left me the sole possessor of this important se-1 in the neighborhood of the Black Forest, is one cret." Notwithstanding all his endeavors to appear indifferent, De Launay had listened with deep attention to Cranon's recital. When he had ceased to speak, the young man remained perfectly silent for some time, seeming to balance in his own mind the probability of the story he had just heard. Casting his eyes up for a single moment, he found those of the prisoner fixed on him. He blushed, and starting from his reverie, said, with an air of forced levity, which his former attention but too fully belied "Your story is well invented, but the theme is old. It won't do. These hidden treasures are a hackneyed subject, which even children laugh at now. Try and get up a better-a more probable of the most picturesque spots on the continent of Europe. Nature seems here to have taken a strange delight in amassing her richest charms, and concentrating her every beauty within a single valley. As its name indicates, Badenwiller boasts mineral baths, famed from the earliest ages. The bathers who lodged at the "Ville de Carlsruhe," the best hotel in the place, were assembled beneath a little grove of acacias planted in the garden of the inn. Madame Perschof, with her only unmarried daughter, had just joined the group, from which the young bachelors shrunk with terror at the approach of this regular husband-hunting dame, who, having managed to procure partners for her three elder damsels elsewhere, had come hither for the purpose of en The convict shuddered. "You do not believe trapping another son-in-law. After a short salume?" "I believe you to be a clever rogue, who might, perhaps, succeed in deceiving one less wary than myself." tation to each of the company, the match-making parent sat down, and having made her spinster child take a place next to her-for caution is always commendable in prudent mammas at strange "Mon-watering-places-the conversation, which had been interrupted for a moment by her arrival, again went on. Cranon threw himself on his knees. sieur de Launay, for the love of God, believe me! I speak the truth; I can instantly find the spot, if you will only let me go and search for it."" "I will save you that trouble." 'Nay, then, I will give you two-thirds, two full thirds." Cranon uttered a wild scream of despair, and threw himself on the ground again. The convict now rolled himself over in agonizing misery; he groaned in mental torture. De Launay seemed perplexed; an inward struggle agitated his bosom. Bad passions began to spring up and shake his purpose. On the one hand, his violent desire for riches made him almost hope the tale he had just heard were true, and in this case he would not hesitate to accept the prisoner's proposals; on the other hand, he feared he might be duped, and become a laughing-stock, despised, disgraced, for thus conniving at the escape of a convict. This last reflection overcame his every other feeling. He started up, and attempted, but without success, to drag Cranon toward the entrance. Foiled in this, he darted through the door, which he double-locked upon the prisoner, and rushing to the guard-house, obtained the assistance of a file of soldiers. As he was unlocking the door, in company with the assistants he had brought, a sudden shot was fired; at the same moment a man stripped perfectly naked, covered with blood, bounded past him. It was Cranon, who, during his momentary absence had jumped out of the window, and been wounded by the sentinel on duty. The unhappy man staggered a few paces, reeled, and fell a corpse into the arms of De Launay. Badenwiller, an inconsiderable watering-place "I must confess," said a fat old lady, who occupied three chairs, "I must confess that the conduct of this Miss Morpeth is most strange. I can not make out her coming here with a sort of a governess, traveling about unprotected in a strange country." "Oh, that is nothing," interrupted a pseudoblue-stocking lady. "I know the customs of these islanders well; for my husband subscribes to the British reading-room at Frankfort; and I can assure you that English young ladies always travel alone, or with their lovers." "How very immoral!" exclaimed Madame Perschof. "And this Englishman, this Mr. Burns, who follows the young lady about to every place she visits? It is all very well for her to call him an old friend of the family; but I know better than that. I've watched his attentions, and I am sure he is a lover. But he is old enough to be her father." "So much the more likely to be a gallant. She is just the girl an elderly man would admire. I will be bound to say Mr. Burns is rich." How very horrible !" cried Madame Perschof. "I am but a poor lone widow; but if I had a child like Miss Morpeth-" 66 "Yes, but you don't understand the character of these English," again chimed in the bluestocking. England is a free country; they have their 'habeas corpus,' and their hustings, which decidedly affect their manners." "That is all very possible, though I don't understand it. But this I do know, the girl is a coquette, and has managed to turn Monsieur de Launay's head-a young man who might aspire to a far more beautiful and accomplished creature." And Madame Perschof looked approvingly at her buckram daughter. "Hush!” cried the fat lady; "here he comes." As she spoke, Edward de Launay approached. | the young lady. As far as I am concerned, mere Apparently preoccupied by unpleasant reflections, statement is not sufficient." he allowed the gesture of Madame Perschof to pass unheeded, although that gesture conveyed a direct invitation to the favored gentleman to take a seat next to her fair daughter; but taking his place at some distance from the rest of the company, he turned silently away, without deigning to cast another look on the fair Madame Perschof, and thus offended the worthy mamma, who, with some little acerbity, asked, "How it was that Monsieur de Launay was not on duty, keeping guard over the lovely Fanny Morpeth?" "Miss Morpeth does not go out to-day: she is far from well." "Indeed! I think you are wrong. I am almost sure I saw her pass some hours ago." "I learned this from Miss Morpeth herself, in answer to a solicitation on my part to accompany her on an excursion we had planned last evening." 66 ing." Sir, this language, these doubts are insult "Rather call it prudence." "By what right do you thus dare either to question or disbelieve me? You are a stranger to me yourself; I know not who you are.” "A friend, warmly interested in the young lady's welfare; nothing more." "In my turn, may I not re-echo your doubts? may I not declare such an explanation to be wholly unsatisfactory ?" "Sir, you will remember that I never sought this interview. You chose to make me your confidant; it was a post I did not seek. I have told you all I intend to tell you. If this does not suit you, I wish you a good morning." At this moment Miss Morpeth appeared. "I come, my dear, I come," said the Englishman; and he instantly joined Fanny, leaving De "Is it so? Then you are not the favored one Launay to his further reflections: Whether Miss I thought you. Behold!" And, with a glance of triumph, Madame Perschof pointed to Miss Morpeth, who just then entered the grove mounted on a donkey. She had evidently returned from a long country ramble. Mr. Burns accompanied her on foot. De Launay started up, while his countenance betrayed surprise and mortification. Miss Morpeth blushed, and, hurrying past, entered the hotel without speaking to any one. Mr. Burns was following her, when De Launay, seizing him by the arm, begged for a few minutes' private conversation. The Englishman instantly assented, and they at once sought the retirement of the neighboring wood. Suddenly De Launay stopped. Morpeth was a heartless coquette who had played with his affections? By what tie she was bound to the laconic Englishman? Had the young surgeon's vanity misconstrued her good nature, and magnified her simple civilities into encouragement? Was the whole a dream? or was she really attached to him? For the life of him, De Launay could not decide in his own mind. When De Launay saw Miss Morpeth in the evening, he assumed all the coldness, the distance of an injured lover. He even attempted to conceal his jealousy by appearing to flirt with Mademoiselle Perschof, to the no small delight of her proud mamma, who occasionally came to the relief of her blushing daughter by a chance allusion to her uncle the burgomaster, a hint "You doubtless know my reason for thus seek- about family portraits, and a mere glance at her ing a private interview?" 66 Perhaps I do." "I am a member of one of the oldest families in Brittany. My father, who commanded a frigate, died at Brest. Left an orphan at fifteen years of age, I became a surgeon in the French navy, a service I only quitted a year and a half ago. As to my fortune," and here his voice trembled as he added, "I possess four hundred thousand francs, of which I can give positive proof." "All these assertions would doubtless be of great interest, and have their proper weight with child's great accomplishments. Fanny looked grave, but not angry. Day after day rolled past; her melancholy seemed to increase, an anxious excitement lighted her countenance, and on more than one occasion De Launay saw her rush with peevish impatience to meet the man who was employed to bring the letters to the hotel. At length the wished-for epistle reached her hands. Pale as marble, she received one morning a packet bearing the postmark "Brest," and with trembling haste she flew to Mr. Burns, to whom it was directed, as if her whole existence depended on the contents of that missive. De Launay saw this, and again his jealous fears were roused. In misery and anger he rushed from the house, and entering the wellshrubberied garden, threw himself on one of the benches, where, unseen by any one, he might mentally review his misfortunes, jealous lest some prying eye should read his thoughts, and discover the pain he felt at being thus slighted, cast off, in favor of another. Here he had not sat long, when a fairy hand was placed on his shoulder, and the well-known tones of his loved Fanny was heard to utter his name. He started up: it was no vision. There stood the girl he loved, smiling on him with pure affection; there | before him was the rapturous gaze of her, who, while she offered him one of her lovely hands as a token of restored affection, held up to his view, with tantalizing archness, the very letter which had caused him so much uneasiness. They exchanged a single sentence, and were again the fondest, the most affectionate of lovers. A few more words, and, without alluding to its contents, Miss Morpeth handed him the letter, which he eagerly read. "TO MR. BURNS. summoned them to their evening repast ere they too. Promise to see me here again at the same me. But stay-a happy idea-bear some token that will remind you of me in my absence." "That is unnecessary, Edward." "Nay, nay, not so; it will please me-here." And he took a small casket from his pocket. "The cameo has long been in our family: accept it as a token that my parent now looks down from heaven on our love." "SIR-I have, as directed, made every inquiry relative to the person you mention. He is And he fastened the rich ornament in hef the only son of the late Captain de Launay, who died in this city in 1820. His Christian name is scarf. In truth, I must confess I believe he imEdward. He became a naval surgeon-appoint-printed a chaste kiss on the fair cheek of her he ed five years ago as assistant in the Bagne quitted on the 8th of April last year, having, it is said, inherited a large fortune from a distant relation-name unknown. Bears a good char-bled together in a little knot, talking of some dis acter, and said to be skillful. Description copied from the police-office, as per margin. "Your obedient and humble servants, In an instant the blood rushed into the face of the indignant young man. "Am I to be made the object of inquiries like these? Never, never! If it is at such a priceif I am to be taken only on the faith of such documents as these, to become the husband of Miss Morpeth, ten thousand times will I rather renounce them than be the pointed object of suspicion." "Edward! this from you?" "Alas! it will break my heart; but by heaven it shall not pass unpunished. I will seek out this officious Englishman." "Stay, you know not what you do." "Ay, but too well do I know that he is your lover." "On my soul, not so." "Tell me then, tell me, I conjure you, how is it that he is thus mixed up in your welfare?" "Nay, I beseech you, inquire not. After tomorrow I pledge myself to clear up this mystery. Suffice it to say at present, he is a relative, a near and dear relative, whose name must remain concealed for a few days, till the fate of an officer he has wounded be ascertained. Wait but a little, dearest Edward, and there shall be no con cealment between us." The term, "dearest Edward," at once softened the young Frenchman. The half explanation, the assurance that Mr. Burns was a relative pleased him; and though he thought it dignified to keep up a small degree of apparent rancor about the letter, the contents of which, after all, were not disagreeable, De Launay felt perfectly happy. It is not, therefore, to be wondered at that, in less than ten minutes, the said letter, Mr. Burns, Mademoiselle Perschof, and the whole world were forgotten. To their great surprise, the bell sounded, and adored, as he entered with her into the saloon in which the evening meal was served. The greater number of persons were assem portion were expressing their terror at the dan coveries lately made in Africa; while the female gers which every man must incur who travels through an uncivilized country. This little coterie Edward instantly joined, and was soon mixed up in their conversation; while Miss Morpeth approached Mr. Burns, who sat at the opposite end of the room, apparently in a deep reverie. As Fanny drew near to him, he rose, and advanced to meet her. Scarcely, however, had he taken a single pace toward her, than, starting back with a look of horror, pointing, at the same time, to the brooch she had just received, he said "Where did you get that ornament?" The poor girl blushed. She had unconsciously betrayed her secret. "Where did you get that brooch?" repeated Mr. Burns, in a tone of extreme agitation; "where did you purchase it?" "It was a present." "From whom?" Fanny was silent. "Doubtlessly from Monsieur de Launay? Ah, it is so, is it? Then are my worst fears confirmed." "I do not understand you." "Allow me to look at it." She handed it to him; he examined it carefully, turned it over several times, then touching a spring at the back, the setting flew open, and discovered some hair placed inside it. "I thought I could not be deceived; and yet his age almost staggers me. Tell me, Miss Morpeth, did Monsieur de Launay state where he obtained this trinket?" The chairs of the ladies were drawn close then I am lost!" and with one bound Edward round the narrator. rushed frantically from the room. Miss Morpeth was carried to her chamber. A violent fever, accompanied by spasms, was the immediate consequence, and a surgeon was instantly sent for from the neighboring town. At "Mine is a very simple, straightforward tale, though it is one I can never forget, or cease to feel, since it has had an effect both upon my health and fortune. Having disembarked at Brest, where we had put in from stress of weath-length she fell into an uneasy slumber, and her er, I determined on proceeding through Brittany on to Paris by post. I was quite alone, and carried a pocket-book containing 400,000 francs in bank-bills. In the course of our journey we had to cross the sands of St. Michael." At the mention of this, De Launay started, and turned deadly pale. He lent his undivided attention, while the Englishman, who had closely watched him, continued "When we arrived at this spot the shades of night had already begun to obscure the horizon. The damp sand returned no echo to the footfall of the horses or the roll of the wheels. The white surf of the receding tide, the murmur of the waves, the wildness of the scene, threw me into a deep reverie. Suddenly we came in view of a rock which stands boldly in the middle of the beach, like an Egyptian pyramid. I lowered the glass, and asked the name; the postillion turned round and replied, 'The Irglas;' scarcely was the word uttered when he fell from his horse, struck down by a ruffian, whom I now clearly perceived. I instantly jumped from the carriage. In another instant a blow from an unseen hand laid me senseless, bathed in my blood." A general murmur went round the auditors. De Launay stood like a statue, immovable, and as pale as death. "When again recovered, I found myself in a fisherman's hut. He had discovered me apparently without life, and having transported me to his cottage, had taken care of me. The postillion was found quite dead and the carriage rifled." "And have you never been able to trace the assassins?" asked several voices. "As yet all attempts to do so have failed. I think, however, I have at length discovered a clew," and he looked straight at De Launay; "one of the objects stolen was a jewel-case, containing several rich trinkets of peculiar make; among others a brooch, the very counterpart of the one I now hold in my hand." In an instant every one was busily engaged in examining the brooch, of which Mr. Burns still retained possession. One individual alone seemed indifferent to the subject, Edward de Launay, who, evidently fainting, was leaning against the opposite wall. "Good Heaven! see, what is the matter with Monsieur de Launay? What can this mean?" cried a well-intentioned friend. VOL. IX.-No. 54-3 D father took advantage of the opportunity to enter the next room, where he had a letter to finish. Scarcely had he begun the task when the door opened quietly, and De Launay entered. The first impulse of Burns was anger and indignation; but when he saw the humble, the self-abased attitude of the young surgeon, who approached him as one conscious of his own degraded position, the good-hearted Englishman checked the harsh term which was already on his tongue, and awaited the address of the intruder. My visit is unexpected," murmured Edward, in a low voice. "It is true; assassins are usually more prudent." "Were I one I might be so. I came to offer you a full explanation." Mr. Burns was silent, but cast a look of doubt on the young Frenchman. As "Nay, sir, you will have no cause to disbelieve my statement. I confess myself to be, if not exactly criminal, yet quite culpable enough to satisfy the malice of my bitterest enemy. to any participation in the crime of which you were the victim, these certificates will exempt me, since they prove that I was employed on board a frigate in the South Seas at the time the misfortune happened to you." And he laid some official documents before Mr. Burns, who expressed some suspicion at this testimony in favor of him he had supposed to have been an assassin, and he cautiously demanded Whence, then, this cameo? You appeared evidently overcome by my late recital. Though you did not commit the deed, I fear you were cognizant of it." here, sir, is the case which contains the rest of | pose;" and she sprang up, and encircled De the property, for which, in an unlucky hour, I Launay with her arms. have bartered honor, life, and happiness." "Sir, this extraordinary explanation, this sudden restitution of property, lost, but for you, forever, has filled me with such conflicting ideas, that I scarcely know whether to reproach you or load you with grateful acknowledgments. I can not, however, conceal from you that I think you have committed a great fault." "Say crime; crime is the word. I was too weak. It is true I strove with the tempter for some time after the death of Cranon; but, alas! the evil spirit, Ambition, was too strong, and I fell a victim to it. I obtained the treasure I sought; but it has been at the expense of peace and repose; for, since the moment I became possessed of it, I have not known a happy hour." For a moment the miserable young man seemed racked with pain; but after an instant's pause he continued "But I will not trouble you further. I have, perhaps, already said too much. I will now re Franctic almost to madness, her father rushed toward her, and attempted to tear her away; then turning to the young Frenchman, he raised his hand as if about to strike him. "Stay, sir! I can permit no violence. Fear not that I am about to rob you of this angel. No, sir; you ought to have known me better. Remove your daughter quietly, but quickly. Can not you see I am dying?" The lovely girl uttered a piercing cry, and clung still closer to him. He looked up; he smiled; he attempted to draw her closer to his breast as his head fell on her marble shoulder. De Launay was no more! THE NEWCOMES.* MEMOIRS OF A MOST RESPECTABLE FAMILY. CHAPTER XXXVI. IN WHICH M. DE FLORAC IS PROMOTED. tire; most probably we shall never meet again." HOW He took a pace toward the door, then stopped, and in a voice of humble appeal, again addressed the Englishman-" No, sir, you will never see me more; this farewell may be looked upon as the farewell of a dying man. Oh, sir, if I dared to ask it, dared to hope for it-one single word with her before we part forever. But no; I see you think me unworthy of this happiness. I go," and he was turning to leave, as Fanny suddenly threw open the door, and appeared before them. "What do you here? Begone! return to your room, I insist." "Ah, sir; you deny me this last consolation, this fleeting happiness!" He turned to Fanny. "You shed tears. May Heaven bless you! My prayers shall follow you, though I shall never behold you more." "I have heard all," sobbed Miss Morpeth. "You then despise me?" "No, not so!" cried the wretched girl, and, flying to him, she threw herself into his arms. For a moment their mingled sobs could only be heard. Mr. Burns approached to separate them, when Fanny, suddenly disengaging herself, stood erect before him, and sternly exclaimed"Father, I have sworn to be his!" "Are you distracted?" I will keep my vow. I am his forever!" "Sir, as you value your life, give up my daughter," and he approached De Launay. "Stay!" suddenly cried Fanny, her feelings wrought up to a point of excitement almost beyond endurance, and suddenly throwing herself on her knees between them, she burst into tears. "Stay, father! I have been your child, your affectionate child. I have loved, I have venerated you; but from this moment Edward is my husband. Cast him off, if you will; I will follow him; I will share his exile, and endeavor to console him for your unkindness. In misery, in illness, in poverty, I am his forever. Renounce me, if you will; nothing shall change my pur TOWEVER much Madame la Duchesse d'Ivry was disposed to admire and praise her own conduct in the affair which ended so unfortunately for poor Lord Kew, between whom and the Gascon her grace vowed that she had done every thing in her power to prevent a battle, the old Duke, her lord, was, it appeared, by no means de lighted with his wife's behavior, nay, visited her with his very sternest displeasure. Miss O'Grady, the Duchesse's companion, and her little girl's instructress, at this time resigned her functions in the Ivry family; it is possible that in the recriminations consequent upon the governess's dismissal, the Miss Irlandaise, in whom the family had put so much confidence, divulged stories unfavorable to her patroness, and caused the indignation of the Duke, her husband. Between Florac and the Duchesse there was also open war and rupture. He had been one of Kew's seconds in the latter's affair with the Vicomte's countryman. He.had even cried out for fresh pistols and proposed to engage Castillonnes when his gallant principal fell; and though a second duel was luckily averted as murderous and needless, M. de Florac never hesitated afterward and in all companies to denounce with the utmost virulence the instigator and the champion of the odious original quarrel. He vowed that the Duchesse had shot le petit Kiou as effectually as if she had herself fired the Continued from the October Number. |