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"In England, perhaps," replied De Launay, ' “I'll tell you !" sternly replied Burns; “it somewhat displeased at being interrupted.
"You are wrong, sir ; it was in France, that “Father, for Heaven's sake, stop!” cried Fancountry so proud of its high state of civiliza- ny, throwing herself into his arms, and intertion. I was nearly assassinated twelve years rupting him. “Stop, as you value your child !"
and she sank insensibly on his shoulders. • Indeed! How did it happen?”
"Her father! he-her father! great God! 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. “Mine is a very simple, straightforward tale, Miss Morpeth was carried to her chamber. A though it is one I can never forget, or cease to violent fever, accompanied by spasms, was the feel, since it has had an effect both upon my immediate consequence, and a surgeon was inhealth and fortune. Having disembarked at stantly sent for from the neighboring town. 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 father took advantage of the opportunity to enter on to Paris by post. I was quite alone, and car- the next room, where he had a letter to finish. rioda pocket-book containing 400,000 francs in Scarcely had he begun the task when the door bank-bills. In the course of our journey we had opened quietly, and De Launay entered. The to cross the sands of St. Michael.”
first impulse of Burns was anger and indignation; At the mention of this, De Launay started, but when he saw the humble, the self-abased atand turned deadly pale. He lent his undivided titude of the young surgeon, who approached attention, while the Englishman, who had closely him as one conscious of his own degraded posiwatched him, continued
tion, the good-hearted Englishman checked the " When we arrived at this spot the shades of harsh term which was already on his tongue, and night had already begun to obscure the horizon. awaited the address of the intruder. The damp sand returned no echo to the footfall “My visit is unexpected," murmured Edward, of the horses or the roll of the wheels. The in a low voice. white surf of the receding tide, the murmur of “It is true; assassins are usually more pruthe waves, the wildness of the scene, threw me dent.” into a deep reverie. Suddenly we came in view "Were I one I might be so. I came to offer of a rock which stands boldly in the middle of you a full explanation." the beach, like an Egyptian pyramid. I lowered Mr. Burns was silent, but cast a look of doubt the glass, and asked the name; the postillion on the young Frenchman. turned round and replied, “The Irglas ;' scarcely “Nay, sir, you will have no cause to disbewas the word uttered when he fell from his lieve my statement. I confess myself to be, if horse, struck down by a ruffian, whom I now not exactly criminal, yet quite culpable enough clearly perceived. I instantly jumped from the to satisfy the malice of my bitterest enemy. As carriage. In another instant a blow from an to any participation in the crime of which you unseen hand laid me senseless, bathed in my were the victim, these certificates will exempt me, blood."
since they prove that I was employed on board a A general murmur went round the auditors. frigate in the South Seas at the time the misforDa Launay stood like a statue, immovable, and as tune happened to you.” And he laid some offipale as death.
cial documents before Mr. Burns, who expressed “When again recovered, I found myself in a some suspicion at this testimony in favor of him fishermin's hut. He had discovered me appa- he had supposed to have been an assassin, and rently without life, and having transported me to he cautiously demanded his cottage, had taken care of me. The postillion “Whence, then, this cameo? You appeared was found quite dead and the carriage rifled.” evidently overcome by my late recital. Though
“And have you never been able to trace the you did not commit the deed, I fear you were assassins ?" asked several voices.
cognizant of it." "As yet all attempts to do so have failed. I “I was aware of it.” think, however, I have at length discovered al “You gave this brooch to my daughter, as a clew," and he looked straight at De Launay ; trinket belonging to your family; am I, then, to “ one of the objects stolen was a jewel-case, con- understand that it was a member of—" taining several rich trinkets of peculiar make;! “By no means," interrupted Edward, “my among others a brooch, the very counterpart of family has always been honorable and honored." the one I now hold in my hand."
"Unfortunate young man! how, then, have In an instant every one was busily engaged in you become an accomplice?" examining the brooch, of which Mr. Burns still “By inheritance. Listen, sir; I will hide retained possession. One individual alone seem- nothing from you." And he at once stated the ed indifferent to the subject, Edward de Launay, whole truth to Mr. Burns. When it was conwho, evidently fainting, was leaning against the cluded, the Englishman pondered; but ere he opposite wall.
had time to speak, De Launay rose, and added, * Good Heaven! see, what is the matter with Your four hundred thousand francs are placed Monsieur de Launay? What can this mean?” in the funds. Here are the vouchers : I have cried a well-intentioned friend.
| by this act transferred them to your name; and Vol. IX.-No. 54 -3 D
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." | Franctic almost to madness, her father rushed
"Sir, this extraordinary explanation, this sud- toward her, and attempted to tear her away; den restitution of property, lost, but for you, for- then turning to the young Frenchman, he raised ever, has filled me with such conflicting ideas, his hand as if about to strike him. that I scarcely know whether to reproach you or “Stay, sir! I can permit no violence. Fear load you with grateful acknowledgments. I can not that I am about to rob you of this angel. No, not, however, conceal from you that I think you sir ; you ought to have known me better. Rehave committed a great fault."
move your daughter quietly, but quickly. Can "Say crime; crime is the word. I was too not you see I am dying ?” weak. It is true I strove with the tempter for the lovely girl uttered a piercing cry, and some time after the death of Cranon ; but, alas! | clung still closer to him. He looked up; he the evil spirit, Ambition, was too strong, and I smiled; he attempted to draw her closer to his fell a victim to it. I obtained the treasure I breast as his head fell on her marble shoulder. sought; but it has been at the expense of peace De Launay was no more ! and repose ; for, since the moment I became possessed of it, I have not known a happy hour.”
THE NEWCOMES.* For a moment the miserable young man seem- MEMOIRS OF A MOST RESPECTABLE FAMILY. ed racked with pain ; but after an instant's pause
BY W. M. THACKERAY. he continued“But I will not trouble you further. I have,
CHAPTER XXXVI. perhaps, already said too much. I will now re IN WHICH M. DE FLORAC IS PROMOTED. tire; most probably we shall never meet again." | UTOWEVER much Madame la Duchesse d'Ivry He took a pace toward the door, then stopped, 11 was disposed to admire and praise her own and in a voice of humble appeal, again addressed conduct in the affair which ended so unfortuthe Englishman—"No, sir, you will never see
nately for poor me more; this farewell may be looked upon as
Lord Kew, bethe farewell of a dying man. Oh, sir, if I dared
tween whom to ask it, dared to hope for it-one single word
and the Gascon with her before we part forever. But no; I see
her grace vowyou think me unworthy of this happiness. I go,"
ed that she had and he was turning to leave, as Fanny suddenly
done every threw open the door, and appeared before them.
thing in her “What do you here? Begone! return to
power to preyour room, I insist."
vent a battle, " Ah, sir; you deny me this last consolation,
the old Duke, this fieeting happiness!” He turned to Fanny.
her lord, was, “You shed tears. May Heaven bless you! My
it appeared, by prayers shall follow you, though I shall never
no means de behold you more."
lighted with “I have heard all,” sobbed Miss Morpeth.
his wife's be“ You then despise me?"
havior, nay, “No, not so !" cried the wretched girl, and,
visited her with flying to him, she threw herself into his arms. his very sternest displeasure. Miss O'Grady, the For a moment their mingled sobs could only be Duchesse's companion, and her little girl's instructheard. Mr. Burns approached to separate them, ress, at this time resigned her functions in the Ivry when Fanny, suddenly disengaging herself, stood family ; it is possible that in the recriminations erect before him, and sternly exclaimed
consequent upon the governess's dismissal, the “Father, I have sworn to be his!"
Miss Irlandaise, in whom the family had put so “Are you distracted ?"
much confidence, divulged stories unfayorable to “I will keep my vow. I am his forever!” her patroness, and caused the indignation of the
“Sir, as you value your life, give up my Duke, her husband. Between Florac and the daughter,” and he approached De Launay Duchesse there was also open war and rupture.
“Stay!" suddenly cried Fanny, her feelings He had been one of Kew's seconds in the latter's wrought up to a point of excitement almost be affair with the Vicomte's countryman. He had yond endurance, and suddenly throwing herself even cried out for fresh pistols and proposed to on her knees between them, she burst into tears. engage Castillonnes when his gallant principal “Stay, father! I have been your child, your af- fell; and though a second duel was luckily avertfectionate child. I have loved, I have venerated ed as murderous and needless, M. de Florac never you ; but from this moment Edward is my hus- hesitated afterward and in all companies to deband. Cast him off, if you will; I will follow nounce with the utmost virulence the instigator him; I will share his exile, and endeavor to con- and the champion of the odious original quarrel. sole him for your unkindness. In misery, in He vowed that the Duchesse had shot le petit illness, in poverty, I am his forever. Renounce Kiou as effectually as if she had herself fired the me, if you will ; nothing shall change my pur * Continued from the October Number.
pistol at his breast. Murderer, poisoner, Brin- ! There is this at least to be said, that if the Duc villiers, a hundred more such epithets he used d'Ivry did die he was a very old gentleman, and against his kinswoman, regretting that the good had been a great viveur for at least threescore old times were past-that there was no Chambre years of his life. As Prince de Moncontour in Ardente to try her, and no rack and wheel to give his father's time before the Revolution, during her her due.
the Emigration, even after the Restoration M. le The biographer of the Newcomes has no need Duc had vécu with an extraordinary vitality. He (although he possesses the fullest information) to had gone through good and bad fortune ; extreme touch upon the Duchesse's doings, further than as poverty, display and splendor, affairs of love-afthey relate to that most respectable English fam- | fairs of honor-and of one disease or another a ily. When the Duke took his wife into the man must die at the end. After the Baden busicountry, Floraç never hesitated to say that to live ness—and he had dragged off his wife to Chamwith her was dangerous for the old man, and to pagne—the Duke became greatly broken; he cry out to his friends of the Boulevards or the brought his little daughter to a convent at Paris, Jockey Club, “ Ma parole d'honneur, cette fem- putting the child under the special guardianship me la tuera!"
of Madame de Florac, with whom and with whose Do you know, O gentle and unsuspicious read-family in these latter days the old chief of the ers, or have you ever reckoned as you have made house effected a complete reconciliation. The your calculation of society, how many most re- Duke was now forever coming to Madame de spectable husbands help to kill their wives—how Florac; he poured all his wrongs and griefs into many respectable wives aid in sending their hus- her ear with garrulous senile eagerness. “That bands to Hades? The wife of a chimney-sweep little Duchesse is a Médée, a monstre, a femme or a journeyman butcher comes shuddering before d’Eugène Sue," the Vicomte used to say ; "the a police magistrate-her head bound up-her poor old Duke he cry—ma parole d'honneur, he body scarred and bleeding with wounds, which cry and I cry too when he comes to recount to the drunken ruffian, her lord, has administered: my poor mother, whose sainted heart is the asile a poor shopkeeper or mechanic is driven out of of all griefs, a real Hôtel Dieu, my word the most his home by the furious ill-temper of the shrill sacred, with beds for all the afflicted, with sweet virago his wife-takes to the public-house-to words, like Sisters of Charity, to minister to them evil courses-to neglecting his business-to the -I cry, inon bon Pendennis, when this vieillard gin-bottle-to delirium-tremens — to perdition. tells his stories about his wife and tears his white Bow Street, and policemen, and the newspaper hairs to the feet of my mother." reporters, have cognizance and a certain jurisdic- When the little Antoinette was separated by tion over these vulgar matrimonial crimes; but her father from her mother, the Duchesse d'Ivry, in politer company how many murderous assaults it might have been expected that that poetess are there by husband or wife-where the woman would have dashed off a few more cris de l'âme, is not felled by the actual fist, though she stag- shrieking according to her wont, and baring and gers and sinks under blows quite as cruel and beating that shriveled maternal bosom of hers, effectual; where, with old wounds yet unhealed, from which her child had been just torn. The which she strives to hide under a smiling face child skipped and laughed to go away to the confrom the world, she has to bear up and to be vent. It was only when she left Madame de stricken down and to rise to her feet again, under | Florac that she used to cry; and when urged by fresh daily strokes of torture ; where the husband, that good lady to exhibit a little decorous sentifond and faithful, has to suffer slights, coldness, ment in writing to her mamma, Antoinette would insult, desertion, his children sneered away from ask, in her artless way, * Pourquoi ? Mamma used their love for him, his friends driven from his never to speak to me except sometimes before the door by jealousy, his happiness strangled, his world, before ladies that understands itself. When whole life embittered, poisoned, destroyed! If her gentleman came, she put me to the door; she you were acquainted with the history of every gave me tapes, o oui, she gave me tapes! I cry family in your street, don't you know that in two no more; she has so much made to cry M. le Duc, or three of the houses there such tragedies have that it is quite enough of one in a family.” So been playing? Is not the young mistress of Madame la Duchesse d'Ivry did not weep, even Number 20 already pining at her husband's de- in print, for the loss of her pretty little Antoinsertion? The kind master of Number 30 racking ette; besides, she was engaged, at that time, by his fevered brains and toiling through sleepless other sentimental occupations. A young grazier nights to pay for the jewels on his wife's neck, of their neighboring town, of an aspiring mind and the carriage out of which she ogles Lothario and remarkable poetic talents, engrossed the Duchin the park? The fate under which man or wo-esse's platonic aflections at this juncture. When man falls, blow of brutal tyranny, heartless de- he had sold his beasts at market, he would ride sertion, weight of domestic care too heavy to bear over and read Rousseau and Schiller with Ma
are not blows such as these constantly striking dame la Duchesse, who formed him. His pretty people down! In this long parenthesis we are young wife was rendered miserable by all these wandering ever so far away from M. le Duc and readings, but what could the poor little ignorant Madame la Duchesse d'Ivry, and from the viva-countrywoman know of Platonism? Faugh! cious Florac's statement regarding his kinsman, there is more than one woman we see in society that that woman will kill him.
smiling about from house to house, pleasant and
sentimental and formosa supernè enough; but I | ing boys was led away. They understood very fancy a fish's tail is flapping under her fine well who the personage was who had come to flounces, and a forked fin at the end of it! disturb the matrimonial ceremony; it did not
commence until Mrs. De Lacy (as this lady chose Finer founces, finer bonnets, more lovely to be called), had quitted this temple of Hymen. wreaths, more beautiful lace, smarter carriages, She slunk through the throng of emblazoned carbigger white bows, larger footmen, were not seen, riages, and the press of footmen arrayed as splenduring all the season of 18–, than appeared round didly as Solomon in his glory. John jeered at about St. George's, Hanover Square, in the beau-Thomas, William turned his powdered head, and tiful month of June succeeding that September signaled Jeames, who answered with a cortewhen so many of our friends, the Newcomes, sponding grin, as the woman with sobs, and wild were assembled at Baden. Those flaunting car- imprecations, and frantic appeals, made her way riages, powdered and favored footmen, were in through the splendid crowd, escorted by her aidsattendance upon members of the Newcome fam- de-camp in blue. I dare say her little history ily and their connections, who were celebrating was discussed at many a dinner-table that day in what is called a marriage in high life in the tem- the basement story of several fashionable houses. ple within. Shall we set down a catalogue of I know that at clubs in St. James's, the facetious the dukes, marquises, earls, who were present; little anecdote was narrated. A young fellow cousins of the lovely bride? Are they not al. came to Bays's after the marriage breakfast and ready in the Morning Herald, and Court Jour mentioned the circumstance with funny comnal, as well as in the Newcome Chronicle and ments; although the Morning Post, in describing Independent, and the Dorking Intelligencer and this affair in high life, naturally omitted all menChanticleer Weekly Gazette? There they are, tion of such low people as Mrs. De Lacy and her all printed at full length sure enough; the name children of the bride, Lady Clara Pulleyn, the lovely and Those people who knew the noble families accomplished daughter of the Earl and Countess whose union had been celebrated by such a proof Dorking; of the beautiful bridesmaids, the fusion of grandees, fine equipages, and footmen, Ladies Henrietta Belinda Adelaide Pulleyn, Miss brass bands, brilliant toilets, and wedding favors, Newcome, Miss Alice Newcome, Miss Maude asked how it was that Lord Kew did not assist Newcome, Miss Anna Maria (Hodson) New at Barnes Newcome's marriage: other persons come; and all the other persons engaged in the in society inquired waggishly why Jack Belsize ceremony. It was performed by the Right Hon- was not present to give Lady Clara away. orable Viscount Gallowglass, Bishop of Bally-! As for Jack Belsize, his clubs had not been shannon, brother-in-law to the bride, assisted by ornamented hy his presence for a year past. It the Honorable and Reverend Hercules O'Grady, was said he had broken the bank at Hombourg his lordship's Chaplain, and the Reverend John last autumn; had been heard of during the winBulders, Rector of St. Mary's, Newcome. Then ter at Milan, Venice, and Vienna; and when a follow the names of all the nobility who were few months after the marriage of Barnes Newpresent, and of the noble and distinguished per- come and Lady Clara, Jack's elder brother died, sonages who signed the book. Then comes an and he himself became the next in succession to account of the principal dresses, chefs-d'æuvre of the title and estates of Highgate, many folks said Madame Crinoline; of the bride's coronal of brill- it was a pity little Barney's marriage had taken iants, supplied by Messrs. Morr and Stortimer; I place so soon. Lord Kew was not present, beof the vail of priceless Chantilly lace, the gift of cause Kew was still abroad; he had had a gamthe Dowager Countess of Kew. Then there is a bling duel with a Frenchman, and a narrow squeak description of the wedding breakfast at the house for his life. He had turned Roman Catholic, of the bride's noble parents, and of the cake, dec- some men said; others vowed that he had joined erated by Messrs. Gunter with the most delicious the Methodist persuasiorr. At all events Kew taste and the sweetest hymenial allusions. had given up his wild courses, broken with the
No mention was made by the fashionable chron- turf, and sold his stud off; he was delicate yet, icler, of a slight disturbance which occurred at and his mother was taking care of him; between St. George's, and which indeed was out of the whom and the old dowager of Kew, who had province of such a genteel purveyor of news. made up Barney's marriage, as every body knew, Before the marriage service began, a woman of there was no love lost. vulgar appearance, and disorderly aspect, accom- Then who was the Prince de Moncontour, who, panied by two scared children who took no part with his princess, figured at this noble marriage? in the disorder occasioned by their mother's pro- There was a Moncontour, the Duc d'Ivry's son, ceeding, except by their tears and outcries to but he died at Paris before the revolution of '30 : augment the disquiet, made her appearance in one or two of the oldsters at Bays's, Major Penone of the pews of the church, was noted there dennis, General Tufto, old Cackleby—the old by persons in the vestry, was requested to retire fogies in a word — remembered the Duke of by a beadle, and was finally induced to quit the Ivry when he was here during the Emigration, sacred precincts of the building by the very stron- and when he was called Prince de Moncontour, gest persuasion of a couple of policemen; X and the title of the eldest son of the family. Ivry Y laughed at one another, and nodded their heads was dead, having buried his son before him, and knowingly as the poor wretch with her whimper- having left only a daughter by that young woman whom he married, and who led him such a life., well furnished with the current coin of the realm. Who was this present Moncontour?
Without making any show of wealth, he would, He was a gentleman to whom the reader has at first, cheerfully engage in our little parties : already been presented, though when we lately his lodgings in the neighborhood of Leicester saw him at Baden, he did not enjoy so magnifi- Square, though dingy, were such as many noble cent a title. Early in the year of Barnes New. foreign exiles have inhabited. It was not until come's marriage, there came to England, and to he refused to join some pleasure-trip which we our modest apartment in the Temple, a gentle- of Lamb Court proposed, honestly confessing his man bringing a letter of recommendation from poverty, that we were made aware of the Viaur dear young Clive, who said that the bearer, comte's little temporary calamity; and, as we the Vicomte de Florac, was a great friend of his, became more intimate with him, he acquainted and of the Colonel's, who had known his family us, with great openness, with the history of all from boyhood. A friend of our Clive and our his fortunes. He described energetically that Colonel was sure of a welcome in Lamb Court; splendid run of luck which had set in at Baden we gave him the hand of hospitality, thc best with Clive's loan; his winnings, at that fortunate cigar in the box, the easy chair with only one period, had carried him through the winter with broken leg; the dinner in chambers and at the considerable brilliancy; but Bouillotte and Madeclub, the banquet at Greenwich (where, ma foi, moiselle Atala, of the Variétés (une ogresse, mon the little whites baits elicited his profound satis- cher ! who devours thirty of our young men every faction); in a word, did our best to honor that year in her cavern, in the Rue de Bréda), had bill which our young Clive had drawn upon us. declared against him, and the poor Vicomte's We considered the young one in the light of a pockets were almost empty when he came to nephew of our own; we took a pride in him, and London. were fond of him; and as for the Colonel, did He was amiably communicative regarding himwe not love and honor him; would we not do self, and told us his virtues and his faults (if inour utmost in behalf of any stranger who came deed a passion for play and for women could be recommended to us by Thomas Newcome's good considered as faults in a gay young fellow of two word? So Florac was straightway adinitted to or three-and-forty), with a like engaging frankour companionship. We showed him the town, ness. He would weep in describing his angel and some of the modest pleasures thereof; we mother: he would fly off again into tirades reintroduced him to the Haunt, and astonished him specting the wickedness, the wit, the extravaby the company which he met there. Between gance, the charms of the young lady of the VaBrent's “Deserter," and Mark Wilders “Garry- riétés. He would then (in conversation) introowen,” Florac sang
duce us to Madame de Florac, née Higg, of ManTiens voici ma pipe, voila mon bri--vuet ; chesterre. His prattle was incessant, and to my Et quand la Tulipe fait le noir trajet
friend Mr. Warrington especially, he was an obQue tu sois la seule dans le régi--ment
ject of endless delight, and amusement, and wonAvec la brûle-gueule, de ton cher r'a-mant ;
der. He would roll and smoke countless paper to the delight of Tom Sarjent, who, though he segars, talking unrestrainedly when we were not only partially comprehended the words of the busy, silent when we were engaged: he would song, pronounced the singer to be a rare gentle- only rarely partake of our meals, and altogether man, full of most excellent differences. We took refused all offers of pecuniary aid. He disapour Florac to the Derby; we presented him in peared at dinner-time into the mysterious purFitzroy Square, whither we still occasionally went, lieus of Leicester Square, and dark ordinaries for Clive's and our dear Colonel's sake.
only frequented by Frenchmen. As we walked The Vicomte pronounced himself strongly in with him in the Regent Street precincts, he favor of the blanche misse, dittle Rosy Mackenzie, would exchange marks of recognition with many of whom we have lost sight for some few chap-dusky personages, smoking bravos, and whiskered ters. Mrs. Mac he considered, my faith, to be a refugees of his nation. " That gentleman,” he woman superb. He used to kiss the tips of his would say, “ who has done me the honor to saown fingers, in token of his admiration for the lute me, is a coiffeur of the most celebrated; he lovely widow; he pronounced her again and again forms the délices of our table d'hôte. •Bon jour, more pretty than her daughter; and paid her a thou- mon cher monsieur! We are friends, though sand compliments which she received with ex- not of the same opinion. Monsieur is a republiceeding good humor. If the Vicomte gave us to can of the most distinguished; conspirator of understand presently, that Rosy and her mother profession, and at this time engaged in constructwere both in love with him, but that for all the ing an infernal machine to the address of His world he would not meddle with the happiness Majesty, Louis Philippe, King of the French.” of his dear little Clive, nothing unfavorable to the “Who is my friend with the scarlet beard and character or constancy of the before-mentioned the white paletôt ?” “My good Warrington ! ladies must be inferred from M. de Florac's speech; you do not move in the world: you make yourhis firm conviction being, that no woman could self a hermit, my dear! Not know Monsieur! pass many hours in his society without danger to Monsieur is secretary to Mademoiselle Caracoher subsequent peace of mind.
Line, the lovely rider at the circus of Astley ; I For some little time we had no reason to sus shall be charmed to introduce you to this amiable pect that our French friend was not particularly society some day at our table d'hôte." euros