Applause?- Whiiy M,L. de Letoribre is neither a prince royal nor an ncior, as far as mny knowledge of himi goes : and J real ddo not see why he should lhae been applaud- ed," said the marc'lhale drylyv; for without any known motive, and certainly from mete prejudice, she cordially hated the marquis.! M'lle de Soissons blushed deeply, and byhv ' a gesture of impatience Iuperceived by her aunt, broke a thread of 1er embrolidery. "The plaudits w-ere bclstlow(cd on M. de Letorieire's-coat!" resumned the count. "Which was fantastical enough, without doubt!" interposed the abbe. 'JThis beau marqluis must needs set the world talking about him." * Not fantastic either; but so magnificent and becoming, that I, -who do rot pfique my- self on being a great tladmirer of lthe mar. quis, have candour enouh lo own t hat 1 ne. ver saw any thinl hand:owtw. r ,i,; himsehf; dressed as he then was. But when a mat'l devotes Lis whole time to the study of such frivolities, it would be strange if he did not make a iucky hit occasionally. Now for a description of this miracle of dress," said the marchale; "I will then relate a curious anecdote respecting this M. de Letoriere, which will form a singular contrast with his present ostentatious display." "And I too shall have something to tell you," said the abbe; 4"for this very morning the archbishop of Paris furnished me with a hundred tales about this beau marquis!" NTow then for an account of his dress, madam," said M. de Lugeac.-"When the first part of the concert was over, M. de Le- toriere was seen to enter the box of M. le bailie de Solard, ambassador from H. M. the king of Sardinia ;" and M. de Lugeac bowed to M'lle de Soissons, who was cou- sin to this king. "Thpe box was empty; the marquis stood for a feow moments, exam- ining the hall. He had on a neat straw co- lored coat of watered silk, with cuffs of a changeable gold and green material, and a shoulder-knot of the same colours; you see, madam, that so far, nothing could be less gaudy." "A tolerably good assortment of colours; nothing more!" interrupted the abbe. ,1 But" resumed the count, " the marvellous part of my story relates to the jewelry-the offset to this simple dress. In the first place his steinkerque . ribbon was kept in place by a magnificent emerald clasp; then, every button on his coat and vest, his shoe- buckles, and even the mounting of his sword, were all of costly opal, from which darted green, blue and orange-tinted rays, as daz- zling as those of the diamonds that mixed with these opals." "Why such a set of jewels is worth more thllai 20,000 crowns!" ejaculated the "I have no doubt of it," replied 5I. de Lugcrac; "e'tis therefore a piece of nlad prodirgality on his part. And yet, when the marquis imade h]is aplpearance in the box, thus spDlelndidlyv attired, with a thih, frost- like covering of unbleached powder on his hair, which, you klinow, it is his fashion to wear in wavy curls about hs temples:-yet, I say, madaml, o sort of ecstacy ran through the admiring audience; then fol!owed a mur- mur of still increasing applause; and finally a cry of bravo! burst fronm the lips of almost every spectator." "Nay, this is really no less than a heathen- ish ovation--this deiftiing a man for his beauty," said the marechale, with a disdain- ful smile. "But what is quite as amusing as the entlhusiasmI of the Parisians for the graces of M. de Lctoriere, is the profound airnirationl he hias of hi:ms elf. Thel vn ity of this nmodernl .arcisus, they sav, pa ses all borunds; furlcrat and w eepir-ln; (1ai(dens call n vain upon this haughty Celadon; without doubt, he deems no woman worthy of hs homage." "Or perhaps, madame, iby deems one alone worthy of his love," said M'Jle de Soissons, raising her sweet and noble face which beamed with gladness, love and pride, on hearing this indirect compliment to the marquis's fidelity. The marechale, not noticing her emotion, continued: "Nay, my dear princess, if it were so, we should know this phoenix--this paragon; for discretion is not the 'forte' of M. de Letoriere. No, no, believe me-if his choice be made, (as you suggest)-it is so disreputable that he is obliged to conceal it from the world." ," Perhaps, on the contrary, the world you speak of, is not, in M. de Letoriere's eyes, worthy to know his secret v" rejoined M'lle de Soissons. This second repartee made an evident impression on the marechale; for she ex- claimed : "It is clear, my dear Julie, you do not know M. de Letonere, or you would not de- fend him thus!" ,' I was speaking in general terms, ma. dame; but be assured that if I did undertake the defence of any particular person, I would do it boldly and candidly--when the proper time arrived for doing," said IM'lle. de Sois- sons, with marked emphasis. "Oh! I know you to be a heroine in that respect, my dear child; as a friend, you are truly so, and as an enemy, you are an enemy indeed. Allow me then in turn to have my feelings of preference and antipathy; and candidly-M. de Letorie're has his full share of the latter; I hate anything connected with intrigue and obscurity. This marquis, five years ago, had no iiiend but lhis sword; how, I aisk, can he halne a set of jewels worth twenty thousand crowns, a sumptu- ous household, and play uasdeep as a a fer- micr generale?"' I have foiund, nadam, that personMs wha ask such questions as: yours, can generally answer therm," said Julie, dryly. "Upon my honour, my dear, I should be very nmuch perplexed to do so in this in stance," said the marechale, with a look ot perfect candour; "but if I had the misfortune to be one of M. de Letoriere's friends, 1 should desire nothing better for his reputa- tion than to see him buried foir a sorcerer, whatever doubts I may have respecting the philosopher's stone." At this sarcasm, M'lle de Soissons, looked at the t me-riece with an expression,of un- easiness and impatience which she would fain have hidden. - ,( His expenditure is truly inconceivable," interposed M. de Lugeac. ' "'Tis true, some sav lie is fortltnate ait ele g ielimin-tabie, oth- ers that the L;in and lldida1nt e )Dubarry, who are well disposed towards him, have assist- page: 42-43[View Page 42-43] ed him in gaining two very important law- suits; at all events, it isevident that His Majesty is tewitched like every body else and it does seem as thoughl every thing this marquis touches turns to gold. Wouid you believe it, Iladaine? a poor botch of a tai- lor, who made him a coat on credit when he was a Illre runaway schoolboy, has now become the oracle of fashion!--the marquis does not try to Conceal it, but speaks of it openly., This Landry of the 'Golden Shears,' whose stores are now so dazzling, and who is one ofe the richest artisans in Pa- ris, owes his unlooked-for fortune to the in- fluence of thecse magic words repeated throughout the city: -T'He's tailor to the beau Iciorieire.' "Really," said the marechale, impatient- lyr, "( this sounds like one of the tales of Perrault." "The description of his bedroom," repli- ed M. de Lureac, "seems still more lile a lairy tale. Th'ley talk ol a dressing case of chased geoll, enriched wi lh jewels-the workmal nship of'G (;o tticer." "I have h1eard dihe archbishop orraris de- clare a thousand tiimes," said ihe abbe "that tVi. de fLetoriere was little less than the serpenlt of' paradise. Should lie ever againl 1ave Itu-iness in the ecclesiastical zourt of' Paris," -aid ihe good prelate to me this mornllil,-", " 11 have him muffled in a nood like a i1l1ack penitent, to hide his filce and change the (one of his voice ; for in a question of i)recedence in whch one of his i relations was in:crested, this tempter over- 1 set all nmv arnTuments, nnd bewitched my t ca011ons, Wv:o I hereIpon could find nothing to talk about but hm." At that Ill()mI(nt the alass-door of the bou- 1 doir was raidetd, ,nnd a valet de chambre an- nounced in a !oud voice': " onsieur le mar- I quis de ,cltori6rc!" "Mi. de Letolibre in my house! Why I t lave never ;!,di!'tCd hrn -- what audaci- d ty!" exclaimed t}le marcilale, with no less fc anger than surprise. t a CIlAPTER VIIT or THE DE1ARnTURE. UroN hcari'ri tc le mlarquis announced, aI madame dtp Iliaii SoubDise rose from ]ier tl seat; and ilt!c c(.,lnt anll abbde, together with bw the prince s Juliec, followcd lher example. Aw WlIhe tie malrqrlis entered, lie found them standllill The ar" e areC e i fuli fe. dress, looked proud, angrv and conlemiptu- ac ous; the albb, at a loss for a suitable ex. pression of countenance, had recourse to la Puff, who disturbed by his caresses uttered bla a growl: the count leanin1 with his elbow jes w-- on the mantle piece, played with his watch Iis guard; M'lle de Soissons, calm and resolute, e; rested one hand oil her embroidery frame, "s and directed to Letoriere a look at onae ten. ou der and thankful. ai- The marquis had scarcely saluted M'me. en de Rohan Soubise wlich he did with every mw rtark of respect, when the latter turned to- is wards AM. de Lugeac, and pointing to M. de of Letoriere with a gesture of supreme con- en tempt inquired:; , who is that gentleman V T, The count too much embarrassed to re. a- turn a ready answer, hesitated; at which n- the marquis remarked dryly: "M. de Le- ed toriere will dispense with hbe count de Lu. e geac's introducing lim to her ladyship." "'Tis at my request alone, madainme, that tM M. de Letoriere has conselnted to colle hith- f er," said the princess JuliC, ill a firm and de- cided tone. i- "At your request? -yours, Julie?" ex- a claimed IM'me de llohan Soubise with sur- )f prise. "m Jmpossible!" e "I T may be ilftortunatelv a stranger here," replied Letoriere ;" ", but I trust ) our lady- - ship will distinctly utdelrstiad, that 'with- out the express orders ofl A'lle de Soissons, n I should not!have presented mrLself at the r hotel de Soubise-an heonour to h,;lich I have 1 hitherto hiad the merit, or modesty never to e aspire," said the marquis, very ironically. I ' Princess Julic- wilI you explain your- 1 self? this scenhllas lasted too loing al- ready!" cried the marechlale in a colmmalnd- i lng tone. The count and abbe seemned dis- posed to retire, but 3A'lle de Soisscns said to them, "You will oblige me, gentlemen, by re- maining in order to be witnesses of what 1 ]lave to say to I'me la mlarechale." The two gentlemen bow(d respectfully; M'lle de Soissons then addressed iher aunt as follows: "I have requested Il. de Le- toriere to come hither, madaml, because-I desired to tell him before me, and you. be- fore him, what are my unalterable inten- tions; I am an orphan, and mistress of my actions, as long as they are worthy of' my birth; but you are nmy relative, mada, - I know what I owe you-and I cannot shew my respect for you better than br ma- king you acquainted will a determination on which my destiny depends." With the exception of the marquis, the actors in this uncommon I ece I ere We lost in amnazement. Madame de Iolhan-Soubise, thunderstruck at the resolute tone assunmed by the princess Julie, could scarcely believe what she heard. M'lle de Soissons continued: "I have of fered my hand to M. de Letoriere; he has accepted it "-- "You have offered your hand!" ejacu- lated the marechale: , princess Julle- y xi have either lost your reason, or this is all a jest as ill-timed as it is unworthy of you." Letoriere cast a look of reproach upon Julie, at seeing her thus violate the promise she had made, to defer talking any decided ate'p tftil the termination of is lawsuit. The princess turned towards him: "You shall nomv hear," she said, " whyl have act- ed thus ;" and addressing her aunt she ad- ded with solemnity: "I have not lost my reason, and I speak seriously. Before Heav- en that hears me; before you, Madam, be- fore vou, count de Lugeac, and before you, abbe" d' Arcueil, I, Julie-Victorie de Sois- sons, swear to lord no other man than M. le Marquis de Letoriere here present;" and she extended to him her hand with a grandeur and simplicityv ( gesture truly sublime. The m;arqluis took the proffered hand and klssed it wrth deep yet respectful tenderness. The scene was so totally unexpected, so overpowe"llng, that the nlmarchale remained, for a few m woments, gazing silently and in- quiringly at the countenances of her almost petriied frilends, the count and abbe. "And I," repl'.d the marquis, " hler'swcar to de- vote miy existence to the noble. and gener- ous princest. who deigns to honour me with her choice. "And I, by all the authority that relation- shin gives rae, and the law allows," cried Madamue de Rohan Soubise, arousing from her .tupor, " declare to you, M'l1e de Sois- so;ns, that this shameful allillance is imprac- ticalde, and shall not take place 1" -The honour w*hich M'lle de .Soissons conlfers upon lme renders it unnecgsary, ,Madam, that I should reply to the insulting language vyou have just addressed to me," said ile MAIrquis, dee ply moved at this scen e. 1 The princess Julie resuLmed, addressing he\ aunt: " \With the delicacy which ought to characterise the mnan to' whoem I confided myt destiny, M. de Letoriere wished to as- certain the result of' the suit which is to be brought before the Aulic Council of the Em- pire, before he should formally accept the hand I had freely offered him; for if he gain his suit lie will be recognised as of a princely house, ,and there will bc no longer any disparity of rank between us, (to use a hackneyed phrase;) but if this proposition on his part was noble and delicate, it was base on mine to accept it. It was seeming to vield to prejudices which I have never adilitted, to make my decision depend on the result of the suit. I would not subject tnv conduct td such an interpretation; I therefore resolved honestly and openly to make known to you my resolution, whatever mav be the issue of the suit. M. de Leto ri6re sets out this evening for Vienna ;-this evening I shall repair to the Abbey de $Montmartre, there to await his return ; for rou can easily conceive, Madame, that it i ,mpossible for me to remain any longer un- dei tms rool. "However disagreeable to you, Made- moiselle, the hotel de Soubise may be, and &dubtless is, you can only leave it for the purpose of consummating a marriage wor thy of your house, unless you would wish to return for life to a convent." "Unless, Madame, His TMajesty shoujd think proper to sanction my going immedi- ately to reside with the Abbess de Mont- martre," said M'lle de Soissons, handing to Madame de Rohan Soubise a letter which she took firom her pocket. "The King's own hand!" exclaimed the Mareclhale. "I wrote yesterday to His Majesty, who was acquainted with my designs; read his answer, Madame, addressed to v ourself:" "For reasons known to ourselves, My fair Cousin, we desire that l'lle de Sois- sons should retire to the Abbey de Mont- martre until farther orders. Yours affectionately, LoUIs."' Madame de Rohan Soubise. in utter as- tonishment read the letter again and again. "Tis wondrous well!" said she at length, striving to repress her v;exation ;" you have carried the day, Mademoiselle-but His Majesty may recall-will doubtless rectall a measure into which he ihas been surprised-- And 1 will immediately go seek an inter- view with himn!" "I believe, Madame, I know enough ct "s Majesty's intentions, to feel assured ot the uselessness of such a proceeding," said IM'lle de Soissons. Then givinl her hand to Letoriere: 1' Adieu, my friend," said she; "go to Vienna--you will find me at the Abbey de Montmartre. The same evening, M. dc Letoriere was on his way to Vienna. CHAPTER IX. THE LORD OF HENFERESTER, 1 THE spacious manor-house of Henferestex i was situated at the distance of teai leagues s north of Vienna. It was of ancient date r its blackened and ivy-mantled 'walls, ana r roof overgrown with moss, gave it a desert- n ed appearance. The body of the edifice, to- t gether with a large tower that flanked it on I the east, had almost fallen to decay. The 3 only inhabited part of the mansion was the r western tower; and in a few scattered bor- * ders of box still visible on the esplanade in s front of the chatcau,which was surround- e ed with lindetn-trees, might be distinguished ,r the traces of n former parterre, the place of , which was now usurped by briars and paia- 1. sitic plants. Autumra was drawing to a close, and * page: 44-45[View Page 44-45] mellower tint of purple was beginning to overspread the broad hue of woods which skirted the horizon. The sky was dim and rainy, the air damp and cold: as night approached, the high and narrow window of' the ground-floor of the tower was suiddenly lighted up; its colored panes, although somewhat blacken- ed with smoke, shone brightly, and the arms of the Lords of Henferester were displayed in vivid contrast with the increasing dark- ness. The lower hall of the tower was a vast circular apartment, and served the Lord of Henfertster both for kitchen and dining room. The upper stories contained several dilapidated chambers, which were reached by means of rude and narrow winding steps of stone. A cord, which passed through rusty iron staples in the damp wall, helped to ascend this unhandy staircase. A huge fire blazed on the spacious kitchen hearth; a copper thlree-branched lamp, hang- ing fronm the smolky joists of the ceiling, en- livened the room ; on the rough-cast walls, and supported upon stag-horns, might be seen guns and hunting knives, tusks and other trop])ies of' the wild-boar, together with several rwolf-heads stufl'ed with straw. The ground, beaten like the threshing floor of' a barn, was strewed with chopped straw, answering for a carpet. In one cor- ner was an en(ormous barrel of beer, broach- ed and mouiicd upon two posts. Above this two otDer lcasks of' different dimensions: one containing F. henish wine, and the small- er filled wih k1irsch-wasser from the Blackl Forest. On ench side of these casks were f arranged pcwVler drinking cups of various t sizes. A little fairther off two large barrels were a placed against the wall, one filled with salt I bacon, lhe oilier with sauer-kraut. A fork 1 and iron spoon which surmounted the two t barrels, served (to speak armorially) as pen- dants to the ll,wter cups. t Lastly, a meal-tub containing a dozen a loaves as l-are as millstones, completed the E culinavy anlpparatus of the room. Nothing h save a quarter of venison roasting before the huge chiinly fire, and a bubliing pot of b sauer-kraut and baconr here gave evidence L of a kitchenl. There were none of those cleverly-constructed furnaces or moulds, or tl stew-pans for various uses, so dear to the te epicure. f The stock. of utensils consisted of the tl gridiron lhat hlung at the wide mouth of the V oven under the mantel-piece, and a strong V roast in-spit turned by a dog. th A luarter of deer, fellow to the one that ar was roasting. hung bleeding from an iron nook near the door of entrance. ih Thanks to the mixed exhalations from ve venison, bacon, sauer-kraut, beer, wine aia I ke'rch-wasser, the atmosphere of this room s , to was so thick, or rather, nourishing, that a h delicate stomach might, upon a pinch, have been amply satisfied therewith. v P A mixed shower of rain and hail was h falling without, and pattered against the )f window panes. Is The old white-haired Germans, in grey i- loose coals with belts of raw hide, were Is busily preparing supper for the Lord of Heu- d ferester, who had been out hunting since i- morning, and had not yet returned. The preparations were simple. The ser- It vants drew up to the fire a long and heavy )f oak table; at the upper end of it they g placed the Lord's chair, of the same mate- I rial, and having his armorial bearings rudely d carved upon the back, which terminated in s a kind of' cornice. No cushion lessened the i hardness of this seat. i In front of' the chair, the servants laid a plate or rather dish of silver, two pounds of ibread at least, and three tankards which - were also of silver and armorially chased, and served their lord both for glasses and , decanters. The first, used for beer, held two pints; the second, for wine, a pint; and the third, filled with kirsch-wasser, contain- "ed a half-pint. These tankards were usually replenished in the course of the meal; of cloths, nap- kins or covers there were none; these being regarded as ridiculous superfluities. The hunters of that day had always two knives in their belt; one of which was straight and long, and intended for piercing the beast; the other, broad, curved, and a little larger than a common table knife, was used for hacking the carcase; and with this too they cut their meat at table. The valets next arranged pewter plates and bits of bread on each side of the table. These inferior places were reserved for the lord's serving men according to their impor. tance. The seigneur of Hcnforester, faithful to the old patriarchal traditions of his country, ate Awitlh his domestics. On his right sat Erhard Truches, his whipper-in; on his left, his major domo, Selbitz! The I atter, having set the sauer-kraut boiling and the venison roasting, assisted Link, the old groom, in preparing the table. As for women, one only was ever seen in the chateau; old Wilhelmine, the minis. ter's housekeeper, came every Saturday to make and bake bread for the week, whilst the lord was in council at Vienna. On Wednesday, the other day of council, dame Wilhelmine attended to the linen, always in the seigneur's absence, for he had a rooted antipathy for the fair sex. "The master is late this evening," said the major domo, casting a rueful look at the venison which was beginning to dry. Tis a dark night and the rain falls fast, oelbitz. Perhaps the chase has led him to the forest of Harterassen. Master Erhard Tiuches sent word by Karl, the hound- keeper, this morning, that "twas a wild boar the seigneur had to hunt. Now, these boars that start from the Wvoods of Fersenfak, always make for the- marshes, then for the forest of Harterassen, and at last get caught in the Priory pond. All that makes eight leagues to go, and the same to come back, master Selbitz --." And considering the darkness, and the rain, and the bad roads through the forest, 'tis a ong -But, hark-ye, Link," said the major domo, listening, "is not that his lordship's hlorn?" "No, master Selbitz, 'tis the wind sing- ing through the weather-vane --." " What's the time of day, think you?" asked the major domo; (for the use of docks was as unknown or unacknowledged at the chateau as at Otaheite.) "It must be between six and seven, mas- ter Selbitz' for Elpriin, his lordship's roan horse, has been whinnying for his oats, a quarter of an hour or so. There-dont't you hear him? Patience, patience!" old Elphin," said the groom, turning towards the door; when your comrades, Kolk and Lipper, come home, you shall have your provender, bnt not till then, old glutton! 1"To a certainty, that's his lordship's horn I hear," cried the major-domo. "Heaver be praised!--What weather!--Come, Link- run and take hold of my lord's stirrup, while [ go and throw a basket of wood-ap- ples on the fire to make it blaze." "'Tis his horn, to be sure," said Link, af- ter having listened attentively ;" but his tan- tara and recall are not so lively as usual.- Ah! Master Selbitz, he's had bad sport to- day." "For that very reason don't make him wait. Quick, bestir youself!" The groonm sallied ffrth in haste, and Sel- bitz, after brightening up the fire, laid upon his master's silver trencher a red-sealed let- ter that had been brought by an express from Vienna during the day. At that moment the loud cracking of a whip was heard, together with a stentorian voice exclaiming angrily :--"A murrain light on them, the sneaking curs!-Erhard, see if the piebald takes his feed kindly; for he has had a hard day's run of it!" Then came the noise of heavy boots, iron heeled and spurred; the door opened, and the lord of Henferester entered, accompan- ied by a dozen houndsbespattered with mud, and dripping with rain, who rushed to their accustomed places at the hearth, to dry themsel ves. Their master allowed them this privilege from the love I e bore towards the canine race as the chlef abettors of his favourite pursuit, knowing well that dogs that are &eat to kennel wet add cold often fall sick. * The lord or rather chatelain of Henferep, ter, who was between fortv-five and fiftl years of age, was a colossus in size, :and seemed possessed of a gigantic-strength. As he entered he flung his fur hat upon the meal-tub. His fiery brown hair was cut short; his red beard, which was only shaved on council days, was so thick and spreading as almost to cover his face. His features, strongly marked and tanned by exposure to the air, were harsh, but not without a cer- tain nobleness of expression. His old green tight-bodied coat was soak- ed with rain, and buttoned to the chin. His bulkskin breeches looked black with age, his heavy boots splashed with mud reached high above his knees, and a leathern belt secured a pair of hunting knives with horn handles. A large brass horn hung from his baldric, 'whilst his huge shaggy hand grasp- ed a whip and carbine. Having given his hoin and weapon to his major-domo, who hung themn-upon the wall, the chatelain approached the fire with a dis- satisfied air, distributed several rude kicks amongst his dogs in order to make room for himself, and talking his seat thus angrily addressed the pack: "Bark! ungainly, good-otr-nothing mongrels; 'twculd serve you right to sake you turn that roasting spit, instead of letting you join with noble animals in the chase, To give up after a five hours' run! and all because our bear betook himself to the furze which you found a little too thorny for you--eil? You've become verv delicate, it seems--even you, old Ralph?' he added, aiminFg a furious kick at the animal thus called upon for his defence. The major-domo perceiving lls master's angry mood, attempted to sc;uohe it by re- minding him of his many former successes. "I am not surprised that mnonseigneur should feel vexed at a 'bad day's sport, for he is so seldom unfortunate; l-ut----' "Enough of that," said the chlltelain in a surly tone. "Take that venison from the fire,'and let-me have supper, for I'm fam- ishing; that bear led us as far as the forest of Henterfussen. 'Twas there the dogs gave in before a thicket; to be suri:, 'twas close, and thorny enough to rip any hide but a boar's to make way through it." ,' Your lordship sees, then,; hat it was not altogether the fault of these good dogs.- But your lordship is wet through; won't you please change your clothes?" "Change!-And why should I change, dainty master Selbit.?" cried the chatelain fiercely; "do you take me for a jack-a-dandy -a Frenchman? No, I never shift my clothes when I return from hunting t Do my hounds shift their coats-or my hor- ses 2" "( Certainly not, my lord, but your cloth ex reek upon your' bak like dame Wilhtvb page: 46-47[View Page 46-47] mine's wash-tub." '. That's a proof they are drying." "But-my lord?" "But hold your tongue, master Selbitz the fool, master Selbitz the prattler, and give me a taste of kirsch." Then noticing the letter on his plate he asked: "What's that, Selbitz?" ' A letter, brought by one of the couriers of M. le conte de Hasfold." "Away with all a this business! Is it not enough to have to go to Vienna twice a week?" said the chatelain, unsealing the letter, which ran as follows: ' I beg to inform you, my dear baron, that the Frenchl marquis, M. de Letorie/re, intends visiting you to-day for the purpose of sounding you on on the subject of his law suit; I need not remind you of the almost formal promise which you made to add your vote to those of y our colleagues so as to ensure the triumph of the duke of Bran- debourg. "Accept, my dear baron, &c," "What the plague is the Frenchman coming for?" cried the chatclain in a fury. "By the holy kings of' Cologne, I can't rest a moment! Here's this fop l'rom iVersailles coming to rouse nle like a boar from his co- vert. As far as I can ee, his suit is lost,- absolutely lost; what more would he have? Does he think it likely he can interest me in his favour? A shameless jackanapes who, they tell me, works at an embroidery frame, paints his face, and wears patches? -But, egad! there's no escaping this mar- quis. If he comes I am obliged to show him hospitality; 'tis fifteen leagues from here to Vienna; I cannot let him go back without seeing him. Deuse take the law and all that go to law!-And if he arrive this evening O-I shall have to offer him a bed; and where?-all is in ruins here- And the dainty chick 'ivll come in a litter, too, like a sick woman!"' The baron stamped with rage, called :ia i major-domo, and said :-- "Here's a Frlc'chinan colming here to- night-a marquis-a p!ainati. In such weather as this, otne candnot let him return to Vienna. Whcre shall we put him and his retinue? for this willion has doubtless as many bandboxes and so forth as a wo- Inan.--' "Faith, your Ilonour," said the major domo scratching his car, " (here's no place but the rat-chamber that will kcep out the rain." "' Vell. then, let him have the rat-cham- I ber." Then the baron added with bitter irony: "And to give an exalted idea of the hospitality of the chateau of Henferester, and above all that this delicate visitor may be quite at his ease, don't forget, maior domo, to hang up the handsome silk curtains, to get OUt the bed of eider-down, and the fine linen I , sheets; and beat up the Turkey carpet well put the scented wax tapers in the silver. plated candelabras; and warm his bed with coals of aloe-wood.-Do you hear, major do- "Yes, yes, my lord," answered Selbitz, as he busied himself with removing from the fire the quarter of venison, the bacon and ihe sauer-kraut, and chuckled at his master's pleasantry; " yes, my lord, don't fear; I hear you; the straw-bed shall be fresh alid well thumped, the blanket well beaten, the floor well swept, the cobweb-curtains and hang- ings well shaken, and the shutters opened, so that the moon mav shine sweetly into your guest's chamber, arind iastlv, since he is so delicate, his bed shall 1e tvrarmed--for I'll put the turnspilt into it' The chatelain couid not help laughing at the facetiousness of his major-domo, who gave only a very fair description of the rat- chamber. It was, however, by no means worse than that whielc the baron himself oe- cupied, so indifferent was he to the com.- nmonest comforts of lifets. "To the table"--cried the chateiain im- patiently, drawing up his chair, and taking lis knife from his girdle. At the same in- stant, the sound of the trumpet, such as is carried by the G-erman postillions, was heard. "Can that be the con)founded larquis?- Hallo-Erhard!-Sclbitz-run and admit him," cried the baron, rising reluctantly from his seat, and advancing towiards the door. "He must be bewitched to think of travelling in such weather as tlis-But bah!-in his post-chaise, he's snugger than he'll be in the chateau. Now let's see this beautiful min- ion-this prince of dandies at the court of - France." And the baron stepped out, much agains his will, to perform an act of hospitality t. his guest. CHAPTER X. THE SUPPER. Contrary to the chatclain's expectation Letoriere alighted from a horse instead of a chaise, and put his bridle into the hands of the postillion. The master of Henferester understood too well the duties of his station to withhold a welcome from a gentleman who came to solicit him. Moreover he found Letoriere much less effeminate and foppish than he had anticipated. It evinced no small share of hardihood to ride fifteen leagues on a post horse, at night ana in such stormy weather. When the marquis entered, the "sub. stantial" atmosiphere of watch we hiav alieady spoken nearly suffocated him; there was now an additional smell of the dog- kennel, caused by' the presence of the pack, which at sight of the stranger, commenced barking in marvellous unison. The marquis halted, seemed to listen to this hubbub with. marked satisfaction, and exclaimed in very good German, " on my life, baron, I never heard finer tongued dogs than yours! By St. Hubert! it makes a true hunter's heart beat. Then, without any attention to the chatelain, he began to examine and point out with an air of serious interest the quali- ties of the dogs as they came up to him, and resumed in a tone of increasing admi- ration: "Prime dogs! good dogs! Ours. from Normandy and Pictou, cannot match them. Yours have finer ears, better legs. Zounds! if these are not the finest leaders I ever set my eyes on!--Come here, beau- ty"--And Letoriere took hold of the fore paws of a large white dog with a spot like a black mantle on his back, looked at him with the air of a connoisseur for a few minutes, and said approvingly to the gap- llg chatelain: "This is one of the best in the pack, baron-your blood-hound, is he not? He has seen some service! So much the better! age makes a good blood-hound." Stupified at the assurance and volubility of the marquis, the chatelain, who was too frank a sportsman and too fond of his dogs to take offence at the exclusive attention they excited, and above all struck by Leto- riere's observation respecting the blood- hound,. answered almost mechanically: "But who told you that that dog, Mouk, was my blood-hound?." "Who told me, baron? Why in the first place the print of the boot which I see on his neck and chafed coat, as plainly as the marks of the traces on a draught- horse's chest; and then his deep mellow voice, which proves that he never yelps- Is not this more than enough to point out a blood-hound to one who is no novice in the fraternity of jolly huntsmen. And then whsat a well marked nose! and ribs as pro- minent as my fingers! Believe me, baron, you'll never see a keener blood-hound as long as you're a sportsman'! Take care of them- But hold! I see a haunch of venison get- ting cold there; let's not leave it to spoil any longer, for I'm as hungry as a wolf! You shall see what a trencher-man I am- Your hand, baron! By St. Hubert, our com- mon patron, you are a fine old German gen- tleman! 'I was told so, and now I can an- swer for it." 4i May I inquire, sir, to whom I have the aonor of speaking?" asked the baron more and more astonished at the cavalier de- portment of his guest. "That's a fact, baron. I am the marquis de Letoriere.; I have come to talk with You *bout my lawsuit. But as you will hne a good light to see through this confusion oi darkness, greater than that of Hades tself, we will defer speaking on that subject till to-morrow morning-And now to the table, since I have invited myself without ceremo, ny; excuse the roughness of my- manners, for I am a child of the forest." The chatelain could not recover from his stupor; he had expected to see a mincing; affected, scented, effeminate fop, as igno- ant of sporting matters as a shopkeeper of Leipsick, whereas he met a frank, bold and frolicsome young fellow, who proved him- self a knowing huntsman, and whose neg- ligent dress might well compare with his own. These particulars inspired him with al- most friendly sentiments towards Letorie/re, and the admiration shewn by the latter for his hounds, greatly increased his good will; so that he answered him cordialTv: "The manor-house of Henferester is at 'your dis- posal, monsieur le marquis; I only regret that I cannot entertain you better." "You are too particular, baron. If you. knew me better, you would see that. I could not be received in a manner more agreeable to my taste. To table then, baron,!" and the marquis drew near the fire. Letoriere had undergone a complete moo tamorphosis, morally and physically. Tho gentleman who had been applauded at the- theatre for the superlative elegance of his attire, and the graces of his person, now' wore an old blue hunting frock with velvet collar that once was red, with boots, as heavy, muddy, and formidably spurred, as those of the German Nimrod. His imrpow dered hair, ruffled by the exertion of riding, was tied behind his head with a leathet throng;- his beard neglected, and his deli,. cate hands soiled by perspiration, lokd, almost as much tanned as the chateluin's. In short the marquis was completely chang- ed, even to the enchanting tone of his voic- which was now abrupt and a little husky. None of these things escaped the baron's notice. "Do you kno'w, Erhard," said he *aside to his whipper-in, " do you know tha this Frenchman singled out mn an instant our old Mouk as a bloodhound, and one oI our best dogs?" "Indeed, my lord?" said Eihard, doubt- ingy. , , , Indeed! Erhard; I began to thinl they,;: know something about the chase in France.' Then addressing his major-domo, 'whiist the marquis dr ied himself-at the fiIe, the baron continued;: ' '. 'tRemove these:.plates, Selblitz;? the. French'are not accustomed to our German habits." * .. i *: t' Selbitz was preparing Do Obey the orders" to his great, vexatit n as' wel I as thii' o, Erhard, wah i etoriire,a fe/ful of t'.'iq , ; himself enemies in the chaletain's fioud e page: 48-49[View Page 48-49] hold by a delicacy which they misconstrued, exclaimed: "Nay, nay bandy, would you have me call for my horse and return to Renna without supping I Why, the pest, do yvou make these good fellows take away their plates? Am 1 more of a nobleman than yourself that I should be shocked at your domestic habits?" "It is indeed our old German custom," said the chatelain, " but I thought that in France--" "Baron, we are here in Germany, at the house of one of the worthiest representa- tives of the old nobility of the empire. The regulations of his family ought not to be infringed on; so now, my worthy hunts- man," addressing Erhard, 1" and you my brave supervisor of tuns, pipes and barrels, take your places with the consent of the baron, who, I hope, will not deny me this favorur." Upon a signal from the chatelain, the two servants gladly replaced their plates at the lower end .of the table. The baron then beckoned the marquis to his seat, each made ready for an attack on the venison, and the immense dish of sourkrout and lard which smoked upon the board. The baron was about to plunge his knife into the meat before he carved it, when Le- toriere exclaimed wilh a grave and solemn air, as he laid his hand on the chatelain's aim-- "One moment! baron-Whip me, if I dine without a blessing, and a grace." I The master frowned, and answered with an air of impatience and embarrassment: "Since the death of my chaplain, I have almost forgotten the text, but I say it inter- nally.-Here! Erhard, can't you give us the blessing?" "No, my lord," said Erhard, sulkily; "I say it but once for the whole year, and 'twas yesterday I laid in my stock of blessings." "Well, then, you Selbitz!" ' We, my lord?-my brother, the minis- ter at Blumenthal. asksit for me every day.--- " "Why, baron, are ydu all Turks then? if so, I must ask a blessing," and the marquis rose and said in a loud voice: "Holy Saint Hubert! Granit, we pray thee, that the venison may be fat, the wine good, our appetite keen, and our thirst un- quenchable." He then emptied at a draught the tankard that held a pint-of Rhenlsh wine, wiped his mustaches with the back of his hand, and with an Amen! replaced his cup upon the table. The chatelain laugh- ed heartily at this pleasantry; and imita. t ting the prowess of his guest, swallowed at once his pint of wine, repeated the Amen! with the voice of a stentor, and pronounced his client a really jovial soul. I The two servants, although as mut: tick- led u their master as this unusual grace l - ---e before meat, thought fit to moderate the out, breakings of their mirth. "Selbitz," said the chatelain, enlivened by the repast and the sallies of Letoriere, go and replenish these tankards; and don't forget your own and Erhard's; for this shall be a festival in honour of my guest; and he rudely seized the marquis's waist, and pres- sed it as much by way of shewing his cor- diality as his strength of liand. Letorie/re whose slight form concealed, as we have said, athletic force, returned the pressure as rudely. The chatelain, who was astonish- ed at this show of vigor, said with a smile: "A steel spring is often as strong as a bar of iron, my guest." "But unfortunately, baron, a large cup holds more than a smaller one," replied the marquis. The wine and beer went round; the ba- ron saw with a sort of national pride; that Letoriere, after eating five or six slices of venison, boldly attacked the sour krout and smoked bacon; and that he praised it for the relish it imparted for the wine, of which he despatched two or three times his small and large tankards full. However ravenous the appetite which Letoriere displayed, it by no means check- ed his flow of conversation. His quick con- ception enabled him to place himself on a level with his host, whom he captivated by his thousand sallies; in a word, Selbitz and Erhard were surprised at seeing their usu. ally grave and taciturn lord laugh that eve.- ning more than he had done for years. The whipper-in saw, in Letoriere a finish- ed sportsman; listening with deference to his slightest remarks, his admiiation was at its height, when the baron ordered him to take the dogs to kennel, and give them their suppers. A second pot, intended for the pack, was taken off the fire. The major domo cleared the table as to eatables, and placed upon it the two tank- ards of kersen-wasser, a large jar filled with tobacco, and presented to the baron a vene- rable pipe, which the later filled; at the same time asking Letoriere, with whom he now felt quite at his ease: i , Is tobacco smoke offensive to you, marquis?' His en- quiry was promply answered by the mar- quis' drawing from his pocket an enormous pipe that had indirectly seen long and pro- miscuous service, and filling it with all the ease of long experience. "You smoke too, then, marquis?"-ex- claimed the delighted chatelain. !"What is life without it, baron?-After a day's sport and a hearty meal, what can compare with the pleasure of a pipe, with your feet upon the andirons. and now and then a sip of kirsch-wassen--that wild off spring of the Black Forest,-whichJis, to my taste, as far above the brandy of France, as a moor-fowl is better than a common barn- door rooster." After thisaudacious I sttery, the marquis hid himsdf in a o oud of ba smoke. T he c hatelain , excited by his frequent li- n bations, and perhaps not possessing so calm ch and cool a brain as the marquis, looked at his guest with admiring wonder; he was at loss to conceive how a body, so frail in ap- pi pearance, could be so vigorous; inshort, it how a Frenchman could smoke and drink even more than himself, and drain the " vir- If gin tankard" that had baffled the most for- to midable lopers of the Empire. w To the health of your mistress, my guest!" said he gayly to the rr arquis, " VMy mistress--is my carbine!" said Le- p' toriere, stretching himself out before the of fire, and poking it with the toe of his boot, h the sole of which was a full inch thick. l "' Away with your women, who sicken at w the smlell of smolke,- brandy, or a do(g-kennel, unless they have a smelling bottle at their b nose! Do you think much of women, ba 3 o ron?" * i. Not H'd rather hear the jingle of spurs b than the rustling of silk ; but at my age 'tis t right to do so," said the baron, still more surprised to find that the marquis shared his s antipathy for the fair sde as well as his r fondness for rural sports. t "'Tie wise at any age, baron; I'd swap even-handed all the lovesick guitars, and all i the languishing lutes of the troubadours, for one old forester's horn." "I'll tell you something, my guest," said the. baron, striking his tankard lightly against Letoriere's. "Do so, baron," replied the marquis, as he refilled his pipe. "W e11! before I had seen you, and know- ing thut you were coming to solicit me res- pecting your suit which unfortunately-" , Plague upon the suit!" cried Letoriere. ", the first that speaks of it this evening shall be condemned to drink a pint of water 1" ,' Agreed, marquis -Well, before I had seen you, I fancied I would as soon have leaped into the deepest bramble-hole, as to receive you at my board; to be candid with you, I dreaded your arrival. I thought you a fop, a jackanapes." ",Thank you! baron. Well, then, I thought you an Alcindor, a Cytherean shep- herd.' "Now, although I knew nothing of you till this evening," continued the baron, I will say, and that candidly, that when xou have taken leave of the poor manor of H-en. ferester, I shall have lost the best compan. ion in the world for enlivening a long win- ter's evening at the chimney comer.' , ,' And frf a rough day's chase in the deep forest. Whip me the pitiful coxcomb who prefers the danglingf flirtations of the ball- room to the bottle, the pipe and the chase! If yo are melined to prove to me that your hounds are as good as they are, handsoW t, baron, you'll see that I a m worthy fthy er . "There's my hand for it, my guest' t!o morrow at break of day, we start for the chase." ,L So be it, baron ;-We'l talk about the lawsuit the day after, and not till then--v pint of water still for him who mentions it!" '- " travo, my guest! but t begin to be late. If you are tired, old Selbitz shall light you to your chamber, or rather barn furMished with a sorry bed--but it's all I can offer you -mine is still worse-." * - "Nay now! no ceremony, baron; if that puts you to any inconvenience, I'll take one of my boots for a bolster, you can letme have a bundle of straw,' and I'll take a charming night's rest before these coals, which will burn till-morning. I have passed many a night so ina coal- burner's hut," said the chatelain with a sigh of regret, when I've been hunting in the Black Forest; but at all events, my guest, bad as your bed is, it will be better than the threshing floor of this room." - "Adieu, then, till morning, mine host; I shall sound the I reviellee' mvself," said the marquis, "but in the mean time I'll give you the ' good night.'"And taking the chate. lain's horn from the wall, he blew so per- feet a " tantara," and gave it so much ot the strength and clearness of tone peculiar to the sons of the chase, that the enraptured baron exclaimed: "For thirty years 1 have not heard such a blast as that." e ' That is simply because you cannot so well hear yourseli baron; your. horn is too nicely in tune, to admit of a doubt as to your being an adept in that noble craft. So good night! and be sure not to dream of water, sour wine, or empty bottles." I "Good night, marquis d The baron called Selbitz, ordered him to a shew his guest into the rat chamber, which e was such as we have described it, with the o exception of a good fire that now blazedwith. 1h in it. )u Letoriere, fatigued with the unusual exer. tions of the day, soon fell into a sound sleep, I and the chate ain followed his example, af p- ter having repeated several times to Selbitz and Erhard, who were receiving his orders u for the morning, that it was a pity the young I marquis was a Frenchman, as he really d )u served and ought to have been a native e n. Germany. ionX page: 50-51[View Page 50-51] CHAPTER XI. THE CONFIDANT. THE baron was no sooner awake on the following morning, than Selbitz came to in- form him that the marquis had already start- ed for the woods with Erhard Truehes, and had requested the major-domo to make his apologies to the chatelain for so doing. "Who could have expected fromn the mar- quis's representation here, to find him so staunch a hunter ind drinker, Selbitz! For do you know he was a full match for me at -table last night, and that we drained our tankards merrily and to the dregs?" said the chatelain. "Yes, my lord, and he made his way to the rat chamber with as steady a step as if fhe had drunk only buttermilk at supper." "Come, come," said the baron, as he re- ceived from his major-domo's hands all the necessary equipments for the chase; " come, Selbitz, you must confess the marquis is a good and worthy gentleman; and so gav too, that he gladdens thevery heart! What merry tales he told us! I wish le would stay a few days longer at the chateau; for on my soul he is an agreeable companion. Although there is a difference of more than twenty years in our ages, it seems as if we had been intimate for a long, long time ; in fact, were it not that he is but a one day's acquaintance, I should say-and yet I can- not tell why, Selbitz,--I should say, that I feel a friendship for him; long life to the frank and free, say I; there's nothing like it!" Having hastily despatched a slice of cold venison, a bowl of beer-sops, and a quart of Rhenish wine, the baron mounted his horse, and was soon at the place of meeting agreed upon with Erhard Truches, which was a cross way in the forest. He there found his whipper-in, the dog. keeper and his pack. ] Erhard Truches looked sad and absorbed in his own reflections; the baron, surprised 1 at not meeting Letoriere at the place of ren- 1 dezvous, inquired of Erhard where he was. 1 After a short silence the latter replied with ( a look of fear and uneasiness: , Is my lord I quite sure that he knows his guest?" t " What do you mean, Erhard?" cried the t baron. ', Where is the marquis? Did he not start with you this morninag to beat the co- vert?" 1 "Yes, my lord; that's why I ask you whether you are sure of him.-The fact is, t iny lord, that jest of mine about the grace v before supper will bring me bad luck!" t] "Nay, then, will you explain yourself " s "I'll tell you all, my lord;" and Erhard Ad added in a low voice, and trembling as he n ,spoke, "I am sadly afraid tha lie whom you call your guest is the being who appears sometimes by moonlight, in solitary crosr- ways of the forest, and offers to desperate hunters three bullets--one of gold, another of silvers and a third of lead-but all as the e price of their souls!" L. "So, now, you take my guest to be tlu, t demon-hunter!" cried the baron, contellptu d pusly shrugging his shoulders. "Come, s come! your morning cup has muddled youJ pate, old Erhard!" The whipper-in shook his head. "4x- )plain to me, then, my lord, how it happens r that your guest, as you call him, how one i that never entered this forest before, shoula Iknow it as well as I do!" I "How would you have me explain that?" said the astonished baron. "I set out with him at day-break." "Master Erhard," said he, "if you lend me a blood-hound we'll divide our' beat in the forest. I'll scour the inclosures of the Priory, the Hermit's Chapel, the Blasted Pine, and the Black Mere"-- "He told you that?" interrupted the ba- ron, with amazement. "Just as I tell it to you, my lord, and he added: "I fullS expect to start a ' ten- horn,' for the covert round the Hermit'a Chapel is noted for the stag. Do you, for vour part, Master Erhard, try to turn up a boar. In the thickets of Henrich's, which are so full of brambles, there are always some to be found. By this means the baron will have his choice of stag or boar." "But, Monsieur le Marquis," said 1, quite thunderstruck at all this, you know our forest well, it seems--have you often hunt- ed here?" "Never," said he, "but I know it as well as you. Come! good luck to you, Master Erhard;" he added, and at that he drove into the woods, taking with him poor Mouk, our best blood-hound, who will per- haps be changed into a lynx, or a beast with seven legs, by some diabolical witchcraft of his." The baron was by no means supersti- tious, but he was completely puzzled by the narration of his whipper-in, whom he knew to be too grave and respectful to jest or trifle with him. Nevertheless he could not admit that the marquis possessed the topographical knowledge ascribed to him by Erhard. "And what have you roused, Erhard?" "Your supposed guest has spoiled my luck--I have found nothing, my lord." " What, nothing I Why this is the first time for years that you have scoured the woods, to no purpose! And to-day, too, that we are to hunt in company with a stranger!" :a* " The evil spirit can go where men can nor, my lord," remarked Erhard, gravely. "ie that you call your guest has only to blow his horn, and all the beasts in the fo- rest will :ome to him just as the bird falls into the mnoutlh of the serpent." i Go to the d-- , you old dotard!" sried the chatelain, impatiently. "I shall not have far to go for that, my lord," growled Erhard, in a low voice, and poiting to Letoriere, who just then darted from a thicket, with old Mouk in leash. 1"Vivat, baron!" cried he, "if you have a mind you may run a ten-horn, and follow my clue from the chapel haunt. From the size of his tracks,. I'd bet that he is one of those large stags with white forehead arid legs; the French king has some like him in his domain of Chambord; I should know their foot amongst a thousand. They are noble-bodied fellows!" "You are in the luck of it, marquis," said the baron, " but you are a conjurer." "Indeed I am no such thing, baron; but your blood-hound is not far from it. 'Tis to him I ogwe my stag. You yourself, brave Erhard," lie added, turning to the whipper- in, "would have done as I have, with Mouk at the end of your leash. But come! baron, to horse, to horse! 'Tis a full league from here to the spot I have marked, and Noveinber days are short. Here! take your hound, Erhard,"' and with these words he handed a louis to the old hunter. The latter, however, as soon as he found the eyes of tlme marquis turned-from him, ihrcw down the piece of money as if it had been red hot, and buried it with the heel of his boot unider some dry leaves. "4 No devil's coin for me," said he to him- self; "it' I had put you in my pocket, in less thanr a quarter of' an hour I should have found a red bat or a black toad in it in- stead of a gold piece." The whipper-in then took hold of the leash, with as much precaution as if the marquis had had the leprosy, and cast an uneasy look0 at his favourite dog, which he considered as bewitched forever afterwards. Having drawn his thick boots over a pair of buckskin gaiters, the marquis mounted old Elph, and the baron remarked with fresh pleasure that his guest was an expert Ohorseman. "Baron," cried Letoriere, upon reaching an inclosure in the forest, " here is my clue --uncouple the h]ounds, and I'll go into the thicket wTith three or four of the best of them for the attack." "One moment," said the baron, seriously, "you pass fir a sorcerer in the eyes of Er- hard Truches; he'll hunt awkwardly if he takes vou for the demon, for he'll think more of his soul than of the stag." "How,!-Explain yourself, baron. "Come hither,. Erhard," said the chate- lain. The hunter stepped fcl vard, with a rest- less and timid air. "Did you not tell me," continued the chatelain, ",that you could not conceive how my guest, who has never been in this forest before, should know it so well! How he should know that the Chapel Close is the best haunt for stags, and that relays would be wanted at the White Cross and on the skirt of the Priory Plain!" "It's the truth," said Erhard, mysteri- ously. "No man could know whether"- 1"And hang me if I can see into it either," interrupted the baron. Shrugging his shoulders, with a smile, the marquis drew from his pocket a small leather case, and walking up to Erhard, "Here! old boar," said he, "'here is my conjuring-book." The hunter started back, with a look of horror. Letoriere drew from -its case and spread open upon his saddle-bow a forest chait, published expressly as an imperial hunter's guide, and on which the inclosures, roads, by-paths, haunts, and tracks of game were minutely delineated. 4"The imperial hunting-chart!" exclaimed the baron. I ought to have thought as much -here's the mystery cleared up. 3But a man must be clear-sighted indeed, and well ex- perienced in the chase, to make sudh use of it. Ah! marquis, marquis, there is not your match in Europe. To start a stag the first time one beats a forest is the greatest feat I have seen! Do you understand now, old blockhead?" he said to the hunter; "you ought to go down on your knees to the mar- quis, who is the leader of us all!" "Yes, yes, my lord, I understand: and heaven be praised that I do! for a sad mis. hap might have followed." At these words Erhard took his screw-wire and unloaded his carbine. "What are you doing there, Erhard?" asked the baron. The huntsman showed him a black ball, on which a cross had been scratched, and said to him: "At the first enclosure we came to- I should at ali events have lodged this charnm- ed bullet in the body of M. le marquis, sup- posing him to be the demon-old Ralph says there's nothing like it for setting a spell." ",Villain!" cried the baron. ," He is right," interposed Letoriere witn perfect composure; "but you forget, Er- hard, that in order to make the charm cor-; plete, you ought to have had three pieces of gold in your left pocket, to keep the devil out of your purse," and the marquis threw three louis to Erhard, who, this time, did not think proper to bury the monc? under the leaves. The roused stag was soon afoot. It is needless to describe the varioin. incf- dents of this day's hunt, in the couxrse of page: 52-53[View Page 52-53] which Letoriere displayed consummate sportsmanship; the animal was taken, and the marquis, the first in at the death, plun- ged his knife ifito the stag, which furiously resisted the hounds. The party reached the chateau at night fall. Selbitz had, as on the previous day, prepared the bacon, sauer-kraut, and venison, and filled to the brim the large, the middle-si- zed, and the small tankards. As before, the baron and marquis did ho- nour to the repast; as before, they charged their pipes after supper, and drew up to the fireside, whilst the major-domo was occupi- ed with his household functions. Although the baron felt himself won over by the jovial spirit and resolute frankness of the marquis, he was a little chagrined at finding in so young a man, a successful ri- ral both in-the chase and at the board. Letoriere, too sagacious not to read the baron's feelings, was ev n then preparing a signal triumphl for him. The chatelain, who really felt an interest for his guesi, attempted again to introduce the subject of the lawsuit. "Confound the lawsuit!" exclaimed the marquis. "4 That's my motto.-If I lose my cause I shall have gained a jolly com- panion. Your hand, baron!--I only wish I had twenty suits to lose on such terms! But my tankard is dry.-Hallo, Selbitz! hallo-old vulcan!--The kirsch-wasser evaporated before my thirst like the moun- gain dew before the sun." 1"Poor lad! he is trying to drown care," thought the chatelain; "I ought not to let hint drink alone;" and the. baron replenish- ed his cup. "1 Baron, a song!" said Letoriere, much excited. "Do you know the ' Retreat!' They say, the air and words were both com- posed by one of your old huntsmen." "Do you sing it, marquis, and I'll tell you whether I know it." Letoriere, after having again drained the tankard, gave a loud hen! by way of pre- lude, and commenced the following: "Hark to the joyous note, That tells the stag's at bay I Foresters, hallali! A ten-horn dies this day." "Come, baron.--Chorus!-could any. thing be more apropos after our day's sport?" "With all my heart and soul, marquis. I did not know this chaunt; but, by Heaven! 'tis worthy of Mozart?" and the baron took his part in the chorus with a voice that made the windows tremble. 4Listen to the minor, baron. 'Tis as sweet and melancholy as the dving notes of a distant trumpet on a fine night." Le- toriere resumed, in a less sonorous tone ' Bright Hesper's lamp is hun, And daylight shuns the west, The hallali has rung, All nature sinks to rest! Bestir ye merry men, In haste collect the pack, To horse! my whippersnm, Sound ye! and be not slack For the mtoo0's pale light Will soon invite The demon hunter's shot! To the manor, then, My merry men, 'Twere best we met him not! Towards the conclusion of his song. Le toriere's voice faltered, and he gave to it an almost melancholy expression; his features lost their look of thoughtless gayety, and he supported his now clouded. brow upon his hand. Selbitz, who was standing at that moment behind his master's chair, said to 1him, in a low voice, as he pointed to the marquis: "T When the flower is too wet it droops upon the stem; so it is with drinking: to. day is not always the child of yesterday, Come, come! my lord, you will be king o the feast to-night. See! the Frenchman is leaning his head upon his left hand ; 'twas always thus that the wuind up of the forester general of Hasbruk commenced; but he, it must be confessed, broke down the first day." The baron smiled, with an air of proud satisfaction, and answered in a corresponding tone of voice: "'Tis no wonder, Selbitz! he is so young;-but for all that he's a sturdy coln- batant. Yesterday I found nly match; but two days in succession have been too much for him. Except myself I know of no one to equal him." "Use him up, then, my lord--use him up, for the honour of old Germany," said the traitorous major-domo. "V Well, marquis!" said the chatelain, aloud, "is your song finished already?- Shall we not drink to your glorio'us 4A-, chase? "Drink," said the marcuis, r ls;ng hit tankard, with seeming difficulty, to hi- l]sa After which he repeated, in a low and dole ful tone the finishing lines of his song For the moon's pale light Will soon invite The demon-hunter's shot! To the manor, then, My merry men, Twere best we met him not! "There's sorrow in his wine," said *hb baron to his major-domo. "He reminds mw of count Ralph, who, you know, my lord would always break into a funeral dirre ( ver his tenth bottle," replied. Selbitz, softly. "Come, marquis, let's drink to the fit boar we kill!" said the chatelain, with a y view to give the, finishing-stroke to-Leto- rirep's seemingly prostrate reason. h , Drink," said the marquis, who began to ne show signs of intoxication, by assuming a he tmne that was by starts slow and brisk, sad and merry. "T'he chase, baron, is good- pi wine, too :-it makes one giddy,--angry,- m no tim e to think,--and then one looks gay,- b but at heart one is-But, bah!-stay, ba. e ron,-I must make a confidant of you. k -"Oh, oh ! now for his secrets," said the h major dcao, " that's just like the minister n of Blumenthall; but the reverend hardly p ever began with them till he had his eighth tankard filled. Do you recollect, my lord, ce the tale he told us about the buxom miller's wife of Primrose Valley?" t Hold vour tongue, and listen," said the chatelain, who added aloud: "Come, speak b out, marquis-let's drink; here's to your b courtesy in making me your confidant." I Well, then! baron, would you believe b it -this law suit turns my head--" i "Indeed, marquis!" said he aloud. Then t aside to Selbitz: "I was sure of it; the poor youth wanted to drown sorrow." , It's as true as that my cup is empty-I would not tell yuu so, baron, but you are my friend-I ought to confide all to you- know, then, that I have paid a visit to my * judges." , Ah, bah!" said the baron, pleased at his guest's communicative humour, and anxious to ferret out the secret of his pro- ceedings,-" have you, indeed?" "-Yes, baron; the name of the first is- Spectre-" "Sphex, you mean to say, marquis!" "Sphex or Spectre, 'tis all one. But, zounds! baron, let me laugh-although he is one of your faternity; but that is not my fault, I think as much of a graduate in us-a- um as a broken tumbler or a foundered horse." ,You are right, marquis, you no more like the smell of old books than I do." "Well! the old Spectre, (I like better to call him Spectre, because that describes his face as well as name), had the insolence to ask me, after two minutes' conversation, whether I spake Latin." , You, marquis, you speak Latin!" said the baron, fully appreciating Letorieres in- dignation. "Where in-the world had he left his spectacles? Do you look like a man that speaks Latin? Was there ever such an impudent old scoundrel! What the plague could he have taken you for?" , You are aware, baron, that it was im- possible to take such an insult coolly, even from one's own judge-Ah, indeed,' said , " do I look as if I fed on old books? or like an ink-sucker? a pedant? Talk Latin, in- deed! If I had not come here to ask you for y alr support ill my law-suit, I'd shew you how I treat them that say I t;lk latin ' , A famous hit, that , my guest LIwould have given a hundred florins to have wit- nessed the scene," said the baron, laughing heartily '4The doctor then told me plump and plainly tha he had nothing to say, abou my suit, but that I might consider it as lost, because my character was known-the mis.' erable old spectre! my character was known!! This was too much for me; he had already asked if I spoke Latin. I could- no longer contain myself, and frankly pro- posed crossing swords with him." "A sword fight with Sphex!" replied the chatelain, now convulsed with laughter, "I'd have given the world to see how the old baboon looked at this; what did lie say?' "Nothing at all; but raised his hands to heaven, and disappeared as if by magic be- hind a pile of big books. I then withdrew, pretty well assured that the doctor would bear me malice; and yet I don't know why, for surely one may exchange a thrust or two, and still be good friends afterwards. , What uncommon simplicity!" said the chatelain aside, " he must have a strangely mistaken idea of his own manners and be- haviour:' Letoire/re resumed. -"I had next to visit counsellor Flacsinfingen; I did so, and when I asked to see him, they put me cheek by owl, with an old witch in black, who migh well have passed for the old bookworm a mate, she looked so thin and marrowless. She held a bible in her hand, into the bar- gain. "My business is with the counsel- lor and not with his wife," said I to the lackey. "I and the counsellor are one," re- plied the witch. ,' Tell me, sir, what you have to say to my husband." W hereupon, baron, as I am seldom at a loss for finesse, I hit upon a plan for send- ingt the wife to the right about, and bring- ing iorward the husband." ,' Let's hear it, marquis," said the chat- elain, and then added to himself, "If there )is any thing like finesse or cunning about it, s I'll drink cold water; he's rough and knotty ) as the oak, but open-grained as the willow , Well, this plan of yours, marquis . "Zounds, madame," said I, "What l d have ta say, is hardly fit for female ears; - 'tis a case to be argued in court with closed e doors." a "Tell it me, sir, neverthe]ess." r "Accordingly, baron, I began telling her mt ess-room anecdote that would have made a hussar blush." i- At this new farce the baron was taken with n another fit of mirth, and he exclaimed: "A d mess-room tale! and before the pious prude *e of Flacsinfingen! Whip me, if I would'nt g- give my bloodhound IMouk to have been )u present at this scene. What did she say? Mr "( She became as red as a crw fish, cally page: 54-55[View Page 54-55] n-d me an audacious fellow, and motioned me 1o the door." "If that is how you proceed with a view to interest your judges in your behalf; my guest, I congratulate yop." "And whbat the mischief should I have found to say to a pedant and an old prude? I could not unmake myself!" "To be sure not;"' again soliloquised the baron; the poor lad is lile me, he would be bothered!, indeed, to accustom himself to the jargon of a doctor, and the prate of an old woman." "I had then only one visit more to make, which was to you. I have done so; you are a fine fellow ; but J am airaid I annoy you with my private affairs; vet this suit if you knew---if'I should lose it---I try to look careless about it, but. indeed if it were --if I should lose it!" cried Letori':re with energy, "'twould be the death of me; I would pray to St. Cartouche to have pity on my soul." Aftcx this apparently unwise disclosure of his secrets, Letori ere seemed to be col- lecting his scattered ideas; he pressed his hand to his fiorellead, and gazed around him with a bewildered air. "Nay, nay, where in the world am I?- Is thalt you, baron? Come, come, your Rhe- j mish winel gets into the head, my host; I've been asleel, I think." And the mar- quis closed his heavvy-looking eyes as if' I spite of himself. ' "You have not slept yet, my guest, but I think you seem well inclined now-and your cup is fuiLl." "'lThen empty it for me, baron-for-- the law-suit--the stag--to-day--Ah!-con- fusion on the suit!-hurrah for the chase! Drink--your turn, baron!"And Letoriere I pretended to fiall asleep with his head onl I is arm. i "He refuses to drink--victory!" cried the 1 chatelain : and he immediately called Sel-. bitz and Erlhard as muc I for the purpose of t having witnesses of his triumph over the 1 Frenchman, as of ordering them to help him c to reach the ante-chamber. Letoriere, V whose hiead was quite as cool as the bar- t on's, accepted the proflfered assistance, as- s cended as it were mechanically the stair- case that led to his dormitorv, and fell hcea- r vily on his bed. c The narn fet sorely prl d. If he did svnmpathise deeply with Letoriere, espe- i ciallv since the latter aand given him reason ai to think that lihe could not survive the loss of n his s;,it, the good cha-elain had also made a li formal promise of his vote to the German st prince whose claims he considered to be n: better lfounded. In order to reconcile his de- b( sire of ubliging the marquis, with his already hi plighted word, the baron had recourse to a b singular compromise: "From what ] know rd the ch'l racters of Sphex and Flacsinfingen, in :d setting aside their favourable dispositions towards the princes," said he to himself, w ," they will will doubtless both vote against y this poor Letoriere, the more so, since his apostrophe to the pedant and the counsellor's we wife. Moreover, their hostility ensure? -he ? triumph of the party opposed to the marqus, Now, provided that party gain, what matters e it whether tlrey do so by a unanimous vote, e or by a majority of two to one? All that o I wish is, to be able without violence to my n convictions, to send home the poor marquis with kind words, and a proof of my friend- j shi; for I shall never have the heart to sav 1 I No! to so good and jovial a companion." y Having adopted this resolution, the chate- , lain impatiently awaited lis guest's waking. time, and then ilormled him that having ? passed the nighlt in rcflecting upon his suit, I his conviction had become somewhat modi- fied, and that he gave himr his word to vote for fim. After having heartily thanked the baron, Letoriebre set out again fur Vienna. Notwith- standing his assertions to the chatelain, he had as vet seen neither the counsellor Sphcx, nor the wife of counsellor Flacsinfin- sen. CHAPTER XTI. DOCTOR srIE:x. DocTor Aloysius Sp)hex occupied a retir- ed dwelling, situated at the farther end ol one of the suburbs of Vienna. Its windows were secured by iron-bars, whilst thickl p1lates of the same metal, and a strong lock increased the strength and security of the low and narrow door. The courage of tht visitor was taxed by having to pass between two enormous mountain-dogs, chained be- hind the door, in order to reach a small inner court-yard which led to the kitchen, ir which cold and naked apartment sat the doc. tor's housekeeper, leaning over a couple oN smouldering logs. The doctor himself occupied a large libra ry on the first floor, du-ty, littered and en- cumbered withl folio volumes, which seemed not to have been opened for a long time. A lofty window, with small panes set in lead, and shaded by a piece of old tapestry, ad mitted into this retreat a dim and doubtfuJ light. A vast chimney, flanked by twisted stone columns, and traversed by a sculptured mantel-shelf, had been transfbrmed into i book-case; as the doctor never allowed himself a fire, for fear of destroying his books. In order to protect himself from the pinch- ing cold of autumn, the counsellor contrived to escon:e himself in an old sedan-chair, which'he had had placed in the midst of his study; by shutting the glasses of' this, he found himself pretty comfortably seated both for reading and writing. Dactor Sphex was a short, mreagre, deli- cate old man; and his shaggy brows, pierc- Iig eyes, sarcastic smile, protruding under- jw, and wrinkled cheeks, gave him a re- 'markably sardonic and malignant cast of tountenance. His old clock, which was ornamented, with curious inlaid work, had no sooner struck the hour of two, when the counsellor started from his sedan .chair with the precision of an automaton. He had on an old black coat, almost thread- bare, over which he drew a sort of grey Wrapper, put on a broad orimmed hat over his red wig, for the better security of which he made use of a checkered handkerchief, folded cornerwise, and tied under his chin. Having placed his spectacles in one pock- et, and in the other a precious Elzevir, a little volume bound in black shagreen, doc- tor Sphex took his cane and prepared for a walk. But as if a sudden thought had struck him, he abruptly returned, crossed the library, and entered another room, carefully shutting. the door after him. Then, approaching the wainscot, he touched a spring, moved a sliding door, and the opening thus left in the wall disclosed to view a small iron chest. The old man's eyes sparkled )with pleas- ure; he took a key Which hung from his watch chain, opened the chest, and took from it, with an air of pious reverence, a flat and oblong cedar case. It contained a manuscript on vellum in 4to. The style of writing was that used in the tenth century: the titles and capital letters were gilded and ornamented with vignettes. Having contemplated this manuscript with the eager, restless, and untiring look which the miser casts upon his treasure, Doctor Sphex restored the case to its place, shut the chest, and adjusted, on the inside of the secret door, a spring which was attached to 'he lock of a loaded pistol. This invisible weapon was destined to punish the audacity of him who should presume to lay an im- prudent and sacrilegious hand on this pre- etous monument of calligraphy. Being thus reassured of the existence and preservation of his dearest treasure, the counsellor stepped out to take his usual walk. On passing the kitchen he observed, in a surlv tone, to his housekeeper: "If the French marquis returns to the charge, whether I may be at home or not, tell him I am absent." He-came again, this morning, sir." "Very well, very well: what need have I to see this coxcomb-thhs fop, who 'non pudet ad morem discincti VIivere Natte.*' " The old man proceeded towards a little valley situated at the back of the city' and called the Linden Hollow. As there are certain fastidious and exdu: sive amateurs who admit the excellence of but one school of painting, and one master of that school, so Doctor Sphex had a pas- sion for the satires of Persius, and placed this woxrk at .the head of all the Latin po. ems of antiquity. He not only possessed all the editions of this work, from the rarest 'princeps of Brescia' (1470) down to the most moderni that of Horms (1770); but he had purchased at a very high price the manuscript in ques- tion, which he regarded as an inestimable treasure. The counsellor had translated, conmmenta- ted, and was still daily commentating upon his favourite Persius; he had so entered in- to the spirit of this author that at length their thoughts became perfectly assimilated, and he continually applied to himself an"' others quotations borrowed from this stoic and satirist. His admiration bordered upon monomania. In like manner as on a blade of grass or in a drop of water the micro- scope reveals to the eye of the observer un- known worlds, so the doctor's exalted ima- gination found in the simplest words of he poet the profoundest ideas. He was advancing slowly towards the limit of his daily walk, which was a ahfl- en tree that served him for a seat, when lhe heard some onc speaking-in a loud voice. Vexed at fintding his place taken, the doctor halted behind a holly-bush. But what were his sensations, when lie heard a clear and melodious voice reciting, with the most expressive and prosodaical accentuation, these verses from the first sa- tire of Persius: "O curas hominum! O quantum est in re- bus inane!"It The counsellor held his breath, listened, and when the voice had ceased, lie stepped briskly forward to see the stranger, who ap- peared to have so true a relish for his fa- vourite author. He saw a young, man very -negligently dressed; some rolls of paper were protrud- ing from his old blackl coat T)ocket; and he held upon his knees a voluminous quarto.. The whole exterior of Letoriere (for it was no other than this modern Proteus), gave the exact idea of a poor poet: the narrow and coarse linen cravat, the hat rusty with age, the pale and half starved countenance; in short, every thing was there to complete this second metamorphosis. * Who is not ashamed to live after the manner or the dissolute Natta. t, Oh! the cares of human nature! Oh what Tvai ity is in the affairs of life! page: 56-57[View Page 56-57] At sight of the old counsellor, the mar- qtus rose respectfully. "Young man; is not our Persius the prince of poets?" exclaimed Sphex, striking with open hand the Elzevir which he had just taken from his pocket, and approaching Letoriere with an animated countenance. "' Sir," said the marquis, assuming a look of surprise, "I am not aware---" "I was behind the holly yonder; I heard you recite the commencement of the first satire of our poet, our deity! For, by Her- uleos! yPung man, I .ee that you appreci- ate him as I do. No Tuscan ever pronoun- ced with more purity than yourself the in- imitable poetry of our common hero; and I ,frankly confess that my old heart is gladden- ed at this happy and unlooked for meeting. "Hunc, Macrinc, diem numera meliore la- pillo,'* cried the old man, and cordially ex- tended hs hand to his new acquaintance, af- ter making this quotation ftom, his treasur- ed poet. "If it were not too presumptuous, Sir," replied Letoriere with humanity, I would falin reply: , Non equidenm hoc dubites, amborumrn fee- dere certo consentire dies, et ab unc sidere duci."t "Bravo! my young friend ; no reply could possibly have been more sensible or appropriate. You must beas well acquaint- ed with my Persius, my inimitable stoic, as myself; but that which you possess, and I alas! do not, is that fine harmonious pro- nunciation which really enchants me! I would therefore," added the counsellor, hes- itatingly,-" if I might presume so iar--I would ask you, in the name of the object of our mutual admliration, to repeat to me the first verse of the third satire." "With pleasure, Sir," said Letoriere, smiling. "' Hfmc cedo, ut admoveam templis ct farre litablo." "Better and better," exclaimed the doctor, clapping his hands. But in reference to this quotation, what meaning do you assign to far?"And the scholar cast an almost anx- ious glance at the young man, whose know- ledge he designed to test by this enquiry. I In my humrle opinion," answered the mar- quisreadily, 'far signifies any fiarinaceous grain, or of which flour is made, and in op- position to the opinions of Casaubon and Sca- liger, I think the term applies not to bread, but to wheat, barley-any kind of grain, in dhort; fir you know, Sir; the far :w(as, to- gether with salt, the commonest of offerings; * Make a record of this day, Macrinus, with a peb- ble of good onmen. t Indeed, you cannot doubt, th ththere is a ct r- tain mutual agreement in ,our nativities, and tnat we are guided by one congtellation. :: Let me brin this offering to the temples, and propitiatc the gods wiith meal. it is this which Virgil designates by the words: fruges salse--salsa mola--it is then by way of humble homage to our common divinity, Sir, that I will recite the verses that please you." Letoriere then generously repeated th, whole satire, giving to his melodious voice an expression which was alternately soarch, so caustic, and then again so energetic, that the enraptured Sphex exclaimed: "Why, he lets nothing escape him! not a shade of meaning! not a single intention of the poet! He does not stop at the sur- face of the words! he scrutinizes, penetrates looks through them; searches under the bright envelope, and makes apparent the deep and hidden sense.-Young man- youllg man-," added Sphex, rsing, "I do you homage! for to read thus is to trans- late! And to translate thus, you must be so deeply imbued with the! spirit of the original, as almost to substitute the authhor's indivi- duality for your own! iMoreover, I declare that a man so fortunate, so richly endowed as to be identified with Persius, deserves in mv opinion, as much respect as Persius him- self; I regard this phenonlenon of assimila- tion as a kind of intellectual affinity! Give me your hand then, young nan.-- Were it not for the disparity 'of a'ge between us, I should say, that we were brothers in intelli- gence, the offspring of one fathcr!" Doctor Sphex spoke with such vehe. mrence and entthusiasm, that Letoriere look- ed at hinm with profound astonishment, fear, ful of having been mnistaken in the person. and of being in the presence of a nmonoma- niac, instead of the aulic counsellor he had looked for. The scholar, misinterpreting his silence, said to the marquis: t See, now, I am act- ing like an old dotard--I am treating you as a brother, without even thinkiing to ask vou what learned Latinist I have the honour ot addressing." "\AVy name is Letoriere, Sir," said the marquis with a bow. "Letoriere!" ejaculated Sphex, drawing himself up to his full height; are you by chance related to the marquis of that name? ' "I am the Marquis de Letoriere, Sir." "You?-you?--you?" said the doctor, in three different tones, rising chromatically, "Come, now, that is impossible. The mar quis de Letoribre is, as the world says; as silly as a carp, as volatile as a butterfly; one of those retailers of stale and senseless jests, incapable of comprehending a word of Latin; and who, if he heard the name of Persius, would think it had reference to Persian silk," added the counselior, not a little proud of this poor plav upon words. "I am sorry to find that I have beet' so scandalously nmisrepresented to v0p Sir," said the marquis. "But now in truth and earnestness, can you be AM. de Letoriere V" "I beg leave to. assure you of it, sir." , And are you here on account of a law- suit? Answer, sir; answer, and do not de- ceive me." "Sir!" said the marquis, as if shocked at the indelicacy of the counsellor-^ "Excuse my abruptness, sir-if I appear so w ell informed of what concerns you, it is ,.because --" and the doctor paused; "it is because I have some relations in the Aulic council, and I am acquainted with all that takeswplace there.' "Well ' it is true, sir; I am unfortunately here on account o' a suit at law," -said -Letoriere, with a sigh. "But, my young friend, allow me to tell you that you appear very indifferent about your affairs.-Yost come here to recite ver- ses to the zephyrs;--admirable, verses, it is true: but, between ourselves, that is not the way to gain your suit. Believe me, young man, if Justice is blind, she is not deaf,-and there are a thousand means of propitiating your judges." '"Alas, sir! I have seen the judges; and it is because I have seen them that I cher- ish so little hope. In my vexation, I have recourse to literature for edification and comfort; I resort especially to my favour- ite poet. I was seeking for strength to struggle with my unhappy lot, by reading his verses. Do not you think, sir, that his noble, sonorous, and energetic strains are calculated, to raise the drooping soul, even as the martial tones of the clarion reani- mate the dispiritedl soldiery 2" uThle scholar was deeply moved by the simple and yet dignified tone which Leto- riere implarted to hlls words. St Pardoll," said he, a"the perhaps uncall- ,ed-for interest which an old man feels in what conlcerns you.; but, do you not exag- gerate thet unfvourable senitimnents of your udgres a! iive you indeedr exerted youself to the utmlost to' win them to Sour cause, before you become thus despondill , 2' The judges I ilae seen, sir, could scarcely feel any sympathy for me, and I ought nt to have reckoned upon it." "Why so, my young friend?"' "Our poet furnishes an answer, sir: 'Velle snum cuiquc est, ncc voto vivitur uno. Hic satur irriquo mavult turgescere somno. Hiec campo indulget.- "* "I understand, - I understand," said the counsellor, smiling at the just and pointed. application of these verses; "I know it is * Every one has his peculiar taste, minds are various, Ome likes to fatten in luxl'rious sleep; another de- lights in athletic exercises. said throughout Vienna, that counsellor Flacsinfingen might well have figured:at the gluttonous feast of Trimaleyon, and that the brutal chatelam of Henferester might have contended with savage beasts in the Circus at Rome! In short, what should you, a poor scholar, poet, nightingales --what should you have in common with that fat-patiched Flacsinfingen, who thinks of nothing but his table! What could you have found to say to him, if not this: Quae tibi summa boni ost? Uncta vixissse patella. Semper "'* "And so too with this gladiator, this bru- tal Henferester, whose frame of giant bulk I never see without thinling of these verses of our divine poet:, Hic aliquis do gente hircosa centurnonum Dicat: Quod satis est sapio mihi ; non ego curo Esse quod Arcesilas erumnosique Solonis."t "Well! Sir, you will confess," replied the marquis, smiling, " that having no other than such words as you have quoted, to ad- dress to my judges, I could scarcely hope to influence them in my behalf. Alas! I am neither a forest-hunter; nor an epicure; othlerwise I might perhaps have awakened some sympathy " "But all the counsellors are not gladia- tors or wife-ridden gluttons, my young friend- At me nocturnisjavat impallescere chartis lt I Ah! sir,--my misfortune is not to. have found amongst my judges men who resem- ble vou." "'Aid vet I have heard a certain doctor Sphex spoken of," said the counsellor, with- a penetrating look at the marquis, "' as a good natured old nlan, and not altogethe: unlearned,-who presides at court in the morning, and devotes the evening to his fa- vourite studies-- His mane edictum, post prandia Callirhoe do!"l1 "I have called several times at the house of counsellor Sphex, sir, but have not been admitted," said Letoriere; " and if what you tell ms( is true, I regret it doubly; for he is perhaps the only one of my judges in whom I could excite any sentiments of be- * ( What do you consider the sovereign good of life?'- 'To have always a well filled dish.'- t But I hear some old goat of a centurion an. swer; "I am as wise as 1 want to he! I do not care to become an Arcesilas or a crabbed Solon.' : But it is my delight to grew pale with nightly study. : I pass sentence in the morning and devote to e evening to the Muses. page: 58-59[View Page 58-59] nevolence, or whos3e favour I might claim on the score of our cougenmality of tastes." "4 By Hlercules! young nmant, do not doubt it; your case is not desperate,-- know this oddity, this 8phex: if you will accompany nme, I will do myself the pleasure of reconm- mending and even introducing you to him." "How shall I ever be able to acknow- ledge or deserve so incstimagle a service." "Young man, such persons as you and mounsellor Sphex are rare; and eaclh party must gain by the interview I am about to procure you. Give me your arm and let us walk on." The old man took a sly pleasure in the surprise which he was preparing for Leto- riere: the latter continued to dilate upon the capricious frieaks of 'ortune, until they reachel the house of the counsellor, who then threw off his incognito. To old Cathferine's great surprise, the Doctor ordered her to lay the table for two: for the marquis could not decline partaking of the repast which the frugal counsellor thus described: .... Positum est algente catino Durum ollus, et populi cribro decussa farina ;* and which fully realised the description he thus gave of it. A ihermit would scarcely have been satisfied witl the fare that was served up in the library by old Catherine. The counsellor, more and more enchanted wtil his guest, read to him his translations and comrnentariqs; and lastly, as a favour on no account to'be expected from him, and as the highest possible mark of confidence, he showed him the precious manuscript! "Do you and your housekeeper occupy this house alone ";' asked the marquis, sud- denly and v ith a gloolmy look ; at the same time he grasped the manuscrip-t as tightly as if he intended to retain possession of it. "Can it be that his enthusiasm for Per- sius would lead him to steal my MS. and assassinate me?" the counsellor asked him- self, with secret dread, imixed, however, with admiration; and approaching the spring door which concealed the pistol, he prepared for a desperate resistance. But the marquis, replacnll the manluscript in its owner's hands, exclaimed with an almost frantic look :--( For the love of Heaven! sir, hide it! hide it! Pardon hme, madman that I am!" Whereupon, he rushed pre- cipitately from the room o with his hlands over his eyes. "What ails you, young man?" asked the schqlar, feelinrgly. "Alas sir, pardon me!-At siht of that M. S. an infamous, a monstrous thought oc- curred to me,-in spite of the sacred claim of hospitality," A cold p'.ate of raw vegetables is served up, to. gether wiil oread of unAited flour. "You felt, then, a desire to deprive me of mry treasure?' ' Letorietre bowed down his head, with a look of confusion. "Give me your hand, my young friend. I understand-I understand you but too well," said the counsellor, sighing as he did so. "It is a signal honour that you have done to our author, and if you knew the history of that manuscript"-And after a short pause, lie added: "You would seo that I ought to excuse the terrible tempta- tion which you have been able to resist i UJnfortunately the counsellor's comnmuni cativeness ended here. The two friends passed the rest of the day in analysing most eruditely the deci- sions of Casaubon, Koeniit, and Ruperti, up- on their favourite poet. They discovered beauties in him lwhich had lain hidden from all editors. Lctoriere, by a lucky hit of memory, raised the admiration of Sphex to ecstacy, in pointing out to him that the passage in the third satire: '( Thle lessons of this porti- co of the sage on wlhich is described the de- feat of the Alede," referred to Zeno, the chief of the stoics. In a word, during this long and learned confab, Letori;:re, by means of the deep study which he had recently devoted to Per- sius, at the suggestion of Donmnique, and aided by a remarkably retentive memory and flexibility of mind, completely captiva- tedeDoctor Sphex. However, not a word had been spoken by either in reference to ilhe suit at law. The marquis was deterred from doing so by mo- tives of prudence, the counsellor by embar- rassment; for however well disposed he felt towards Letoriere, lie bitterly reflected that his. vote alone would not ensure the success of liis vouti a protege. "What a pity it is," cried the counsellor, "; that. vou leave KIenna so soon! We might otherwise spend long and delightful days in the ever-increasing admiration of our divi- nity, and might say with him: Unum opus et requiem pariter disponimus ambo, Atque vcrecunda laxamus seria inens-a.,!1 { I feel the privation as deeply as your self, M. He conscilier; but unfortunately our pleasures must. be sacrificed to our duties;" and LetoriL're rose. Struck by the marquis's reserve with re- gard to lis suit, the counsellor said, looking penetratingly at his guest: "But this lawsuit, we have forgotten it"- How could one think of pitiful seculal interests, sir, whilst speaking of the object of his adoration with a fellow-worshipper." * We would set to workl'together, and la. it aside together; and a modest repast should enIiven of serious mornings. 4' J-!em! hem!" muttered the do, tor, sha- king his head; then smiling sarcastically, he recited the following lines: eAenls bona fama, fides, hae clare et ut audiat hospes; 1Il14 ibi, introrsum, et sub lingua immurmurat: WOh' si ' ouilet patrui prTeclarum funus!"* "Yes- yes-" he says aloud: "Forget the lawsuiit,--and in his lheart he consigns to -the infernal regions the crabbed counsel- lor who gives him not a word of hope,- is not that your case now?" "I cannot help it, sir," said Letoriere, with a smile, and a ready quotation from the same book: ' {esse tenus propria vive v!f ( And you think you have gathered but all indifferent crop, eh?" cried the sclolar, laugtling at his guest's ready'wit. "Well! I'll undeceive you. It shall not be said that the voice of old Sphex did not protest, at any rate, against the decision of a porpoise ike Fiacsinlingen, or of' an old goat of a cen- turian, a brutal gladiator like Henfcrester. In nmy opinion, the equilibrium between you ani t'he German princes was so perfect that it wanted but a breath to weigh down the ba lance." I' S(.wis ctenim justum gemiina suspendere lance Ancipitis libria, .1 quoted the marquis: "Not doubtingl the ;udge's integrity, I never doubted the suc- cess of my cause, as far as h eis concerned." Enchanted at this friesh citation, the coun- sellor exclaimed: i "And yrou have done well, youn, man; if imy voice be unsupported, it will protest in a more striking manlner against a decision lwhich I shall regard as unjust if unfavoura- ble to you.' Farewell, then. The day after )to--norrow we pronounce upon your cause- n;may the gods be propitious to you! As for imyself, by Castor! I know what I have to do:"'-anl the actor ended the conference with this final citation: "' Ast vocat officium: trabe rupta, Bruttia saxa Prcntit amicus inops; remque amnem surdaque vota Condidit lonio!.'" * His wisdom, honour and virtuie are talked of aloud by the visitor; but at the same time he otlers j up this mental prayer for the sick : Oh! that a hand. i some hearse would come and take father-in-lawt! t We Inust try to live on the cross we make ! til'or you know how to hold with impartial hand the .,cales of justice. I tBut duty calls you. Your-poor friendl is wreck- ed upon the rocks of Lucania; his prayers were ul.. beard, and his wealth is at the bottom of the loni in sea. CHAPTER XIIIL COUNSELLOR FLACSINFINGEN. ON the day after Letoriere's interview with doctor Sphex, an extraordinary sensa, tion prevailed in the household of the aulic counsellor Flacsinfingen, It was about-eleven o'clock in the morn- ing, that Madame Miartha Flacsinfagen, a tall lady, of forty years of age, or there.- abouts, thin, pale, and solemn visaged, wearing a long brown dress, starched collar, and black velvet bequin, or nun's cap, was holding a conference. wilth her husband; tho counsellor. a very corpulent man, whose jovial face wore an habitual and. iusipid smile. Dressed in a morning gown, and with a nightcap secured to his head by a. yellow ribbon, the counsellor appeared to listen to his wife not without detference, but still rather impatiently. The lady held betw-een her long fingers, a note which she was reading for the second time, with profound attention, apparently weighing the import of each word. The note was thus expressed: "M. le marquis de Letoriere will do Wlin-, self' the honour of calling at the houise of madame la conscillere de leacshiflilgen, to-day, at noon, if she will condescend to receive h in." Having thus read it, she resumed: "' Call- ing at the house of Madame la conseillere, --what audacity!" t Nay, Martha," said the counsellor. with humilitv, "1 I cannot see what audacity there is in-" "You cannot see! 01h! to be sure, you are so penetrating!--Cannot see that such a letter from a voluptuary, a debauchee, a Nebuchadnezzar, like the tnirquis de Leto- ribre, is worse than insult?--Why;, it's a premeditation, L" as it were! a threat to be succeeded by insult!" "How so, Martha?" "(Have you then forgotten all they say about tlis abominable man, who leaves be- hind him weeping maidens, and guilty wives? Do you not know that he is a Fharaoh, who thinks to fascinate you by a glance of. his evil eye,--a licentious Tar- quin, who, the very first time he meets a feimiale, dares to addlress hier in the language of' intrigue? (' The fact is, he is one oi those brisk, gallants, whom husbands, flathers, and, mothers, consign to perdition, twenty times a day, he, lie, he!" replied the counsellor, chuckling. This untimely fit of mirth was severely punished by his lady, who pinched him Unt 'mercifilly, and exclaimed: "And you are wretch enough to laugh, when you have under your very eyea, a page: 60-61[View Page 60-61] proof that his reprobate intends to crown his diabolical triumphs by attacking the honour of your wife!" The counsellor in utter amazement clasp- ed his hands and gazed steadily at Iis wife. "Attack your "honour, Martha!, Ehl merciful Heaven! who thinks of doing that!" ,( Oh! what a man! what a man! Lis- ten, men! And she read the letter for the third time: "M. de Letoriere will do him- self the honour of calling at the house of Madam,; la conseillere, &c." pDo you understand it now? at the house of Madame-Is it clear to you yet? It is not upon the counsellor, that he wishes to call, but the counsellor's lady. 'Tis therefore a kind of assignation that he makes with me; he does not conceal it; lie uses no prevarication, he shamelessly avows it; and you, you do not even stir at this, but sit there in perfect indifference to the affront! Go to, Flacsinfingen, you are not worthy to have a virtuous wife Ask an interview with me I The wanton!" repeated the counsellorfs lady, indignantly. "Why, Martha, do you seriously think that Ine marquis would attempt-- ? Come, come, you are mad,-absolutely mad!" cried the counsellor, impatientlv. 1"If lie does request an interview with you, it is for no other purpose than to speak about the lawsuit; nothing can be plainer than this is. He knows, as well as every body else, that I place entire confidence in you, in fact, that you lead me by the nose. Well! in order to work upon me, he very naturally wishes to work upon you first, Martha. '- Work upon me! indeed, I would resist him at the peril of my life!" exclaimed the counsellor's lady, with the air of a heroine. At that moment a carriage was heard to stop at the d,or. "'Heavens' 'tis he!" cried the lady, sup- porting herself on the arm of her husband's chair. "My blood freezes in ,my veins. Flacsinfingen, dto not leave me: in the name l of Hleaven! defend me."' But the carriage proceeded on its way; it was, a false alarm. ' Martha raised her hand to her brow, and said with emotion: Myv heart failed me, I confess; but fear will sometimes overpower us." I "Nay, then, since you are so afraid of this marquis, why receive him, why meet him face to face?" asked the counsellor, very naturally. ' Why, why?" replied Martha, with a look of supreme contempt at her husband. "He asks me why! None but a soul ab- rorbed in gluttony would suggest such a ,juestion! \vi hy Is the warrior dishonoured who basely flies before the foe? Why is the righteous one who hath fought valiantly preferred before him who hath not striven Why do the Scriptures, (and Martha shew ed her Bible, which was opened at lhe book of Judges), why doth the Scriptures say: "Ye that offer yourselves willingly for ,jao avenging of Israel, bless the Lord. Speak, ye that ride on the white asses, ye that sit in judgment, and walk (without fear)' by the way--" "But," cried the counsellor, impatiently interrupting his wife, " but once again, I say you are mad! Who is there that thinks of fighting with you upon such an animal as that. of attacking you, or striving with you, or trying you by fire? Is it likely that at your age any one-Ab, bah!-come now, you'll make. me say something that will affront yon, Martha." "Yes, yes! add insult to vulgaarity; no thing would astonish me-=coming from, you." "But aain I say, do not receive this marquis, do not adnit him!" cried the ex- asperated counsellor; my mind is made up to sustain the rights of the German princes, since you will have it so. Nothing that this l4ebuclhadnezzar, this Pharaohl, this Tarquin, may sav or leave unsaid, whl alter the case. Rest assured that I do not want him to attack you, or you to resist, in order to be convinced that Vou are the most vir- 'tuous wife in all Gernlanv. Therelore, t!Oink no more about it. shut your duoor, and let me attend to thesb furnaces; mly appe- tite warns me that it is nlear noon, and I reckon so much upon a baked pie, with cur- rant jelly sauce, that I drealmed of,it all night." Having heard her husband out, Mme. de Flacsltfigen replied with an airof calm and concentrated disdain: "I can easily conceive, sir, that you should think of nothlg but the gratification of your sansuality, wlien your wife's virtue is threatened. 1 myself, ten, will undertake to defend your honour and my own. Like Judith I will defy this Hol- ofernes, and like her will say: I Grant me, 0 Lord, enough of constancy in my heart to des- pise, and strength wherewith to destrovy- " "See there!--he's Holofernes now," cried the counsellor. "But notwithstanding my resolution," continued Martha, "I am but a weak wo- man, after all, and this miscreant is capable of resorting to the most frightful excesses-- all that I ask of you-is, to arm yourself well, and be ready to succour me, if my efforts should unfortunately prove ineffectual!" '-"But, Martha, take courage, be not afraid- you can see yourself only by reflection. Let me, then, as your glass, discover to you that you have a certain look-a certain indescri- bable something about you-which will preo vent, even the most rash, from treating you with disrespect. So that I have no need to arm mvself in order-" "'Yon know that what I will,I will," said- 1Mme. Flacsinfingen, interrupting her hus- band, and darting at him a look that seemed to leave him no power of resistance. "Al- though I regret extremely the postponement of your dinner hour, do you go and bring an arquebuse, and having hidden yourself under the table, witness the interview. Be ready to come to my aid, in case of need, when I try, "Hlelp, Flacsinfingen!" - "s Hide myself under the table with an arquebuse! For what purpose? Gracious Heaven! H-" "What I tell you shall be, shall be, sir!" This scene tool[ place in the counsellor's study! a considerable number of arms, such as were used m the middle ages, hung upon the wainscot, as objects of curiosity. The counsellor's lady chose an arquebuse and a poniardr which she laid on the table; she examinedfor some time a Persian buck- ler and a steel breast-plate, and was on the point of equipping fcerself with these defen- sive wea pons, in order to resist more effect- ually the expected attacks of the marqu;q: but considering herself well enough provided with the poniard, she stepped up to her husband. "The poniard is for me; the arquebuse for you. Jael had only a nail for a weapon; ludith, a sword ; Dalilah, a pair of scissors; Martha shall have a poniard." '"But, Martha, take care; that arquebuse has remained loaded ever since the day I tried it. Merciful Heaven! what is the use of all this preparation?" Another carriage stopped at the door. The oounselior's lady felt a strong emotion of terror when her servant came and said: "' Madam, a French marquis wishes to speak with you." "O Heavens!-'tis he-, courage, then!" she said to herself, and then added aloud; "when I ring, Clara, shew the stranger in." When the servant had left the room, Mme. Flacsinfingen solemnly embraced her husband, and said in a tone of deep emotion: "Now, now, Flacsinfingen, the time is come--shoulder your arquebuse, and Heaven preserve me!" She then raised the cover, and by a ges- ture directed her husband to slip under the table. "But, wife, I shall be suffocated under there,-this is absurd!" "Do you hear me!" said Martha, in a commanding tone. "4 Yes, but this is folly--" "Flacsinfingen, do you hear me!" repeat- ed his lady in a fury, seizing her husband's arm, and rendering each word more emphat- ice,by a hearty pinch. "Zounds! I must be as weak, as foolish as you, to give in to this contrivance," said h ecounsellor, rubbing his arm, and squeez- ing himself under the table with no little difficulty. "( Now, when I cry: ' Help, Flacsiafin- gen ' -you come out from there, and -fie up. on the Philistine!"' said his wife; she then dropped the table-cover, which stifled the last murmurs of the counsellor. qiHaving made sure of this concealed auxil" iary, Martha made very able preparations for defence. a She took care that the table under which the counsellor lay, should be between her and her dreaded adversary. She moreover contrived to be flanked :by a couple of chairs, and to have a screen on the rear- of her: the Toledo poniard also was placed within her reach. It was then the counsellor's lady rang her bell, with a throbbing heart, and this whis- pered admonition to her spouse: "Hold yourself in readiness, Flacsintingen!" Some inarticulate sounds proceeded from under the table-cover, the door opened, La- toriere entered, and Martha laid her hand upon her weapon. CHAPTER XIV. THE INTERVIEW. ON this occasion, also, the metamorphosi of the marquis was complete. He did not appear to be more than twenty years of age; his chesnut hair without powder, and part- ed in the middle, encompassed his charming face, which now wore an expression of art- less simplicity and ingenuousness. He was dressed in black, his eyes were cast down with seeming timiditv, and fumbling his hat between his hands with an embarrassed air, he remained standing at the door, apparent- ly afraid to set a step. 'Madam Flacsinfingen, with an angry and determined look, and one hand upon the hilt of her poniard, awaited, as she thought, the entrance of a bold and dashing nobleman, ot pert demeanor and fluent speech ; but to her utter amazement, there appeared a youth of remarkable beauty, and so timid withal, that he hesitated to approach her. Unwilling to trust even her eyes: in this case, and fearing that there was some mis- take, Martha addressed him in a shrewish tone: "( Are you indeed the Marouis Letorike?" Yes, madame la conseillere," he answer ed, in a faltering voice, without raising his eyes, and blushing deeply. "Do you come from France?" "Yes, madame la conseillre; I have been here three days." The clear, soft, and youthful tone whic page: 62-63[View Page 62-63] her inquiries drew forth, redoubled Martha's astonishment: she let go her weapon, lean- ed towards the marquis, and said to him in a somewhat milder voice: "Are you, in short, the M. de Letoriere, who comes to solicit us respecting a law- suit?" "' Yes, madame la conseilere." "A suit against the dukes of Brunswick and Brandebourg?" "Yes, madame la conseillere." These responses, made with a simplicity that bordered upon folly, and stammered forth with all the external signs of diffidence, restored Martha's conrage; she rose and even advanced a step or two towards the door, saying to the marquis: "But come nearer, sir." Letoriere raised for the first time his full, soft and melancholy eyes, and fixed them for a few seconds upon the counsellor's la- dy, then cast them down again, so as to leave them veiled by his loing, dark lashes. Never in her life, had M'!artha encountered alook so. soft and captivatingr. She was moved, and said to thc marquis with a sort of testy impatience: "' Draw nearer, sir,--one would really say I frightened you-' "Oh, no! madame la conseillere; you d) not frighten me, for the virtuous woman is an excellent portion, and she shall be given to man' for his good deeds, saith the scrip- ture." "He quotes the scriptures!" exclaimed Martha, with admiration;. and she resum- ed, now at case: "( Do I overawe you, then?" "Nay, madam-but your presence is so imposing.-You resemble one of the daugh- tere of our king so strongly, that my heart beats in spite of nme;" and he marquis laid his hand grac-ully on his heart. Upon mnv word, I can fcarcely speak. Oh! be not offended with me, madam; we cannot always master our feelinrs," said Letoriere, looking timidlyk and imploringly at the counsellor's lady, who felt highly flattered at the cffect vlitich she had pro- duced, and no less so at her imputed resem- blance to one of the daug-hters of the French king. "Am I awake or dreaming?" said Mar- tha to herself. "Is this the shameless, dar- ing, remorseless libertine?--But perhaps he is beguilinr me, and this apparent innocence is but an abomuinable deception of the evil spirit!--the cunning of the tiger, who ap- proaches his prey with stealing pace, the better to seize and dercur it!" As these thoughts occurred to her mind, the counsellor's lady, imitating to a certain degree, in her retreat, the oblique and wary movement of the tiger, prudently regained her den-thtLt is to say, the table, and whis- pered to her husband: "Prepare your weapon, Flacsinfingen--the moment ap. proaehes." There was a slight shaking of the tables cover, but it was impossible to tell whether it proceeded from thecounsellor's shoulder- ing his arquebuse, or from a mere gesture of impatience. Martha had no sooner entrenched herself thus within reach of her poniard, than she resumed her imperious tone and lowering look, and said harshy to Letoriere: "Well sir, what is it you want? Miy husband is convinced that the claimsof the German princes are just, and all your proceedings will De fruitless." "Farewell, tnen, madame, since you will not deign to hear me. I have no hope left -Alas! alas! how unhappy am I!" The marquis, covering his face with his hands, approached the door with an air of deep dejection. Tlhis movement, so far from indicating anything like hostile inten- tions, together with his look of utter des- pondency, lulled all Martha's suspicions, and sallying once more from behind her breast- work, she stepped up to the marquis, and said to him in a softened, but still rather peevish tone: "a Who said I would not listen to you, young manll? Why do you go away? Al- though the success of your selt is doubtful, it is my husband's duty to examine into your claims. Confide in mc--towe courage; have I so terrible a look?-Conie. sit down by mv; don't be afraid." And ,iving thus Martha took the marquis by the hand, ani led him slowly to a chair, repealing as she did so: "Take courage, you lmust not b, timid, my child." At that moment a loud burst of laughtei was heard, the table cover was suddenly raised, and the fat counsellor, wnth arque- buse in hand, emerged fromn his hiding place, exclaiming with a fresh fit of mer- riment: "Where's your poniard? where's 'out coat of mail? where's your buckler, Martha! 'Tis you, now, that are obliged to cheer u} this Pharaoh! this i3Neb lidnczzar--Ha ha! ha! behold Judith bringing comfort to Holofernes!" However startling and incomprehensible to Letoriere, this sudden apparition of the counsellor might be, it was, with difficulty that he refrained from laughing too, at the grotesque figure of Flacsintingen. But Martha, maddened and humiliated by her husband's coarse allusion to the precautions she had taken so unnecessarily, rushed upon him with an infuriated air, exclainming "Are you not ashamed of having recourse to such vile means, to act the spy upon vour wife? Oh!, the hateful tyrant! the -jealous abomination! Did I ever give him reason to doubt my virtue?"And Martha, raising her eyes, called upon Heaven u ritness the injustice of the poor counsellor, who, completely stunned by these unexpect- ed reproaches, stood gaping, with the -ar- quebuse still in his hand. 4 Why, what is all this, wife?" said he, "Twas you --" "I'll bhear nothing," cried Martha, seizing aim by the arm; " leave me---1 "s But -- at all events--" '"Begone, sir, begone! your presence is hatefulto me!"And Martha pushed her ausband rudely towards the door of a closet adjoining the room in which this scene took place. "But, wife!" said the counsellor, still resisting. "And before this young man, too! Good Hleavens! what will he think of mee!" cried Martha. ' By the furies! 'twas you that-" "To lie there like a traitor, with a mur- ierous weapon!" added Martha. "Nay, once for all,-let me tell you - and the counsellor, losing ground, was thrust against the door. "A downright ambuscade! worthy of an Italian bandit!" continued Martha, seeming to shudder at the thought. "And yet, I vow, 'twas you yourself, wife, that-" "( An aulic counsellor, to act such a part I He! I'm horror-struck--; begone! begone l" And after a pretty long contest, Flacsinfin- gen disappeared at last, behind the closet door, which his wife barred upon him. "Nay, now!" said Letoriere, smiling to nimself, when he found that he was alone with Martha, " 'tis no longer she, but I myself, egad! that may soon want a cham- pion-I very much regret the loss of the man with the arquebuse," he added, looking around him with sometning like apprehen- sion. Martha turned towards him, lowering her eyes like an offended prude: ' Pity the confusion, sir, which I cannot but feel at the scene you have witnessed!- Alas! my husband is 'so unfortunately jeal- ous-horribly jealous! Heaven knows! withllout the slightest cause. He is in fact aO visionary in that respect, that knowing I was to have an interview with you-with a young gentleman"-and Martha hesitated- it who, they say, is so-I mean-whose rep- utation is such ;-in short-my husband hid himself-for the purpose of-But, oh dear! you understand-you know the rest." "a Yes, madam, I had been informed that M. le- Conseiller was very jealous," said the marquis, timidly. "You were informed of that?" echoed Martha, mincingly. ("Yes, madam, they told me tha M1 le con- seiller was very jealous of the influence whieh-you exercised over his clients, who always addressed themselves to you rather Aan to him. You are known to be so kind, -so correct in your, judgmentl-And yet your husband dught to bless you daily; fot the Scriptures sa th: 'Happy is the mad that hath a good, wife,' and that ' the num- ber of- his years shall be multiplied.'" This was pronounced with such an ex- pression of virgin innocence, and in so soft and devout an accent, that the astonished Martha, after gazing long and steadily at his enchanting face, said to herself: "He is verily a pascal lamb! Poor innocent!- scripture texts always in his thoughts-how he interests me!"'--And she, resumed aloud: "Teli me how it is that your parents allow one so young as you to travel aloneI Why do they leave to one so inexperienced, the cares of an important lawsuit?" ( Alas, madam, I am -an orphan,-poor, and without protectors,-no friend or guide have I but my old preceptor." "But with such interesting qualities as you possess, how have you acquired such a character as yours?" "I, madam?" asked Letoriere, with an gelic simplicity, "what character, for Hea- ven's sake?" The counsellor's lady remained stupified at these replies; she could. easily conceive that common rumours should be liable to-ex- aggeration, but that a youth so unsophisti- cated, so religiously brought up, should pass for a licentious libertine, was What she could not comprehend. "Have you no relation of your own narbe at the French court ', she anxiously in. quired. "No, madam "- ( It must be these German princes that have circulated these reports with a view to injure their opponent," thought Martha. "But tell me, what steps have you taken as yet 2" "Alas! madamrn--very useless ones--I first called on baron Henfereseer "-- "Just Heaven!-poor lad, and did yvou venture into the cave of that horrid Poly phemus?" "Yes, madam, and oh! didn't he frighten me!"--- " Come, come, tell me all; and do so without reserve, for my husband and I, you must know, heartily detest the baron." "I was not aware of that, madame--s- that I was afraid to tell you "- "Nay, nay! tell me the whole of it." ', "Well! madam, I went to the chateau of Henferester. The baron began'by liagh- ing at me because I went in a post-chaise, and not on horseback."' . "The ugly centaur! he fancies that events body, like himself, is mane of iron ai steel," said Martha, contemptuously. . ;J;,' ', When I began to speak to hmi resped - ing my suit, he,said tome in his louadvpoic ' , Let's it, down at, table first-we canu tal better with a hand on the tankard." page: 64-65[View Page 64-65] , "That's just like him-the drunkard!" "Not daring to contradict the baron, I took my place a table; but at the risk of displeasing him, by-the-by, as he had omit- ted to ask a blessing, I requested permission to do it." "Poor little martyr!--Well, well, my child! the beast allowed you to ask it, I hope!" s"Yes, madam; but he scoffed at me ai- terwards, and I could not help feeling of- fended "-- "I should think not, indeed-Poor sheep, where had you wandered to, well-a-day!" "As I ate very little, the baron said to me, ' What! have you dined?'-- No, sir, but the scripture saith: ' Be not over hasty at the feast.'" ,' And you answered the glutton well, my child ; but you might have added by way of prophecy, that sleeplessness, pains and colic, are the portion 'of the intemperate, for I really wish him as much, the brute beast," added Martha. "4 Then, madam, he gave me a large cup brinlful of pure wine, telling me to pledge him--'Nay, sir,' said I, ' I never drink wine unmixed.' With that, madam, lihe burst into a laughing fit, and replied: ' No matter-drink now-to your mistress!'" "To talk thus to a lad of his a4--what an abominable corrupter!" cried the coun- sellor's lady, with uplifted hands. ",I did not understand what he meant; but I dipped my lips in the great goblet, and placed it on the table again quite dis- concerted." The baron then said to me with a side look, and in his thick voice: "You don't drink wine, you don't eat, and you don't talk. Perhaps you will be more communicative between a cup of kirch- wasser and a well filled pipe of tobacco." "Kirch-wasser and a pipe! Oh, the old cossack! To try to lead this lad, who is more like a girl than a young man, into his old-soldier habits!" "When I told the baron that I never drank strong liquors, and never smoked, he began to curse in such a manner as made me blush for him, and he said to me: ' You don't smoke and you don't drink; I see we shall never come to a. good understanding; for I feel no interest for people who are not like myself! Any how, are you a sports- man t Yes, baron, I have hunted larks with a looking glass. This reply, madam, I made him laugh and swear worse than be- I fore, and he added: ' Young man, excuse I my frankness, but the chat6lain of Henfer- i eater would rather never again handle a glass, a bridle, or a hunting knife, than to 1 interest himself for a lark-catcher. I can do ( nothing for you.' And so you see, madam, i I lelt the baron, and cam;e back in despair." t "And did you not call on Doctor Sphex?" t td. Martha, reflectig. " Yes, madam; but the first thing he askel I me was whether I was conversant with pro. f fane literature, and a certain pagan author - named Persius, who, I have been told, is I unfit to be read by young persons like me, I told him I was not; whereupon he de- l dared my cause was a bad one, and that mv [ adversaries had clear rights and titles. I had therefore no more hope in him than in the other." The counsellor's lady was deeply affected. "Listen, my child," said she to the mar- quis; "you interest me more than I can express. I am sorry to see the other coun- sellers so opposed to your claims; but I , cannot help it; all that I can do, is to try and ensure you my husband's vote." "Oh! madam, will you really be so good!" cried Letoriere, with the'liveliest fexpression of gratitude. "i Oh! well may the Scripture say: ' The strong woman is the joy of her husband ; she shall make all the years of hie life to pass ill peace.' Yes, madam, for I will bless your husband, and he will be proud to have to thank you for having made the good cause to triumphi." "Scripture again! he is really a little pastor," said Martha, fondly. i Put," she added, I( do not go and entertain unfbunded hopes, and do not despair either. The ba- ron and doctor may vet lay aside their pre- judices ;" and AMarthia continued, speaking to herself: H How painful it is to me to de- ceive him thus! He has but little chance, and yet I have not the heart to discourage him. " "Ah! madam," cried Letoriere, throw. ing himself on his knees, "t I feel that you are my good angel. It is to you I will at- tribute all the good fortune that may hap- pen to me henceforward. Me:cy! how good and generous you are, madam! Let me here at your feet, thank you again and again." )ilartha in deep emotion, turned away her head, and said softly to the marquis as she gave him her hand to kiss: " Come, come! my son, get up; remain no longer in such a posture." The marquis, still on his knees, resolutely took the offered hand, and raised it to his lips, shutting his eyes, and saying in an im- passioned and grateful tone, "' oh! madam, how can I thank vou for such kindness?' " There, there!' little fool," mid Martha, gently disengaging her hand, and giving Letoriere a playful box on the ear. "Do you want to make me repent of my kind- ness?" From the moment that the marquis fell upon his knees before Martha, the jolly face of the counsellor might be seen, still armed with his arquebuse, and gradually rising through an oval window over the door of the closet that served as his prison, Whea he saw his wife so litue inclined to rec* to her poinard in order to repulse the Tar- ( quin, the Holofernes, the Nebuchadnezzar, i and what not, the counsellor determined to have merry vengeance for his incarceration, and so lired his arquebuse in the i x, say- nir:-"Martha, did'nt I hear you cry, ' help! placsintingen!'" then leaningt upon ;he window-frame, he fell into an impmode-. rate fit of laughter. Ilis lady, exasperated at this practical jest of her husband's, thought proper to laint. Letoriere rushed out to call for assistance, and lt' Martlia in the hands of her women and husband, who, on seeing the serious re- sullt of his pleasantry, had jumped dowil in haste to beg pardon for his impertinence. CHAPTER XV. TIE TRE TIAL. tJN the day appointed for the trial of Let- oriere's case, the three counsellors repaired to the palace. Their vote was to be secret, and to be given in by ballot. After the sitting, Henfercster, Flacsinfin- gen, and Sphlex coolly exchanged civilities, at the same time scrutinising each other with no little anxiety. For a moment, the doctor thought he would try and interest Flacsinfingen in Letoriere's favour, but he was'afraid lie might compromisb the inter- est of his pro:dge thereby, rather than ad- vance it. Each of the counsellors had near- ly the same feeling : they therefore con- cealed from each other the direction of their vote, and tallied of things which had no re- ference to the suit. "This fine young fellow will certainly lose it-will be the victim of my col- league's unjust partiality; but at all events, one vote shall be thrown in for him." Such were the reflections which each judgoe made apart to himself. When the vouchers had been again pro- duced by the reporting commissioners, af- ter a long sitting devoted to listening to and not discussing f:acts, the three counsellors rose and solemnly placed their votes in the urn. The-chatelain of Henferester, who presi- ded in court that day, ordered the clerk to search the ballot. Each counsellor had written on a ticket the name of the party whose cause he espoused. The clerk dived his hand into the urn, drew out a ticket and read: "TaE aMARQUIS D1s LETORIERE." 1"That's my vote," said each counsellor O himself At the second drawing, the clerk read again: 'THE rARQUIS DE LET;O RIERE." A third time the clerk drew a ticket from the urn and read: "TaIE MARQUIS DE LE;TO;; nRIEE." Words cannot express the look of utter amazement which rose to the countenances of the three judges. , The clerk recorded the judgment. All the legal formalities having been complied with, the counsellors again withdrew to their hall of deliberation. Notwithstanding their satisfaction upon seeing the marquis gain his suit by a unan- imous vote, they were strangely bewildered at this coincidence of opinion; and hasten. ed to come toan explanation of the mystery. "How the plague came you to vote for the marquis?" shouted the baron, addres- sing, Flacsenfingen and Sphex, and gaping for an answer. "I was ust going to ask you the same question, baron," replied Sphex. "What could possibly lead you to such a decision? And you too, Flacsentingen." ', With me, 'tis very different," said the chatelain. ,Amongst ourselves we can speak frankly; and vou will allow that: when the balance of right is so nicely poi- sed, a man may throw his predilections into the scale, may he not? Well! in sporting phrase, my dogs and the marquis's hunt tO- gether, and that is why I gave him my vote. In a word, he is a man whose character, whose manners, whose habits please me.-- I promised it to him, though in despair of his gaining the suit thereby, feeling assured that you would both be hostile to him. I am delighted that he has come off victori- ous; but hang me if I understand how or why you came to support him!" ( The character and habits of the mar- quis please you?" repeated Sphex and Flac- scnfingen at once, staring ait the baron. "Certainly,-never did a hardier hunts- man sound trumpet in our torests, -never did a gayer companion or a thirstier soul, drain his tankard "rubis sur l'ongle," il the French say. Tthe two counsellors lausghed in the face of the chatclain. "He, a ghardy huntsman! -a trunmpeter!-- -poor young Latinest!U friendless scholar," said Sphex, shrugging 3 his shoulders and again bursting intoa fit of merriment. "A staunch tippler too!--a gay compan- * ion! the sober lad who quotes the Bible on/ D all occasions! the timid stripling who' I could'nt look at my wife without blushing r to his very ears!" said Flacsinfingen, with an ironical laugh. , "What's that?-the marquis, a main ot s letters,-a Latinist! He quote the Bible. , and blush before a woman!,. repeatUed tidr r chatelain in turn, laughing upro;riouslyi e 1 his colleagues. "Nay nay, my masit sti X ! page: 66-67[View Page 66-67] are both mad, or rather you see every thing away through your spectacles." ,( You are mad yourself with your hunting horns and tankards!" cried Sphex impatiently; " what taste can a man like the marquis have for your drunken orgies and gladiator sports?" added the doctor, with a look of supreme contempt. ,' You would not have fallen into such an error, if you had heard him recitke and comment upon the admirable verses of the king of Latin poets!" "For my part," cried the infuriated ba- ron, '"I shall believe in what my own eyes have seen, and not in the visions of your sick imagination! In my presence, the marquis killed a stag with the best aimn- ed thrust of a hunting-knife that ever brought a beast to the earth." Ill y pre- sence, he blew a finer blast than ever came through the horn from the lungs of an im- perial huntsman! In two days, I saw him drink more beer, more Rhenish wine, and more kirsch that you'll ever drink in your whole life, doctor Sphex! In company with me too, he rode my old Elphin, which many a squire would find difficult! So that once again I tell you, and youFlacsinfingen, that Letoriere, the rough and roystering cavalier, knows two well the handling of whip, trumpet and tankard, to lose his time or grow pale over musty books or blush before a wo- man! Once again you are both shallow- pated dreamers ---" At this apostrophe from the chatelain the other two counsellors clamoured in concert, and the dispute soon became so violent tat the three speaking at once could not under- stand each other, and resorted to the gross- esl personalities. It required the entrance of a constable to put an end to this singular conference. The officer walked up to Flacsinfingen, and spoke to him in a whisper. "Gentlemen," said the counsellor, "t m wife desires to speak with me; if you will hear what she has to say, I am sure she will throw some light upon the subject, for she conversed for two hours with M. de Letoriere. Listen to her, and vou will see tlat what I assert is strictly true," added lie counsellor. '.Let her enter, if she will," cried the chatelain. "But in spite of all the petti- t coats in Germany, I repeat that I saw Le- c toriere kill a stag with his own hands, and a drink as many rounds as myself!" I "And in spite of all the hunters, whip- pers-in, and drinkers of Germany," exclaim- a ed doctor Sphex, "I maintain that I heard i Letoriere recite to me some verses from f. Persips, ,nd comment upon them more eru- ditely than the most learned professors of s ojtuuhiversities could have done! . More- orit btaon, you will never make me be.- ht#e, that a man so well lettered and of so biined i taste, wolld go and scour the g forest like a poacher, and drink like a Hun e garian hussar." i "And let me, in the teeth of all -he pro t fessorr, sportsmen, and drinkers of the em r pire, affirm, that I saw Letoriere tremble ' like a child before my wife, who was i obliged to coax him into courage; and that ) I heard him quote Scripture with all the i sanctity of a pastor," cried the exasperated f Flacsinfingen; , a glance at the marquis is sufficient to prove that in his look and de- * eanor there is nothing of the gladiator." The, counsellor's lady entered in the Fmidst of these conflicting assertions. " 5My wife will set you, right withouw doubt," said Flacsinfingen; "she has as vet taken no part in the discussion, and--" But Martha cut short the thread of his speech, and addressing herself to the baron and doctor, with an air of affability and congratulation- Nothing is talked of here in the palace. gentlemen, but the success of MV. de Leto- riere s suit; allow me to compliment you upon this unanimity of opinion, so unex- pected. Thanks to your wise union, gen- tlemen, it may be said that the cause of innocence and religion has prospered! For in my opinion, M. de Letoriere is a beauti- ful personification of innocence and religion, morally and physically, if I may be allowed the expression, for he has the countenance of an angel." "There! what did I tell you, gentle- men?" cried Flacsinfingen. "What angel and child are you talling about, will you please to tell me, madam?" asked the baron. The lady replied, somewhat peevishy "I am talking, sir, of a poor youth, as well known to you as to me; for you tried to make him drink and smoke, and even make the pious lad join you in the chase, .wlen he came to solicit you concerning his suit. Oh! I know all, monsieur le baron: but the angel bravely resisted vour tempta tions; lhe drank water pure as'his own soul, and was not afraid to remind you of dutier which you had forgotten." "'Sdeath, madam!" cried the chatelain "you don't know-" i "I know all, I know ., i sLet you!" re. turned the lady, with volubility; but I par don you, seeing the ascendancy of virtue has alone sufficed to bring down your unjust prejudices." The chatelain's face became almost purple, and he muttered to himself: "If this last ten minutes longer, I shall have an apoplectio fit, I am sure." " But, madam,",said Doctor Sphllex, you are strangely mistaken-and-" "And you too, sir," retorted the lady'; "you gave him your vote, to be sure; and glory be to you for it. You have done well, but now tell me: how could you imagine that a youth so piously brought up, and fed with the bread of life, the holy scriptures, could ever soil his chaste memory with any of your abominable heathenish literature! Why did you treat it as a crime in him, not to know the verses of a certain Persius, who, they say, is the most immodest of satirists?" "By Hercules, madam! it was on the contrary that-" ' "By Hercules!-there now!--what a horrible pagan oath!" cried the lady, raising her bands to heaven. "I know all, I tell you; But I say to you as I did to the baron: Since you have laid aside your unfounded prejudices-since you have united wijd my husband in bringing about the triumph of "our innocent protege--honour and glory be to you!!" it My dear bar on, I feel that this scene has dreadfully excited my nerves," said the doc- tor, turning pale, and catching at the cha- telain's arms with a convulsive movement of' impatience, "I am not well-" "Nor I, doctor, I am suffocating-I am giddy. l[Mv head feels as though it would split-I must have fresh air!" The door opened, and the usher announced that M. le marquis de Letoriere requested the honour of paving his respects to the gen- tlemPnn of the council. it 'Tis Heaven that sends him to us!" ex- claimed the lady; " let him enter! let the lear pascal lamb enter!" V"Yes, let us see this water-drinking ,nmb!" said the baron,with a sarcastic smile. "Let us see this enemy to profane litera- ture, forsooth!" said the doctor, in the same :one, and joyously rubbing his hands. "Let us see this Nimrod," said Flacsin- fingt'en. "Nay. ratl'er, you will see the pearl of young nlen," said Martha, in a tone of deep and unaffected conviction. Letoriere entered. The surprise of the spectators was un- bounded ; they stood petrified as it were, and gazing at each other. The marquis was dressed in a style of unusual elegance. He wore a sky-blue vel- vet coat, delicately embroidered with a leafy edging of gold and silver; his vest of silver tissue was spangled with gold, together with his small clothes, which were of the same color as his coat; white silk stockings, clothed with gold, red-heeled shoes, a golden mounted sword with embossed silver orna- ments, a shoulder knot of blue, silver and gold, and a white plumed chapeau-bras, which the marquis held in his hand, com- pleted this dazzl!ng costume. This perfect metamorphosis might alone dave sufficed to overthrow all the conec- tures, or rather to confuse all the recollec- tions of the counsellors and Martha; but what still added to their astonishment, was he impossibility of their tracing in Letor- i6re's face anything like the impression that had struck them individually. So that, in the fascinating nobleman so richly clad, No sprightly and intelligent in look, and so el, gant and graceful in figure, although a little effeminate, the baron could by no meanu recognise his rustic and slovenly hunter; the doctor looked in vain for his learned Latin- ist, and famished poet; and Lady Martha saw no more in the bright black eyes of the marquis, the timid and downcast look of the scripture quoting youth. Lerornere felt the necessity of putting a speedy end to his judges' astonishment, and said, as he respectfully saluted them' "May I here b{j permitted, gentlemen, to express my warmest gratitude to you col- lectively, and reiterate she assurances there- of to each of you individually." The three Germans could find no other expression than that which their counten- ances had borne since his entrance, and awaited in silence the close of this strange scene. Letorire advanced first towards Mme. Flacsinfingen, took her hand with an air of respectful gallantry, raised it to his lips, and said to her m a soft and serious voice: "I knew before-hand, rPdam, that in order to enlist your sympathy, to raise myself to a level with your exalted charac- ter, a pure and religious state of feeling was *requisite-and in attempting to exhibit this in my deportment towards you, I have not been guilty of deception--I did but borrow for a moment your own style of language; and believe-me, it is too dignified and too beautiful for me ever to forgiet it' "and he bowed respectfully. "As for you, monsieur le baron, I have no other means of proving to you that I am still a member of the fraternity of jolly hun- ters, than that of inviting you to come next year and spend St. Hubert's day with me at my chateau d'Olbreuse. If you will deign to accompany M. le Baron," he added, tur; ning to doctor Sphex, " we will resume- our commentaries on our favorite poet. To con. elude, Gentlemen, it haS been hitherto from taste alone that I wa's fond of the, chase, the perusal of the ancient poets and of the scrip- tures; it will henceforth be from the grate. ful recollection of your valuable support." With these words, Letoriere again bowed to the three still speechless counsellors, and retired. Flushed with this success, which ensured his union with M'lle de Soissons Letoriere was returning to his lodgings, when the following note from the princess was put into his hand by a courier. "'The king is dying-my liberty, and our future happiness, are threateneP-Comel, Come!"Transported in a moment frwor , a state of beaming hope to that of the da kest woe, the marquis set out for Pan. page: 68-69[View Page 68-69] CHAPTER XVI. THE DUEL. ON the very day of his return to Paris, and whilst he was in the act of changing his dress, with the intention of repairing immediately to the presence of the king at Versailles, M de Letoriere received a call from M. le baron d'Ugeon, a relation of M'me de Soubise. Accompanied by two seconds, he came to demand satisfaction of tile marquis for his offensive conduct to- wards the marechale, at the hotel de Sou- bise, before his departure for Germany. Surprised at this recriminatory proceed- Ing, for which he had not given the slight- est cause, Letoriere, without declining the challenge, declared that as he had but then returned at full speed from Kenna, in order to take a final leave of the king his master, who was said to be dying, he would not con- sent to meet the baron till after he had per- fobrmed that sacred duty. The marquis's bravery was too well known to admit of any demur at such a proposition. It was agreed, that when IM. ed letoriere was ready to accept the ren- contre, his seconds should give the baron d Ugeon notice thereof. Having despatchled Dominiquc to the Abbey de Montmartre for the purpose of delivering a letter from him to the princess Julie, the marquis started for Versailles. Louis XV. was dying of the purple small-pox. This disease, so extremely contagious, and drea'ded almost as much for the hide- ous traces which it left as for its frequently t fatal termination, had spread such terror among the courtiers, that Letoriere found b the simall apartments, occupied by the dy- 1 ing king, almost descried. The panic was c the greater from the fact, that vaccination 1 was as yet unknown. It was with difficul- ty that the grentlemen-in-waiting could be N kept at their posts. Louis XV. had ex- s pressly forbidden the Dauphin and other d members of the royal family to approach his person, for fear of exposing them to the 1h fatal contagion. p The viscount de T* *, one of the gentle- t1 men of the king's bedchamber, and then in attendance, was stationed in a room that n led to the royal apartment, when Letoriere n arrived, pale and painfully excited. Forgettingon so awful an occasion the ci usages of court, the marquis was about to raise the glass-door which opened upon the kii sick cham'ber, when the viscout, stepping h- up in haste, laid his hand on his shoulder, m and said to him in a whisper : "Stop, sir: you have not the privilee as of access to his rlmajesty's bedroonm." p " I am told, sir, that the. king is almost de deserted by his servants, who dread the contagion. If it be true that death reigns within there, one may surely enter without regard to the etiquette of court," said Le. toriere bitterly, and attempting to pass on. s, "Again I tell you, sir, you calnot approach Ig his Majesty. Neither do I know that ha g would consent to receive you." t "Go, 'then, and ask him, Sir; the king "will not reject theservices of one to whom of he has ever been bountiful and kind." ro This proposal to cnmer the monarch's Df chamber seemed to alarm M. de I,'** ; he )- therefore answered the marquis haughtily, i- bnt still in a suppressed voice: "I have orders to receive none but those I- admitted by the first gentleman-m-waiting, t- At that moment a faint, but well known e voice was heard to ask : "Who is there? n Who is it whispering thus?" r "The king has heard you, Sir. You must answer for the consequences of this," said M. de F**'; and he replied aloud: "May it please your Majestv to pardon me if I answer without entering, having I ourself given express orders to that effect. L The person to whom I have been speaking, Sire, is-" "Is Letoriere, who beseeches of the king permission to approach hini," said the mar- quis, in a somewhat louder tone, interrupt- ing M. de . I "Indeed-is it you, my son - -so soon re- turned?" cried Louis, with evident satlis- faction. But quickly'reflecting ithat he might expose the marquis to the danger ol infection by allowing him access-to his cham- ber,! the prince added: "'No, no-th e air of this apartment is fa- tal to life. Enter not, I forbid you." "For the first tine in my life, I will dare to disregard an order frol m'In k]in. But I have a duty to fulfil and I wiill fulfil it," cried Letorie're; and raising the glass door, he drew near the monarch's bed. "Be -egone-begone this instant! 11unha ppy youth!' exclaimed the prince, raising- him- self to a sitting posture, and pointin g to the door wilth an air of command. But Letoriere hastily seized the monarch's hand in spite of his resistance, kissed it re- peatedly and reverentially; and kneeling by the bedside, he said: "Will the king pardon my boldness-but now he has no longer a motive for rejecting my services." " Begone---leave me!" replied Louis, for- cibly withdrawing his hand. "Four years ago, I -was happier; the kiing then deigned to let me kiss his royal hand in thhe garden of Versailles," -said the marquis, with an accent of filial veneration. "' But four years ago, my hand could not; as now, communicate a dreadful disease; perhaps death itself;" exclaimed Louis, with deep emotion. Letoriere's heroic devotion affected this t excellent prince the more deeply, because, c with the exception of a few valets of his household, he had been abandoned by near- a lyv all the courtiers. 'The higher officers of the crown, whose du- 1 ties placed them in immediate contact with t his person, had but too faithfully obeyed his l orders, which prohibited their remaining near him. N The fine feqtures of the king, disfigured by the ravages of the disease, already beto- kened the near approach of death. In these, his last moments, the fatal dissen- sions and threatening political agitations which had obscured the close of his reign, painfully engrossed his thoughts. The no- ble anti disinterested conduct of the mar- quis diverted him for a moment from these overpowering reflections. "You are a mad- man--you merit my severe displeasure, for daring to disobey me and exposing yourself thus ;" cried Louis, more in sorrow than in anger, and casting an affectionate look at Letoriere, whlo was still silently kneeling by his bedside. "Let me not incur the king's displeasure! this is perhaps the only opportunity I may have of testifying my gratitudel!" "But I repeat, this malady is infectious; do you not see how I am abandoned, that I amn alone, that i desire to be alone!"-has- tily added the prince with an evident bit- terness of feeling, as if he wished to conceal his first thought; for the self-sacrificing de- votion of Letoriere rendered still more hid- eous to the king's eyes the ingratitude of his courtiers. s"Brave and noble heart!" said Louis, con- templating his young friend with painful interest. "You know no fear---you, at least are faithful." "Will the king then recompense my fidelity by grantiing me what he denies to others,--the privilege of serving him, of re- maining with him?" a.-sked Letoriere, clasp, ing his hands imploringly. "It must be so now," said Louis, and then addled in an almost despairing tone: "But you are young! you have beauty! you are beloved ' and all this you risk for the sake of being- near me! All this, and more, perhaps, you sacrifice for me, poor youth!- whilst so many others "--and after a moment's pause, he added: " The Dau- phin has already--I doubt not-a crowd around him, ready to salute Louis XVI." ,' What says your Majesty?". "'Tis the fate of dying kings, my friend. Alas! to die and be 'forgotten are not my greatest fearsu-would to Heaven they were so! But France,-France-what will be- come of nmy poor kingdom ? And my grand- son, what is his sad destiny?" "' France has named you, sire, THE WELL- BELOVED; you may yet live long to wear the welltearnud title, and the Daupin will one day-" ( I do not deceive myself-I am feeble, 1 am approaching my end," interrupted Louis, shaking his head sorrowfully," and I be- lieve, .too, that certain deaths are portePm tous. The marechal d'Armentieres and-the marquis de Chauvelin, died suddenly before me,-in my cabinet; these are Heavenly warnings." "Banish the thought, sire.- This disease is dangerous; but care ---" "Care will not avail, I feel, I know it well; it it this which makes the thought of having vainly placed your life in jeopardy, so dreadful to me,--but now it is too late. Your imprudence-no, your generous devo- tion, has rendered all regret useless. But tell me-I have heard with pleasure of the success of your suit. There can be now no obstacle to your union with the princess Julie. Oh! -I have had to break many a lance for, you with the marechale and the whole house of Savoy," added Louis, with a gentle and benevolent smile. "I have had to use all my authority, in order to pre- vent their withdrawing M'lle de' Soissons from the abbey de Montmartre."' "How gracious on the part of your ma- jesty to think-- " "'Tis now the time or never-to-morrow it may be too late. My only fear is, that when I am gone, the princess Julle will have no support from my grandson. But if Heaven grant me a few days longer, I will see to it; it will be gratifying to me to leave you as happy as you deserve to be, my young friend." The king's disease made rapid and fatal progress, and Letoriere did not leave him for a minute. It is needless to say with what tender, respectful and touching solici- tude, he watched the dying king. The sight of him appeared to soothe the suffer- ings of Louis XV. He repeatedly extended his hand to him in silent gratitude. Soon all hope of saving the prince vanished, and "etoriere witnessed with a fixed and .tearful eve the agony and death of the sovereign, who had evinced for him all the kindness of a lather. After the death of Louis XV. the marquis de Letoriere hastily took his departure fromn Versailles, intending to go to Paris, and thence to the abbey de Montmartre, to vi/it the princess Julie. On his way thither he felt an alternate sensation of extreme heat, succeeded by an icy coldness; but attributed this indisposition to the painful emotions that had so recently agitated him. He had no sooner arrived than hequestioned DIomri ' nique respecting the princess. Louit XV page: 70-71[View Page 70-71] on his death bed had but too well foreseen what would h3 her position. His successor had ordered the provost of France to des- patch an exempt to the abbey de Montmar- tre, for the purpose of preventing Ml'e de Soissons from leaving it, or receiving any visitors who should not be furnished witf an authorisation from M'me de Soubise. Dominique had therefore been unable to eace the princess, or deliver the letter from the marquis. This intelligence fell like a thunderbolt upon Letoriere's ear. He doubtless relied much on M'lle de Soisson's firmness of cha- racter; but he also knew the power of the House of Savoy, and the influence of'Mme. de Soubise at the new court. He was ab- sorbed in these bitter reflections, when the seconds of' M. le baron d'Ugcon came to ask at what hour it would be convenient for him to grant their friend the promised rencontre. It gave the marquis a cruel pang to be obliged to incur the chances of a duel before he had once more seen the princess Julie; but he had already asked for one delay, and felt that he could not demand a second. He therefore engaged to be in readiness the next day, at three in the afternoon, with his witnesses, behind the walls of the farm des Mathurins, at that time a very retired spot. The marquis had six and thirty hours be- fore him: during which interval, he hoped to be able to find Forne means of seeing M'lle de Soissons, c at Atlist of conveying a letter to her. Dame Landry wad despatched to the abbey de Mor tnartre, d sguised as a female ped- lar; w tn a. complcate assortment of lawns, canr bt ;rc, crapes, ribbons, and lace. In or- der -:o i ak!e favour with the nun who kept the lgte', she gave her a handsome kerchief. T1 d&e'ighted sister promised to let her in- to .hc courtyardl in the afternoon, when the la,;ecs should be taking their usual walk ; andr assured her that she would meet with putchasers amongst them. Madeleine in- quired what ladies of quality resided at the abbey. The doorkeeper mentioned- the princess Julie. " Is not Mme. Martha, M'lle de Soissons' nurse, with herer" asked the tailor's wife. " To be sure she is," replied the sister, g and you vilil et; her in a moment, for she e almost aiways comes down about this time i to-wait uron L;er mistress. Bercause I have a recommendation to I lX'ile AIRrthi," said 5Madeleine," and I am :ute, that with her good word, I might sell th. princess several articles: I have first and foremost, there-a piece of lace that t would set off the dress of a queen;" and the c t&aloress half opened a case, and showed a the sister a splendid sample of lace. i "Heavens! how beautiful it is! Why, E my lord Alchbishop does not wear finer on t n his?leeves, when he comes to officiate r here." "Perhaps, indeed," said Madeleine, , the - princess might buy this curiosity, (for so it e is) to make a present of to monseigneur; a least the person that recommended me to t dame Martha told me so." "Here she is, just in time," said the door. keeper. Martha approached with a sad and i sullen look. "Here's a pedlar who comes recommend- t ed to you, madam Martha. She has the I handsomest lace you ever saw." "I don't want any," said Martla, with a look of annoyance. "But, madam," replied Madeleine, hesi- tating and trying to make a ign of intelli- gence to the nurse, "I was told the princess wanted to buy some lace and--" "You were deceived, or rather you are trying to deceive me, neighbour," answered Martha, peevishy. "You look like one of those tramping pedlars that take care never to call again on their customers, to know whether they are satisfied with what they have bought." "You would'nlt compare me to one of those paltry creatures, madame," said Ala- deleine, still mading her telegr, pllic signs; "if you knew who recommended me to you- ," Who was it?" "M. le marquis dle Letoifere." On hearing this name, dame Martha ex- changed a quick but .eanning glance with Madeleine. The two women understood each other. The door-keeper knew nothing of the name or even the existence of the marquis; but fearful of exerting SUSFpicion if she yielded too soon at the mention of' tlis name, the nurse replied in a surly tone: "Go, and deceive some one else, gossip; I don't know your marquis." "And yet he .is nephew to the abbe du Viglan," resumed Madeleine. "Nephew to the abbe6 du Vighan!- tha's very different; why did'nt you say so soon- er? The abbe du Vighan's nephew would recommend none but hlonest people. And what have you to sell?"' "This piece of lace ;" said Madeleine. casting a significant glance at Martha. 'Tis good and handsome from one end to the other; the princess may unroll it, she will not find a blemish." I'll go and shew it to her; and have you nothing else?" "Nothing that your mistress cares about." "Wait till I return," said Martha. Enveloped in this roll of lace was a let- ter from the marquis; he therein inquired of Julie by what means he could procure an interview with her. M'lle de Soissona in reply told him, that she considered her, self his wife in the sight of Heaven, and that she was determined to escape from the bbey if possible, in spite of the surveillance 9f which she was the object. She could at any hour go to pray in the c hapel. This chapel was separated from the cloister by a long subterranean passage. A certain part of the cloister wall, which M'lle de Sois- sons pointed out, mi'ght be scaled from the field on the outside-; which being effected, the door of the subterranean passage would be discovered near a fountain. Having forced this door, the way to the chapel was clear. WI'lle de Soissons informed Letoriere that at one o'clock, each night, she would wait for hiln there, in order to bind herself to him by a vow made at the foot of the altar, and to devise the means of escaping to England from the persecutions of her family. Julie put this letter, penned in haste, un- der cover of the roll of lace, which Martha gave back to Aladeleine, telling her that the princess did not find the quality fine enough. Being thus apprised of M'lle de Soissons' determination, the marquis sent for Jerome Slcard to examine the localities of the ab- bey. The walls of the cloister were very lofty; but surrounded as they were by swampy and deserted grounds, they might be scaled, without, in all probability, attract- ing notice. Unfortunately, the preparations indispensable to this adventure did not al- low the marquis to attempt it till the fol- owing night. For the first tinle he feared death, as he reflected that the duel might, take place be- fore his interview with M'lle de Soissons. Letoriere passed a night of painful agita- tion; strange visions haunted his sleep, and he awoke feeble and dispirited, For the first time he thought it not improbable that he had beconme the victim of contagion, and of his devotion to Louis XV. His phy- sician, indeed, detected alarming symptoms of purple snmall-pox; but stated that the disease would not be fully developed in him till the following day. The misconcepltion af a point of honour on the part cf the mar- quis made him obstinately persist in lis in- tention of fighting the baron that day, in spite of his weakness and the advice of his two witnesses. At a quarter past three the rencontre took place; the marquis's friends, seeing that his debility increased, and that a fe- verish flush overspread his face, thought it their duty to appeal to the manly feeling of M. d'UTeon, and request a postponement of the affair, without, however, informing Le- torn iere of the proceedin,. But a harsh and offensive reply from the baron as to this new delav, having rendered all conciliation impracticable, the combat began. Letoriere wras a perfect master of the weapon, his va- lour had been proved; but the rapid pro- gress of contagion had already so debilita- ted him, that lhis advantages were thrown away; and he received a sword-thrust, full in the breast; His seconds conveyed'him home, and left him to the care of poor Do. minique. CHAPTER XVII. THE ABBEY. THE cloister bell of the abbey de Mont. martre tolled eleven. The night was'stor. my; the sky grey and overcast, notwith. standing the moonlight which gleamed at long intervals throuTgh the dingy wind-rent clouds. On her way from her apartment to the chapel, M'lle de Soissons had to Croqs an open gallery, the vaulted arches of which fronted upon one of the inner'yards of the abbey. In the midst of this court-yard stood the tomb of the countess d'Egmont, the charn- ing ill-fated daughter of the marechal de Richelieu. The princess Juhe had received, by the help of hr nurse and dame Landry, a brief written iiitlmatidn from Letoriere, that he would do all in his power to effect an entrance into the abbey that very night As the sound 'of the bell struck her ear, M'lle de Soissons, agitated by an inexplisa- ble presentiment, knelt in prayer upon the steps of the tomb of M'me d'Egmont. She momentarily awaited the arrival of the marquis, through the subterranean passage to the chapel. No sound interrupted Ithe deep silence but that of the wind howling throuih the vaulted arches. In spite of her resolution, notwithstanding the noble and religious motives that actuated her conduct, notwithstanding her unsullied purity of soul, the princess could scarcely repress a feeling of terror at having consented to an inter- view with Letoriere in the chapel of the abbey. She now regarded it as sacrilege. This feeling having gradually subsided, gave place to one of anxiety, of agonising suspense. A solitary lamp, which burned in the chapel, cast a doubtful lilght through the shadowy aisles. M'lle de Soissons, kneeling by the door that communicated with the secret passage to the cloister, lis- tened eagerly in that direction. At length she heard the sound of footsteps-the lock wras forced, and Letoriere appeared before the princess, who could -not repress a cry, of surprise and affectionate welcome. "My doubts are past-I see you again- my love!" she cried, with delirious joy, and then quickly added, " but come into the gallery, let us leave this holy place." When by the light of the moon she was enabled to see the marquis, the paleness ot page: 72-73[View Page 72-73] ai countenance struck her forcibly. He was wrapped in a brown cloak, and ap- peared to walk with difficulty. In spite of the wound he had so recently received, in spite of the progress of his disease, regard- less of the tears and supplications of Domi. nique, the marquis, accompanied by Jerome Sicard, had succeeded in scalin* the walls of the abbey. "Do I again behold you, then, my Julie?" said he, with a voice of inexpressible ten- derness. "Yes, and soon to part no more, love!" said the princess, offering him her hand. "My hand-no--no-just Heaven!" cried Letoriere, recoiling in terror, and muffling himself more closely still in his cloak. The astonished princess looked at him in silence- "Julie--Julie--pardon me-that I shrink thus from you--but having heard of' the king's sickness, and that he was abandoned by all, I went to him, and did not leave his chamber for a moment till le died." "Alas! I see it all!" exclaimeld the prin- cess. Tl'his terrible disease is infectious, and your life perhaps--and our united hap- piness, will be the price of your devoted loyalty!" "No, no, be comforted, Julie. All hope is not lost. Although suffering, I resolved to see you, that I migrlt put an end to your suspense, and tell you I liad gained my suit, and that tlicre was now no obstacle to our happiness." t"None-none, but death, perhaps!" cried the princess desp airingly. " 5y God! my God! in what agony of suspense shall I live!" *' Say not so-Madeleine Landry will try and give ilMartha news of rne daily. You see I am not seriously ill, or 1 co;uld not have conme," said the liImal(quis, flintlv. "I cannot live iln such torftriln dIoubt,"' replied the tprincess, "I will Ilv Withl you this very niiht." "Julic, 'lis impossibllc-no preparations nave been iiade. I In eaven's n;nae, I imi- plore you, wait. Do) not endanler our comn- j mon welfilre bv an unadvised )roceeding l" 1 "But do 1 not sec that you are suffering n horribly? I will not leave you ill such a a state--I cannot. I have energy-I lhave! courage; where you have passed, I can . t e pass. Having etfected my escape from thb - abbey, I will seek the protection of the bailli f de Solar. They dare not forre me openly I from the Sardinian Ambassador, if I throw myself upon his hospitality. There, at least, each, day, each hour, I shall hear of a you." s "Again I tell you, Julie-it must not be," said Letoriere, tottering towards the tomb of Mme. de Egmont, and leaning upon one of the pillars for support. "And can you thnk," resumed M'lle de Soissons, with a sublimity of loolk and tone, "can you think that I, who for five years have watched your every step w'ith the so- licitude of the fondest motlher--who have fearlessly striven against thel wishes of my familv, will leave you now suffering, al- most dying-from an illn-timed motive of propriety?-No, no! the love I fiel is too pure, too holy, to call forth blushhes or seek concealment t" "Julie--pardon me," murmured Letoriere, falling, upon the steps of the tomib, "T have not told vou all." "My God! my God! he is fainting!" "Hear me Julie,-'tis my last prayer-- let me but feel your breath--your lips upon my brow." "He'll die!-is dvin,!! Charles!-my Clharles!!" cried the' princess, in a tone of utter liopelessniis, and kIneclino' bv tl;e side of the marquis, who Iiad draw1dnhiis cloak so closely around him tihat she tried in vain to talie llis hand. "I did not tell you-that I received a challenige froom the baron d 'Ugeon," contin- ued Letoriere, witlh a voice that became fainter at each word lie uttered. "A linrsmlan of the llareclha!' s!-Thev have murdered--baselv murdlered liimi!" "No--I fougrlt-this crtl'il ---;itlh him --lie acted }o nl(I1(J1r}lv----- cd ] }I'eceived--3 wound--in the breast--Julia! I wished to to --:ce you once g;'in.--Farc2we!l.---Tke ring-y-you know-N ,'u will tlake it back.-- YOUR EYE HAS IN EED! FOLLO\IEI) IME--EV1N UNTO rDE AT11. God ;lrdon me! I w-ould fain lhave lived--lfloughtl inlself strong enough to live-till nmor!ng--Julie-agoin-fare. well!" Such were the dying words of the Mar- qits de Letoirier, A BRACE OF LAW STUDENTS. OR, THE DANGERS OF -ROWDYISM. THE limits of the island upon which stands the City of New-York, the great commercial emporium of our country, are indeed not cxtensive, and yet within its nrWrow boundary lines move and hlave their being more than half a million of people of all ages, colors and climes. Although some- what behind a few cities of the old countries in magnituude, yet New-York contains a world withiin itself. Heie Ls fonnd the brighl est virtue and the bltakcl;t vice ; the most enterprising industry and the Inost disigusting laxzi lness; tlm Ios t dlazzlilig riches a11d the most squa!l poe'rty ; the great- est in,genuity and the Nworst stl,idity ; the 1uthost (sthlkess andd tlim greIatest decelption ; the most stecrlig, integrity and the raliksct dislollesty, and tlic fairest dacliln g and the nmost artiul humbugcry. 'llis great hosft of hluman beings lhave souls to be saved or lost, and bodies that muintst be fed and clothed. Thousands upon thousands go snp- perless to bed, and wna;ke up in tile morlinig, not kIowing xliat tlihey shall have for brcaklist. Others again tax their ingenuity to create new wauts and desires, because their old ones are more than satisfied. Being flush with money, which their industrious fathers have accumulated, mgany young men are continually upon the stretch after novel pleasures, and contracting habits which ultimately prove their ruin. And even those whose means are lim- ited spend twice as much in the night as they have carned in the day, and often steal from their employers to make up the delficioey. Tlhe phases of human life in ,reat cities are many and various. Solme arle cudgelling their brains to fild the mce;lanls of sub- sistelice, wliile others are as lard at work to find w*snySs to sj)ellnd their monlley; aind nl0o labor so Ihard as tlosc wh11o :.e cntilnulally sttriving to create artificial t:wants. But we must not lojgcr \dwell iupon strich generali tiest or fwe have a brief story to re- late in lwhichl some of the various phases of city life will be made to ap- pear. Our drama of human life will be a short one, yet sevcral characters will strut their brief hour upon the page: 74-75[View Page 74-75] stage, and perhaps point a Dmoral from which some good may be derived. Charles Williams and Edwin Mount- fort had long been intimate friends. Mr. Williams, the father of Charles, was a very wealtliy man, and indulged his son to a .foolish and even dangerous extreme. Edwin's father had been rich, but reverses of fortune had re- duced him to poverty. These young men had each received a coilegiate education, and were students at law when our story commences. Both had always been abundantly supplied with pocket money while at college. This liberality of their fathers laid the foun- dation for expensive habits, and they were not lonlg in erectingl a very lofty and spacious superstructure. They were wild fellows, but the influence that wealllth always gives often shielded them from the severity of the college government, and furnished them pass- ports to favor and indulgence. During the four years they passed in collegiate studies they learned many things which their classical books did not teach. As thousands have done before them, they acquired several bad habits while in college, among which the taste for wine was by no means the least perni- cious. Hundreds of bottles of wine had been drank in their rooms, and many nights spent in sleepless excite- mcnt and certain kinds of rowdyism. True, when they had finished their col- legiate education and left their Alma Mater, they had not become Confirmed drunkards, nor low rowdies, still the S foundation of such a character had ( been laid deep and strong'. The first t steps had been taken, and, consequent- s ly, the others became more easy. Two I years they hnd studied law together in s the same office, or rather one might s n more properly say that two years had elapsed since they had entered their - names as students at law, for but a 3. small part of the time had been de- 3, voted to the acquisition of legal sci- d ence. Young Mountfort felt severely s the poverty to which his father had n been reduced, and his pride was some- - what alarmed by that circumstance, , but his moral habits were not reform- e ed by the humiliating circumstances. r Young Williams was generous and oc- I casionally loaned his boon companion i money, or paid the bills when they s went on a spree. Both had access to - the higher circles of wealth and fash- r ion, and yet they really enjoyed them- ; selves better among. rowdies and- , drinking characters where they could throw off all restraint and were not I subjected to those conventional rules which govern the higher classes. In - drinking and rowdyism these students ' at law kept even pace with each other. There was no nook or corner of the city they did not visit in their noctur- nal rounds. They were frequent customers to the splendid drinking-saloons on Broad- way, and to the low groggeries in the region of the Five Points. They pro- fessed to believe and often said, that they could never become astute and shrewd lawyers, unless they made themselves acquainted with, all the phases and developments of human nature. In fact they were ever ready to give a good reason, or one perfectly satisfactory to themselves, for all their conduct. They were fully determined to become finished and .accomplished scholars in the science of human nature ; for they greatly prided them- selves upon such knowledge. In pur- suing such a course, they were aware of the corrupting influences that sur- rounded them. Feeling strong in themselves they fancied they could touch' pitch and be clean. They did not entertain even the most distant idea of becoming drunkards or de- graded rowdies. "Come, Edwin, let us take an ex- cursion over the city, and see what's going on this evening," said ChaTles Williams to his companion, as they stood leaning against the marble coun- ter in an oyster-saloon on Broadway, drinking their glasses of brandy, for wine had become rather too weak for their nerves. "I fear it's too late," replied Ed- win, pulling out his watch and looking at it. "It is now past twelve." "Just the witching time of night," said Charles. "Some of the dancing parties, or, to speak moie classically, the subterranean soirees, are in full blast now, in the region of Cow Bay." "Cow Bay is not a very classical term; I fancy," answered Edwin, smil- ing, and quaffing his liquor. "But where shall we go? Have you any particular locality in your mind's eye?' "t A policeman told me this morn- ing that Peter Barlow, one of the colored population, holds soirees every night inll his underground saloon, where they dance and cut up all manner of shines," replied Charles. "Black spirits and white, blue spir- its and grey, I suppose," said Edwin, laughing and flourishing his slender, ivory-tipped cane. "Yes, all colors-practical amalga- mation," replied youtng Williams. "Then we shall see the colored la- dies, shall we?" asked Mountfort. "To be sure we shall; and they do say some of the colored girls who visit Barton's saloon are decidedly beauti- ful-skins smooth as velvet, teeth white as pearl, lips like rosebuds, and eyes sparkling like diamonds." "There, there, Charley, do stop," said Edwin, "I shouldn't be surprised if you were to fall in love with some of the velvet-skinned darkies. I will accompany you, for it seems to me it would be dangerous for you to' go alone, susceptible as you are to female charms." "Another drink and we'll go," said Charles, calling for more brandy. They drank, and started off with cigars in their mouths. , It was past midnight. The air was still and warm, and the sky clear. Not a cloud ob- scured the bright face of the motrn which rode high in the heavens and spread her silver light over the city and the waters in the bay and rivers. Late as it was there were many in the streets, turning night into day, and the rattling -of carriages was heard in all parts of the city. They passed into Centre-street. A few rods south of the Tombs a group of men, women and children were collected, talking, laughing, and making night hideous- with their clamor. A drunken woman stood in the midst of the crowd, flour- ishing her fists and swearing the first one who laid hands upon her should be a corpse. At that moment there were none of the policemen present, and the drunken woman knew it. Liquor had given her muchcourage, and she made the crowd stand back. "Shiver my timbers 1" exclaimed a sailor, who came elbowing his way through the crowd, and parting them as' a vessel parts the waters of the page: 76-77[View Page 76-77] ocean. "Let me see what kind of craft you've got here." Passing through the group, he con- fronted the woman who stood flourish- ing her arms and pouring forth a tor- rent of curses. "Avast, there, my hearty!" said the sailor. "Shut up yer clam shell, and make less noise, or, by Neptune, ye shall be anchored in some other harbor." "Mind yer own business, ye black- guard," answered the woman, hitting him on the head and knocking off his tarpaulin. "Easy, my heartyl" he said, leap- ing towards her and grasping her arms. She struggled to free herself from his iron grasp, but he held her firmly while two watchmen came up and hur- ried liher away. "That sailor is a courageous fel- low," said Williams. "If he hadn't pinioned her arms she would have scratcllcd out his eyes or tore the flesh from his cheeks with her nails." "SShe was firiols, but Jack knew how to take lier," replied Mountfort. "I would have as soon leaped upon a hornet's nest as to have grasped that virago,". said Williams. "Come, let us be off. There's no more fun here." "And the yellow gals are hard at it, I suppose," replied Mountfort. "Yes, they are now under full head- way," replied his companion. "Sweating, and spreading round a glorious perfume," said the other. "Never mind," said Williams. "It is human nature all over." \ They hurried along to Peter's danc- ing party, feeling very much in the mood of having a grand spree. Ere many minutes elapsed they heard the sound of the violin and tamborine coming up from the depths below. "Here's the entrance," said WilE liams, as he and his companion stood upon the sidewalk near some wooden steps that led down into the cellar.' "Well, go ahead, and I'll follow," said Edwin. Williams descended, followed by his companion. It was now half past one when they entered this subterranean dance hall and liquor establishment. Two darkies were playing the violin and tamborine at the farther end of the room, while Peter, the master of the concern, stood in his bar, leaning on his counter and grinning from ear to ear at a fat wench and a man more than half a century old dancing the polka with great-zeal and enthusiasm. Williams passed boldly along and leaned against the bar, smoking his cigar, and gazing upon the scene, while 1Mountfort, stood near where he entered, with his hands in his coat pockets and smoking his cigar. At the end of the hall where the musicians were located, a bald-headed negro and a female darkey with a gay colored kerchief bound round her head sat up- on the floor in a very cosy, loving manner. Several other negroes were present besides two or three white men. All the Dinahs, except the one dancing the polka, had gone into an adjoining room to be served with some refreshment. "Dat ole feller dances like de top," said Peter to Mountfort. "But Sal Rosebud more dan a match for him, I reckons." I' She does handle her feet like drum- sticks," replied Edwin. "-Yes, and one Qb her stockins cum down, and her slipper broke de string, Jus' now," said Peter, laughing as if he would split his sides. "But Sal neb- ber minds sich accidums when de spirit ob de music in her soul. Ah, Sal knows a ting or two." "She appears to enjoy the fun with much satisfaction," said Edwin.' "She be one ob our best dancing gals," answcered Peter. "She lubs de dance better dan she lubs de cake and wine. Why, she can dance till de sun rise ir de mo-rning, and den feel berry sorry it be so late. Gib her some wine and she will dance with you." "I will see about that," replied Edwin. "Go it old fellow," said Williams. "Time is precious with such a part- nor." "AicutI going it?" asked the man, straining every muscle, and shaking his old boots tremendously. "You are, that's a fact," answered Williams. "But your partner is a little too much for you." "Dat's a fact," said Peter. "Come, gem'em, step up and patronize de bar. I keeps de berry best of liquor de city afford." "No doubt of that," said Williams. "We'll imbibe directly, soon as the polka is over. I wouldn't lose sight of such agility." "More leddies come in soon from de odder department," said Peter. "Dey gone to eat a little cake. My wife preside in de odder room. Ah I we hab tings in style here, I can as- sure ye.'" "I perceive it," replied Mountford, imiling, and looking at his companion. ' Niblo's be a fool to dis place," said Peter, grinning and showing for- midable rows of teeth. - Here natur takes her course. No rules of foolish fashion stand in'our way. And de colored ladies are great on de toes as ye can now see." Their attention was now called to a disturbance at the other end of the hall, some high words were passing between an old salt and a dandy negro who stood near the musicians. "Gib me none ob yer sauce," said the colored dandy. "Death and fury?" exclaimed the man, seizing a stool with one hand and grasping the negro's throat with the other, while the old salt's companion drew a long knife and held it up over the throttled dandy's head as if he were about to make the wool fly if not the blood run. "Hands off I or I'll call de watch," groaned the colored dandy. "Order, gem'en! Order!" shout- ed Peter. "I must hab order iu dis establishment. No rowdies or fighting characters are allowed on dese prcmi- scs. Let go dat nigger, or I'll hab de police here dis minnit." During the scuffle, one fellow, much the worse for liquor, staggered or was rather jostled from his balance and fell upon the floor and keeled over upon his back, very much to the an- noyance of the two darkies who were billing and cooing on the floor near where the drunken man fell. "Great sport, this 1" said Williams. "Tlis is what you call human na- ture in its true colors, I suppose,"' said Mountfort, laughing. "Exactly so, and I intend to have a dance with one of these darkies, yet," replied Williams. The fight between the dandy negro and the old sailor broke up the polka, and Miss Rosebud appeared much frightened. "O, Lordy," she exclaim. page: 78-79[View Page 78-79] ed, Bill Bowman is choking to death I See how black in de face he is I Do part 'em quick, or we shall hab murder here, sure!" "Never fear, Sal," said Old Salt. "'I won't kill him, only choke good manners into him." "' Oh, I'm glad no murder is to be done here to-night," she replied. "I couldn't dance when a dead body was in de hall, no how." "You could dance in de grave yard," said Peter, grinning and exhib- iting his ivory. Order was now restored, and Wil- liams and Miss Rosebud took the floor. The music struck up and the student at law and the negro lady were seen in the giddy, voluptuous waltz-much to the amazement of the spectators. Young Mountfort soon returned from the other room, leading a yellow girl to the dance. She was a mulatto and much more delicately formed than Charles' partner. She was dressed in a pink-colored gown with a wide yellow ribbon round her waist, crossed in front, and the two ends nearly reaching the floor. Two large gold rings were dangling in her ears and a silk kerchief of various bright colors adorned her head, and a scarlet ribbon encircled hler neck. Her form was symmetrical and her counte- nance c :lres ive and pleasing. She had combed and pulled the wool upon her hlead so much that she had succeeded in bIringing out from under her head-kerchief some very dark and curling ringlets. Young MAountfort had selected for his partner the hand- somest negreps lie could find in the group. She had taken the name of Lucy Neale, but what her real name was we have no means of knowing. "Good gracious!" exclaimed Peter, as Mountfort led forth Lucy to the dance, "That gem'em be a judge of female beauty. Lucy be de moGd beautiful girl in de hall, but she can't dance better dan Sal Rosebud, and no odder live woman can do dat ting. Sal can dance all de night, while Lucy lose her wind and hab to rest berry often. But she dance like a top when she does dance, dat's a fact." Edwin and Lucy now commenced the waltz, with Charles and Sal. The other wenches now came in and the hall presented quite a galaxy of Ethio- pian beauty. Sal was evidently in her element, and Lucy skimmed over the. sanded floor like a sylph. The fiddler "put in" all he kl;new, and his brother musician gave the tamborine some very scientific lnocks in perfect time. "OhI this is voluptuous!" exclaim- ed Miss Rosebud, gazing fondly into her partner's face, as they were whirl- ing round to the measure of the music. "You be berry easy partner I How delightful!" "Charming!" responded Williams, while his arm encircled her waist, and he held her hand. "Glorious! Yon beat the white girls all hollow." "I reckons I can," replied Sal, smil- ing most sweetly upon hirmi. "I lub de dance, specially de waltz. We hab good music, too." "Excellent! Capitallt" he answer- ed. "But I begin to grow giddy." "I will hold yc up," she answered, grasping his arm more nervously, and whirling gracefully around. "I jest begin to feel de true spirit of de waltz." They continued to dance and to whirl in all directions. Edwin's part- tner began to grow fatigued, and to exhibit signs of wishing to reel. 'Pm weary, Sir " said Lucy, in a soft, delicate voice, looklng very lan- guishinugly Upon her partner, and half smiling. "Well, rest then," he replied, ceas- ing to dance, and leading her from the floor, while BMiss Rtosebud and her partner continued the dance. "Gib her a glass ob wine, and she will soon dance agin," said Peter. "She shall have it," replied Edwin. "Iy woman hab de berry article in de odder department," replied Peter. "We hab de best ob liquors ob all kinds in dis establishment." Edwin conducted Lucy into the other room and treated her to a glass of wine, and took one himself. "Sal will soon tire that gem'em down," said Peter to one of his guests, who stood near him. !' She tire any one down," said the other, "Sal great on de toe and heel, no mistake. Dis child hab tried afore to-night." "By heavens, my head swims like a Lopl" said Williams. "I can dance no longer?" "A few minutes more, it is so de- lightful 1" answered Sal. "Not another minute," said Wil- liams, ceasing to dance, and bringing his partner to a stand still. "A little wine will do ye both good, and Set ye to whirling again," said Peter. "Sal will show ye where de good article is." "To be sure I will," she replied, ' loading him to the other apartment. I It was now past two o'clock, but the students at law were in no hurry j to depart from such a charming scene. They came for the purpose of having a spree, and were determined to have 1 it before the morning broke. They A O1 ' continued to dance and to drink until * broad daylight. Young Williams be- ' came so drunk that he was unable to go home before he slept off the fumes of Peter's vile liquor. He was stowed away in the apartment over which the negro's wife presided. The female darkies were highly pleased with such nice young gentlemen for partners in the subterranean soiree. 'Miss Rose. bud, however, regretted extremely that Williams had become so much intoxi- cated, and expressed much sympathy for him while he lay snoring in Dinah's apartment. t"I be quite sorrowful that the young squire be so overcome," said Sal, as she stood gazing upon tLe sleeping young man. "I should lilre to hab a few more dances with himl, he's sich a voluptuous partner," "I'm sorry, too," replied Edwin, "for. I should be pleased to go Ihome now. I think we have had enough for one night." "' I hope you will visit my establish. me!t-gin," said Peter. "We always hab first-rate dances in dis saloon." "I our liquor is a little too strong for mBfriend here," said Edwin. "At, squire, we hab de berry best liquor de city affords. Some white folks mix de Croton water wid dere liquor and make him go furler, but dis child do no sich ting." i"No, squire, my lubly husband be an honest man, and ebery body dat come here get de worth of their mo- ney," said Dinah. "I think it would have been better for my friend if he had taken less of your liquor," replied Edwin. It Oh, he wanted to keep de steam up when he was dancing wid me," said the dark-eyed Rosebud. page: 80-81[View Page 80-81] "And he put on de steam so much dat he almost bust his biler," said Peter, laughing very loud at his own wit. t He wakes and begins to open his eyes," said Sal. True, the young man began to rouse up after sleeping nearly two hours. He finally got up, feeling like one who had most shamefully abused his stom- acl. Peter opened his heart, and offered the young men some bitters which lihe praised very highly, but they declined drinking any more of the ne- gro's liquor, and departed. But their stomachs had been too much fired during the ni(ht to remain at case. They called at a saloon on Broadway and imbibed, although they had re- fused to partake of Peter's bitters. These students didn't learn much law that day, but spent a great portion of it in sleeping off the effects of the night's debaiuch. It is not to be expected that two such characters as these students at law would abstain from other vices which are rife in the city. Gambling as well as drinking had become a pas- sion with them. They always shared equally profit and loss in their gam- bling operntions. Young Mountfort might be considered a lucky gambler, for fortune had generally favored hinm while she made a victim of young Wil- liams. But for Edwin's good luck Charles' losses would have been very severe; and, as it was, they were no great gainers in the long run. Wil- liams always supplied the funds and relied upon his friend's good fortune to keep them from vanishing too fast. Still, he often found himself minus in the morning after gambling all night. Time passed on, and their passion for gambling fnd their thirst for intoxica, ting drinks increased, but Williams traveled the faster of the two on the road to the drunkard's grave. In less than a year lie became a bloated drunkard and suffered one attack of delirium tremens, that terrible disease which hurries so many into an untime- ly grave. Young Mountfort either possessed a more robust constitution than his companion, or drank less; for intemperance did not mark him so strongly as it did Williams, but to other vices lhe was a more willing vic- tim. Gambling had become his most easily besetting sin, and so long as his companion supplied the means, lhe was at times flush with nioney. But Wil- liams was going rapidly down to a drunkard's grave, even against the re- monstrances of his friend, and in spite of every influence that could be brought to bear upon hm. Young Mountfort was anxious to save his comlpanion from stcli a Wretcllcd fate, but he was ill qualified for such a task. The rum-disease had so firmly fastened itself upon his stomach that the poor victim lost all control over himself, and heeded not the admonitions of his pa- rents and friends In less than a year and a half lie died in a fit of delirium tremens, leaving young Mountfort to mourn his loss and to shift for hmself. After Williams' death his fitlher was greatly surprised at the amount of debts he left bebind him. Bill after bill kept coming in until the fathler be- gan to despair of ever seeing the end of them. Almost every rum-hole in the city had charges against the young man, and some of the Broadway oyster saloons presented bills of several hun- dreds of dollars each. Old Mr. Wil- liams became vexed with such billU and finally put his foot down that he E would pay no more liquor stores, but da all other bills he willingly paid, leav- a ing several rumsellers in the lurch ta whose bills amounted to more than tt two thousand dollars, besides all that bi young Williams had paid them. The w father very justly said they had dealt c( out their poison and hurried his son M into a drunkard's grave, therefore he a felt under neither moral nor legal obli- c' gation to pay such debts. And who U can blame hm for coming to such a M decision? Surely all rational, sober, b thinking men will justify him, and c none but rumsellers will be disposed to 1L cast censure upon him. C Havinrg lost his friend and compan-. i ion, young Mountfort entirely neglect- f ed his legal studies and became a regular blackleg. In the pursuit of i this vile occupation he grew extremely corrupt in his morals and hesitated not to commit almost any crime that would insure him money. It is true he did not drink to excess, yet he was addicted to almost every other vice in which large cities abound. His father not being able to furnish him with money, and his luck often taking a turn against him, as it does against all -gamblers, he frequently found himself entirely destitute. Such freaks of for- tune made him desperate and pushed him to the commission of crimes at which he milght have revolted under other and more favorable circum- stances. Struggling with ill-starred fortune for sonie months after the death of young Williams, and grow- ing more and more reckless and despe- rate every week, he finally ventured to rob his roommate and brother-gambler of some two or three hundred dollars which had been won the night previous. His companion suspected him, but kept dark and concealed his suspicions for a few days until he could get some tangible proof against him. Among the money stolen was a fifty dollar bill from one of the country banks which had the appearance of being counterfeit, and therefore the young man from whom it was stolen had put a private mark upon it to which he could swear. He kept a strict watch upon the movements of Mountfort. Much time did not elapse before this bill was handed to a broker to be ex- changed for other money. This broker had seen the bill before and given his opinion to the owner that it was spu rious, but he said nothing to Mount. fort about that circumstance. How- ,ever he refused to take the bill, and ? immediately gave notice of the fact rto him who had lost it. Before Mountfort had time to dispose of the t bill he was arrested, searched and the 3 money found upon him. In due time s he was tried, convicted and sent to a prison. That was too much for his r proud spirit to bear. He became h desperate and tried every means in his a power to escape from his confinement, "but the walls of the prison were too If strong for his feeble efforts. Trouble, r- excitement, and the disraceo of being d imprisoned so wronght upon his system it that he was thrown into a brain fever Or which carried him to his grave in a a- few days. d Tlius ended the earthly career of 'e the two students at law. They were ,v- young men of fine intellectual powers, )e- and milght have become useful meme to bers of society and ornaments to the er legal procfession, but their foolish Lrs lhabits and practices while il college is. laid the foundation for their ruin. page: 82-83 (Advertisement) [View Page 82-83 (Advertisement) ] Once they considered themselves noth- ing worse than genteel rowdies, or wild, good-hearted fellows, but such habits and feelfngs are dangerous, and their indulgence too often leads to other and darker crimes which render human life a curse rather than a bless. ing. Let young men take warning and avoid, before it is too late, the miserable fate of the two law student, TIE, END, D ICK & FITZGc ELu's -Lt of I iccivts". A Guide for Young Men who Visit the Great, Metropois; NEW YORK IN SLICES. WITH NUMEROUIS ILLUSTRATIONS. BY AN EXPERIENCED CARVER. Boin, thhe, ignal Slices published in the "New York Tribune." With numerous illustrations. o0ta;ling' 128 pages, Price 25 cents. Slic- 1, Broadwray; 2, Chatham Street; 3, rall iStreet. 4, The Tombs; 5, The Fire Points; 6, The GCAm- bling Houses; 7, The Pawnbrolker Shops; 8, 11ock Auctions; Y, The Intelligence Ondce; 10, The Markets; ", ..e B'hoys; 12, The Firemen; 13, The Neealewolnen; 14e The Press; 15, TNo 'iterary Soirest 16, Tin 6 ,Tniotses' 17;, The E:ating lIoutses, No. 1' 1 Thle Eatiulr Iouspr, No: 2; 19, Dollmonico's; In, Tlhe Dandie; 2A1, 're Liquior Groeorics; 22, The Immigrants; 2v3, 8udt I Escursions; 24, The Thgatres; 25, Oy stote COell lars; ,6, Sunday in Nw York; 27, 3Behind the Scenes; 28, Nwsboys; 29, P atent Medicine alen: 30, Balls and I B elles of I;t1mman; all , 31, The Art Union; 32, The Bowery; d33, Manlteactures of New York Ove 1),000 coplies of this work have been sold. It is a rarA book. Any person that rads it will never -gt taken in. "Laugh and grow fat." Tales of New York Life. CAROL1E TRACY, THE OILLIBER'S APPRTlElTlCE; OR, - "FE IN NEW ORK ABMONG TIIE LOFTY AND LOWLY Being the 1Romantic Advcntures of a Young Girl in New York during 1847 and 1848. Price 25 cents. This is a spirited romance of Now York Life, nnd exposes some of tho mysteries of tils great city, in 9 way whihtl will make the uninitiated stare. It is a book of nlear 100 closely-printed octavo pages. THEt. lFIDNIGTT (UE2N; OR, LEAVES FR0X NEW YORK LIFE. BY G EOR GE L I?P A R D E S Q. Price 25 cents. TTEIA BEILLE OF TH:E LOWEREY. Price 25 cents. A m cllteratfnin . Nw Yhistory of Lie i and T eatresotn *BTIwh-imin how youGng tomen who hve no homes o't h, t 1()F OUlg green-horts are chald into 8owelry bloys, etc. It i. a ric, amusing, and h ly entertainine story. er ELLEe GRAoNT; OR, BASfeeoNABLE LIFE HeN NEW YOtLLE lPrice 25 cents. TH{E ADV/;TUI{E3 0O CLA1tENCGE BOLTON; OR, LIFE IN NEW YORI BY JOSEPH A. SCOVILLE, Editor of "The Pick." 10C octavo pages, with numerous illustrations. Price 25 cents, THE ORPHEANiSEASTRESS. A Narrative of Innoconce, Guilt, Mystery, and Crime. By the author of "Caro!line Tracy." Priee 25 cents. This narrative of events in New York is especially interesting; ao it alludes to incidents which evory nwew- paper reader must romember. Copies of either of the above works sent free of postage to any address in the United States. ' !lC page: 84 (Advertisement) -85 (Advertisement) [View Page 84 (Advertisement) -85 (Advertisement) ] DICK & FITzaSALDL9'S List of Pubicatiovs. Professor Ingraham's Novels. lBelow we give a list of the most celebrated novels of this talented author. MONTIEZUMA; OR, THE SERF IlOiU;L'. A Talc of the Last Days of the Aztec Dynasty. 238 8vo. pages. Price 50 centa. - THE DANCING FEATHER; OR, THE PIRATE SCHOONER. A thrilling Sea Tale. Price 25 cents OLPH; OR, THE PIRATES OF THE SHOALS. Price 25 cents. GRACE WELDEN; OR, THE BEAU'IV'UL BON K:1'T GIRL. A Tale of Boston and its Bay. Price 25 cents. PAUL DEVERELL; OR, TWO JUDGMENTS FOR ONE CRTtE. A Tale of the Present Time. Price 25 cents. JOSEPHNE; OR, THE MAT]P OF THE GULF. A Tale of the Sea and Land. Price 25 cents. Pierce Egan's Celebrated Works. QUINTI!N KATSYS; O!: , THE" . ., ,?'.K : OF ANTWEgERP. Beautifully illiistratdc. rrice 50 centS. This ' a repriint, and nne of the most thrilling, romantic .n:d fasf'inati'iG ;torics that had found itn wi:y to the puai c heairt a:ld mind fromjl any quarter. It is full of (r;..,lliatic actimfl- prtrayiyig eve:ry variety of tha Uh. &nd feeling, uiid counarcei fa.\or;illly witlh thi" bc.'t liodterln uovels. Indlld, it is anmong the bert eeor watton FAIR ROSAMOND; OR, THE QUEEN'S VICTIM. Price 5) ceuts. 'ThlM s one of the most remrarkable rorimances th t wa. ever written, and may be classed as a etandard book t t. i, trcthy a histo)rieal tale, interwoven with auchi a :unibrr uf ingt nious, life-like, and probable incidentsa, 4 t.-:s) ';' ".^ " ,0 ftci:'y. ,:, ,nf g(, n i' t,.:htv I , . ; i .' .: : I'.1t ,i)ry\"v I nit,. i." Ao s' of I;e'lle have roanl. and mil- floran , yt ;!;in rw;il1 radt, It is c,)mtlisete in 2S:l dioujbe'iu-coumria largo octaro pages, and illustrat64 with r&3;Ptti n; o,;3r. t"'it rnapr. 12 DICK & FITZGERALD'S S;lt of Putheliati w. Celebrated Revolutionary N ovels. E hAtRY BUUE!HAM, THE YOUNG CONTINENTAL; - OR- - TIIE A DVENFTURES OF AN OFFICER OF TIIE REVOLUTION. BY II. BUCKINH(IlAM. ESQ. I vol . paper, contalningI 6 ' closelv pr inted large oct tavo pages. Pric 50 cents. No Amori1an . ca r, th is iterestile t ctriaanit at ct a wisero and a htter man. Harry Burnham w:1 lhrnish thoug h ,lrossd in the allOinig garb, o f romlalnc e, a reliabile narrative of the Continental War--wih incideu tas otf p atriotism llnd necdote s Ilitlherto unrcorded th at mettake * itvaluable as a text book to the student of American History. . BYRON BL O'NDAY; A TALE OF THE REVOLUTIONARY WAR-., BY NEWTON A1. CURTIS. Author of "The Rnger of avenstremll," etc. Prite 25 cents. The inc s't. ,' e ll s cl:trmli sttory w er e tekun from tie. tmlolrthernl part (if New York, in t hile year 177, and is a worh t b ;i et' tl *;t . 'tk ] '8 a m: ,tterl of lprile 1o t lhe Amer icarn it, -ople thlat our own ciuntry il ts authors and in'lehntie of a a'iionarJ chlaracter sutiiciont fior a yt,' ,ttct;tive volume, and ar becoming just a nopul'tr h those of orctgn Smanufalxture. Ti'llls WNe!.Colllmlll to the lovers of fiction. THE RANGER OF RAVENSTREAN. A H t, IUANCE OF T'Ii"EARtLY HSTORlY OF AMERTCA. BY N1:EW\TON M. CUIRTIS. Author of"The Prairie Guide, etc., etc. Price 25 cents,. It is almo mneesar. to speak1 i prI:lsO f Mr. Cu;rtis' stories. -vcryhody who has read o.-4 tv them o will desireto read. ' all. WOlis I IisIr-e ofth ,ll 1llost xc itil g.. n d uring the troulblous tilncs o) the Molunfli river, %vllh I Sir Willia I Jo hllson rwaR Governrr, R101 paltv Pirit rm n high beteer. Wlgg allnd 'T'ories ; alln whnl the .rpllties of thel tdianas were brought to bear 8alint the nhkgh. Its historical featu res are p articul:lrl interestitlg. THE PATROL OF THE MOUNTAIN; OR, THE DAYS OF '76. BY NEWTON M. CURLTIS. Author of "The Scout of the Silver Pon," et a, etc. erice 25 cents. 'hl it;a highly interesting narr;tive of ev lnts pert:ining to the nRc rlutio(nairv V;ar--s ttinog ;orth thh 'hzrdship, trials, privations, s ad miseries vvinclh bsetthtsh el:etiing alndl Imtr liotie, spirits who 4rought nbout the Pree"om of A e ,teri. s.. It is full of int(irestitl .llri llitln t a,; e eligtaltho merin!an readers who are fond of the Ihistotry or their counltry. THE SCOUT OF THE SIALVER I POND, BY NEwTON I. U TIS. Author of "The Maid of SarRnaci," ete., etc. Prie '25 cents. TIosewho are fond of reading spiritedl and nwh-writton histori I rolanlle, will fnd thi the best snd dhespest book th t hg b Ten plublishdt i'l ;!on. tille. The Rscne is Ilur ing the American Revolution.--the Pew to us. fME WOODDIEA'S RIFLE; A TAILE OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTIOR. BY DISS SARAI; HOWX ' This is a story of the most thrilling interest. Price 25 cents. PAUL JONES; OR, THE SON OF2 THE SEA, A Tale of the American Navy during the Revolution, BY ALEXAN DE R DUMA S. Price 25 cents. -a of either of the above celebrated works will be sent to any one by return of mal, on the rIpt of the pricn I a letter. Address the l1tter to the publishers. and you will then receive the tork byr tin o maIl, hee of postage. 13 page: 86 (Advertisement) -87 (Advertisement) [View Page 86 (Advertisement) -87 (Advertisement) ] DICmK & FITZGERALD'S List of Publications. Newtol M. Curtis' Celebrated Novels. The Morning Star, in speaking of the late lame) teld tr(I. CURnTIS, ays: "He made himself thoroughl master i of almost every incilent in our tIvolutiollry anntn,and we have the result of his studies ins ail hiS (10pl7 ill- tereeting novels. His plots never outrlagoe ,ol,i:iit, the chal.:ctes are nobly dral, i: his fnilrit it the ' times that trined men'i ouls, ' enab[iC s lli to inltroduce, in hi s wojl 1 man: cqpiwdes of the adventurl:; arnd thrilling- dangter ihicih so of-len bcsec our forefi{hlcrs ill tIa t perilous prick.. In a word. his novelk are ro- arcanee of our contry's Ihietorf, penn d by an doquent mriter, whose patriotic hte:rt burned within hiim a, 1e chronicled the achieo emenlts of our gallant furcliathcr s." THE PRAIRIE GUIDE; OR0, 'HE 20SE F TEIE To GA1NDE. 'riceo 25 cents. BRYAN BLONDAY; 0r, TEE ;LE . tGEP OF T...E .20AWK. A Tale of tho Anmerican Revolution. Price 25 cents. \ THE MAID OF, SA-RAAO; A ..TALE I , 17AI OFP 1i812, PI'rice 2;) cents. THEE EAITER OF RAVE NiSTZIEEAH1. A Tale of the I'cvolutionary .War. 110 page s. Price 25 cents. THE HUNTED CHEF; O.1, THEi F2,jLE BANqDIT. A Tale o f the ,Iexican War. Price 25 cents. THE PATROL OF T .El V; ..O!"T AI ; Or.- Q1 :\ , Tr: DA7 ; 1 '778. A Tale of the Americuan Iilevolution. Pri:ce 25 certs. THE SCOUT o:1 TSjr S V E .7:E 'OND, A Tale of the Armrican kwolutio:. THE X AT RiCID A'S UA U-GHTE . A Tale of Evelis whilch occulrred in the City of Ncw Y' tw.-enty y v-rs ago. Piicc 25 cvnts, This is a fitory of thrillllSg in til rcst, (rn :! i .s Consequonc n. it. fntlrduces the reader into :ll FOlsorts o qe11r od1ni anyl , f'(n;ll that if a l;rer arnd boius-relev makesr, to the smart and cute lawyer, who is dctern:i:ecd to 1a1.ke lis foi!',n I) if 1,:.sirib!c. TE E VICTIM'S E V IEGE. (A Seqrlel.) Price 25 (i'cnt., TITE STA R O0F TIlE iFAL LEn. A Sequel to the alowt,. ' rice 25 c4nlts. W O OD'S , 1Or rG B OO. The buet and clicalest collectioll of ("onf;s ever )il l,ii:-:1i. ith I .uletous iii."lli.:(,llo. Contiy ing a eloct. tien of the most pnpulalnr Choruses, Q m' 1!, ". H;', D' t ts-, D ,:-. ! 'ar:; al s, Brltesq s. etc. Also, Ftlmny St o:i c, atiricl J,,i.. (,),:ia t F.,vi; 'L u, ' .p r.'rtes etc., asfi told byy ilhe clt lt ltd I ,. 'I . Ifo r ). :.l'ric' ', 1' 2 . .. Containing ' Jordlan ifi a Hard ltoad.?,)T;n. o." ,.;, c,;-i C"r! F:,rs ;" {oni Al-o tnmcrci N s;e tI;Iit linlll ti;I,;, *'.[C r,* ] ft" l"j CC; ',;{. illy PA L F1:': VA% ,1L. Author of "' The Mysteries of London1," etc. ii;-l octnvo rIng3. Price 25 ents. THE IIOUTsrA! OUTI,.-kW'- OiZ, , t v.- S-;'rv m asD A Talel o)f W'Wl]d Advlnt lr,. Price 25 c enta. RAVENSDBALE; OR, THE FAPT AL DBUEL By the author of "The First al se Stelp," I' Rse Souinlrvillc," ec:.' Prie t, cOnta EDWARD SAVILLE; Og, THE RESCUED Ni3N. BY 'BARON ST, LEGER A Tale of a Convent's Secrets. Price 25 cents. Iopies of the above justly celebrated works will be sent to any one by return of mail, on rc-eipt of the price in a letter. Addresa the letter to the Publishers, and you will then receive the work by return of mail, fre of " ; NATURAL HSTORY.- O By the Author of "Inquire Within," "The-Biblical Reason Wh," k&0 Large 12mo. Cloth, Gilt Side and Back. Price ONE DOLLAROS ,Giving reasons for hundreds of interesting facts in connection with Zoology,' and throwing a light upon the peculiar habits and instincts of the Varioi'd Orders of the animal kingdom. - ': j 3: , ,.- \- -**^ Why has the lion such a large mane? Why does the otter, when hunting for fish, swim against the stream . Why do dogs turn around two or three times before they lie ' down Why have flat Jfishes their upper sides dark, and their under sides white? Why do sporting dogs make what is termed a point V!'? Why do brds rAost upon one leg? i - Why doftrogs keep their mouth80seda while breathing? 7 Why do- catS, wen bevy played with, le 'on their. baw: seize the hand of the ptrn so payig wioth tlri': theirfore paws, and strike with their hifeet:- , ' - .:-9 Why does the wren build several neats1 but -occpy oe This volulme answers about 1,500 simlnar questions. . This is another of the useful and instructive works of the -aluable BRBEASON M :i; SERIES, now in course of publication by DICK & FITZGERALD. The works comprihg:-hili weries have won the most universal approbation, and "' THE REASON WHY., NAT'URIAL- B'sTotI nust necessarily increase it, for it is quite as entertaining a work as those which have pree: t, and, at the same time, treats on a matter with which every human mind should be familiair mnd of which none cares to confess itself ignorant. It pursues theusual courseof, question :i rnswer; but, instead of confining itself to the ordinary detail of the nature and habits of man, ,irds, quadrupeds, fish, &c, this volume enters into an explanation as to why, such and sucoh- kabits-are peculiar to such creatures, and wlvy such a conformation is given, in the-adaptiikt-ol: ,ause to effect, to such arid such singularities in the frame of such and such others. Thtis iBtii ,harming trait in its treatment of natural history, for it relieves the science of its dullness, and parts to its homeliest features a piquancy that is attractive. We venture tosay, thiatif h'W EASON WHY was thoroughly understood, not a house in the United States would beiwlthouat It'affords pleasant reading for the old;.and an inexhaustible source-of learning: for th oung, leading the simplest understanding up from the consideration -of the smallest things trew e comprehension of the most sublime truths in nature. - 4 -41,^ *411 . 400-.. ' . Copies mailed to any address in the United States. Send Gash Orders to . . , ' DICK & FITZGERALbD,: 18 ANN STREET,- NEW ;olt:: For Sale by the Agent who brings this ar page: 88 (Advertisement) [View Page 88 (Advertisement) ] THE REASON W HY SERIES. , rt . ' " These useful works will. when completed, supply all the. "Reasons" which the human nind has discoveredffbr the varied anid interesting phenomena of Nature; and for eyents, and their conse- quences, in rligious aiai'irhit6ry. "Sitch' a' series' entirely original in their plan, and executed with the most conscientiOus care -embraci'ng the very essence of demeonstrative truth and inductive reasoning-must becdmme at Widely diffused as the language in which they are written. Each work is complete in itself. O 4ea: The' -Rea-son, Why: General Science.; A careful Collection of some'thousands of reasons for things, which, though generally known, areimperfectly understood. A" bdokf of condensed scientific' knowledge for the million. By the. author of Inquire n Within."' It i8 a handsome 12mo, volume of 356 pages, printed on fine paper, bound in cloth, gilt and embellished with a large number of wood cuts, illustrating the various subjects treated of. PRICE 6NE DOLLAR. This work assigns reasons for the thousands of things that daily fall nnder the eye of the in- telligent observer, and of which he seeks a pimple and clear explanation. , " ' . -. . . . . E X A XAP LE ...... Why does silver tarnish when 'exposed:to light? * ' I Why do some'colorsfdde, 'and others darkeht, when exposed to the sun? What developes electricity in the clouds? Why does'lightning sometimes appear red, at others yellow, at others white?. Why does dew form round drops upon theleaves of ptanis? Why is the sktyblue? - - This volume answers 1,3325 similar questions. 4 , :'The Biblical, Reason Why:. A HANDBOOK FOl BIBLICAL STUDENTS, AND A GUIDE TO FAMLY SCRIPTURE READINGS. By the aUthdr of-;" fiquire Within," &c.- Beautifully illustrated,' large- 12mo., 'cloth; gilt side ani back. -PB tIlCE ONE."DOiLAR.- This work gives reasons; founded upon the Bible, and assigned bytle miost eminent Divines and Christian Philosophers, for the great and all-absorbing events recorded in the History of the Bible; the Life-ofour Saviour, and the'Acts of His Apostles. - - Why did the first patriarchs attain such extreme long- Why'was the term of lifSafterwardsshorteed? Iwy. was Sauw/,-wo -was a,bad -man, selected as t'/e first ':fne oflsriae/7' " v t , .... . Why are theejseerj mtanizfest tariations in names,facts, , and dates, between te books of Kings and Chronwcles? Why is the book .of the Prophecies of Isaiah, a strong prof of the authenticity of the whole'Bible? *' Why did the ancients strewt ashes upon their heads as a. token of, mournng? ' . . - Why did our Saviour receive the name of Jesus? Why did John the 'Baptist hesitate io adminzster the rite -of Baptism' to Jesus . Tlhils. volumei answers 1,493 similar questions . , , * ' * The Publishers have in their possession numerous testimonials from the principal clergymen of all 'dnomina- tiotns, is -thoe UfiitedPStates and Oanada, "recommending the BIBLICAL REASON WHY to' the nattention Of SuNDAx !SanooL'Tsaonzss, oaHads oftFamilies, andalli Biblical Students, as a work peculiarly adpted- to the popular compre- ;Hensioh,'aiild desifhed to'familiarize the general mind with the real significatlon of all the more obscure passages in our iEnglish tranlatiqps of/the Old and New Testaments; and in every instance, they are the honest convictions formed after an actual perual of the volume itself. ; The i:Reason :Why: Natural History. By the' author of 'Inquire Within," "The Biblical Reason Why," &c. 12mo., cloth, gilt side and back, PRIOE;ONE DOLiLAR.\ (Giving reasons for hundreds of interesting facts in connection with' Zoology, and throwing a light upon the peculiar habits and instincts of the various Orders of the Animal Kingdom. f , " ' E ' ?EXAMPLE. ' Why has the lion such a large mane? Why .does the otter, when hunting for fish, swim against the stream? Why do dogs turn around two or three times before they lie down? : Why have flat fishes their upper sides dark, and their 'undr sides white ' ' ' Why do sporting dogs make what is termed "a point?" Why do birds otten roost upon one leg? Why do frogs keep their mouths closed while breathing? Why do cats, when being played with, Le on their backs, seize the hand of the person playing with them with their fore paws, and strike with their hindfeei i' Why does the wren build several nesis,but occupy only one? T his volume answers about 1,500, smilar questions, Each of these Volumes, as well as answering the numerous Questions, communicates Thousands 'of Facts, the whole being ALPHABETICALLY INDEXED for immediate reference. I' Copies of either of the above books sent to any address in the United States or aanada, fee of postge. Cend ,ash orders to TG E , T * f ' o eea ' S" - . DICK & FITZGERALD, 18 Ann Street, New York.
