E) RAFLY 
 
 OF THE 
 UN IVERSITY 
 or ILLINOIS 
 
 823 
 
 V.I 
 
l/tyl^ 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2010 with funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/stateprisonertal01boyle 
 
THE 
 
 STATE PRISONER 
 
 A TALE 
 
 THE FRENCH REGENCY. 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON 
 
 SAUNDERS AND OTLEY, CONDUIT STREET. 
 
 1S37. 
 
WHITING, BEAUFORT HOUSE, STRAND. 
 

 MY BELOVED MOTHER, 
 
 THESE PAGES 
 
 ARE GRATEFULLY INSCRIBED, 
 
 MARY LOUISA BOYLE. 
 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 In sending these two volumes forth into the 
 worlds the Author would not venture to try 
 the public patience further, by any thing in 
 the shape of a preface, were it not in some 
 degree necessary to explain, that, besides the 
 historical personages introduced, some of the 
 actors on the scene are not altogether ima- 
 ginary. The general history of Dumont the 
 iState Prisoner, his appearance, manners, and 
 character, his imprisonment at Bordeaux, and 
 treatment there, are all derived from informa- 
 tion, which fell casually in the author's way; 
 but was confirmed by authority that left no 
 doubt of its accuracy. The date of that ex- 
 traordinary man's captivity, indeed, has been 
 
VI PREFACE. 
 
 changed to suit the purposes of the \\Titer; 
 but as his ultimate fate was involved in great 
 mystery^ as well as every circumstance pre- 
 ceding and following a particular epoch in his 
 life^ the Author would not venture to supply 
 from imagination the parts of his story that 
 were wanting, for fear of spoiling, by unskilful 
 additions, a tale which appeared in itself suf- 
 ficiently interesting. It is more than possible, 
 that the manner in which that tale has been 
 told in these pages, the want of skill, and the 
 want of experience of the writer, may have 
 had the effect of lessening the interest, which 
 the real circumstances originally possessed; 
 but the consciousness of inabiUty to do justice 
 to the subject, rendered it the more necessary 
 for the Author not to change the events, more 
 than was absolutely necessary to the plan of 
 the work. 
 
THE 
 
 STATE PRISONER 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 It was towards the close of autumn, in the 
 year of our Lord 1718, that a lonely individual 
 sat in the principal apartment of a lonely 
 house in one of the most lonely parts of the 
 road leading from Perigueux to Bordeaux, and 
 at the distance of about twenty or thirty miles 
 from the latter town. The dwelling was one 
 of those large, staring, many-windowed man- 
 sions, which are designated as chateaux, although 
 the literal translation of the word would not 
 prepare the mind of an untravelled English- 
 man for any thing so totally deficient in 
 turret, battlement, and drawbridge. Suffice it 
 to say, that the one in question looked as 
 if it had been constructed by bad taste and 
 bad judgment, for the discomfort of man. An 
 
 VOL. I. B 
 
2 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 apology for an avenue^ composed of half-naked 
 poplars^ led to a porte cochtre, whose respectable 
 dimensions rendered it the only object calculated 
 to rescue the premises from the contempt of the 
 passing traveller. 
 
 The possessor and actual inmate of the 
 chateau was upwards of seventy years of age ; 
 but Time^ which had silvered his hair, and stif- 
 fened his joints, could neither subdue the 
 energy of his disposition, nor chill the warm 
 feelings of his heart. General Louis de Brissac, 
 Governor of Bordeaux, and Commandant of the 
 Fort du Ha, in that town, had been the com- 
 panion in arms of Conde and Turenne, and had 
 even fought on the same field, vnth. the god of 
 his idolatry, his namesake, and sovereign, Louis 
 the Great.. A few years previous to his demise 
 that king had bestowed on his "brave and 
 faithful De Brissac ^^ (whose existence he had 
 long forgotten) the object of his ambition ; 
 and had released him from the active service 
 to which he was no longer equal, by ap- 
 pointing him to the command of the fort Du 
 Ha, a place of some trust, being now used as 
 a prison, more particularly for political deUn- 
 quents. In De Brissac, the soldier was so closely 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 3 
 
 bound up with every thought^ word, and action, 
 that it became part of his nature. The necessity 
 of mihtary forms, the occasional discharge of 
 cannon, nay, the very sight of uniforms, and 
 the sound of the sentry's challenge, were all 
 sources of pleasure to the veteran, the mono- 
 tonous calm of whose life was only disturbed 
 by the unfeigned grief which he experienced on 
 the death of Louis, in 1715. His serAdces, and 
 his loyalty, were both continued to the Regent 
 Duke of Orleans, but his enthusiastic admira- 
 tion, and his unqualified affection, were buried 
 in the grave of Louis the Great. 
 
 We would not, by introducing Brissac to our 
 readers at such a distance from Bordeaux, lead 
 any one to suppose that the general had in- 
 flicted on himself a voluntary exile from his 
 favourite duties : it was the peremptory com- 
 mands of his physician, to whom he had long 
 been disobedient, which compelled him to seek 
 change of air, and extorted from him in ^an 
 unguarded moment, the promise to be absent 
 from the city for a fortnight at least. One 
 week had crawled heavily by ; the weather was 
 growing colder ; nature was gradually assuming 
 her wintry aspect, and, cursing his fate, his 
 B 2 
 
4 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 physician, and himself, the general sat in his 
 large chair, turning his eyes towards the 
 windows. Successive rain-drops were chasing 
 and jostling each other down every pane, as 
 they rattled in the wind, which was at the 
 same time occupied in stripping the poor 
 poplars of their scanty clothing, and whistling 
 round their writhing forms in cruel exultation. 
 It has often been remarked that such audible 
 demonstrations of the weather's illhumour are 
 conducive to a totally opposite feehng among 
 those who, safely lodged beneath their own 
 roof, laugh the passing hurricane to scorn. 
 This may be the case, when the blazing hearth 
 is encircled by a social barrier, when the storm 
 without only heightens the comfort within, and 
 when every fresh blast is echoed by a burst of 
 merriment. But a similar argument could not 
 be applied to the interior of the chateau, or to 
 the illustration of loneliness in the person of 
 De Brissac. Two unread volumes lay on the 
 table ; the one a Treatise on Military Tactics, 
 in which the general was better instructed 
 than the author ; the other, an odd volume of 
 some romance of the day, which he occasionally 
 took up and put down, with many a " Pshaw !" 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 5 
 
 or like expression of contempt. He had not 
 the dreamer's magic power to people his soli- 
 tude ; he had long passed the age when many 
 an hour is beguiled in the vague enjoyment of 
 castle building, and if he called memory to his 
 assistance, she conjured up a panorama of such 
 stirring and active scenes as only rendered his 
 present seclusion more intolerable. 
 
 Our general had not even a dog to share his 
 imprisonment, without we except the inanimate 
 pair that yawned on the hearth, as if vainly 
 requiring their tribute of fire: we say vainly, 
 for this was a luxury the veteran never per- 
 mitted to himself until the sun had arrived on 
 the confines of Capricornus. It must be con- 
 fessed he had felt strangely tempted to infringe 
 his own rule, by the reflection that the requisite 
 attendance on the fire would cause the more 
 frequent appearance of the other two inmates 
 of the house, whose occasional visits he now 
 prolonged as well as he was able, by some 
 useless question to his old servant, or some still 
 more uncalled for compliment to the antiquated 
 gouvemante. 
 
 Unhappy De Brissac, the star of ennui, 
 seemed to culminate ; he rose from his chair. 
 
6 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 he paced the room^ he tried the galler\^, but 
 was sent back shivering to his old quarters. 
 He sang a snatch of an old military '* roundel/' 
 but his own voice was fearfully loud : he 
 attempted a whistling duet with the wind, but 
 could not keep in tune for the life of him; — 
 when suddenly his practised ear caught the sound 
 of horse's hoofs. At first he dared not beheve 
 it^ but the metal horseshoe rang too merrily 
 on the pavement of the court to be mistaken^ 
 and a ray of hope kindled within his breast. 
 
 '^ If it were my bitterest enemy/' he thought, 
 ^^ and I don't know his name, he would be 
 welcome ; the sight of the ugliest face, and the 
 sound of the harshest voice would be hailed 
 with joy. Perhaps it is some despatch merely 
 left at the door ; but even that might call me 
 to Bordeaux." 
 
 The servant entered, and, to the general's 
 unspeakable joy, announced that a gentleman 
 requested shelter during the heav}^ rain, but 
 that he would not mount the stairs until he 
 had the permission of the master of the house 
 to do so. 
 
 " I did not think of letting them in at first," 
 observed the prudent domestic, '^^but I never 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 saw a likelier young gentleman^ or one that 
 bestrid a horse with better grace ; he has a ser- 
 vant^ but no baggage, having sent it to Bor- 
 deaux by another conveyance." 
 
 " And he is waiting below all this time !" 
 cried the eager general. " Tell him how proud 
 I shall be to receive him ; then hght the fire, 
 throw on an extra log or two on the hearth, and 
 bring the other large tapestried chair out of 
 the gallery." 
 
 He was quickly obeyed, and though, as we 
 have before observed, De Brissac was in no 
 fastidious mood, his satisfaction was increased 
 tenfold by the appearance of his guest. He 
 possessed in an eminent degree every outward 
 passport to favour; but the frankness of his 
 address, and the natural grace of his manner, 
 went further towards winning the old man^s 
 heart, than the distinguished beauty of his 
 person. He apologized for his want of cere- 
 mony, but appealed to the state of the weather, 
 and that of his own garments, to plead his 
 excuse. This they did effectually, for his plain 
 but handsome riding-dress was completely 
 soaked, the scarlet feather that hung from his 
 hat was dripping and discoloured, while the 
 rain that had for some time lodged in his long 
 
8 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 hair, now distilled itself through every ringlet. 
 The general, with most paternal care, insisted 
 on his guest immediately changing his damp 
 clothes, and the inevitable merriment which the 
 metamorphose occasioned, when he returned 
 in a somewhat antiquated miUtary costume, that 
 hung loosely round his young and graceful form 
 helped to remove the ceremonious prelimina- 
 ries of a first introduction. 
 
 Estabhshed in two fellov^ chairs, before a 
 blazing wood fire, the general, whose im- 
 patience to learn the name of his new friend 
 could brook no delay, and the ardour of 
 whose curiosity was in no wise damped by 
 hearing that he was an Englishman, con- 
 ceived that the best method to accomplish his 
 end, was to announce himseK. He cleared his 
 throat several times, thus gaining a few mo- 
 ments' reflection, as to the manner in which the 
 intelligence should be conveyed. He had half 
 determined on identifying himself with the 
 young officer, who led one of the wings of one 
 
 of the battalions on the memorable day of , 
 
 and who had the singular good fortune to 
 render a slight service to the late lamented 
 monarch. But, on reflection, he judged that 
 his guest might never have heard of the cir- 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 9 
 
 cumstance, and would therefore^ probably^ look 
 upon it as an effect of vainglory. He content- 
 ed himself accordingly with stating his name, 
 and those of all the regiments in which he had 
 served, together with his actual employment in 
 the town of Bordeaux. 
 
 '^ It is most fortunate !" exclaimed his com- 
 panion, " that I should have trespassed on the 
 goodness of one, who will be more easily 
 inclined to pardon me, when he hears the delin- 
 quent is William Clifford, the nephew of an old 
 acquaintance. My uncle, who resides perma- 
 nently in Italy, has often mentioned M. de 
 Brissac to me with sincere regard, and my 
 vahse contains at this moment a letter, in 
 which I am recommended to his especial notice 
 during the short time I tarry at Bordeaux.^^ 
 
 '^ It is, indeed, most fortunate,^^ echoed the 
 general, "and I cannot sufficiently rejoice in 
 an opportunity of showing the slightest atten- 
 tion, to a relative of my good lord, your uncle, 
 whose kindness to me, during our short ac- 
 quaintance, will not easily be forgotten.^' 
 
 The young man looked surprised. " My 
 uncle," said he, "is known by the name of 
 the Chevalier Clifford, and I thought there 
 B 3 
 
10 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 were few people who were acquainted with his 
 former position in society/^ 
 
 The general smiled. '^ You need not fear 
 my indiscretion/^ he said ; " for believe me, 
 you are now conversing with one who is well 
 informed of your uncle^s previous history. At 
 the time I knew him, indeed, he was always 
 addressed by liis hereditary title, and was a 
 great favourite at the court of St. Germains, 
 having left England with the determination 
 never to return to a country whose government 
 he could not acknowledge, and where his adhe- 
 rence to the Stuart party was sufficiently well 
 known, to prevent its being any longer either a 
 safe or a desirable residence. He attached 
 himseK, therefore, to the service of the exiled 
 family; but in consequence of some transac- 
 tion in which the English king showed but 
 little gratitude for the sacrifices your uncle had 
 made, he changed his plan, and travelled farther 
 south in search of a resting-place. If these 
 particulars, which I gained from his own lips, 
 appear to authorize further confidence, I can 
 only say with truth, that every thing relating to 
 my noble friend will be most interesting to me.'^ 
 
 " Pardon my reserve,^^ replied WiUiam, 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 11 
 
 '^ which I exercise merely from consideration for 
 the chevalier^s peculiar notions ; but you have 
 convinced me, that with you it is useless. My 
 uncle^s estates were sequestered on his depart- 
 ure, and it must be now about eleven years ago 
 that my father, on his deathbed, enjoined me 
 to leave England, and commit myself to the 
 guardianship and protection of my uncle. The 
 brothers had never disagreed on any subject 
 but politics ; and, after the disgrace of the elder, 
 many people urged my father to apply for a 
 transfer of the property to himself, in which 
 undertaking, his well-proved loyalty held out 
 every prospect of success. But he was not one 
 to build up his own fortune on the ruin of a 
 brother he loved most tenderly, and though 
 with his dying breath he charged me never to 
 entertain a thought prejudicial to the interests 
 of the reigning family, the terms in which he 
 spoke of his brother brought the tears to my 
 eyes. I was then about thirteen years of age, 
 and no sooner were the last sad duties paid to 
 my respected parent, than I set forth alone, to 
 join my uncle on the continent. He received 
 me most kindly, and we have since shared the 
 remnant of our united fortunes. His taste for 
 politics has long been extinguished, and his 
 
12 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 present ambition is to recover the title and 
 estates for me. He has long since drawn up a 
 memorial, which is to be presented on his death ; 
 for nothing, he declares, shall ever induce him, 
 while alive, to ask or receive a favour from the 
 house of Hanover ; but he feels no repugnance 
 in thinking that their generosity may be exercised 
 on me. You may believe, M. de Brissac, I do 
 not place too much reliance on the success of 
 such a strangely-conceived scheme, but as my 
 uncle^s mind is bent upon it, I would not appear 
 ungrateful by speaking lightly on the matter, nor 
 displease him by talking openly of his former 
 title, as he assures me it is absolutely necessary 
 to the furtherance of his plan, that he should 
 remain incognito .^^ 
 
 " All this will be sacred with me,'^ replied 
 the general; ^^ but if it be not too presumptuous, 
 may I inquire what leads you into this part of 
 the world ?' 
 
 " A restless, roving disposition,'^ replied 
 William, laughing, "which has led me for the last 
 four years over almost every part of Europe, and 
 which never allows me to remain, for any length 
 of time in one place.'' 
 
 The conversation now changed to more 
 general subjects, and William inquired if tlie 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 13 
 
 reports of the regent's intention to arrest the 
 Duke of Maine^ were well founded. But on 
 these points he found his host uncommunica- 
 tive^ for De Brissac never forgot the public 
 officer in the politician^ and was too conscientious 
 either to extol with servility, or to censure with 
 virulence, the proceedings of that govern- 
 ment in whose service he had enlisted, but 
 whose actions he could not always approve. 
 Whatever direction their discourse took, how- 
 ever, the old man observed the facility with 
 which it was supported by his companion, 
 and though he was perfectly sensible that 
 the young Englishman had the advantage 
 in every argument, envy formed no part of De 
 Brissac's character, and this conviction only 
 increased his growing predilection for WiUiam. 
 They laughed together heartily over the spell 
 that bound the governor to his unfrequented 
 chateau ; but it was with sincere gratitude that 
 the latter listened to Clifford's proposal of 
 sharing the remaining portion of his exile. In- 
 deed, the second week passed almost too 
 quickly for the old man, so perfectly happy was 
 he in the society of William. He had never 
 before found so patient a listener to his series of 
 campaigns, and he was fully rewarded for his 
 
14 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 former forbearance^ by the success of his anec- 
 dote respecting the battle of . He related 
 
 in glowing colours having ridden up just at the 
 moment that a buUet^ whizzing between the 
 ears of his own charger, entered the right 
 shoulder of the noble beast that bore his ma- 
 jesty. How that he^ Louis de Brissac instantly 
 dismounted, and kneeling on the prostrate 
 corpse of an enemy, with some apt allusion to 
 the same, entreated his most gracious majesty 
 to preserve his precious existence by mounting 
 the horse of his devoted soldier and subject; 
 which the king, with his usual condescension, 
 unhesitatingly accepted, graciously bestowing the 
 dying animal on De Brissac, as '' a slight ac- 
 knowledgment of his esteem." On his return to 
 Bordeaux, he would show Clifford the skin of the 
 horse, he said, which he had carefully preserved, 
 together with the saddle, bridle, and housings, 
 on which, though dreadfully discoloured by 
 blood, the crown and initials were still visible. 
 He had also in his possession a few words, 
 written hastily in the king's handwriting, in 
 which he alluded to the circumstance (thanks to 
 the memory of his aide-de-camp), and which had 
 been sent him by an old comrade, who had 
 turned courtier. WilUam frequently found his 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 15 
 
 patience put to a severe test, by similar details^ 
 but he appreciated to the utmost the sterUng 
 worth of De Brissac^s character, and judged an 
 occasional sacrifice of time and attention, only 
 due to the kindness of his host. 
 
 There was one subject, however, on which 
 the general touched, and on it William be- 
 came deeply interested. It was his mother; 
 and although her early death had prevented 
 the young Englishman from retaining a clear 
 recollection, either of her person or her de- 
 meanour, that love which would have been hers 
 if aUve, now prompted him to listen with anxiety 
 to the shghtest mention of her name. De Bris- 
 sac, in the course of conversation, observ^ed, 
 laughingly, that he might almost consider 
 William as a compatriot, seeing that his mother 
 was a Frenchwoman. 
 
 " Were you acquainted with her ? " asked 
 William, in a tone of anxious inquiry. 
 
 " No,^^ replied his friend, " I never saw her 
 but once on my return to Paris after a long 
 absence. It was at the palace of the Tuileries, 
 on the eve of her marriage ; she was hanging on 
 your father's arm, and conversing with his 
 gracious majesty, (may his soul rest in peace !) 
 and well do I recollect the laugh that my anxiety 
 
16 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 to ascertain her namcj raised against me. Her 
 reign of beauty had then lasted two years ; every 
 courtier in succession had paid his devoirs at 
 her shrine ; and I have every reason to beUeve, 
 that she was one of the first whose charms made 
 an impression upon the too susceptible heart 
 of the Regent. Nay^ I was positively assured 
 that this Prince^ then a very young man^ would 
 willingly have sacrificed all the prejudices of 
 his station to have obtained her. Be this 
 as it may, after report had bestowed her 
 hand upon one half of the French nation, she 
 bestowed it herself upon the handsome young 
 Englishman, whom she had known but a few 
 weeks. I wished him safe out of our good city 
 of Paris, Mr. Clifford ; for the dark looks and 
 the suppressed rage that lurked in many coun- 
 tenances, were but slight demonstrations of the 
 ill will which that marriage excited. Our proud 
 Frenchmen could not brook the idea of a stranger 
 carrying off the prize, and yet he did so in 
 triumph.'^ 
 
 ^^ And was she as beautiful as report ])ids us 
 believe, general ? '^ asked William. 
 
 " I have never seen her equalled," replied De 
 Brissac ; '' she was tall and dignified, with some- 
 thing commanding in her manner, as if aware 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 17 
 
 of the influence which she exercised over so 
 many. I only saw her once, but I have never 
 forgotten her, and, indeed, had we met again, 
 I would not have answered for this tough heart 
 of mine, though she was my junior by many 
 years.^^ The governor would often conclude a 
 similar speech, by compUmenting his guest on the 
 striking resemblance which he bore to his mother, 
 both in feature and manner ; and, indeed, on 
 that score, he seemed to think that he could 
 hardly say too much. 
 
 Accomplished, gay, and eminently handsome, 
 WiUiam shone in society ; but was to be known 
 and to be loved in domestic life. The necessity 
 of acting and judging early for himself, had pro- 
 duced a degree of decision and firmness which, 
 combined with an uncompromising candour, 
 gained him the respect of all ages and conditions. 
 But it was left to few to sound the depths of 
 his mind, to discover the hidden treasures of a 
 devoted and affectionate heart. By the time 
 the two companions left the chateau for Bor- 
 deaux, De Brissac was so deeply impressed with 
 the soundness of William's judgment, and the 
 excellence of his heart, that there were but few 
 thous:hts the old man considered it necessarv 
 to withhold from his newly-gained friend. On 
 
18 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 their arrival at Bordeaux he felt a pride in pre- 
 senting the young stranger to the principal 
 inhabitants of the town and province; and as 
 the season of festivity was approaching, ChfFord 
 yielded to the governor's persuasions, and an- 
 nounced his determination of remaining six 
 weeks or two months at Bordeaux. The beauty 
 of his person, and the refinement of his man- 
 ners, qualities that strike the eye while deeper 
 ones are hid, were alone sufficient to make him a 
 general favourite. The old ladies flattered, and 
 the young ladies smiled on him ; the old men 
 admired, and the young men envied him : 
 but he had no sincerer friend than De Brissac ; 
 none who loved or esteemed him more. It 
 might seem that a provincial town and a limited 
 society would have few charms, when com- 
 pared with the brilliant cities in which Clifford 
 had lately resided. Yet six months passed away 
 at Bordeaux, and he never spoke of the pro- 
 bability of departure. The generaPs affection 
 was increased by such an undoubted proof of 
 friendship, but others who listened to Wil- 
 Uam's numerous reasons and unasked apologies, 
 judged more from things that they saw, than 
 causes which he assigned, and put their own 
 construction on the matter. 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 19 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Although the minority of Louis XV. 
 presented on the whole a peaceable aspect^ yet 
 the grasping ambition^ and the inordinate ex- 
 penditure of his predecessor, had entailed more 
 difficulties on the government than were at first 
 expected. Louis XIV. had, on his deathbed, 
 nominated his nephew, the Duke of Orleans, as 
 head of the Council of Regency ; less, it is sup- 
 posed, from individual partiality, than from the 
 knowledge that his election was expected by 
 the nation. The king's presentiment was 
 shortly after more than verified, upon Philip^s 
 being invested with absolute and undivided 
 power. During the first years of his short but 
 popular government, although freed from the 
 harassing responsibihty of foreign warfare, the 
 regent found ample occupation either in con- 
 
20 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 ciliating the court of England, which regarded 
 with a jealous eye, the asylum afforded to the 
 exiled family of the Stuarts, or in frustrating 
 the constant conspiracies which placed both his 
 authority and his person in imminent danger. 
 The Cardinal Alberoni, who directed the public 
 affairs in Spain, and who pursued with ardour, 
 every chimera that his own ambition could 
 raise, kept up a constant correspondence with 
 the disaffected portion of the French aristo- 
 cracy. Nor did the Quadruple Alliance, which 
 in August, 171 8, menaced Spain with the united 
 force of England, Austria, France, and Holland, 
 deter him from following up his complicated sys- 
 tem of intrigue. We shall not often be tempted 
 to interrupt the course of a narrative chiefly de- 
 voted to the hopes and fears, the joys and sor- 
 rows of private life, for the purpose of relating 
 any of the great events of contemporary his- 
 tory, which are ordinarily less interesting than 
 instructive to the general reader ; but we must 
 dwell for a moment on the particulars of a 
 conspiracy which came to light during the year 
 in which this tale commences, and in which 
 conspiracy the ambassador of his most Catholic 
 Majesty bore a prominent part. 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 21 
 
 The legitimated children of the late king, 
 instigated not less by the persuasions of their 
 partisans, than by the whispers of ambition, 
 and supported by the secret influence of Spain, 
 formed a plan for transferring the viceregal 
 authority to the Duke of Maine. As a states- 
 man and a politician, as a ruler and as an ad- 
 ministrator, the Duke of Orleans had shown 
 talents which no one had expected from him. 
 Yet, however high the regent might stand as a 
 pubKc character, his private life was a tissue 
 of dissipation and profligacy, which awakened 
 the voice of censure, even at a moment when 
 licentiousness seemed to have reached its 
 meridian. The conspirators had thus actually 
 gained over several members of the parliament 
 to their cause, when their intentions were de- 
 feated by the ^dgilance of Philip, whose vigorous 
 measures gradually subdued the spirit of rebel- 
 Uon. The Prince de Cellemare, the Spanish 
 envoy, was arrested, together with the refractory 
 members of the parliament and many of the no- 
 l)ility : while the Duke of Maine and his brothers, 
 were degraded from the rank of princes of the 
 blood. In the month of December, the diike and 
 his wife, a princess of Bourbon, were thrown into 
 
22 
 
 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 separate prisons, and the following year it 
 was found necessary to continue the arrests, 
 although the general aspect of aifairs was one 
 of increasing tranquillity. 
 
 Nevertheless the encouragement that the re- 
 gent^s example afforded swept down every barrier 
 of decorum in the court of France, and even ex- 
 tended its pernicious influence to adjoining 
 nations. The dominion of the fair sex was, of 
 course, most arbitrary, at a moment when gal- 
 lantry and ambition went hand in hand, when 
 individual infidelity was not unfrequently con- 
 strued into treason, and a lettre de cachet but too 
 often completed a series of billets-doux. Even 
 the remote provincial cities were not without 
 their share of the agitation that prevailed in the 
 capital, and Bordeaux participated as much as 
 any in the rumours (at least) which disturbed 
 the metropolis. At the time of Clifford's arrival 
 in that city, messengers were coming and 
 going daily. Troops occasionally halted there 
 on their way to Bayonne ; and tlie Fort du Ha, 
 then the state prison of the pro\dnce, not 
 unfrequently opened its gates to receive some 
 fresh inmate. The slightest incident which 
 broke in upon the monotony of a country town. 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 23 
 
 excited a disproportionate degree of interest, 
 but it was the arrival of one particular prisoner 
 that stirred up the spirit of curiosity among the 
 Bordellois. 
 
 The variety and contradictory nature of the 
 reports which were in circulation respecting 
 him, proved how little any one knew of the 
 truth. While one affirmed that he had secret 
 intimation of the identity of the prisoner with 
 the Duke of Maine; another had every pos- 
 sible reason to believe that it was the duchess 
 herself, who having escaped from her former 
 prison in male attire, had been overtaken and 
 conducted secretly to Bordeaux. A third con- 
 futed both opinions, by asserting that the 
 stranger, who was known by the name of Du- 
 mont, was tall and well made, and could not, 
 in consequence, bear the slightest resemblance, 
 either to the ^^ cripple" or the ^^ dwarf," by which 
 distinguishing appellations the duke and his 
 consort were then known. Some ventured to 
 assert, without hesitation, that the stranger's 
 oifence was neither political nor connected in 
 any way with the cabals of the late king's 
 children. 
 
 Gascony in general, and Bordeaux in par- 
 
24 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 ticular, is not famous for a population wanting 
 in the virtue of curiosity. But prying^ question- 
 ing, and insinuating, all of which laudable and 
 dignified measures were employed by the in- 
 habitants of that city, for the purpose of dis- 
 covering who and what the prisoner was, had no 
 effect on the stony-hearted walls of the Fort du 
 Ha. Never was Clifford more sincerely en^ded 
 by the inhabitants of Bordeaux for his favour 
 with De Brissac, than a few days after the arrival 
 of the mysterious offender, when the young Eng- 
 lishman paid his accustomed visit to the fortress. 
 But William, it appeared^ was not sensible of 
 the peculiar advantage of his situation, for he 
 entered the generaPs apartment with a de- 
 termination rather to avoid than to court a 
 subject, which he had heard exhausted in 
 surmise, in every saloon he had entered during 
 the last week. 
 
 He found the general pacing up and dovm 
 the room, with one hand thrust far into the 
 breast of his military frock, and he continued 
 his walk, even after the entrance of William, 
 who threw himself upon a chair and hmited his 
 inquiries to the health of De Brissac. With 
 that inconsistency which will occasionally break 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 25 
 
 in upon the steady line of such a character as 
 the governor, his first impression was disap- 
 pointment at ChfFord^s lack of curiosity, al- 
 though, for several days past, he had cautiously 
 evaded every question that had been put re- 
 specting Dumont. 
 
 CHflford observed that his friend's mind was 
 absorbed by something uncommon, and he 
 read, without much difficulty, the direction of 
 his thoughts. Accordingly, to gratify De Brissac 
 rather than himself, he inquired, in a casual 
 manner, if either the prisoner, or the cause for 
 which he suffered, warranted the excitement 
 that had prevailed throughout the town. The 
 general halted before the chair on which Chf- 
 ford sat, and rephed, Avith an air of unusual 
 importance, a 
 
 " It would be needless to deny, that in the 
 office I hold under government, secrets of im- 
 portance must necessarily be intrusted to me, 
 but on this occasion I am as ignorant as your- 
 self of the causes which brought M. Dumont, as 
 he is called, to Bordeaux ; I have my own ideas 
 on the subject, which may as well remain within 
 my breast ; but one thing I must observ^e : 
 that in all my long and varied experience, in no 
 
 VOL. I. c 
 
26 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 country, in no station, did I ever meet with so 
 extraordinary a person as the one in question." 
 
 ^^ In what respect is he so extraordinary^ ?" 
 demanded WiUiam, without any very great 
 eagerness. ^^ Is he gloomy or furious under his 
 confinement, rude or courteous to those who 
 guard him ?'' 
 
 " Most courteous," replied the governor, 
 '^ both in language and manner ; but there is a 
 natural superiority, an unquestionable dignit}^, 
 that gives him an air of condescension, even 
 towards myself, when receiving my orders, that, 
 parbleu ! I could not tolerate in any one else. 
 I visit him often, but he does not either seek or 
 shun my society, and I am totally at a loss to 
 account for the interest with which he inspires 
 me. But in this respect I am not singular : it 
 was but this morning that I remarked tlie tone 
 of deference with which the porteclefs addressed 
 him, while sometimes all my authority is required 
 to make those fellows treat their charges -with 
 common civility. But you shall judge for your- 
 self, William, if you will relinquish other attrac- 
 tions for one evening, and sup with your old 
 friend, and his new one. I wish you to see 
 this Dumont. I am anxious to know whether 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 27 
 
 lie will appear to you in the same uncommon 
 light/' 
 
 "^ I will come, willingly/' repUed William, 
 as he rose to take his departure ; ^^ you have 
 awakened more curiosity than I thought my- 
 self capable of on this subject. Farewell, 
 then. I will be with you at the usual hour.'' 
 
 With all his good resolutions to be punctual, 
 William was some twenty minutes later than he 
 intended. 
 
 The governor was alone, and he held a silent 
 reproof in his hand under the form of an in- 
 fallible watch ; but they had to wait some time 
 longer before the sound of footsteps in the 
 corridor announced the prisoner. The door 
 opened, and the general advanced towards it, 
 while Chiford rose with some feeling of curiosity, 
 as Dumont made his appearance. His entry 
 indeed corroborated De Brissac's statement; 
 for it was that of a man accustomed to be 
 treated with deference. His salutation was 
 rather distant than cold, as, scarcely observ- 
 ing WiUiam, he remained near the window 
 conversing ^A-ith the general in a low tone. 
 His back was almost turned to Cliflford, who 
 could therefore only remark his unusual height, 
 c 2 
 
28 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 and the width of his shoulders, which bespoke 
 a Herculean strength; but exerj limb was 
 moulded in the same form, and it was by com- 
 parison alone that the eye estimated their un- 
 common proportions. His attitudes had some- 
 thing military in their character, yet he seldom 
 moved much out of the position into which he 
 had thrown himself on first entering into con* 
 versation. 
 
 William could observe by the manner of the 
 two speakers that their discourse was upon no 
 subject of great interest; and the general 
 soon led the way into an adjoining room, 
 where a substantial though simple repast had 
 been prepared. It was here that William had 
 the means of scrutinizing Dumont's appearance 
 more closely; and the prisoner's continual fits of 
 abstraction gave him frequent opportunities of 
 doing so unremarked. Yet the young EngUsh- 
 man was at a loss to define the pecuharity 
 of that countenance, whose features were 
 neither remarkable for great beauty nor origi- 
 nality. The seat of expression, of indefinable 
 expression, was in the eyes and mouth. 
 When silent and unexcited the countenance 
 was perfectly calm; yet there was a look, 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 29 
 
 even in the moment of repose, intimating that 
 energy lay dormant merely because there were 
 few interests sufficiently powerful to call it into 
 action. His hair and beard were strongly 
 tinged with gray, which seemed at variance 
 with his youthful air and vigorous movements : 
 but there was something in his whole appear- 
 ance that defied scrutiny, even as regarded his 
 age. 
 
 The general treated him with marked respect ; 
 but William, who knew the old man well, could 
 easily perceive a degree of vexation at the 
 failure of many a blameless art to draw M. 
 Dumont into a prolonged conversation. He 
 accordingly exerted himself to supply the de- 
 ficiency, but was surprised to find that the 
 stranger^s presence acted as a restraint even 
 upon him ; and he often detected himself weigh- 
 ing his words, lest they should appear tri\dal or 
 unprofitable to his new acquaintance. After some 
 little time had passed, however, William^s na- 
 tural vein of eloquence carried him on; and 
 although the generaPs replies were not strikingly 
 brilliant, nor those of Dumont frequent, yet he 
 contrived to banish the silence which he knew 
 was irksome to De Brissac. An observation 
 
30 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 from the latter led to a military discussion, and 
 the general, at least, appeared astonished at 
 the knowledge which the young Enghshman 
 displayed on a subject where he could have 
 had Uttle or no experience. But it was at 
 the mention of the name of the Czar Peter, 
 whose late visit to France had called forth 
 all the wild vivacity of the French nation, 
 that William^s enthusiasm burst forth. Nor 
 could the character of that great man have 
 a warmer, and at the same time a more ju- 
 dicious advocate than Clifford, who extolled 
 in the highest terms the man who had risen 
 superior not only to his nation, but to the 
 century in which he lived; who united in 
 his person the statesman, the warrior, the 
 sovereign, and the patriot; who was not in- 
 sensible to the charms of private life, while he 
 exercised all the paramount and extensive duties 
 of a high and responsible station. 
 
 On this point William found the prisoner 
 somewhat more communicative, and he listened 
 with eagerness to the few but emphatic words 
 in which Dumont described the emperor, whom 
 he had seen during his residence at Paris. They 
 both agreed in their approval of the motives 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 31 
 
 which induced the czar to study the manners and 
 customs of more enhghtened countries, in order 
 to bring the stream of knowledge to enrich and 
 fertilize his own. These observations led again to 
 a discussion on travelling in general, and William 
 eagerly advocated a cause in which he felt much 
 interested. Every opinion he supported was 
 couched in language at once pure and original, 
 which bespoke a mind whose freshness had not 
 suffered by contact wdth a calculating world ; and 
 Dumont seeming gradually to find an interest 
 in what was passing, yielded his undivided 
 attention, and although he himself spoke but 
 little, yet what he did say contributed to pro- 
 long conversation by encouraging WiUiam to 
 proceed. CHfFord dwelt at some length upon 
 the pleasures and the advantages which might 
 be derived" from travelling, and without weary- 
 ing his hearers with the details of scenes which 
 they had never beheld, or persons whom they 
 had never knoA\Ti, he gave his obser\'ations such 
 a tone of inviduality, as to be interesting to all. 
 ^^The only disadvantage," he said, "that I 
 have hitherto found is the necessity of constantly 
 shifting the social scene; for the eye can be 
 more easily accustomed to change than the 
 
32 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 heart. Yet even this may have its good effect 
 by counteracting an excessive taste for roaming, 
 and inducing the traveller sooner or later to 
 take up his abode in some particular spot, 
 and exchange a rambling life for one of do- 
 mestic calm. We must all confess the pleasure 
 of having resided sufficiently long at any place 
 to be aware that there are some few to whom 
 our society is genial, and above all, to reflect 
 that our solitude must be that of choice, and 
 not of necessity .^^ 
 
 William had addressed himself chiefly to the 
 general, who heard him with complacency; but 
 on concluding, he turned involuntarily, and 
 found the eye of Dumont bent on him ^^^th an 
 earnestness of scrutiny that appeared to search 
 the spring of every word he uttered. Clifford 
 had mixed much in society, and with the man- 
 ners of the world he had acquired a certain 
 degree of confidence that, without bordering on 
 presumption, preserved him from awkwardness 
 or restraint; yet his eyes now fell before the 
 stranger^s glance. At first he feared that he 
 might have been betrayed into a remark ap- 
 plicable to the individual situation of the 
 prisoner, but the next moment the conscious- 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 33 
 
 ness of having been tempted into a little 
 declamation brought the blood to his cheek, 
 and finding the searching eye still fixed upon 
 him, he said, with his colour still heightened, 
 
 ^^You perhaps think, M. Dumont, that an 
 unanswerable argument might be adduced 
 against travelHng in general, by the unbecom- 
 ing confidence which it gives to the conversa- 
 tion and opinions of a young man, in the 
 presence of those whose riper judgment and 
 better experience should teach him silence/^ 
 
 " You do not interpret the thoughts of others 
 as well as you describe your own. Monsieur," 
 repUed Dumont; ^^most men have a proficiency 
 in some particular point, and constant experi- 
 ence has proved to me that I am seldom 
 mistaken in my first estimate of the character 
 of any person in whose society I have passed 
 a few hours. I trust, therefore, you will not 
 consider it a delusion of self-love when I say 
 that there are few points in which we should 
 disagree. '^ 
 
 He smiled as he spoke, and William bowed 
 
 silently but gratefully ; for both the smile and 
 
 the voice had no slight eifect on his mind. 
 
 That voice, indeed, was low and emphatic, with 
 
 c3 
 
34 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 every possible variety of intonation exacting at- 
 tention^ with extraordinary power, and lending 
 depth and value to the commonest sentiments 
 he uttered. The three companions pledged 
 each other in the generaPs wine, but it was to 
 WilHam that Dumont addressed himself, when 
 he drank to the improvement of their acquaint- 
 ance. 
 
 The governor, on his part, exulted in the 
 fulfilment of the reciprocal impression which he 
 had foreseen, while rising from the table he 
 proposed adjourning to the ramparts to breathe 
 the fresh air of the evening. Here Dumont 
 threw oif the reserve which had characterized 
 his demeanour during the early part of the 
 evening. It appeared as if in the open air 
 he felt the prison weigh less heavily on his 
 mind, his words and thoughts were released 
 from their hidden fetters, and his spirit breath- 
 ed more freely when removed from the atmo- 
 sphere of those heavy walls. He conversed 
 with, and listened to WiUiam, until they en- 
 gaged in an animated discussion ; but suddenly 
 the clock of the large tower tolled the hour, 
 and a sentinel appeared at the end of the ram- 
 parts. 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 35 
 
 Dumont paused abruptly, to the surprise 
 of Clifford, who had not observed the sudden 
 apparition. " Monsieur le General/^ said the 
 prisoner, turning to De Brissac, '^ it is seldom 
 that I make a request, but feeling sensible that 
 you will refuse me nothing consistent wdth 
 your duty, I could wish to solicit the favour 
 of occasional visits from M. ClifFord.^^ 
 
 The veteran's countenance brightened, and 
 placing his hand on William's shoulder, he 
 rephed, ^^ I have the more pleasure in com- 
 plying with your request, as it will be a means 
 of affording mutual enjoyment to two persons 
 I most sincerely esteem." 
 
 Dumont expressed his thanks, and extending 
 his hand to William, who pressed it warmly, he 
 bowed to De Brissac and withdrew. 
 
 And now that they were alone, the old man 
 turned to Clifford in the expectation of his 
 expatiating largely on the impression which the 
 prisoner had left on his mind; but he was not a 
 little surprised at finding him unusually taciturn 
 and reserA^ed ; although he owned that De 
 Brissac's description was perfectly correct, and 
 that the picture his own fancy had drawn was 
 far outdone by the original. William said no 
 more, however ; for he felt as if a sudden and 
 
36 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 secret bond of union connected him \nth the 
 stranger — the bond of sympathizing minds and 
 thoughts in unison — which the governor could 
 not perceive, and in which he had no part. 
 But as he bade his old friend good night, he 
 thanked him in all sincerity, for this new 
 proof of friendship ; and strange to say, he 
 left the fortress with a sensation of unmingled 
 pride, at having attracted the notice of an un- 
 known prisoner ! William had visited foreign 
 courts, and had already stood high in royal 
 favour, yet he had never experienced a similar 
 feeling ; and as he wrapped himself in his cloak, 
 and walked leisurely through the streets of 
 Bordeaux, he vainly attempted to ascertain 
 the cause of his mental exaltation. 
 
 Perhaps a sort of partial revelation may occa- 
 sionally be granted, on first beholding a person 
 whose fate is ordained to be connected with our 
 own, in some strange and compHcated manner. 
 Perhaps the heart may be quicker than the 
 reason in forming its estimate, and that some- 
 times we blame ourselves for indulging a sud- 
 den predilection for those who are destined to 
 sway the thoughts or actions of our after life, 
 when that predilection has proceeded from the 
 same instinct which guides inferior animals with 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 37 
 
 unerring wisdom. Be this as it may, William 
 did not regret the evening which had de- 
 tained him from other society, and if a gen- 
 tle spirit presided over his dreams, her potency 
 was, at least, shared by Dumont. His first 
 impulse, on rising the next morning, was 
 to repair to the fortress, with the chance 
 of an interview; but his better judgment 
 forbade a precipitancy which might appear in- 
 delicate in the eyes both of the general and his 
 prisoner. He was soon after rewarded for his 
 forbearance, by the entrance of one of the gar- 
 rison soldiers, the bearer of a billet from his 
 commanding officer, informing William that M. 
 Dumont would be at liberty to see and converse 
 with him during the stated hours of promenade, 
 and that he expressed a wish to do so. 
 
 " I have obtained his word,^^ the governor's 
 note concluded, "that you will never make 
 political affairs the subject of your discourse.^^ 
 William received the communication with 
 sincere pleasure ; and yet, as he walked towards 
 the fortress, he experienced no slight degree of 
 apprehension, lest, on a prosecution of their 
 acquaintance, he should not justify M. Du- 
 mont^s opinion ; and impressed as he was with 
 the stranger's universal superiority, he under- 
 
38 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 rated his own powers of pleasing^ and questioned 
 his capacity of fixing the friendship of such a 
 man. 
 
 Nevertheless he hastened to the interview 
 with almost childish impatience, and following 
 the soldier, was conducted according to the 
 generaPs commands into the garden, which 
 occupied the whole of the principal court. 
 He there beheld Dumont, with his arms 
 folded, in an attitude of deep reflection; but 
 the prisoner, on perceiving William, advanced 
 and greeted him kindly. 
 
 The cordiality of his manner banished in an 
 instant every shadow of doubt and restraint 
 from William's mind, and he abandoned him- 
 self, without hesitation, to the charms of a 
 conversation in which all the varied powers of a 
 great and extraordinary mind, and all the ex- 
 tensive knowledge which can only be gained by 
 long and busy acquaintance with the world, 
 were brought into play by his companion, as if 
 for the purpose of exciting all the strong en- 
 thusiasms and brilliant fancies of the young 
 Englishman's fresh and energetic nature. 
 
 From that day William's visits to the Fort 
 du Ha were frequent. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 At the period of which we are speaking, the 
 city of Bordeaux laid claim to pre-eminence, in 
 more ways than one, over its neighbours. The 
 commerce of the town was great, and its traders 
 a body of importance. The noblesse boasted a 
 decent antiquity, the rest of the inhabitants were 
 for the most part opulent, and their hospitality 
 proverbial; but amongst those who presided 
 chiefly over ^^ the world^^ of the Gascon capital, 
 was a Madame D^Aubry. The sister of an Eng- 
 lish baronet, she had offended his pride by mar- 
 rying (late in hfe) a French merchant, who died 
 shortly after their union, leaving his widow in 
 possession of a considerable jointure, and the 
 largest hotel in Bordeaux, where she resided with 
 her niece at the time of the commencement of our 
 tale. A more perfect contrast could scarcely be 
 conceived than that presented by these two rela- 
 tives, as they sat together one spring morning, in 
 
40 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 a spacious and well-furnished apartment of the 
 Hotel D^Aubry. The elder lady was bending 
 anxiously over some apparatus cleverly con- 
 structed^ for the furtherance of that style of fe- 
 male handiwork which rescues its performer from 
 the imputation of idleness^ while it leaves the 
 thoughts and the tongue in a state of undoubted 
 freedom. In figure she was tall and spare^ and 
 her face (for it would be flattery to say counte- 
 nance) was one of those which it is most difficult 
 to impress upon the memory. It had no beauty 
 to attract^ no ugliness to arrest the eye ; yet there 
 was an air of goodhumour that helped to redeem 
 the negative style of her appearance^ and her 
 eyes actually acquired an approach to expres- 
 sion^ when they were directed towards that side 
 of the room where sat her niece^ the gentle 
 Blanch Courtenay ; for sincere affection bound 
 her to her young elation, who had now passed 
 many years under her care. 
 
 Blanch was seated near an open window, the 
 Venetian blinds of which were not sufficiently 
 closed to prevent a slanting sunbeam from enter- 
 ing the room, and gilding a profusion of fair hair 
 that adorned her exquisitely-shaped head, and 
 was arranged in a manner entirely at variance 
 with the stiff and towering head-dresses of the 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 41 
 
 day. She was rather tall than otherwise^ and 
 the eye of the most fastidious sculptor Could 
 hardly have detected a fault in the rounded out- 
 line of her form, and the beautifully feminine 
 proportion of every limb. Before her stood a 
 table, with several books, writing-utensils, and 
 ornaments of much taste, which showed it to 
 be her property, while some drooping flowers 
 alone seemed unworthy of their situation. 
 
 Blanch was reading, and she bent her head 
 so intently over the volume, that it was diffi- 
 cult to observe her face, but in her complexion 
 were beautifully blended the tints of delicacy 
 and health, and the atmosphere of brightness 
 which she had chosen seemed in perfect keeping 
 with the character both of her mind and person. 
 From a child she had been distinguished for the 
 ^^ swete cheerfulnesse^^ (as the poet hath it) of 
 her disposition. It was almost impossible to 
 pass any time in her society without acknowledg- 
 ing the influence of a vivacity at once brilliant 
 and refined. She had none of that capricious 
 and exaggerated display of mirth, which is too 
 often coupled with an answering degree of me- 
 lancholy, breaking forth like the fitful gleams 
 of a stormy sun ; her cheerfulness was a steady 
 
42 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 emanation of radiance from the fountain of a 
 young and inexperienced breast^ across which 
 misfortune had as yet cast no shadow. 
 
 Madame D'Aubry loved her niece sincerely 
 and disinterestedly^ and seemed never happy 
 but in her society. She had been calculating for 
 some time past on the possibility of their sepa- 
 ration, and it was this reflection, no doubt, that 
 gave rise to the following conversation : 
 
 '^ Did I tell you, dear Blanch,^^ she began, 
 ^^ that I heard yesterday of the arrival of an 
 old acquaintance of mine, Mr. Roland Stan- 
 ley? We have not met, it is true, since we 
 were children, but a messenger from England 
 must always be welcome, and I have no doubt 
 he will bring some news of your parents ; I am 
 afraid, my dear child, they will not leave me 
 in quiet possession of you much longer/^ 
 
 Blanch looked up from her book lest she 
 should appear inattentive, but made no remark. 
 
 ^^ How surprised and delighted they would 
 be to see you ! My sister, in particular, who, 
 as I always told her, set her mind too much 
 upon beauty, and thought so little of you, 
 because your sister was, at that time, the fairest 
 of the two. I shall always think their resolution 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 43 
 
 to part with you for so long was no great proof 
 of feeling; though, as far as I am concerned, 
 the day of your arrival was a blessed one/^ 
 
 " Do not speak severely of them, my dear 
 aunt/^ replied Blanch ; ^^ you know the physi- 
 cians recommended change of climate, as the 
 only hope of saving my life, and you yourself 
 proposed to receive meJ' 
 
 " True, dear child ; but I repeat once more, 
 their minds were set upon your sister, and you 
 were scarcely considered, and yet she had an 
 untractable disposition, and a most ungovern- 
 able temper." 
 
 " Poor Lucy !" said Blanch, seriously, " she 
 is dead, do not let us recapitulate her faults." 
 
 "Well, well, they will find the difference 
 when you go home ; for you were always good, 
 but now you are beautiful, Blanch, and your 
 mother mil say so when she sees you." 
 
 The girl smiled. ^^ Why I never heard you 
 speak so imprudently before, my dear aunt,^' 
 she said ; ^' are you not afraid of the effect your 
 words may have on my vanity ? '' 
 
 " No, child ; if the sweet speeches of all the 
 young gallants who crowd round you, have 
 failed in instilling one jot of conceit into your 
 
44 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 disposition, I do not think the discourse of 
 your old aunt will have any such evil conse- 
 quence. To be sure, as I have often thought 
 and regretted, this is not a society in which you 
 ought to move, and though it may satisfy me 
 from necessity, I frequently wonder that you 
 should derive any pleasure from mixing with 
 such a set of unpolished boors .^^ 
 
 " Nay, nay, my dear aunt,^^ replied the other 
 with a smile ; '^ I am sure there are many peo- 
 ple in Bordeaux who do not deserve such severity 
 of criticism, and who, according to my poor 
 judgment, are sufficiently agreeable and refined 
 for any society .^^ 
 
 But before her aunt could reply, they were 
 interrupted by the entrance of the servant, 
 who announced Mr. CHfford. Blanch half 
 rose, and then resumed her seat, and Madame 
 D'Aubry paused in the middle of a stitch, and 
 transferring the needle to the left hand, stretched 
 forth the right hand to her visiter, begging him 
 at the same time to sit beside her. 
 
 William was at a loss how to combine ci^-ility 
 to both ladies, by accepting Madame D'Aubry^s 
 invitation, without turning his back to her fair 
 niece. He, however, seated himself, and then 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 45 
 
 wheeled his chair rounds so as to be midway 
 between the two. 
 
 ^^ It is a long time since you have done us this 
 honour/^ the aunt began. 
 
 ^' A long time, indeed/^ echoed Blanch. 
 
 '^ I scarcely deserve that you should have 
 remarked it/^ replied William, "but lately 
 my time has been much taken up.^' 
 
 " Oh, yes/^ interrupted Madame D'Aubrj^, 
 '^ we heard of your having formed an acquaint- 
 ance with the state prisoner, and we are most 
 anxious to know who and what he is ; pray do 
 tell us all about him.^^ 
 
 But it so happened that this was a subject on 
 which William was predetermined not to en- 
 large, for he disliked the idea of Dumont^s be- 
 coming a common topic of discourse among 
 those who did not know him, and were inca- 
 pable of understanding the pecuharities of his 
 character. 
 
 In William^s estimation Dumont stood too far 
 above the common level of mankind, for the su- 
 perficial though busy eye of curiosity to distin- 
 guish his real attributes. Clifford therefore con- 
 tented himself with assuring Madame D^Aubry 
 that the person in question was neither the Duke 
 or the Duchess of Maine, and that all the 
 
46 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 certain information he could give was, that 
 M. Dumont was a most agreeable companion. 
 He thus effected his end with skilful policy, 
 and by the calm and every-day tone of his voice, 
 succeeded in stifling the rising spark of curiosity 
 in the breast of the elder lady at least, even 
 though he somewhat suddenly changed the 
 conversation. Blanch had often in her own 
 mind commented on and admired William's 
 conversational powers, but at this moment she 
 listened to him with comparatively little plea- 
 sure, though she knew not why. Perhaps the 
 influence of the baneful number Three, which, 
 though it claimed its graces, owned also its 
 fates and furies, was shed over the discourse, 
 and prevented it from flowing smoothly on. 
 She wished, it must be confessed, that William's 
 remarks should be addressed to, and answered 
 by herself, without the restraint of a sohtary 
 listener, although she was perfectly aware that 
 their conference w^ould only treat of such sub- 
 jects as might in fact be heard by the whole 
 world. Clifford seemed to partake of the feel- 
 ing, and Blanch well knew that the conversa- 
 tion which he adapted to Madame D'Aubr^^s 
 taste w^as not such as gave him any satisfac- 
 tion. 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 47 
 
 The arrival of Mr. Roland Stanley^ which took 
 jDlace almost immediately after that of ChiFord, 
 was in consequence welcomed by all parties. This 
 gentleman^ although announced by Madame 
 D^Aubr}^ as her playmate^ appeared her junior 
 by at least twelve or fifteen years. His dress 
 was in strict accordance with the reigning 
 fashion^ his manner consequential^ and his 
 compliments profuse^ while he affirmed that he 
 had seized the earliest opportunity of waiting 
 on his countr)^vomen. 
 
 ChfFord had_, with his usual civility, risen on 
 Stanley^s entrance, and kindly yielding his seat 
 near Madame D'Aubry to the new comer, took 
 possession of one contiguous to the table before 
 described beneath the window. 
 
 Madame D'Aubry had so many questions to 
 ask, and Mr. Stanley had so much inclination to 
 answer them, that they were soon engrossed in 
 a sort of perpetual catechism, which enabled the 
 two others to converse at their ease. This they 
 did for some time, without touching on any 
 thmg particularly interesting, but both tacitly 
 acknowledging the absence of that restraint, 
 which a third person had before occasioned. 
 Clifford indeed no longer avoided the subject of 
 
48 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 Dumont, now that he found himself with a 
 person he beheved capable of viewing in its 
 true hght the friendship which subsisted be- 
 tween himself and the prisoner^ and he insen- 
 sibly brought the discourse into that channel. 
 He described the particulars of their first meet- 
 ing, and their subsequent interview, and his 
 fair hearer Hstened with undisguised interest. 
 
 " His powers of mind must be very great," 
 she said, smiling at his enthusiasm, " to have 
 interested you so deeply." 
 
 ^^ They are great, indeed," said WiUiam, 
 ^^ and varied as well. He is evidently a man of 
 profound erudition, and can talk on the most ab- 
 struse branches of science with unhesitating faci- 
 lity ; then breaking off abruptly, he will indulge 
 in a light strain of irony, or an occasional burst 
 of satire, that would do well to lash the follies 
 of the age. On subjects of literature, he dis- 
 plays the most astonishing range of information, 
 and I verily believe his enthusiastic admiration 
 of the glories of nature would rival your own." 
 
 " It is almost cruel," said Blanch, ^^ to 
 give me such a descrijotion of a person with 
 whom I never can be acquainted ; but tell me," 
 she added, more seriously, "is it true that he 
 has involved himself in political intrigues ? I 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 49 
 
 have heard that the regent is not given to cle- 
 mency in those affairs, and it would be dreadful 
 to think that such a man as you represent 
 M. Dumont to be, might be sacrificed for, at 
 worst, some mistaken notion of patriotism/' 
 
 " I know not," replied William, ^^ he never 
 alludes, directly or indirectly, to the cause of his 
 imprisonment; scarcely, indeed, does he ever 
 speak of himself; though, on other subjects, 
 he is far more communicative to me, than he 
 appears to any body else. I am flattered by 
 such confidence, I confess, though I am well 
 aware that I in no way merit the distinction." 
 
 ^^ We always argue in that way," said Blanch, 
 ^^ in regard to the persons whom we esteem the 
 most ; yet it is strange how self-contented and 
 easy we feel with those who are indifferent to 
 us. Does he feel his imprisonment ? Do his 
 misfortunes affect him greatly ?" 
 
 ^' No words approaching to complaint, or even 
 murmur, ever cross his lips ;" replied William, 
 ^^ he talks of sorrow merely in its general sense, 
 and of trials as impartially inflicted on mankind." 
 
 ^^ I would give a great deal to see the person 
 of whom you speak in such terms ! " exclaimed 
 
 VOL. I. D 
 
50 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 Blanch, smiling. " You are in general so diffi- 
 cult to please, and so saving of praise, that I do 
 beUeve M. de Brissac is the only human being 
 in Bordeaux on whom you occasionally lavish 
 a few words of eulogium.^^ 
 
 CliiFord might, perhaps, have answered this 
 accusation by saying, that his thoughts did more 
 justice to one other person in the city, had he 
 not observed that Madame D^Aubry^s eyes were 
 turned in his direction. She had an air of con- 
 sequence, which appeared to William the fore- 
 runner of some extraordinary intelligence, and 
 he soon found that he was not mistaken. 
 
 ^^ Mr. Stanley, Blanch, has brought us great 
 news,'^ said her aunt with an air of reflected 
 grandeur ; " your parents have attracted the 
 notice of his Majesty, who has appointed your 
 father to an office in the royal household, and 
 they now reside permanently at Hampton Court 
 Palace, a few miles from London; by all ac- 
 counts, a most dehghtful abode. I fear, 
 my love, they will now send for you. Did they 
 allude to the subject, Mr. Stanley ?" 
 
 " No, Madam,^^ he repUed ; '^ I knew your 
 relatives but little, and it was by chance Lady 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 51 
 
 Courtenay mentioned you, as a constant resident 
 at Bordeaux ; but I cannot believe/^ he added, 
 turning towards Blanch, ^Hhat your parents 
 would deprive England any longer of so bright 
 an ornament, or prevent their beautiful daughter 
 from enjoying the pleasures and advantages of 
 the English court." 
 
 He looked as if he expected a smile, and an 
 answer, but was disappointed of both, and 
 Madame D^Aubry, perceiving that it was so, 
 continued : 
 
 "My dear Blanch, you are not aware that 
 Mr. Stanley is speaking to you. Does not the 
 prospect of returning home under such cir- 
 cumstances rejoice you ? " 
 
 ^^ No," she replied eagerly, " I have no wish 
 to leave Bordeaux ; you have always been so 
 kind to me, and, — ^^ She paused, for it struck 
 her that the prospect of separation from her 
 aunt would not be her principal regret, and 
 Blanch scorned the slightest disingenuousness ; 
 she therefore added, " I have been very happy 
 here." 
 
 " But must it not have been a negative kind 
 of happiness ?" inquired Mr. Stanley, puzzled 
 at her total absence of ambition." 
 d2 
 
52 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 '^ I think not/^ said Blanch^ " at least I have 
 been contented." 
 
 She felt confused, however, at having spoken 
 so earnestly; and, casting her eyes on the 
 ground, vainly struggled mth an uncalled for 
 blush that spread itself over her cheek. The 
 silence was painful ; her eyes began gradually 
 to fill, and with that mysterious sense which 
 it is impossible to define, she felt that Wil- 
 liam's eye was on her. She wondered he 
 did not speak, and dreaded looking up, lest 
 she should encounter his gaze, but an irresis- 
 tible impulse compelled her to do so. It was 
 but for an instant ; but as she caught the ex- 
 pression a tremour pervaded her whole frame, 
 and a thrill ran through every vein ! She 
 turned towards her aunt, who was now busily 
 employed in the formation of a flower; but 
 Roland Stanley's observation had been keener, 
 and Blanch's confusion was not a little height- 
 ened by a certain look of intelligence which he 
 thought proper to assume. Many a sensation 
 had been busy in that little circle during the 
 few moments' pause which had taken place ; 
 William had experienced hope, and Blancli 
 alarm; Stanley had read as deeply, perhaps 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 53 
 
 more deeply^ into their feelings than either of 
 them; while Madame D'Aubry had put the 
 finishing shade to the last pensee of the Marquise 
 de Beauheu^s Prie Dieu. Yet she herseK was at 
 last struck by the unusual silence^ and hastened 
 to supply the deficiency of loquacity on the part 
 of her guests by some observation which would 
 appear as uninteresting now to us^ as it did then 
 to her three companions. Wilham Clifford rose 
 soon after and took leave, while Stanley followed 
 his example, as soon as Madame D'Aubry^s 
 thirst for English news was in some degree 
 appeased. 
 
 When they were both gone, that lady found 
 her niece suddenly and unusually silent, and 
 was half angry at the pertinacity of her refusal to 
 pass the evening in some favoured coterie. But 
 Blanch preferred the sohtude of her own apart- 
 ment, to which she repaired after hearing the 
 carriage drive from the door that conveyed 
 Madame D'Aubry to the Marquise de Beau- 
 lieu^s reception. In passing through the ves- 
 tibide, however, she found a small but beautifid 
 nosegay lying on the marble table. 
 
 Blanch made no inquiry, but carried it into 
 her owTi room, where she spent the remainde 
 
54 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 of the evening, and there sat and thought until 
 long past the usual hour for retiring to rest. 
 
 The events of that day, although apparently 
 of little consequence, formed a source of deep re- 
 flection to her. In the intelligence that Mr. Stan- 
 ley had brought, she foresaw no distant prospect 
 of a change, the bare idea of which was startling; 
 for, cheerful as was her natural disposition, 
 Blanch knew that her path could not always lie 
 amid such even ground as hitherto, and she 
 feared the consequences of external vicissitude 
 on the contented state of her mind. She had 
 arrived at the age of twenty, having passed eight 
 years beneath her aunt's roof, the concentrated 
 object of admiration at Bordeaux, without allow- 
 ing her young heart to be touched even for a 
 moment. Her indifference was put down as 
 pride, and though she listened mth complacency 
 to Madame D'Aubry's arguments in favour of a 
 future and suitable union in her native country, 
 it would hardly have been compatible with her 
 uncalculating nature to have done so, had not 
 that indifference been real and unaffected. 
 
 The mind of Blanch was deeply imbued 
 with that spirit of enthusiasm which leads to 
 the admiration of all that is beautiful and 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 55 
 
 good^ and endows the commonest occurrences 
 of life with zest and interest. But a strong 
 sense of duty, and a high regard for rehgion, 
 conducted that enthusiasm into the right 
 channel, and gave a just direction to all her 
 feelings. The knowledge that she was the object 
 of an affection she could not return, was always 
 a source rather of regret than triumph to Blanch, 
 from whose lips the ill-timed jest never 
 wounded the ear on a subject that bears no 
 merriment to him it so nearly concerns. With 
 miserly care she had treasured up every sym- 
 pathy of her heart to lavish on the single object 
 who might one day claim her as his own ; for 
 though gentle and feminine by nature, her de- 
 termination was unalterably fixed to bestow her 
 hand upon the first who should possess the 
 undivided empire of her affections. 
 
 The neglect with which she had been treated 
 by her parents, seemed in a great measure to 
 exempt her from the necessity of consulting them 
 on the subject. But when she calculated on the 
 possibility of being recalled to England, her 
 first impulse was to rejoice that no one had yet 
 been inscribed in her hearths secret records. The 
 next thought was, to question if a name could not 
 
56 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 be found there^ although the characters in which 
 it was traced were dim and shadowy. The 
 conversation of Mr. Stanley had occasioned this 
 self-examination^ but she was alarmed and per- 
 plexed on calling to mind the tremour that per- 
 vaded her whole frame, as her eyes met those 
 of William. Her eyes had often encoun- 
 tered glances of admiration as ardent ; and she 
 might have felt sorrow at exciting feelings which 
 she could not return; but never before had 
 they produced the slightest approach to sym- 
 pathy in her mind. 
 
 It was a fine night, a soft warm wind made its 
 way through the open casement, and as Blanch 
 sat near it, absorbed in thought, the flowers 
 beside her seemed to take their part in the 
 argument. For some time past, WiUiam Cliflford 
 had paid a silent and unostentatious tribute, 
 by presenting her, as on the present occasion, 
 with the rarest exotics that could be pro- 
 cured, and there was something pure and 
 refined in the gift, that rendered it peculiarly 
 adapted to Blanches taste, while its intrinsic 
 value did not call upon her to refuse the offering. 
 As she endeavoured to persuade herself that the 
 agitation of the morning was owing to some 
 
THE STATE PRISONER* 57 
 
 casual excitement, the sweet breath of the flowers 
 seemed to waft contradiction, and refute every 
 argument she adduced. Their obtrusive fra- 
 grance indeed suggested many a question which 
 she found it difficult to answer. They boasted 
 the care which she had bestowed on them, they 
 reminded her of the precautions she had 
 used to prevent their predecessors from wither- 
 ing prematurely, and of the fact of some still re- 
 taining a place upon her table, even when both 
 their beauty and their perfume had departed. 
 Fatigued at length by a dispute, in which even in- 
 animate objects had the advantage, Blanch closed 
 the window, and betook herself to rest, though it 
 waslongbefore she could compose herself to sleep. 
 Resolved to think no more on such subjects, 
 she turned her thoughts towards England, and 
 endeavoured to derive consolation from the 
 hope that her parents would be too much en- 
 grossed by their new vocations to think of her. 
 She strove, in the spirit of philosophy, to conjure 
 up some beautiful conception of the court to 
 which Mr. Stanley had alluded; but, alas ! how 
 quickly does the mind turn from the contem- 
 plation of those scenes, in which the heart has 
 no share. Her thoughts woidd not bear dic- 
 d3 
 
58 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 tation^ and they stole at length to the Fort du 
 Ha, and dwelt long on the prisoner, while 
 Blanch encouraged them to remain there, per- 
 haps forgetting, that the thought of Dumont, 
 must necessarily be bound up with that of the 
 friend who had awakened her interest on the 
 subject. 
 
 Her revery was as usual interrupted by her 
 aunt, who in all the pomp of powder and brocade, 
 crept stealthily into the room, to regret her 
 dear child had passed so dull an evening all 
 alone, and to report the numerous inquiries re- 
 sulting from her absence. Madame D^Aubry 
 also informed her niece, that at the earnest 
 solicitations of her numerous friends, she in- 
 tended to celebrate her dear BidLnch's fete by 
 a splendid masquerade during the course of the 
 ensuing month. 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 59 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 It may not, perhaps, be quite superfluous to 
 give a slight account of the Enghshman, with 
 whom we became acquainted in the last chapter, 
 under the name of Mr. Roland Stanley, and 
 with whom perhaps we shall have more to do 
 hereafter. Though not without individual cha- 
 racter, he was one of those persons who, both 
 from principle and inclination, amalgamate 
 with every society into which they are thrown. 
 He considered himself fortunate, however, 
 in discovering that his first acquaintance in 
 Bordeaux, were of sufficient consideration to 
 ensure some for himself, if frequently seen 
 with them. He accordingly overwhelmed Ma- 
 dame D'Aubry with professions of esteem, 
 and it was shortly whispered among the talk- 
 ative portion of the inhabitants that the widow, 
 
60 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 or her fortune^ had made no slight impression 
 on his heart. Be this as it may^ for the 
 report was spread the third time they were 
 seen together^ Stanley soon found his way 
 into every reutiiojiy and whilst he did not 
 conceal his wish to extend the limits of his 
 general acquaintance^ he continued a constant 
 visiter at the Hotel D^Aubry^ while at the 
 same time he sedulously cultivated the ac- 
 quaintance of Clifford. 
 
 It was in conversation with Stanley, indeed, 
 that William^s mind reverted to politics, which, 
 as a forbidden subject, between himself and 
 Dumont, had lately been banished from his 
 mind. He had never felt any ambition for the 
 career of a statesman, nor did he derive much 
 satisfaction from a fruitless inquiry into the 
 hidden causes of the proceedings of any par- 
 ticular government; but a long absence from 
 England had not extinsfuished an inherent love 
 for his country, and he listened with eagerness 
 to every certain information respecting it. 
 There was something peculiarly cautious in the 
 language and manners of Stanley, which put 
 Clifford involuntarily on his guard. He observed 
 that his countryman (at least on first acquaint- 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 61 
 
 ance)^ seldom started any topic of his own^ but 
 appeared to study the opinions, and echo the 
 sentiments of his companions, — or to speak in 
 the language of a gambler — he never led^but 
 invariably followed suit in conversation, until 
 by this means he had discovered the tastes and 
 propensities of his associates. 
 
 He paid an assiduous court to William, by 
 whose means he every day increased his con- 
 nexions, while his eagerness to obtain popu- 
 larity^, with an occasional attempt at confi- 
 dence, soon enlightened Clifford on the views 
 of his compatriot. But the misfortunes which 
 had clouded his early days, had implanted 
 in William^s breast a deeply-rooted aversion for 
 the cabals of party, and whatever was his 
 opinion of the Stuart claims, he could not but 
 acknowledge that the country presented a more 
 flourishing aspect beneath the sway of the 
 triumphant house. Nor was the Chevalier de 
 St. George — a man of feeble abihties and 
 vacillating conduct — likely in any way to win 
 over Clifford to a cause which had been con- 
 demned by his father^s last words. But Roland 
 Stanley, who possessed no insignificant share 
 of penetration, in discovering his young com- 
 
62 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 panion's view of the subject^ derived consolation 
 from another source. It was no difficult matter 
 to perceive that WiUiam's hopes were centred 
 in one day returning to England^ his reasons 
 for quitting which were better known to his 
 countryman than he might perhaps have liked. 
 To this point aU his wishes wxre directed : 
 England was to him the Land of Promise^ the 
 chosen theatre for aU his speculative dreams^ 
 and the only pleasure which he found in 
 Roland^s conversation was in any details of 
 manners or scenery peculiar to his loved^ 
 though scarcely remembered country. 
 
 Stanley, on his side, eager to benefit by such 
 enthusiasm, occasionally defeatedhis own object, 
 either by intruding himself, at an unwelcome 
 moment, by incessantly haunting ChfFord's path, 
 or by not unfrequently wayla}ang him on his 
 road to the fortress. 
 
 When Chfford was there, however, all extern 
 nal speculations were forgotten in the society 
 of Dumont. This extraordinary man was in 
 every way calculated to fix both the imagination 
 and the friendship of the young and enthu- 
 siastic EngHshman. His stately bearing, his 
 lofty demeanour, the eloquence of his language. 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 63 
 
 the dignity of his silence, together with a stamp 
 of conscious, though unassuming superiority, 
 had made a deep impression upon ChfFord (as 
 we have before observed) at their first meeting. 
 But in their frequent and (after a short period 
 had elapsed) their daily interviews, it may easily 
 be conceived, that this favourable impression 
 ripened into a sincere friendship, when every 
 day that passed gave William some fresh proof 
 of the interest with which the prisoner re- 
 garded him. Yet, in the conversation he had 
 held with Blanch, Clifford had not suffered 
 himself to be led away by gratitude for the pri- 
 soner's partiality, nor by any other mistaken feel- 
 ing, to exaggerate the character of Dumont. He 
 had spoken with his usual unwavering veracity, 
 and had not even told her all that he had ad- 
 mired, at least as far as regarded the prisoner's 
 acquirements. During his travels, Clifford had 
 himself acquired a knowledge of several lan- 
 guages, but Dumont's proficiency in all those 
 he knew, and many more, and the native accent 
 with which he spoke in each, was a source 
 of real astonishment to CHfford. His ac- 
 quaintance with foreign Uterature was even 
 more surprising from its range, and William, 
 
64 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 who loved the lore of his native land^ was often 
 put to silence by the questions or remarks made 
 upon the subject by the prisoner. Indeed, he 
 could discuss the merits of various authors, 
 both foreign and native, as if every hne of their 
 works were familiar to him ; and on the theme 
 of poetry, his eloquence was unparalleled. 
 But it was not always that he chose these sub- 
 jects in his conversations with William, whom 
 he would often question on his future prospects 
 or immediate concerns, with an air of interest, 
 and oiFer advice in any matter of difficulty in 
 an unassuming, though judicious manner. 
 
 " You are later than usuaV^ he said one day, 
 as the latter entered the garden; ^^the value 
 of half an hour should be considered in our 
 limited interviews." 
 
 "Did you but know," repHed Chiford, "the 
 ingenious arts I have practised to rid myself of 
 one of my countrymen, whom I have often 
 mentioned to you, and who detained me, in a 
 most unwelcome manner with lengthy and 
 tedious discussions^ you would commend my 
 diligence." , 
 
 " You appear little flattered," observed Du- 
 mont, "by his obvious partiality, which is not 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 65 
 
 diminished by your indifference or reserve. But 
 tell me^ is there no single point of analogy in 
 your opinions^ no solitary instance in which you 
 may derive either pleasure or profit from his 
 discourse ?^^ 
 
 ^^ No^ ^^ replied William^ " and yet I would 
 not wrong Mr. Stanley by misrepresentation ; 
 he is better informed on many subjects than the 
 men with whom we come in contact ; and what- 
 ever may be our opinion of the cause he es- 
 pouses^ his firmness and devotion are in them- 
 selves worthy of admiration. But to say the 
 truth^ there are comparatively few to whom I 
 look for interchange of ideas; and if I be no 
 longer regarded as an agreeable member of so- 
 ciety, it is you, Dumont, who are answerable for 
 all the blame that is attached to my conduct.'^ 
 
 The prisoner smiled. "Make your depo- 
 sition/^ he said ; ^^ I am well accustomed to 
 novel charges, but this last is totally incom- 
 prehensible.^' 
 
 ^^ The reason is obvious ; I leave your pre- 
 sence with every opinion and word you have 
 uttered, fresh in my memory ; I enter into the 
 company of others, and find nothing but empti- 
 ness and frivoUty, and my silent and involun- 
 
66 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 tary comparisons call forth a smile upon my 
 countenance which people look upon as scorn- 
 ful. Even if I listen to sentiments which 
 have in them the spring of truths the lack 
 of eloquence usually robs the subject of half 
 its charrns^ and fails in conveying a clear 
 conception to the mind. But^ perhaps/' he 
 added^ laughing^ " the greatest disadvantage I 
 reap from your acquaintance^ is an increase of 
 self-love. A little while since^ had any one 
 spoken slightingly of me, or conducted them- 
 selves uncourteously towards me, I should have 
 resented it according to the laws of custom 
 alone ; but now the remembrance of your 
 friendship would raise me so far above those 
 who dared to treat me with contumely, that I 
 question if the silence of scorn would not be 
 the most formidable weapon I could use.'^ 
 
 "Add to this/^ rephed Dumont, "that you 
 have relieved the painful hours of a solitary 
 man, that you have born his eccentricities with 
 patience, cheered his gloomy moments, and 
 above all, proved to him that there still exists 
 one being in the world worthy of confidence 
 and esteem. Perhaps, William, after what has 
 passed between us to-day, I may appear want- 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 6? 
 
 ing in delicacy when I request you to assist 
 me; — but necessity is in some instances a 
 tyrant that will listen to no scruples/^ 
 
 " You have but to tell me what you desire/^ 
 exclaimed William^ calmly^ but earnestly; ^^I 
 would httle scruple risking my life to serve you/^ 
 
 ^^ Do you make no conditions/^ inquired 
 Dumont^ ^^ere you enter blindly into an en- 
 gagement ? '^ 
 
 " No/^ replied CliiFord ; ^^the man who w^ould 
 qualify an act of friendship has already destroyed 
 the obligation P' 
 
 "You are wrongs William/^ he said; "the 
 motive may be a generous^ but it is an im- 
 prudent one, and never suffer yourself to be 
 misled by that sophistry, which would con- 
 found prudence with a calculation arising purely 
 from self-interest. Prudence, when combined 
 with generosity and candour, is a noble and 
 useful quality, and one that preserves us from 
 any temptation to make use of artifice and 
 subterfuge, too often forced by circumstances 
 on those whose natural disposition is frank 
 and open. You will think me inconsistent,^^ 
 he added, "for asking a favour, and then quar- 
 relling with your readiness to grant it ; but. 
 
68 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 believe me^ I am not insensible to your kind- 
 ness. It is a matter of some importance to 
 me^ and cannot be attended with any e\Hl 
 consequences to yourself^ although it is need- 
 less to observe that the strictest secrecy will be 
 requisite.^^ 
 
 ^'^ Hush ! '' exclaimed William^ " I see the 
 general approaching; something appears to 
 have disturbed his usual tranquilhty. God 
 send he may not be the bearer of bad 
 tidings V 
 
 As De Brissac walked hurriedly up to the 
 spot where they were standings his manner 
 was evidently constrained^ and when he spoke 
 it was in an abrupt tone, under which he en- 
 deavoured to conceal his reluctance. 
 
 " M. Dumont/^ he began, " it is my painful 
 but imperative duty to inform you, that I have 
 this morning received orders which, I regret to 
 state, must be immediately enforced.'^ 
 
 William^s eye wandered alternately from the 
 general's distressed countenance, to that of 
 Dumont, which displayed the utmost uncon- 
 cern, as he awaited in silence the conclusion of 
 the intelligence. 
 
 " I must request you,'' continued De Brissac, 
 
THE STATE PRISONER, 69 
 
 with some hesitation_, " to follow me^ in order 
 that I may acquaint you with the changes that 
 are appointed to be made. The privilege of 
 walking in the open air is no longer to be ex- 
 tended to you^ and I grieve to say that Mr. 
 ClifFord^s visits must be discontinued for the 
 present.^^ 
 
 Dumont's lip curled with a bitter smile, as 
 tlie general finished his . speech ; but when 
 William broke forth into a passionate philippic 
 on the caprices of the government, the prisoner 
 pacified him with a word, and turning to the 
 governor, whose brow began to cloud at these 
 violent expressions, he excused the ardour of 
 youth and affection. Then thanking the old man 
 for the regret he testified in fulfilhng an unplea- 
 sant duty, he followed him without delay, bidding 
 William farewell, in a tone of encouragement 
 which could not however dispel his sadness. 
 
 When they were gone, Chffbrd looked round, 
 scarcely sensible of what had passed ; so sudden, 
 so unexpected was the separation, and then with 
 a heavy heart he left the fortress to return home. 
 His road lay through the Chapeau Rouge ; and 
 he hesitated whether or not he should pass 
 Madame D^Aubr^^^s house without going in. 
 
70 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 Since the day that Blanch had evinced so much 
 interest in the account of Dumont^ the two 
 had been invariably connected in his mind ; and 
 yet he felt a degree of hesitation, with regard 
 to entering, he had never before experienced. 
 While in this state of uncertainty, he was 
 attracted by the sight of Blanch on the bal- 
 cony. She was tending the little bower of 
 plants which distinguished their house from 
 its neighbours, and appeared busily employed 
 in cutting off the withered leaves and blighted 
 flowers. As William approached, she perceived 
 and saluted him gracefully : he already stood on 
 the threshold, but various reflections urged him 
 to refrain. At that moment a flower fell from 
 above at his feet ; it was an urifaded, spotless 
 Provins rose! and Clifford stooping hastily, 
 raised it from the pavement to his lips, and then 
 placed it in his bosom. The act might have 
 been an effect of simple gallantry ; but the ear- 
 nestness he displayed was not lost upon Blanch, 
 who in a few moments re-entered the window ; 
 and he walked on towards his dwelling. 
 
 Another regret was now added to his store : 
 that he loved Madame d^Aubrj^s niece with all 
 the ardour and passion that were natural to 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 7l 
 
 him^ he had long been conscious; but the 
 thought of gaining her affections, of inducing 
 her to share the fate of an exile, whose only 
 prospect was involved in uncertainty, was one 
 he had frequently driven from his mind. Yet 
 there was a magic in her presence, a spell 
 in the very tone of her voice, that weak- 
 ened the scruples of solitude, and wound 
 itself round his heart, in spite of every con- 
 trary resolution. Perhaps the possibility of 
 her departure had had a similar effect on 
 both, and had caused as strict an investigation 
 on his side as on hers. But there was more 
 doubt, more difficulty, in the part which he had 
 to enact, more uncertainty as to the path which 
 he should pursue. In moments of despondency 
 he would utterly relinquish every hope of de- 
 serving her love ; but when his spirits rebounded 
 ■with their natural buoyancy, William would feel 
 that there was that within him which allied him 
 too nearly to the noble nature of Blanch Cour- 
 tenay, to doubt that there existed a hidden tie 
 of sympathy between them. 
 
 The incident of the rose only entangled him 
 in further perplexity, and, in spite of himself, 
 he cherished the belief that Blanch had in- 
 
72 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 tentionally sacrificed the pride of her Uttle 
 garden. On the other hand, he dwelt with 
 deep sorrow on the danger that threatened 
 Dumont, and on the possibiUty of never seeing 
 him again, while he bitterly regretted the 
 deprivation of that ad\dce and sympathy, of 
 which he now stood doubly in need. He 
 also repented his reserve on the single subject 
 of his attachment, for William was anxious 
 to prove the extent of the confidence he 
 placed in his friend, by making him acquainted 
 with every particular of his short but not 
 unchequered life. 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 'JS 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 A FORTNIGHT passcd Sadly and slowly for 
 Clifford^ during which time his constant en- 
 treaties to visits or even temporarily share the 
 captivity of Dumont^ were firmly but not un- 
 graciously refused by De Brissac^ whose strict 
 performance of his duty almost amounted to 
 harshness in Cliiford's somewhat prejudiced 
 eyes. During this period he had rarely seen 
 Blanch^ and when they did meet it was only 
 in a crowded room, under circumstances that 
 precluded every opportunity of confidential con- 
 versation, and led him into no danger of betrav- 
 ing his feehngs. Still he fancied that her man- 
 ner was changed, there was an averted look, 
 an assumed gaiety, and occasionally he perceived 
 a slight tremour in the hand, though it was ex- 
 tended as usual. At the expiration of the fort- 
 night, to his unspeakable satisfaction, WiUiam 
 
 VOL. I. E 
 
74 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 received permission to visit Dumont in the cell 
 to which he had that morning been removed, 
 and after their first salutation, Clifford could 
 not forbear remarking in no gentle terms on the 
 small and confined size of the apartment. 
 
 Dumont smiled. " The dayhght, and air of 
 heaven are both allowed to enter here/' he 
 exclaimed, ^^ and the atmosphere is neither so 
 damp, nor so unwholesome as the one I have 
 just quitted. So you see, William, to me this 
 room is desirable.^^ 
 
 Clifford looked at the speaker for some time 
 earnestly. ^^ Good heavens !" he cried, " how 
 changed you are ; your cheeks are wan, and 
 your eye has lost its fire — are you ill, Dumont V^ 
 
 ^*^No,^^ replied the other, calmly; '^but it is 
 always requisite for me to breathe the fresh air, 
 and the necessity of total inaction, and of re- 
 maining in one position for any length of time 
 together, generally causes extreme lassitude.^' 
 
 " Is it possible,^' cried William, indignantly, 
 '^ that they have dared to treat you thus ? Is it 
 possible that the power which claims a divine 
 origin can be thus perverted, and that tyranny 
 and oppression have singled you out as their 
 victim ?^' 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. Jo 
 
 " How can you constitute yourself as judge/' 
 exclaimed Dumont, calmly^, ^' when ignorant of 
 every relative circumstance of the case? Or what 
 grounds have you for supposing the treatment 
 I receive^ either unjust or unnecessary ? You 
 place me in an uncommon position, Clifford, by 
 obliging me to stand on the defensive against 
 my own cause, which you so warmly, though 
 somewhat thoughtlessly advocate. But to change 
 a subject on which we do not fully understand 
 each other ; have you forgotten the request I was 
 about to make at our last meeting ? I wish you 
 to provide me with writing utensils, which you 
 will of course carry away when you leave the 
 Fort.^' 
 
 William rose with his usual promptitude to 
 seek what the prisoner desired, but Dumont 
 stopped him by saying, 
 
 '^ You can bring them to-morrow, when we 
 shall meet in our old rendezvous, the garden ; 
 the shortness of your visit, and smft return 
 might create suspicion." He paused for some 
 moments, and then added, " You have remarked 
 on my appearance, and I will do the same on 
 yours, William ; for though I cannot say your 
 cheek is pale, or your eyes dull, there are certain 
 E 2 
 
76 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 symptoms of moral suifering^ which are very 
 evident to me. What is it that preys upon your 
 mind, or rather your heart> and who is it that 
 usurps my place in both ? " 
 
 Determined as William was to bestow his whole 
 confidence on Dumont, and anxious as he felt 
 to consult him on many points, it would natu- 
 rally be supposed that he heard this question 
 with pleasure. He found, however, that the 
 task was more difficult than he imagined, and 
 it was some time before he gained sufficient 
 courage from the animating nature of the sub- 
 ject, to lay before his friend in unvarnished 
 colours, the secret of his attachment for Blanch 
 Courtenay. He then described exactly the si- 
 tuation in which he stood with regard to her, 
 and the blame that he ascribed to himself, for 
 having even by a look, betrayed the intensity 
 of his feelings. 
 
 "The severity of your opinions on the sex, 
 in general," continued CHfford, "and the ga- 
 thering frown on your brow, but too easily lielp 
 me to your answer ; but she is so far removed 
 both in bearing and disposition from the women 
 of the day, and, pardon me, of this nation in 
 particular, that a general argument will not 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 77 
 
 hold good with one who appears of a diiFerent 
 century, nay, even of a different world/' 
 
 Dumont did not answer him for several mo- 
 ments, and when he did so, the tone of his 
 voice sounded harsh to his companion. 
 
 ^^I have long observed,^' he said, ^' that there 
 was something on your mind, and partly guessed 
 the truth, but not to this fearful extent ; for I 
 trusted to that discrimination which you have 
 always evinced, as a safeguard from such blind- 
 ness. That you might allow a comely face or 
 a graceful form to haunt your fancy for a short 
 period, that you might consider woman in her 
 true light as the grace and ornament of society, 
 I could easily conceive; but I hoped, nay, I be- 
 lieved, that your mind was too much set on 
 high and lofty speculations to allow such a 
 pitiable usurpation of the throne of reason as 
 you now display. You boast of the superiority 
 of your countryw^oman, but from whom has she 
 imbibed these rigid principles and refined ideas ? 
 Can it be from the general example of her own 
 sex ? from the admonitory speeches of her nu- 
 merous suitors, or the judicious education of the 
 wise relative whom you have mentioned ? " 
 
 He turned towards CliiFord, who, for tlie 
 first time was deeply wounded by the prisoner's 
 
78 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 language. ^' From none of these/^ he replied, 
 his eye kindling as he spoke, " but from the 
 sanctuary of her own spotless heart, from the 
 innate purity, which no external contagion can 
 destroy, from the noble rectitude, and the ele- 
 vated understanding which are the gift of God 
 himself, and which have secured to her the de- 
 voted and unchangeable love of a heart that 
 never loved before.^^ 
 
 Dumont shook his head with a melancholy 
 smile. '^ It may be well to talk, perhaps even 
 to think thus,^' he replied ; " it is a sweet de- 
 ception though an ephemeral one. But when 
 the day of conviction comes, when the idol we 
 have worshipped lies prostrate in the dust ; or 
 when the lip whose impassioned accents still 
 vibrate in our ear, doles out its flimsy tale of 
 falsehood or extenuation, or with shameless 
 insolence exults in the success of the imposture 
 and the credulity of its victim, — oh ! that is an- 
 guish which rankles and festers in the inmost 
 heart, and spreads its baneful influence over 
 the whole soul.^^ 
 
 " Dumont,'^ said William, ^^ I have unin- 
 tentionally awakened some painful recollections 
 which can alone account for your speaking in 
 this manner, — But I forgive you; had you ever 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. /^ 
 
 been in the society of Blanch Courtenay, you 
 would neither wrong her^ nor wound me by 
 such language/^ 
 
 ^*^The language of experience is harsh and 
 ungenial, William/^ continued the prisoner; 
 ^^but from the lips of a friend^ at least, its 
 effects might be beneficial. I have observed, 
 and that too with regret, that you cannot love, 
 whatever be the character or the degree of your 
 affection, without placing implicit reliance on its 
 object. It is doubtless a noble fault, arising 
 from a consciousness of your own sincerity, but 
 it is a dangerous one, that must sooner or later 
 infuse a double portion of gall into the inevita- 
 ble cup of affliction. ^^ 
 
 ^^ And yet,^^ rejoined Clifford, ^^ are you not 
 acting in direct opposition to the sentiments 
 you inculcate, and the principles of action you 
 display, in the friendship you have avowed, and 
 the trust you have placed in me ? " 
 
 " No,^^ replied the other eagerly, ^' I have fre- 
 quently encountered envy, hatred, and tyranny 
 in man, but hypocrisy and deceit are the more 
 especial attributes of woman ! It is she who 
 loves to make a superior soul the sport of her 
 caprice, and to degrade a higher intellect to a 
 point far below her own. Oh how often have 
 
80 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 I thought when gazing on some lovely form^ or 
 when recalling that which once stood unrivalled 
 in the breathing worlds that such beautiful fal- 
 lacies^ were only designed by heaven^ as an evi- 
 dence of the futility of all earthly expectations \" 
 Tliey were both silent, and William appeared 
 greatly distressed. ^^ With what pleasure/^ he 
 said, " did I anticipate this moment, and with 
 Avhat certainty did I calculate on your advic6 
 and sympathy! It is the first time, Dumont, 
 you have disappointed me.^^ 
 
 ^' You have my sympathy unasked, William,'^ 
 replied the prisoner, '' and my counsels when 
 you require them. If I have spoken in bitter- 
 ness, attribute it to the revival of painful recol- 
 lections, which are too vivid to be subdued 
 either by time or retrospection. To-morrow 
 we will renew this conversation, for the castle 
 clock is cruelly audible, and De Brissac merits 
 obedience from us both. Forgive me, William, 
 if I have pained you,^^ he added, "I had no such 
 intention.^^ He extended his hand, which his com- 
 panion pressed sorrowfully, and left the garden. 
 The perturbed and anxious state of his mind 
 did not prevent Clifford from fulfilling the pri- 
 soner's injunctions, and, when he met him the 
 next morning, he acquainted Dumont that the 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 81 
 
 materials for writing were in his possession. 
 No sooner had he given this information^ than 
 his eye was attracted by De Brissac^ who en- 
 tered the garden in conversation with another 
 officer at that moment. WilUam's heart beat 
 quick; the dread of some counter-order relating 
 to Dumont, with the probability of failure or 
 delay, in whatever scheme the prisoner pro- 
 posed, combining to annoy, and alarm him. 
 Dumont read what was passing in his mind, 
 and was not insensible to this silent proof 
 of attachment. The general, however, merely 
 saluted the friends in passing, and left the 
 garden with his companion. Dumont then 
 led Clifford to one particular spot which (as 
 he had already ascertained) was not visi- 
 ble from any window in the castle, and there 
 received the writing utensils from the hands of 
 WiUiam. The latter watched with admiration 
 the firmness of the writer^s hand, as he traced, 
 quickly, though calmly, a few words in a pecu- 
 liar cipher, and then consigned the paper to his 
 friend. 
 
 '^ When you leave me, AVilUam," he said, 
 
 go into the Rue ; at the fifth door on 
 
 the right hand side lives the Duke de P . 
 
 E 3 
 
82 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 You will find no difficulty in gaining admission 
 by saying you come from the friend with whom 
 he parted last in the corridor of the Tuileries. 
 Immediately on seeing him deliver the note, 
 and bring back any answer he may think fit to 
 send ; but, above all, do not misjudge his timid, 
 incredulous manner, for he is a sincere friend, 
 and one who would risk much to ser\e me/' 
 
 Clifford received these directions \\'ith ear- 
 nest attention, and promised to execute them 
 with precision. They then paced the terrace 
 together for some moments ; but for the first 
 time there was restraint between them. Wil- 
 liam could not forget the severe wound, which 
 his pride (the pride of affection) had suffered, 
 and he blamed himself for having exposed 
 Blanch to depreciation. He maintained, there- 
 fore, a haughty silence as he walked by the side 
 of Dumont, and yet, with tlie waywardness of 
 human nature, he felt at that moment more 
 than ever prepared to serve him, at any per- 
 sonal risk or inconvenience. The prisoner 
 either did not remark his unusual manner, or 
 he affected not to do m) ; but after speaking 
 for a short time, on indifferent subjects, he 
 added, " I will request you, William, to pro- 
 ceed immediately on this errand. As I go tt» 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 83 
 
 my cell I will solicit De Brissac^s permission 
 to see you again on your return. But let me 
 repeat once more^ that^ though of the utmost 
 consequence to myself^ the affair is of that 
 nature,, which the liberal-minded general him- 
 self would countenance^ if the strict regulations 
 of the fort^ permitted any external communi- 
 cation/' 
 
 William undertook the commission without 
 hesitation^ while his intimate acquaintance with 
 the localities of Bordeaux brought him in a 
 
 short time to the Rue de la . The door 
 
 was opened by a servant in a variegated livery^ 
 who asked Clifford's business two or three times 
 before the answer could penetrate through in- 
 numerable strata of powder and pomatum to a 
 brain of no common solidity. He at length 
 referred William to the duke's own valet, who 
 now made his appearance in the shape of a 
 scented petit maitre. He regretted extremely, 
 in bad English, that Monsieur should have had 
 so much trouble, so long a walk (he looked 
 fatigued), for no purpose, but Monseigneur 
 had given strict orders no one was to be ad- 
 mitted, but the Duke de C — , the Marquis de 
 B — , or the Prince de G — . 
 
84 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 To do the man justice, he had, generally 
 speaking, a discriminating eye, yet he was sorely 
 puzzled by Clifford's appearance. The fact of 
 his paying a visit of ceremony for the first time 
 on foot, without equipage or retinue of any 
 kind, counterbalanced, in the valet^s estimation, 
 the natural dignity of the young Englishman's 
 manner. The more Clifford persisted, the more 
 obstinately he denied him admission ; till at 
 length the former wrote a few words (the sub- 
 stance of Dumont's message) on a slip of paper, 
 and begged it might be given to the duke. The 
 valet, annoyed at his perseverance, grew insolent, 
 and pushed it aside with little ceremony, saying 
 that his grace had forbidden him to take in any 
 petitions. The next moment, knocked down by 
 one severe blow, he measured \yith his length 
 the marble floor of the hall ; and Chfford 
 stepping coolly over his prostrate form, bade 
 his terrified comrade deliver the paper, in a 
 tone of authority which he durst not disobey. 
 
 He followed the servant up stairs, and was 
 ushered with few preliminaries into the presence 
 of the duke, who received him graciously. He was 
 tall and well made, with the manners of one who 
 had long been a resident in courts. His dress was 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 85 
 
 of the deepest mournings and Clifford fancied 
 there was something in his air shghtly resem- 
 bling Dumont. Not so the timidity with which 
 he spoke^ and the furtive glances he cast around 
 him^ as if fearful of being overheard. William 
 began by apologizing to him^ for the unprece- 
 dented manner in which he entered the house^ 
 but assured him that it was impossible to brook 
 the insolence of his servant. The duke replied, 
 by expressing his earnest wish, that the recep- 
 tion he met with from the master might efface 
 the recollection of a rude menial whom he had 
 so justly chastised. He then requested William 
 to acquaint him with the nature of his errand, 
 while the warmth and openness of the young 
 man^s manner, appeared to give him courage. 
 He read the note with some emotion, and then 
 turning to Clifford, inquired if the writer were 
 known to him? In brief but comprehensive 
 terms, WilUam informed the duke of the ori- 
 gin of their acquaintance, and the intimacy and 
 frequency of their subsequent interview. 
 
 The duke was greatly moved. " Great God,^^ 
 he said, " how incalculable are the chances of 
 life ! you will see him again to-morrow, per- 
 haps to-day ; and T — , tell me," he continued, 
 
86 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 " is he well ? Does not his noble nature yield 
 beneath prolonged captivity ? Is the magic of 
 his eloquence unimpaired ? Has his eye still 
 the power of reading every secret thought ?" 
 
 '' Yes/^ replied William ; " and moreover he 
 has had the art of attaching one^ who^ a few 
 months ago was ignorant of that existence, to 
 which his own is now closely bound. Words 
 are vain, my lord, and friendship scorns pro- 
 fession, but to you I may say without reserve, 
 that there are few risks I would not encounter, 
 to serve one I love as a brother, and honour as 
 a father.'' 
 
 The duke listened with evident pleasure, 
 and, as the eager young man concluded, he 
 walked across the room, and, opening a ^^Titing- 
 table, took out a small portrait. He then 
 beckoned to Clifford, and inquired, in a low 
 tone, ^^ If it still resembled him,'' 
 
 It was an exquisitely finished miniature, in 
 the splendid dress of a courtier of Louis the 
 Fourteenth's time, with various military en- 
 signs in the background, and an armorial shield, 
 the bearings of which were effaced. William 
 bent over the speaking features for some time, 
 in silence. 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 87 
 
 " There is but a slight difference/' he rephed ; 
 " he is thinner now, and his hair is tinged with 
 grey." 
 
 '^ The duke sighed deepl)-^ replaced the por- 
 trait, and, writing a few words in the same 
 peculiar character on a piece of paper, gave it 
 to Clifford. 
 
 ^^ I will detain you no longer,^^ he said ; ^^ but 
 before we part let me adjure you, by all you 
 hold sacred, not to betray this trust. On those 
 few sentences may depend a life that should be 
 preserved against some future day, when his 
 ungrateful country once more acknowledges 
 him as the noblest of her sons. You know 
 not, you must not know,'^ he repeated, ear- 
 nestly and emphatically, '^ whose life is in your 
 hands V 
 
 " My lord,'' rephed William, as he placed 
 the paper in his bosom, ^^ I do not ask ! What 
 I already know is sufficient for me. Be under 
 no anxiety ; the paper shall be conveyed." 
 
 The duke pressed his hand. '^ I leave Bor- 
 deaux to-night," he said, ^' but I trust we may 
 one day meet again. In the mean time, fare- 
 well. Tell Gaston he lives in Albert's lieart." 
 
 They parted; and as Clifford again passed 
 
88 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 through the streets of Bordeaux^ the distance 
 appeared interminable, and the salutations and 
 greetings of his acquaintance were insupportable. 
 Still he walked steadily on, while, with one hand 
 concealed in his bosom, he grasped the paper 
 with anxious firmness. But all was propitious ; 
 a permission to see Dumont awaited him at the 
 gates, and with all due speed he delivered the 
 note, and gave him every particular of his audi- 
 ence of the duke, about whom Dumont ex- 
 pressed a corresponding interest, though with 
 his wonted composure. The prisoner changed 
 the subject instantly, however, as was always the 
 case when the conversation turned for a moment 
 towards himself, and, after a few words on 
 other topics, he returned to the matter they had 
 been discussing on the preceding day. His 
 language had lost its acrimony ; his reasoning 
 was mild ; and the gentleness of his voice and 
 manner almost amounted to tenderness. He 
 assured William that he had reflected deeply on 
 the subject, and though he sincerely regretted 
 that his friend had formed such an attachment, 
 he was conscious of having given Clifford just 
 cause of off'ence by his language. He now 
 appeared willing to admit the possibility of 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 89 
 
 Blanch's superiority in some particulars, but 
 had, he said, one question to put on that score. 
 
 ^' If your countrywoman does indeed possess 
 all those noble and disinterested qualities which 
 form the poet's notion of the love of woman, 
 and if, as you seem convinced, her heart has 
 never yet been given to another, why should 
 she not bestow it upon one who loves her so 
 devotedly, and what obstacle could the world 
 then raise against your united affection ?" 
 
 " Alas ! Dumont," replied the other, sadly, 
 " how often must I remind you that I am an 
 exile, and that my scanty fortune barely enables 
 me to appear as becomes the descendant of 
 our house. Could I ask her, to whom the 
 richest and noblest inhabitants of the province 
 are paying their useless homage, to share with 
 me the curse of a nameless wanderer? Might 
 I not, by so doing, justly incur the derision of 
 my rivals, the mockery of her ambitious rela- 
 tive, or the cold compassion of Blanch Courte- 
 nay ? No, I must not dream of such a thing ; 
 for I dare not believe she loves me ; I dare not 
 beheve that I possess the twofold blessings of 
 friendship and love ; but did any thing give me 
 so bright a hope, oh, then, Dumont, no pre- 
 
90 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 conceived scruple could withhold me from 
 confessing how deeply and devotedly I love 
 her \" 
 
 As he concluded^ he looked appealingly to- 
 wards the prisoner. Dumont shook his head^ 
 and again lamented William^s infatuation^ but 
 expressed his belief that the moment was passed 
 when argument or counsel could bring con^-ic- 
 tion. He therefore urged William to determine 
 his fate at once, recommending him, however, 
 not to breathe a word relative to the prospect of 
 succession, lest he should ever, in future years, 
 suspect that this consideration weighed w^ith 
 her in the scale, or lest her expectations might 
 never be reaUzed. 
 
 ^^ Your happiness is at stake,^^ he exclaimed ; 
 and either way decision is preferable to sus- 
 pense. But if the misfortunes of your present 
 situation prove the only barrier to the success 
 of your suit, forget and despise her whose sordid 
 nature prefers the advantages of material wealth 
 to the riches of the mind, or whose pitiful 
 ambition esteems the empty shadow of rank 
 above the nobility of such a heart as yours.^^ 
 
 He paused, and, bidding William farewell, 
 expressed his wush to see him, as usual, on the 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 91 
 
 morrow. As Clifford again left the fort, he en- 
 countered De Brissac_, and his conscience smote 
 him, when he recollected how comparatively 
 seldom they now met. The old man, however, 
 himself pleaded increase of duty, as an excuse 
 for not having sought so much as formerly 
 the delightful society of his young friend. 
 There is no occasion on which we are more 
 Ukely to receive an apology mth indulgence, 
 than when our conscience hints that the matter 
 requires one from ourselves, and William was 
 greatly relieved by finding the general did not 
 lay the fault to his charge. 
 
 ^^ To-night,^' said De Brissac, ^^ I am going 
 to commit an act of which I have not been 
 guilty since the first week you arrived here. 
 But Madame D'Aubry's invitation is couched 
 in peremptory terms, and ^ Honneur et les 
 dames' has always been the device of the De 
 Brissacs. Besides, it is long since I have 
 seen ^ La belle Anglaise,'" he added, looking 
 archly into William^s face, " and I am not so 
 blind to her charms as she most probably is to 
 mine." He smiled significantly. " The Clif- 
 fords have always chosen their brides well,^^ he 
 continued ; " your mother, William, was the 
 fairest of the day.^^ 
 
92 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 CHAPTER VI, 
 
 The day had passed in a very different manner 
 with William and Blanch^ and yet it had been 
 one of feverish excitement to both. Madame 
 D'Aubry's preparations for the evening^s fete^ 
 which was for the moment the chief subject of 
 expectation in Bordeaux^ were too engrossing 
 to allow her to wonder at^ or even remark^ the 
 abstraction of her niece, of whom nevertheless 
 her thoughts were full. For her, the fete was 
 given ; to gratify her tastes, as Madame D^ Aubry 
 conceived them (though her ideas of Blanches 
 taste were not always the most correct) all par- 
 ticulars were arranged; and if ever Madame 
 D'Aubry calculated for an instant on the plea- 
 sure, or the glory she herself might derive, 
 every selfish feeling was quickly swallowed up 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 93 
 
 in the thought of her niece^s triumph. She 
 knew that few — in her opinion^ indeed, none — 
 could compete with Blanch in beauty, and to 
 enhance the loveliness for which she anticipated 
 such universal admiration, she resolved to rehn- 
 quish her most costly jewels^ a sacrifice of her 
 own magnificence which plainly indicated the 
 strength of her affection. In the mean time 
 Blanch suffered the preparations to proceed 
 without taking even that happy interest therein, 
 that the young unoccupied heart feels in mat- 
 ters which, if considered seriously, might seem 
 trifling and idle. She suffered her aunt to 
 arrange the whole, without even a word of re- 
 monstrance from her own better taste, and 
 even allowed her to dictate in regard to that 
 important point, — so seldom yielded by woman 
 to the direction of any one else, — her own dress 
 and appearance. It was not that Blanch looked 
 forward with careless indifference to the ap- 
 proaching evening ; but it was, on the contrary, 
 that her whole mind was occupied with the 
 thought of events which might or might not 
 occur, on that very occasion : — events on which 
 depended how her future life was to flow on, 
 whether as a stream which, clear and bright. 
 
94 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 may be dashed indeed from rock to rock^ and 
 fretted by a thousand obstacles^ but still re- 
 tains the sparkling of never dying hope ; or as a 
 current dull and heavy^ stealing on perhaps to 
 all eyes in calm tranquillity, but yet mingled at 
 its fountain with some dark and sombre matter, 
 which stains all its course with the same gloomy 
 hue. Her feelings towards her lover had as- 
 sumed, since last we saw her, a far more decided 
 character; the absence of William had first sur- 
 prised, and then wounded her, and as she now 
 viewed the preparations, and listlessly replied 
 to her aunt's repeated questions, she could no 
 longer hide from herself, that it depended on 
 him alone, to convert the fairy scene Madame 
 D'Aubry's house was about to exhibit, into a 
 realitv of enchantment, or reduce it to a mere 
 childish pageant. A continual presentiment 
 haunted her, that a crisis in her fate was ap- 
 proaching, and she feared lest William should 
 seize the opportunity of virtually relinquishing 
 all claim to her hand, by absenting himself from 
 the fete, or benefit by the crowd to manifest his 
 indifference, so as to be observed by her alone. 
 Blanch loved ! and the conviction that she did 
 so, without the certainty of being beloved in 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 95 
 
 return^ could not subdue the passion of her 
 heart. She loved ! to others the fact might be a 
 matter of no moment^ an epoch of no interest. 
 But to her^ it was the fulfilment of her hearths 
 dream^ the accomplishment of its prophecies. 
 The ideal world which she had created for her- 
 self, peopled with fairy beings_, and endowed 
 with all the shadowy charms of imagination^ 
 was like some fertile garden^ on which nature 
 and art have alike lavished their bounties. But 
 he who walks alone, even amid such real scenes 
 of fascination, pines for an associate in his plea- 
 sures, a companion whose heart will expand in 
 all the s)Tnpathy of enjoyment ; and thus did 
 Blanch feel amid the beings of her own fancy. 
 Until the moment she had seen William, the 
 gates of her intellectual paradise had been 
 closed, and though she loved to wander in this 
 region of her own creation, rather than amid all 
 the cold realities of life, Blanch had often felt 
 and acknowledged the insufficiency of its soli- 
 tude, and now lingered on the threshold to admit 
 him, whom her choice had qualified for en- 
 trance. The evening which was now approach- 
 ing was to prove, she fancied, whether he would 
 be a willing guest, and she awaited the ap- 
 
9G THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 pointed hour, with an anxiety in no degree 
 inferior to that of her aunt, but of a very- 
 different nature. 
 
 The taste for pageantry, and quaint de- 
 vices, which our remote ancestors so dearly 
 loved, had by no means as yet become extinct. 
 Kings and princes still danced in ballets, and 
 performed parts in allegories, and Madame 
 D'Aubry who had resolved that her fete should 
 exhibit royal magnificence spared no pains to 
 approach the formal and fantastic arrangements 
 of Versailles. Scarcely had the shades of even- 
 ing begun to prevail, when the exterior of the 
 Hotel D^Aubry presented a brilliant mass of 
 illumination, while a military' guard at once 
 adorned and defended the gates. Every thing 
 appeared to be conducted on a new scale, not a 
 servant was in attendance, but the guests 
 passed through a long corridor, the sides of 
 which were lined with beautiful plants, until 
 they arrived before a portico, over which was 
 an illuminated inscription, " Salle de Junon.'^ 
 The folding doors then flew open and disco- 
 vered the hostess seated on an elevation at the 
 upper end of the room, attended by various 
 nymphs, some subaltern deities, and a brace 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 9? 
 
 of peacocks, which bore a most respectably 
 natural appearance. It might be questioned, if 
 
 •' The Empress of Heaven, 
 The Goddess of the majestic ejes," 
 
 would have been perfectly satisfied with the 
 personal charms of her representative ; but cer- 
 tain it is, that Juno herself might have envied 
 the splendour of her namesake^s attire, or bar- 
 tered the cloudy glories of Olympus, for the 
 substantial magnificence of the ^^ SaUe de 
 Junon.^' 
 
 There were several passages branching from 
 the central apartment, which led to the domi- 
 nions of various deities, but it was not until the 
 greater part of the society was assembled, that 
 the orchestra commenced a low symphony. 
 Immediately a winged boy descended from the 
 ceiling, and alighted before a large curtain, at 
 the extremity of the room. He waved his hand, 
 and as the veil rose slowly the little god led the 
 way into the '^' Bosquet de DianeP It was a 
 scene of perfect and beautiful deception, a vista 
 consisting of an avenue of natural trees, dimly 
 lighted by small green lamps, which hung like 
 glow-worms on the branches, was terminated 
 
 VOL. I. F 
 
98 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 by a tree of superior growth, over which shone 
 a crescent moon. Silently, almost breathlessly, 
 did the crowd follow their childish guide, who 
 on arriving at the termination of the avenue, 
 climbed the tree with alacrity, and nesthng 
 among the boughs, pointed to the turning of 
 the gallery and declared his errand completed, 
 and his power at an end. All eyes were fixed 
 intently on a moving machine of material 
 clouds which cleared away, and discovered a 
 scene that must have equalled every expecta- 
 tion, even in that age of pomp and splendour. 
 In a cavern glittering with stalactites, and ver- 
 dant with moss, down whose rocky side flowed 
 a limpid stream, reposed the goddess Diana. 
 Her couch was composed of a tiger skin, and 
 at her feet crouched two large stag-hounds, 
 while in the distance, a youthful nymph was 
 caressing and pacifying a half startled gazelle. 
 The attendants of the goddess, who were many 
 and well chosen, were grouped in diff'erent parts 
 of the cavern ; and as the whole scene met the 
 sight, an unanimous shout burst from the ad- 
 miring spectators, and the representative of 
 Diana, with a timidity that was celestial in 
 nothing but grace, stepped forward to greet her 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 99 
 
 most distinguished guests, and to admit them 
 to her sanctuary. 
 
 She was dressed with taste more pure than 
 was usual in those times; for although the 
 whole scene had been arranged by Madame 
 D'Aubry and an artist of great celebrity in 
 Bordeaux, without any opposition on the part 
 of Blanch, yet her own good judgment had 
 silently banished from her person, every thing 
 that was absurd or anomalous, in the French 
 costume of the day. A robe of emerald velvet 
 was looped above the ankle, by two large gems, 
 her long and luxuriant hair hung in golden 
 waves over her shoulders, and a circlet and cres- 
 cent of diamonds glittered on her forehead. Her 
 bow and quiver were curiously wTOught in sil- 
 ver, and the sandal which displayed the perfect 
 modelling of her foot and ankle, was of the same 
 material. Corresponding with the cavern, on 
 the opposite side, was another recess in which 
 stood the altar of Diana, surmounted by a fawn 
 beautifully executed in marble, and encircled by 
 a hedge of evergreens, which formed a pleasing 
 retreat from the glare and heat of the lamps. 
 
 The gallantry of the Bordellois was exercised 
 during the evening, in the various offerings 
 f2 
 
100 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 which were placed on the altar. Wreaths of 
 significant flowers^ and garlands of immortelles, 
 from whence many a billet protruded^ and amid 
 whose leaves an occasional gem glittered_, were 
 suspended on the neck of the sculptured animal. 
 The crowd was so dense, that Blanch could 
 scarcely distinguish one person from another, 
 
 until the Prince de C stepped forward and 
 
 led her into the ball-room. He was a foreigner 
 of distinction, who had only that day arrived 
 in Bordeaux, and claimed an unquestioned right 
 of precedency. 
 
 Dazzled by the transition from darkness to 
 light, half dizzy with the sudden apparition of 
 so many people ; but above all, trembling from 
 inward excitement, Blanch took the princess 
 arm, in passive silence, and stood by his side 
 several moments before she could bring herself 
 to speak — when she did so, her remarks were 
 but ill assorted with the deep and all engrossing 
 nature of the thoughts that occupied her mind. 
 Now her eye Avandered hurriedly over the 
 moving mass before her, while her heart sick- 
 ened with disappointment as she examined every 
 part of the room, but in vain. Now as a fresh 
 group of people passed in review, she exj^eri- 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 101 
 
 enced a reluctance to convince herself, he was not 
 among them, while occasionally an apprehension 
 that the prince might detect her anxiety, called 
 back her glance, and fixed it on the ground. 
 In vain did she try to appease the storm within, 
 in vain did she recal the memory of those placid 
 moments, when every object was viewed through 
 the calm medium of a mind at ease. Mortified 
 at the failure of every attempt at self-command, 
 Blanch tortured herself by dweUing on the possi- 
 bihty of William's indifference, but the whispers 
 of pride, were drowned by the voice of newly- 
 awakened passion. The modesty of her nature 
 shrunk beneath the consciousness of being a 
 slave to feelings, whose intensity she believed 
 could only be palliated, by the certainty that 
 they were mutual. All this, and much more 
 passed within the little world of Blanch's breast, 
 as she stood with a hundred eyes upon her, by 
 the side of the prince, and mechanically fol- 
 lowed the intricate figures of the dance. Little 
 did he or any one there know of the secret work- 
 ings, which brought the blood to her cheek, and 
 then left it colourless, which compressed her 
 lips, lest her tongue should prove traitor, and 
 which gave her young eye a restless and anxious 
 
102 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 expression very different from the glance of 
 tranquil enjoyment. The prince could not fail 
 to observe the peculiarity of her manner^ and 
 the unconnected strain both of her observ^ations 
 and replies^ but in his mind it was easily ac- 
 counted for. Her confusion might be the natu- 
 ral consequence of the honour conferred on her, 
 by dancing with him ! He thought^ however, 
 that she had recovered herself wonderfully, 
 when she asked him quite calmly to conduct 
 her to the balcony. 
 
 ^^ I am already fatigued/^ she said, smihng, 
 " and my cavern was not so cool, as you might 
 conceive from the petrifactions which adorn it.'^ 
 
 The Hotel D'Aubry boasted an extensive 
 fagade, with an ample supply of windows, every 
 two of which appropriated a verandah to them- 
 selves. The heat had induced many of the 
 guests to seek the open air, the lamps were 
 casting a blaze over the whole front of the build- 
 ing, multitudes of the common people were gaz- 
 ing up from the street, and multitudes of mask- 
 ers were thronging amongst the shrubs, which 
 decorated the wide balconies. The prince and 
 his fair companion, lingered to remark the con- 
 trast of the scene without and that within, and 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 103 
 
 to admire the indistinct outline of all the va- 
 rieties of costume. But they both became 
 silent^ as they heard a few preparatory notes 
 from the strings of a guitar; and a rich low- 
 voice singing immediately followed. They en- 
 deavoured to discover the singer^ but from the 
 sound, he appeared to be in the last balcony, 
 and the number of intervening objects entirely 
 concealed him. 
 
 THE EXILE'S HOME. 
 
 ** My Home ! my Home ! " in grief I cried, 
 
 When first I left its shore, 
 And unknown regions far and wide 
 
 Were spread my path before. 
 *' Though Nature in a lovelier guise 
 
 May shed her gifts around, 
 And History's classic visions rise 
 
 To consecrate the ground, 
 Oh give me back my Home," I cried, 
 And take the universe beside ! 
 
 For oh, it is a curse for me, 
 
 With aimless views to roam. 
 Where all I feel, and hear, and see. 
 
 Proclaim me far from Home." 
 'Twas thus I mourn'd my hapless plight, 
 
 As wide my footsteps stray' d, 
 W^hen lo, on my enraptured sight 
 
 A heavenly Iris play'd ; 
 And love, and hope, with hues combined. 
 Dispersed the shadows of my mind. 
 
104 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 No more I mourn vritli bitter tears 
 
 The land that gave me birth, 
 Where'er thou art henceforth appears 
 
 My native spot of earth ! 
 The pathless wild, the desert sand. 
 
 The rock in barren pride — 
 I'll hail them as my own dear land. 
 
 When thou art by my side, 
 Nor ever, ever ask to roam, 
 While in thy heart I find my home ! 
 
 Blanch^ with her cheek resting upon her hand, 
 leaned upon the balustrade^ drinking in every 
 sound, and perfectly heedless of the Prince de 
 C — ^s presence, although he condescended to 
 express his approbation, both of the voice and 
 the exquisite taste of the minstrel, and even 
 borrowed his poetry to address some well- 
 turned compliment to the fair goddess. But 
 she could not answer him, for in that brief 
 moment she had drunk deeply of the warm 
 chalice of hope, and the intoxicating draught 
 almost unfitted her for the cold exercise of 
 ceremony. In another instant Blanches agita- 
 tion would have been exposed to the eyes of 
 her companion : she felt the importance of the 
 moment, and with a strong exertion of resolu- 
 tion, and subduing exery sign of the inward 
 struggle, she re-entered the room, and was again 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 105 
 
 led forward to dance. Complaining of fatigue, 
 however, she afterwards declined every pressing 
 solicitation, and removed as far as possible from 
 the mass of the crowd ; but it was difficult for 
 her to find the retirement that she wished. By 
 degrees, however, she made her wish to be alone 
 evident ; and indeed it was easy to believe that 
 the excitement and exertion she had under- 
 gone, rendered a short interval of quiet, neces- 
 sary. One by one she dismissed the train of 
 danglers, and remained standing in the recess of 
 a window, occasionally turning her head to gaze 
 down into the street, occasionally letting her 
 eyes wander listlessly round the apartment. 
 Suddenly they were attracted by a young man 
 in the dress of a Provengal troubadour, whom 
 she had not before observed; and yet he was 
 one who could not pass unnoticed. He carried 
 his " cithern '^ across his shoulder, and, in ac- 
 cordance with the character he had assumed, 
 wore a short tunic of violet-coloured velvet, 
 bordered with miniver ; but his hose and bon- 
 net were of a full rich crimson. A gold chain 
 and medallion were the only ornaments of his 
 costume, excepting one large jewel that clasped 
 his plume, and was surmounted by a faded rose. 
 F 3 
 
106 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 It was not his dress alone, however, which 
 distinguished him from the crowd, or occasioned 
 the interest with which Blanch regarded him. 
 Tall and well-proportioned, an unstudied grace 
 pervaded his whole frame, and lent itself to the 
 shghtest movement of every limb. His hair 
 was of a peculiar shade of brown, but the eye- 
 brows decidedly black, while the outhne of his 
 head and features, though purely classical, did 
 not partake of that cold regularity which is too 
 often a scanty substitute for expression. On the 
 brow of her favourite child, the partial hand of 
 nature had inscribed, in legible characters, the 
 double aristocracy of mind and body, while the 
 beaming countenance was as noble as the heart 
 from which its radiance emanated. His unques- 
 tionable beauty, however, and the perfect taste 
 of his costume, were not sufficient of themselves 
 to detach him completely from the bulk of an as- 
 semblage where magnificence was profuse, and 
 personal graces not uncommon: yet to Blanch, 
 who now recognised him, he appeared to stand 
 in visible rehef from the multitude, alone and 
 unapproached, though surrounded by hundreds. 
 How dissimilar were the feelings thus excited 
 from the cold admiration, with which tlie eye of 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 107 
 
 indifference rests on mere external beauty! With 
 Blanch^ it was the heart, that led the eye cap- 
 tive in its own chosen direction. There was 
 for her but one group in the apartment — that 
 in which he stood : there seemed to her but 
 one single guest in her aunt^s crowded ball- 
 room, and that one was William Clifford ! 
 
 At this moment his eye caught hers, and he 
 advanced towards the spot where she was 
 standing. BlancVs head swam, the lights 
 danced before her eyes, and under the impulse 
 of the moment she would have given worlds to 
 have avoided him, to whom every thought of the 
 evening had been dedicated. She felt as if he 
 could read those thoughts : she felt he might 
 despise them. Again and again she struggled, 
 and called up every incentive to self-possession^ 
 till she acquired it, in a degree; she even 
 forced a smile of unmeaning courtesy on her 
 features, and by the time he stood by her side, 
 was comparatively calm and collected. 
 
 William addressed her in character, with the 
 assurance, that the fame of her 1)eauty alone had 
 called him from the shades of his native Pro- 
 vence, whose sons still excelled in the ^^ joyeuse 
 science. ^^ She answered him in the same strain, 
 
108 THE STATE PRISONER, 
 
 and accepting his proffered arm^ walked on by 
 his side for some moments in silence. 
 
 It happened at that instant that the an- 
 nouncement of some new and astonishing 
 attraction_, in the shape of an enchanted castle^ 
 a speaking bird_, or a singing fountain^ drew the 
 eager throng away in one direction ; but Blanch, 
 to whom the machinery of the entertainment 
 was well known^ expressed no desire to follow. 
 
 Without question or reply, therefore, they 
 turned down the Bosquet de Diane, which was 
 cooler, and at this moment quite deserted ; and 
 as they did so, Blanch, to break the silence, in- 
 quired for Dumont. 
 
 ^^ We were together this morning,^^ answered 
 Clifford ; " and our conversation was long, and 
 to me, deeply interesting, for we spoke of you ! ^^ 
 
 '' Of me ? '' faltered Blanch, with her breath 
 checked, and her eyes chained to the ground. 
 "Ofme? — '^ 
 
 ^^ Yes,'^ replied Clifford, eagerly ; " it is Du- 
 mont that has urged me to this : it is the im- 
 plicit confidence which I place in his opinion, 
 that has persuaded me to risk my last dream of 
 happiness. But now at least it is too late to 
 retract — my confession must be made, and I 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 109 
 
 confess it as I would a crime^ Blanch ! — I have 
 dared to love you- -dared to lift my eyes^ my 
 hopes, my thoughts to you ! Speak/^ he conti- 
 nued^ in a tremulous voice_, as she remained 
 silent, ^^ for every moment is a century ! Say 
 that you scorn me — that you hate me. No up- 
 braiding word, no uttered reproach shall ever 
 reach your ear; nor shall the object of your an- 
 ger ever cross your path again ; but in mercy speak 
 to me, for suspense is maddening — Blanch — 
 the devotion of my whole life is yours — I have 
 nothing more to offer ! ^^ 
 
 He knelt before her, and his agitation was 
 distressing to witness. Blanch leaned her head 
 against the cold marble of the altar, and moved 
 her lips, but without articulation : her bosom 
 heaved, and large single tears feU heavily from 
 her eyes. William took the hand that fell by 
 her side, and again called on her by name. She 
 suffered it to lay motionless in his for a mo- 
 ment, and then, with the joy of doubt removed 
 overpowering every thing else, she turned slowly 
 towards him, exclaiming, '^ William ! my own, 
 own WiUiam ! — ^' 
 
 He clasped her to his breast, and it was some 
 moments before she could disengage herself 
 from his impassioned embrace. 
 
110 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 ^' William/^ she then said^ smiUng through 
 the tears that now flowed peaceably^ althougli 
 the crimson blood coloured her cheek and 
 forehead^ " you judged me better than to think 
 I could find sufficiency in the vanity of such a 
 scene as this. There/^ she continued^ pointing 
 to the garlands, that hung upon the altar, " if 
 the weakness of my sex inspired a momentar}^ 
 triumph, it was only in the thought of being 
 worthy of you. The beauty they extol I now 
 rejoice in: the riches that I once contemned 
 I now covet. Alas, I have them not, William ! 
 but at least I can offer you a soul to appreciate 
 yours, and a heart that can love — ay, as de- 
 votedly as your own,^^ she added, half confused, 
 half playfully, ^^ though my glance be not so 
 eloquent — nor so hard to sustain V 
 
 William^s gaze was indeed rivetted on the 
 beautiful being, before him, but for some time 
 his happiness could not vent itself in words. 
 At length, waking from the enchanted dream 
 into which he had fallen, he raised the small 
 hand, that still lay in his, and pressed it eagerly 
 to his lips. Then with all the passionate ten- 
 derness of a heart running over with fresh joy, 
 he poured forth his tale of liope and fear in a 
 torrent of eloquence flowing from the united 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. Ill 
 
 sources of truth and aiFection. Nor did the 
 noble-minded youth forget to recal to the mind 
 of her he loved^ that he was an exile and a 
 wanderer. 
 
 She heard him to the end^ with her hand 
 still pressed in his^ and her eyes bowed beneath 
 the ardour of his gaze; but when he spoke of 
 exile^ she answered him in the words of his own 
 well-remembered song. 
 
 It is in moments such as these that the 
 " deep ideal river/^ suddenly swelled from a 
 thousand newly opened sources_, seems to over- 
 flow its boundaries^ bearing down every thing 
 in its course^ and giving its own bright hue to 
 aU over which it pours : it is in moments 
 such as these^ that the imagination cancels 
 her arrears wdth the hearty and exults in 
 the realization of their united visions : it is 
 in moments such as these^ that we hang as 
 it were upon the wings of Time^ to impede 
 his cruel progress, and wonder at his re- 
 luctance to prolong a period of such ecstasy. 
 They were both deeply impressed with the value 
 of that moment : they were both fully persuaded 
 that whatever might be the event of their future 
 lives, that moment would still remain a bright 
 
112 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 beacon^ in the track of retrospection^ a brilliant 
 star, in the constellation of memor)-, on which 
 they might gaze in common. The scene^ the 
 hour, the silence, all added their component 
 magic to heighten the enchantment, and brought 
 every fascination, that could excite the young and 
 eager mind to that emotion, against which it is 
 guarded in more cold and stately hours. Blanch 
 returned the ardour of William's gaze, with one 
 of subdued tenderness ; and as she leaned her 
 blushing face upon his shoulder, she trembled 
 at the joy, that was attended by such agita- 
 tion. Yet she was the first to recover herself, 
 and enjoining secrecy and discretion for the 
 time, begged he would not excite suspicion by 
 the frequency of his visits, until she had found a 
 proper moment to confide in Madame D'Aubry. 
 She had scarcely given this caution, when 
 they were startled by the sound of hurried foot- 
 steps, and leaving the bower by the opposite 
 direction, regained the ball-room. 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 113 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 It must ever be a strange and mysterious 
 feeling to the young hearty when it wakes to 
 the certainty of being beloved^ and recollects 
 itself in possession of that treasure^ which had 
 been the object of ambition for aU its imagi- 
 native hopes, the brightest point in all its 
 dreams. In such a moment, the host of wan- 
 dering thoughts, and undefined feelings, are 
 called home, and the wearied affections, having 
 found all that they sought, lull themselves to 
 repose, while gazing on the mighty prize they 
 have won. Oh ! there is a transport in the 
 knowledge, that our every look, our every word, 
 has an echo in another bosom ; there is a joy 
 that baffles description, in the thought that all 
 we value, that all we possess, be they virtues, 
 be they talents, be they Fortune^s gifts, may be 
 consecrated by bestowing them on another. 
 The mind, exulting in its wealth, loves to 
 ponder over its newly-gained possession; and 
 he who from comparative obscurity, finds him- 
 
114 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 self suddenly elevated to the highest earthly 
 honours, could not experience a prouder sensa- 
 tion, than did Blanch when on awakening, she 
 recalled the events of the preceding evening, 
 and dwelt with ecstasy on the thought, that she 
 was loved by him whom she had already chosen 
 from all the world beside. In her own esteem, 
 the humble-minded Blanch rose, as she reflected 
 on the high place, that she enjoyed in that of 
 William ; for her estimate was not formed or 
 biassed by the world^s opinion, and she assigned 
 WiUiam at least his proper grade, in the scale 
 of creation — if she assigned him more, must we 
 marvel ? 
 
 Dazzled by the radiance, which love had shed 
 over the prospect of her future life, it was some 
 time before her mental eye became sufficiently 
 familiar with its brightness, to discover many 
 less pleasing objects, which that prospect also 
 contained. Obstacles there were, high and 
 formidable barriers on the path before her, 
 dark and mysterious tracts in the landscape, 
 whose gloomy colouring baftled penetration, and 
 appeared to forbode both difficulty and danger. 
 Such variety indeed might enhance the charms 
 of a scene in the substantial world, and yet, 
 when the weary pilgrim surveys from some 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 115 
 
 commanding eminence^ the country he purposes 
 to traverse^ and with eyes which anxiety has 
 quickened^ discovers the long wished-for shrine 
 in the distance, oh ! does he not calculate, 
 with painful anxiety, on mountain, rock, or 
 stream, that may still intervene, to obstruct his 
 journey towards that spot where all his hopes 
 are centred ? 
 
 It was in this spirit that Blanch, after a long 
 train of thought, began to consider many per- 
 plexing circumstances, and, amongst others, the 
 mystery which hung round Cliiford, and his 
 family. He had occasionally mentioned his pa- 
 rents as dead, and his uncle as living in Italy ; 
 he had called himself an exile also, without 
 assigning any cause for absenting himself from 
 a country, of which he always spoke in terms, of 
 the highest admiration. 
 
 Blanches affection, would have been indignant 
 at the bare idea of coupling mistrust, with the 
 thought of WiUiam Clifford, yet she regretted 
 that such facts existed, dreading lest any hidden 
 obstacle should exist to prevent their union. 
 She strove to recal the slightest allusion, that 
 had been made in her presence to any circum- 
 stance respecting Clifford, but could only re- 
 member how often he had told her that he knew 
 
116 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 no one, on his arrival at Bordeaux. General de 
 Brissac was the person who had presented the 
 young Enghshman, at the Hotel D^Aubry, as 
 the nephew of an acquaintance, travelling for 
 his amusement; and when WiUiam^s reign of 
 favour first began, the fair Bordelloises, who 
 honoured him with their notice, were pleased 
 to style him, '^'he bel Inconim,^^ which appeared 
 to favour the idea of mystery. 
 
 Yet to Blanch's confiding and enthusiastic 
 nature there was satisfaction in the risk, that 
 proved the implicit trust she placed in him; 
 and with that confidence, which is inseparable 
 from the love of woman, she believed that 
 CUfFord had some excellent reason for secrecy. 
 
 The dread of her aunt's dismay weighed still 
 heavier on her mind, for although she had never 
 participated in Madame D'Aubry's schemes of 
 ambition, the uniform kindness of that lady 
 entitled her to gratitude, and Blanch was sin- 
 cerely grieved at the prospect of giving her 
 pain. She well understood the workings of her 
 aunt's mind, although it were perhaps impos- 
 sible to find one shade of resemblance with her 
 own, and she was fidly aware that Chflford was 
 one of the last people that Madame D'Aubry 
 would have selected as her niece's husband. 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. Il7 
 
 It is true she had often called him the hand- 
 somest and most agreeable of all their guests, 
 and never omitted him in any invitation, how- 
 ever limited as to numbers, while she spoke of 
 him as her favourite and her handsome coun- 
 tryman, and appeared more pleased with his 
 attentions, than those of any other young man 
 in Bordeaux. That Blanch should prefer his 
 society, appeared natural ; that she should marry 
 him, never entered Madame D^Aubry's head. 
 That William should admire Blanch, was, in 
 that worthy lady^s opinion, merely according to 
 the common course of events, and agreeable 
 to the prevailing fashion; but that he should 
 aspire to her hand, perfectly incongruous ; 
 besides which, Madame D'Aubry had so often 
 jested with Blanch, on the obduracy of her 
 heart, and the coldness of her feelings, that this 
 prudent lady, was perfectly at ease upon that 
 score. Blanch knew all this, and foresaw the 
 deep despair, that a communication of their 
 mutual attachment would cause. It was a com- 
 fort, that she might delay the painful explana- 
 tion, and once more turning to the bright side 
 of the picture, she listened with eagerness, to 
 the sweet whispers of hope. 
 
 With William, it was otherwise; the surprise, 
 
118 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 the transport, of being loved by Blanch, and 
 loved too with an ardour that rivalled his own, 
 silenced all those minor trials and vexations, that 
 had previously disturbed his mind. He did not 
 forget that difficulties existed, but he was aware 
 of their extent, and strong in the knowledge of 
 reciprocal aifection, he no longer regarded them 
 as insurmountable. Blanch was his, his by the 
 kiss she had permitted, his by the pressure of 
 that hand, and the vow of those lips, which had 
 never breathed a word of love till then, and he 
 prepared to trample upon circumstances to ob- 
 tain her. 
 
 Remembering Blanches injunctions, he over- 
 came, his impatience to \4sit the Hotel D'Aubry, 
 on the morning after the masquerade, and turned 
 his steps eagerly in the direction of the prison. 
 William was one, who rarely bestowed his con- 
 fidence, but when he did so, it was unhmited ; 
 he had now no secrets from Dumont on any sub- 
 ject ; and that on which his mind was at present 
 set, was one in which he fancied the prisoner him- 
 self must necessarily be interested, after all that 
 had passed between them, relative to Blanch. 
 Moreover, William reflected, that when his heart 
 was laden with doubt and sorrow, he had sought 
 comfort in the sympathy of Dumont, and now 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 119 
 
 that it was overcharged with joy^ he longed to 
 deposit its sweet burden^ in the same friendly 
 resting-place. He also wished to consult with 
 Dumont, on the steps which he should next take, 
 and upon the letter, which he must address to his 
 uncle, the Chevalier Clifford, a composition re- 
 quiring infinite delicacy. But he was destined to 
 disappointment, for on arriving at the gate, the 
 sentinel informed him, that no one was to be 
 admitted that morning. He turned away vexed 
 and mortified, and was at a loss where to bend 
 his steps. Fortunately, the thought suggested 
 itself, that he might walk to the Hotel D^Aubry, 
 and inquire after the health of its inmates with- 
 out entering, and consequently without faihng 
 in his promise to Blanch. He found Madame 
 D^Aubry^s coach, at the door, and hurried for- 
 ward to tender his services, in assisting her 
 to enter the carriage. The good lady smiled 
 sweetly upon him. 
 
 '^ We are going on an early expedition to- 
 morrow, Mr. Cliiford," she said, ^^to see a 
 terre of mine on the hill ; we have a place for 
 you in the coach, and you \Aill find us at break- 
 fast about eight." 
 
 William bowed his grateful assent, endeavour- 
 ing at the same time to look as unconcerned as 
 
120 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 lie possibly could on the occasion, and with a cere- 
 monious inquiry after Blanch, he walked home, 
 thinking how best he might accelerate the move- 
 ments of the next few hours ; while he penned a 
 few hasty lines to the governor, begging him to 
 acquaint Dumont with the cause of his absence. 
 The evening passed, the night came, the morn- 
 ing da^vned at length, and William after having 
 tasted but little sleep, rose nevertheless with feel- 
 ings as fresh, and as bright, as the day, whose 
 dawning rays streamed through his haK closed 
 shutters, and roused him, with a promise of joy. 
 He found the guests already assembled at the 
 Hotel D^Aubry. After saluting the company on 
 his entry, he scanned them anxiously. The 
 eternal Stanley, was destined to make the fourth 
 in Madame D'Aubry's coach ; but La Marquise 
 de Beaulieu who had previously volunteered a 
 carriage full of recruits, was escorted singly by 
 the Prince de C — . She was ^^ desolee,^^ but it 
 could not be helped, there was some fete going 
 on, she had no idea of, and but for the prince's 
 compassion she would have been quite aban- 
 doned. '^ Poor woman,'' whispered Stanley to 
 William, " wliat an uncalled-for aj^ology, what 
 a tedious account of her successful endeavours, 
 at a tete-a-t^te !" 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 121 
 
 Nor had Mr. Stanley's usual insight into the 
 human character failed him on this occasion. 
 The departure of the prince (the reigning Lion 
 in Bordeaux) had been announced for that day, 
 and Madame de Beaulieu had with difficulty 
 induced him to defer his journey — but she had 
 taken pains to spread the report that this illus- 
 trious foreigner had himself solicited a seat in 
 her carriage. 
 
 The marquise^ although many years younger^ 
 was the sworn friend of Madame D^Aubr)\ 
 One of those people who are called pretty^ by 
 courtesy^ she was the great promoter of so- 
 ciety^ the great patroness of milliners in Bor- 
 deaux ; and by dint of dressings talking^ flirting 
 and giving dinners^ Madame de Beauheu, be- 
 came a beauty^ nay — some people went so far as 
 to call her a bel esprit. Her great ambition, 
 however, was the rumour of singularity: she 
 practised none of those languishing airs that 
 were then in fashion; and never boasted of deU- 
 cate health, or shrieked at the sight of an insect. 
 Vivacity and activity were her forte : she loved 
 enterprise, and scorned fatigue, could walk milee 
 without weariness ; and lost her sleep during 
 three whole nights from simple pleasure at 
 
 VOL. I. G 
 
122 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 hearing some one say^ " Cette petite Marquise, 
 comme elle est mignonne, et eveillce ?' 
 
 No sooner were the carriages in motion than 
 Madame D^Aubry began a long account of the 
 object of their expedition, informing her friends 
 — That last year she was looking over some 
 accounts with her steward, and that Blanch, 
 who assisted her therein, was struck with some 
 well-sounding names, and asked one or two 
 questions about the estates, which Madame 
 D^Aubry found it difficult to answer. The 
 steward was, however, better informed on these 
 points, and he had given Blanch so wonderful 
 a description of a terre, belonging to the 
 D^Aubry property, containing an old castle, a 
 holy well, and many other remarkable things, 
 that the said Blanch had earnestly entreated 
 her aunt to visit the spot. 
 
 ^' And when we did so,^^ continued Madame 
 D'Aubry, ^^ no sooner had we toiled up to the 
 top, for it is at the summit of a high hill, than 
 my madcap niece almost bound me down to 
 promise, I would build up a half crazy tower, 
 and make a few rooms habitable, as a retreat 
 in the summer months. We have neither of 
 us thought much about it since, I believe, till 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 123 
 
 yesterday, when she insisted on going there 
 again, and I thought it best to comply before 
 the hot weather sets in, very sure I should 
 yield sooner or later. But this time I have 
 taken upon myself to guard against hunger and 
 weariness, and also to provide myself with a 
 few sage counsellors, to preserve me from fall- 
 ing blindly into any of Blanches ^mad schemes.^ ^^ 
 The good lady smiled as she concluded this 
 long speech, and pressed her niece^s hand. 
 
 After proceeding along the road for some 
 miles, the carriages stopped, and the party 
 ahghting, found several mules in readiness at 
 the foot of the hill. The marquise declared 
 that she was not alarmed, but still her inexpe- 
 rience rendered the princess vigilance necessary, 
 and he rode accordingly by her side. Stanley 
 discreetly walked by the bridle rein of Madame 
 D^Aubry ; and as Blanch declared she preferred 
 walking, Chfford consigned their two mules to 
 the care of a Uttle guide, and followed the riders 
 at some distance ; but ere long the pedestrians 
 verged off into a smaller path, whicli seemed to 
 lead more directly up the side of the hill. 
 
 It was a glorious morning, ushering in the 
 month of April ; that sweet, though wayward 
 g2 
 
124 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 child of Spring, who, Hke some youthful and 
 capricious beauty, loves to display by turns the 
 varying mood of infancy, and the more settled 
 aspect of maturer years. On this day, how- 
 ever, there was nothing changeable or vacilla- 
 ting in her humour, when, assuming the air of 
 her more favoured sister. May, she bade fair to 
 rival her in all bright gifts. It was, in fact, 
 one of those foretastes of the "sweete sea- 
 sonne '^ which occasionally dawn upon the 
 early part of the year, springing up suddenly 
 like some vision of beauty that crosses the tra- 
 veller's path when least he looks for such, and 
 fading as rapidly from the view. It was one of 
 those prophecies of summer, which stimulate 
 our eagerness for that happy time, till we almost 
 fancy it within our grasp, but like that antici- 
 pation whereof such days are emblems, too often 
 far loveUer, far more genial than the reality — 
 one felt that it might be a messenger whose 
 promises exceeded their authority, and who be- 
 stowed a pledge that might never be redeemed. 
 It was indeed a lovely morning, the sun covet- 
 ing the power that would shortly be his, 
 infused a warmth and vigour into his rays 
 that drew a balmy exhalation from the sweet 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 125 
 
 nosegay of plants and flowers which the earth 
 carried concealed in her bosom. 
 
 The birds sang — sang as if the rush of har- 
 mony would burst the little tube through which 
 it passed ; and as they plumed themselves on 
 the still leafless branches, the vegetable world 
 alone seemed to linger behind the hasty march 
 of spring. Yet here and there a single bud pro- 
 truded from the hedges, as if anxious to prove 
 its indi\ddual zeal, while the soft fresh breeze of 
 morning was laden at intervals with the fra- 
 grance of the hidden violet, which (like true be- 
 nevolence) exercises in secret, its sweet and 
 grateful influence. How lovely was that poetry 
 which first assigned the same emblematic hue 
 to Spring and Hope ; that could read of eter- 
 nal promise in the opening page of nature, and 
 blend in sweet confusion varied, the joys of 
 anticipation ! 
 
 Blanch walked by the side of William, 
 while exercise, and the tenour of her thoughts, 
 brought a fresh glow to her cheek, and a 
 brighter sparkle to her eye. At first, when 
 leaning on her lover's arm to recover her 
 breath, she would direct his attention to some 
 striking point of view, in order to divert his 
 
126 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 mind from that exciting theme which gave an 
 ardour to his looks and language, that alarmed 
 while it pleased her. By degrees, however, this 
 slisjht aojitation subsided beneath the charm of 
 his society, while ChfFord felt happier than he 
 had hitherto believed within the grasp of 
 humanity. With such a being at his side, 
 with such a scene before him, could it be con- 
 ceived that any gloomy forebodings would 
 make their way into his mind ? Oh, no ! all 
 was spring for them ; the spring of nature, 
 of love, and life ; and as William stooped to 
 gather the snowdrop, or twine the crocus and 
 violet for Blanch's flowing hair, it seemed as if 
 the flowers sprang to life for them. The happy 
 disposition of Blanch, which had lately been 
 obscured by doubt and sorrow, once more im- 
 parted its bright colouring to her manner and 
 conversation ; and the buoyant elasticity of her 
 spirits gave her more than ordinary strength 
 and courage. She trod the most rugged paths 
 over the uneven ground, making her way with a 
 fearlessness that excited more admiration in their 
 little guide in the distance, than in William, who, 
 as he followed with a swift, though firm step, 
 dreaded everv moment lest she should miss lier 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 127 
 
 footing. She smiled at his fears, and assured 
 him she was as expert a mountaineer as himself, 
 although she had not the same experience. 
 
 ^^ We must arrive before them at the fount of 
 St.EsteUe, dear William/^ she said, ^^ and breathe 
 for a few moments, lest they should suppose I 
 am fatigued. I know the way weU, for I have 
 been here before; and I remember envying my 
 guide for finding so short a road as this. But 
 here we are ; is it not a lovely resting-place ? " 
 
 As she spoke, they came suddenly upon 
 a small plain, backed by a steep bank, and 
 skirted, on one side, by a clump of trees (which 
 ascending the hill, terminated in a wood), 
 and, on the other, by the bridle-road that 
 led to the castle. In the centre stood a small 
 Gothic screen of stonework, round which na- 
 ture had twined many a fantastic garland of ivy, 
 while the sunbeams danced and sparkled on a 
 little spring, that gushed from the rock, and 
 bounding over its stony basin, wandered 
 through the grass, or forming itself into a thou- 
 sand tiny rills, meandered down the shelving 
 sward. The water, exquisitely transparent, ren- 
 dered its immediate neighbourhood peculiarly 
 verdant, while flowers that could not be found 
 elsewhere, grew luxuriantly beneath its fertiliz- 
 
128 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 ing influence. There was a wild solemn music 
 too in the welling of that sacred fountain ; for 
 such we may call it^ as the spot was hallowed, 
 and the rude, half effaced inscription still bade 
 the passing traveller pray for the soul of 
 " Saincte Estoile.^^ 
 
 " Here let us rest, dear WiUiam 1 ^^ exclaimed 
 Blanch ; " for we can watch the riders, and join 
 them before they reach the castle. The last 
 time we were here, I was quite enchanted with 
 this fountain, and my enthusiasm so much 
 delighted the guide, that he immediately poured 
 forth upon me the legend of the holy martyr 
 from whom it takes its name.^^ 
 
 '^Will you not let me share it too, dear 
 Blanch,^' said her companion ; " the riders will 
 not be here for some time, and I who love old 
 legends would fain hear it ; but above all from 
 your lips.^' 
 
 She smiled. " I question," she replied, " if 
 I can do justice to the subject, for the man had 
 a flow of natural eloquence which I do not pos- 
 sess ; but you will be an indulgent critic, and I 
 will do my best." 
 
 She began timidly, but gained courage as she 
 proceeded, to relate 
 
THE STATE PRISONER, 129 
 
 THE LEGEND OF SAINTE ESTELLE. 
 
 '^ ^ We are told that in the olden time, when 
 the blessed truths of Christianity were still re- 
 garded with horror, in these parts of the world, 
 the governor of the city, had an only daughter, 
 whose beauty and excellence were the general 
 theme of admiration and praise. Her name 
 was Estelle, or Estoile, and the poetic appella- 
 tions of the Star of the Province, the Light of 
 the City, wdll but convey a feeble idea of the 
 fame which her charms had already gained. But 
 suddenly a change came over the. beautiful girl: 
 her voice no longer cheered the banquet ; her 
 form no longer glided in the dance: she 
 shunned the society of man ; she avoided even 
 the presence of her father, and spent whole days 
 in solitude. The governor questioned, en- 
 treated, menaced ; but all in vain : the only re- 
 ply—the only explanation he could gain, was, 
 that her tastes and opinions were altered. Un- 
 accustomed to be thus thwarted, the angry pa- 
 rent sent for the Lady Estelle's confidential 
 attendant, and heard from the lips of the 
 trembling servant, that her young mistress 
 walked forth daily alone, and returned at the 
 g3 
 
130 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 expiration of several hourS;, weary and foot-sore. 
 Strengthened in Ins preconceived suspicions, 
 the governor's first impulse was to seek his 
 child, and accuse her at once of guilt and 
 shame. But his fury suggested a surer path ; he 
 hovered round that wing of the palace, in which 
 Estelle's private apartments lay, and saw her 
 issue forth alone towards the dusk of evening. 
 He followed her with feelings that could not be 
 described, as threading the mazes of the city 
 she passed the gates, and walked many miles 
 in this direction without slackening her pace. 
 The warrior hastened after her in astonish- 
 ment, as she ascended the steepest paths -snth 
 almost supernatural speed, and at length arrived 
 before a fountain, where, seeing that she paused, 
 he concealed himself in such a manner, that he 
 might observe and hear aU that passed. The 
 moon was nearly full, but there Were flitting 
 clouds in the sky, that occasionally obscured her 
 light. At this moment she shone brightly upon 
 Estelle, who, casting off her loose dark mantle, 
 appeared in a flowing robe of dazzling white- 
 ness, crowned with a garland of flowers, and 
 wearing a massive cross of gold upon her beau- 
 tiful bosom. The father thoudit his Estelle had 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 131 
 
 never looked so fair, as when kneeling by the 
 spring, she tasted one draught of its refreshing 
 waters, and then folding her arms across her 
 breast, began a low chant ; pausing at intervals 
 to gaze anxiously around, as if awaiting the arri- 
 val of some one. AVhen the governor heard 
 once more, the voice he so dearly loved, that had 
 so often enlivened his banquet, and cheered his 
 gloomy moments, the stern heart within him 
 melted. But that voice had a chastened tone, 
 a more subdued character than he had ever 
 heard before ; and hark ! a rustling among the 
 leaves — the steps of a man descend the rock — - 
 and Estelle rises eagerly and walks forward. 
 Her father grasped his dagger, and looked 
 forth from his hiding-place ! But the moon 
 was hid, and he could discern nothing, but a 
 tall dark outhne amid the trees. 
 
 " ^ Art thou come at last?' exclaimed the sweet 
 voice of Estelle. ' I have tarried long for thee; 
 but lo, I am here to sacrifice all — my home, my 
 kindred, and my faith, for the sake of one — ! ' 
 
 '^ ^ Die then ! ' cried the infuriated father, as he 
 sprang forward, and buried his dagger deep in 
 her bosom. ^ Die ! ere thou glory in thy infamy, 
 or bring dishonour on thy father's name ! ' 
 
132 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 " Estelle's dying glance recognised her mur- 
 derer ! she waved her hand, and the stranger 
 to whom she had spoken stood beside her in the 
 open moonlight. 
 
 " The governor raised his eyes from the ex- 
 piring form of his daughter, to him, whom he 
 believed her guilty paramour. It was an aged 
 man, whose garb bespoke him a votary to the 
 faith of Christ, and whose silvery locks, and 
 wrinkled brow told more of sorrow, and per- 
 secution, of fortitude, and benevolence, than 
 any earthly passion. He bent tenderly, over the 
 dying Estelle. 
 
 " ^ There is yet time,^ she said eagerly; ^draw 
 me nearer to the fountain, for the stream of life 
 is ebbing faster than the spring before us, and 
 will never burst forth again but in eternity ; 
 and thou, my father, assist this holy man — it is 
 the last service thy Estelle will require.^ 
 
 " In speechless agony did the governor bear 
 his precious burden to the fountain ; and there, 
 with her head resting on his shoulder, did the 
 beautiful Estelle receive the rites of baptism, and 
 devote herself to the service of that Master, 
 into whose presence she was prematurely sum- 
 moned. 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 133 
 
 " ^ Speak^ Estelle ! speak !^ cried the agonized 
 parent. ^ Look up once more^ my injured 
 spotless child. Couldst thou but read the tor- 
 ture I endure, thou wert too well avenged.' 
 
 " ^ Say not so, my father V she exclaimed, 
 while her faltering voice bespoke how Hfe, and 
 death, were struggling for the possession, of that 
 fair form. ' But, oh ! if you ever loved your 
 Estelle; if she were indeed the star of your 
 home, Usten, I beseech you, to this holy man, 
 whose precepts can disarm the grave of every 
 horror, and teach a timid heart like mine to 
 exult in such a death as this.' And, ere her 
 eyes were closed, and ere the light of reason 
 was quenched, she beheld the stern warrior 
 kneeling meekly at the hermit's feet, sprinkled 
 with the water that he had, alas ! dyed, with his 
 daughter's blood.' 
 
 " ^ Grieve not,' she said, while her half 
 glazed eye beamed with a transient, and almost 
 celestial Hght. *^ Grieve not, my father, that 
 the crown of early martyrdom be conferred by 
 hands I love so well.' " 
 
 Blanch concluded her legend, and there was 
 silence for a few moments ; for it needed not 
 that William's thanks should be expressed by 
 
134 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 words. The tale^ however, and the ideas it 
 brought with it, had given another turn to their 
 thoughts, and tempered the gaiety in which 
 they had before indulged. The conversation 
 assumed a more serious character, and Blanches 
 heart expanded with thankfulness, when she 
 found that on the all important subject of re- 
 ligion, her lover's opinions were founded on 
 the same basis, and directed towards the same 
 end as her own. William, was one for whom 
 the specious sophistry of ^'the philosopher" 
 had no charms, and whose earnest admiration, 
 of all that was beautiful and fascinating in na- 
 ture, only served to augment his veneration, 
 for the source, from whence such blessings 
 were derived. 
 
 It was a sweet calm pleasure which the lovers 
 tasted then, sitting side by side in that lovely 
 spot, and mingling the purest thoughts of their 
 young and untainted hearts; but of course it 
 could not last long, and WiUiam soon started 
 up, as he caught the sound of voices. The 
 next moment the riders ascended the hill; 
 the marquise came first, looking somewhat 
 dejected ; while behind her, at some distance, 
 lagged the prince. But Roland Stanley had 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 135 
 
 been more faithful, and he now appeared in 
 earnest conversation with Madame D^Aubry at 
 her ])ridle rein. Blanch advanced to greet them ; 
 but Madame de Beaulieu's salutation savoured 
 of ill-humour, which was not a little increased 
 by seeing the prince dismount, and offer his 
 arm to the young Englishwoman. The poor 
 marquise had indeed been severely mortified; 
 for his highness had shown himself absent and 
 uncommunicative, notwithstanding the assi- 
 duous court she paid him. The courage she 
 displayed, had been entirely thrown away ; and 
 even when she adopted another style, and 
 yielded suddenly to the natural timidity of her 
 sex, the tone in which the prince offered con- 
 solation, was one of frigid ceremony. Dispirited 
 by repeated failures, the marquise at length 
 assumed ^^ un petit air boudeur,^^ that at least 
 gave her ingenuity breathing-time, if it had 
 no better effect. 
 
 The prince, in the mean while, was perplexed 
 at the utter indifference with which Madame 
 D'Aubry's beautifid niece seemed to regard 
 him; not that she had made any deep impres- 
 sion upon his heart, but as his eye followed her 
 graceful form, he could ill account for the ne- 
 
136 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 gleet, (it might almost be called) with which she 
 
 treated him — the Prince de C , the darling 
 
 of the sex. He was too well acquainted with 
 all the little airs of coquetry, to suspect for a 
 moment that Blanch's indifference was assumed. 
 The vanity of his highness was piqued, and his 
 curiosity excited. He knew much of Blanch 
 from report, and that she had refused the hands 
 of several noble Bordelois ; and as he called to 
 mind her demeanour at the ball, and many 
 little incidents connected with that evening, 
 which had not then appeared remarkable, he 
 collected the scattered facts in his mind, and 
 before he again met the unconscious object of 
 so much meditation, had dived deep into her 
 secret, and was firmly resolved to sift the 
 matter thoroughly. 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 13? 
 
 CHAPTER VIIL 
 
 It was the situation, rather than the ruin 
 itself, that made the Chateau de Nerly an object 
 of interest. Perched on an eminence, and 
 standing several miles from any other building, 
 unless we except the humble chapel of St. 
 Estelle, it commanded an extensive view of the 
 surrounding country, including the city of Bor- 
 deaux, whose handsome edifices, numerous 
 spires, and fine line of bank, with the high 
 ground on the opposite side of the river towards 
 Carbon Blanc, formed a beautiful boundary to 
 the prospect on that side. As the eye ran to 
 the west again, the sun sparkled upon tlie 
 Gironde, which appeared like a large golden 
 serpent wandering through richly -cultivated 
 lands towards the Bay of Biscay. The castle 
 had at one time enjoyed the proud reputation 
 
138 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 of being impregnable ; but time, that most pow- 
 erful of engineers (whose sapping is more cer- 
 tain than that of man, though not so speedy), 
 had, after a slow and protracted siege, obhged 
 the venerable fortress, to surrender at discretion. 
 
 The victor's ravages had indeed been terrible, 
 for the greater part of the building was utterly 
 destroyed, and of the stones that had once com- 
 posed it, some had long taken their way down 
 the hill, and chosen another and an humbler 
 resting-place, while those that lay scattered 
 around, were covered with moss and lichen. 
 The long rank grass sprang up on the cause- 
 way, which the mailed foot of the brave had 
 once trod so proudly; and, instead of the 
 banner that spread its ample folds, emblazoned 
 with the bearing of some potent noble, the 
 wild ivy, and the tangled brier, thrown over the 
 sides of the keep, waved backwards and for- 
 wards, as if asserting the conquest of Time. 
 A bastion of considerable height formerly en- 
 circled the building, and even now formed an 
 agreeable promenade, excepting where one part 
 was separated from the other by a wide and 
 deep breach, in the ramparts. 
 
 Madame D'Aubry's party entered the ruin 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 139 
 
 and proceeded straightforward^ with the excep- 
 tion of William, whom the mistress of the 
 place herself despatched on the opposite side, 
 for the purpose of reconnoitring the ground, 
 while she also walked a little in advance of the 
 others, to make her own observations. Having 
 selected a spot, which she thought would answer 
 every purpose for their ^^ petit dejeuner,^^ she 
 sat down to await Williams^s arrival. 
 
 The four others loitered behind, to admire 
 the beauty of the prospect from the entrance ; 
 at least, so it appeared, for every eye was 
 turned in that direction, and every mind in 
 another. 
 
 Tlie prince was still wondering about Blanch ; 
 his admiration increasing with his suspicions. 
 The marquise was bitterly repenting her cruelty 
 
 to the poor Comte de , who had solicited 
 
 a seat in her carriage and had been refused; 
 while Roland Stanley, who stood by her side, 
 occasionally adapted a remark to a capacity, 
 which he estimated rather meanly. But Blanch 
 was the most impatient of the party ; and feel- 
 ing that every moment was precious to love, 
 and consequently lost, if not given to William, 
 she planned her escape for some time, and at 
 last effected it. 
 
140 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 " The view must be infinitely more striking 
 from that httle tower/^ she exclaimed, as, quit- 
 ting the princess arm hastily, she ascended the 
 broken staircase, without observing its tottering 
 condition, and without heeding Mr. Stanley, 
 who called loudly to her to desist. 
 
 By this time William, who had gone round, 
 would have been by Madame D'Aubry^s side, 
 but a wide and yawning chasm, which had till 
 then escaped his notice, put an eiFectual stop to 
 his progress. He stood gazing at it for a moment 
 before he retraced his steps, to return by the 
 circuit of the walls, when he was attracted by 
 the earnest tone of Stanley^s voice. It was with 
 no pleasurable feelings that he then beheld 
 Blanch, in what he believed with reason, a most 
 precarious situation ; but his eye was attracted 
 at the same instant by the danger of another of 
 the party. Blanch's step, light as it was, 
 had loosened some rubbish, in which several 
 large masses of granite were embedded, and 
 one of these was now rolling for\\^ard with 
 frightful speed, exactly in the direction of 
 Madame D'Aubry. There was no time for 
 thought or calculation. At one bound William 
 cleared the beach, and stood by Madame 
 D'Aubry, while, pushing her aside with but 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 141 
 
 little ceremony, he encountered the stone with 
 his foot, and forced it to take another direction. 
 It fell over the ramparts, and was heard for a 
 long time bounding, and dashing from side to 
 side, till it reached the deep dell below. Several 
 minutes elapsed before Madame D^Aubry be- 
 came fully conscious of the risk she had run, 
 or the obligation she was under to William, but 
 then her agitation and her gratitude rendered 
 her almost speechless. Nor was the sight of her 
 niece at that moment, calculated to tranquillize 
 her emotion, mounted on the summit of a crazy 
 tower, whose stairs, once put in motion, were 
 now likely to take revenge for the accommo- 
 dation they had so often unwillingly afforded 
 to others, and to walk down themselves, leaving 
 Blanch to do so as best she might. William 
 called to her to wait, until he could come to her 
 assistance ; but in attempting to advance, he 
 found that his leg had been hurt in the effort to 
 turn the stone, and the acute pain arising from 
 this accident, prevented him from walking a step. 
 Poor Blanch, half bewildered by all that had 
 passed, and all the disasters she had caused, 
 now begged Mr. Stanley in a meek tone to tell 
 her how she should descend. That gentleman 
 
142 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 walked carefully towards the tower, feeling his 
 way (as he was wont to do on all occasions) 
 with a large stick he held in his hand; and 
 having directed Blanch in every step she took, 
 shook hands warmly with her, and congratulated 
 her on her own, and Madame D'Aubry's safet}^ 
 She thanked him hastily, and ran towards her 
 aunt, who was now seated on the parapet by 
 the side of William, and expressed her regret 
 in heartfelt terms. 
 
 ^^ You were very silly, Blanch,^^ replied that 
 lady, in a t6ne more nearly resembling reproof, 
 than was usual to her ; ^^ there could be no use 
 nor pleasure, in exposing your life, even if it had 
 had no other bad effects. See where the stone 
 came, it has left a visible track ; but, above all, 
 look at that dreadful place across which Mr. 
 Clifford ventured his life. Good heavens ! I 
 shudder to think how easily he might have 
 fallen.^^ 
 
 And Blanch shuddered too, and checked 
 her breath, as she looked down into the deep 
 pit, the bottom of which was not perceptible, 
 amidst the weeds and briers that filled it. 
 She did shudder, and the blood forsook 
 her cheek, and the tears stood in her eyes, 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 143 
 
 as she turned and saw William vainly endea- 
 vouring to conceal the pain under which he was 
 at that moment labouring. For pain is despotic, 
 and the victim who refuses to acknowledge its 
 empire by word, is sure to bear the confession 
 on his countenance. Had she never known it 
 before, Blanch would at that moment have dis- 
 covered how deep, how fervent, how tender^ 
 was her affection for William Clifford, when she 
 beheld him suffering, when the danger which 
 had threatened his life still stared her in 
 the face. She forgot her prudent resolutions ; 
 she forgot Madame D'Aubry^s presence, and 
 gave way to every feeling of agitation, in a way 
 too likely to excite remark. 
 
 '^ God be praised ! ^' she exclaimed, ^^ that you 
 are safe — both of you,^^ she added hastily, recalled 
 by the surprise which Madame D^Aubry evinced 
 at the unusual warmth of her manner; ^^for 
 oh ! what would have become of me, if — '^ 
 
 The poor girl was greatly distressed, and 
 turning to Madame D^Aubry, with the tears 
 trembling on her long dark lashes, she ex- 
 claimed, 
 
 ^^ My dear aunt, how I have alarmed you; 
 and what pain Mr. CHfford is in V^ 
 
144 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 The kind-hearted woman, although not yet 
 recovered either from her fright, or her astonish- 
 ment, kissed Blanches cheek, while William, 
 holding out his hand, inquired if she believed 
 him ungrateful, for such an opportunity of mani- 
 festing his devotion to Madame D^Aubry. The 
 reply was most fortunate, leading the good lady's 
 thoughts from Blanch's unguarded expression of 
 feeling, to her obligation to Clifford, and to the 
 necessity of taking some steps about the accident 
 that had befallen him. The rest of the party 
 coming up, congratulations and comphments 
 were offered and accepted; but Madame D'Aubr}^ 
 called for Stanley's aid, in persuading William 
 to allow of their immediate return to Bordeaux. 
 
 " No, no ! " exclaimed Clifford gaily, endea- 
 vouring to conceal the severe pain which was 
 however sensibly increasing; ^^that would be 
 negative kindness, indeed, to pen me up in a 
 sick room, where I should fancy myself in pain 
 for want of better amusement, and become a prey 
 to remorse, for having brought our agreeable 
 party to an untimely end, and carried my 
 good friends here back to Bordeaux before they 
 intended. Besides," he continued, laughing, 
 '^ I can see by Madame D'Aubry's countenance 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 145 
 
 that she considers immediate amputation as the 
 shghtest remedy which the surgeon will pro- 
 pose ; and as I have a friendly feeling towards 
 a limb that has done me good service^ T humbly 
 entreat that the evil hour of separation may be 
 postponed for a few hours/^ 
 
 " It is very well for you to jest upon 
 the subject, my dear Mr. Cliiford/^ rejoined 
 Madame D^Aubry, "but, at least, for my 
 sake '^ — 
 
 '^ Well, then, at least for your sake, and that 
 of Madame la Marquise, and Miss Courtenay, 
 not to mention monseigneur, or your two 
 starving countrymen, do allow those attendant 
 satellites of yours to spread the cloth upon this 
 propitious fragment of firmly-rooted granite, 
 which fortune has evidently designed for our 
 table; and let those promising paniers display 
 their contents. Nay, Madame D'Aubry, a mo- 
 ment ago you spoke of gratitude, and had well- 
 nigh persuaded me I had done something ex- 
 traordinarily praiseworthy ; and now you refuse 
 me a bit of bread.^^ 
 
 ^^ I know one thing,^^ she replied, in high 
 goodhumour, "and so do you, — that I am a 
 silly old woman, who can be talked into any 
 
 VOL. I. H 
 
146 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 tiling;'^ and she made a sign to the servants^ who 
 quickly spread their little repast. By degrees, 
 the accident gave way before other topics, 
 and Madame D^Aubry laid before the company 
 her plans for the reconstruction of one or two 
 of the principal towers of the chateau, the repairs 
 of the large hall, with many other schemes, 
 which appeared more interesting then, than 
 they would now, were we to detail them. 
 
 " Only conceive, my dear marquise,^^ she 
 said, anxious to dispel the cloud on her friend^s 
 brow ; " only conceive what a beautiful fete we 
 might have here on a summer^s evening ! '' 
 
 " I don^t see how that is possible,^^ replied 
 the elegante drily. '' No carriages could drag 
 up here, and I don^t suppose people would find 
 any pleasure in riding a horrid mule eii grande 
 toilette^ or in spoiling their chaussure by scram- 
 bling up on foot.^' 
 
 ^^ Stiiy^ said Blanch, who did not approve of 
 the way in which her aunt^s proposition had 
 been treated ; ^^ still we might have a sufficient 
 number of apartments for the ladies ; and as for 
 those craven knights,^' she added, laughing, ^^ who 
 considered the ascent too rugged, or the fatigue 
 too great, we were well rid of their presence.'^ 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 147 
 
 William had not spoken for some time, the 
 pain having become almost insupportable ; but 
 he now exclaimed, forcing the gaiety he did not 
 feel, " Most true, lovely Chatelaine, but I would 
 improve upon your plan, and have the castle 
 garrisoned by its fair inmates, and besieged by 
 the brave knights of Bordeaux. Be it under- 
 stood, however, that the garrison need not hold 
 out too long, and that the victors and the van- 
 quished should dance together in the great hall/^ 
 
 Delightful ! " cried Blanch, ^^ and the ram- 
 parts should be illuminated, and the reconciled 
 foes should walk here together, to recount their 
 mutual achievements/^ 
 
 ^' With a handsome young troubadour to play 
 his cithern beneath that wall, and shape his 
 song so as to be heard by aU, and understood 
 by one,^^ whispered the prince, who sat by 
 Blanches side. 
 
 She did not answer him, but continued to 
 look around, as if she already beheld the scene 
 in idea. The prince, however, was not to be 
 discouraged, and observing that Stanley was 
 endeavouring to engage William in a scientific 
 controversy on fortification, while the two elder 
 ladies were occupied with something quite as 
 H 2 
 
148 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 interesting, in their way, he again addressed his 
 fair neighbour : 
 
 ^^ If that little wood on the eastern side were 
 illuminated, it would rival the Bosquet de 
 Diane, and would at least be as well adapted 
 for a tete a tete. 
 
 Blanch's fine eye flashed as his highness con- 
 cluded, and turning towards him with a smile 
 that had more of scorn than sweetness, she re- 
 plied aloud, though not sufficiently high to at- 
 tract the notice of their companions, ^'When 
 we commence our preparations, monseigneur, I 
 shall do my best to enlist you in our cause ; 
 you wiU gain intelligence of every one's pro- 
 ceedings, and report them accordingly. There 
 are few who would accept, or rather, I should 
 say, there are few quahfied for the office of — " 
 
 " Finish the sentence, noble Chatelaine," re- 
 joined her antagonist ; " or rather, let me do so 
 for you, lest the word ^ Spy ' should sound too 
 harsh from those beautiful lips : but I perceive 
 that the prospect of warfare has kindled a mar- 
 tial ardour in your breast; — beware, however, 
 lest you slay your best friend by the point of 
 your lance, or the edge of your ^^'it." 
 
 " What would your definition of a best friend 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 149 
 
 be ? '^ said Blanch^ turning to William with a 
 smile of playful meaning. 
 
 '^ I wiU tell you his answer/^ insisted the 
 prince, in a still lower tone than before ; " it 
 will be — ^ Blanch Courtenay ! ^ ^^ 
 
 She turned from him offended, and inquired 
 with undisguised interest, if William were still 
 suffering. When the little banquet was com- 
 pleted and cleared away, and the others, under 
 Madame D^Aubry's guidance, proceeded to in- 
 spect the haU, Blanch boldly solicited her aunt^s 
 permission to remain with Clifford until their 
 return. The princess laudable intention of con- 
 fusing her, had had, in fact, a diametrically 
 opposite effect. The fact of the secret being 
 discovered appeared to bind her still closer to 
 Wilham, and at the same time to smooth the way 
 towards an explanation with Madame D^Aubry. 
 Neither could Blanch's pride brook the in- 
 trusive raillery of a stranger on the subject 
 nearest her heart ; and contrasting the conduct 
 of Stanley with that of the prince, in her own 
 mind, she drew a most decided conclusion in 
 favour of the former, whose merits she began to 
 perceive for the first time. The prince gazed 
 on her fixedly twice, as she took her place by 
 
150 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 the side of William^ on the rampart-wall ; hut 
 Blanches fine dark eye was not to he quelled hy 
 that of so inferior an adversary. 
 
 When they were gone^ Wilham^ who^ to deci- 
 sion of purpose and character^ joined a tender- 
 ness of manner that finds its way too easily to a 
 woman^s hearty now strove to sooth Blanch, 
 as she again and again mourned over the acci- 
 dent, of which she had been the involuntary 
 cause. He could have told her — ay, and he 
 did tell her — that in a moment of such happi- 
 ness, there was something grateful in the pain 
 he endured. 
 
 ^^I have gained your aunt^s heart, dearest 
 Blanch,^^ he said, " by the trifling service I ren- 
 dered her, and perhaps she wiU be more in- 
 clined to listen to our confession with cle- 
 mency. And if it were a deadly wound,^^ he 
 added, smiling, "that sweet voice, and that 
 beseeching glance, were surer remedies than 
 the kindness of woman ever yet appUed to the 
 hurts of knight or Paladin. But see, they are 
 returning; and now I think of it, tell me, 
 dear Blanch, what did the prince say, to call 
 forth such a reproof from lip and eye ? " — 
 
 " Nay,^^ interrupted his companion playfully. 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 151 
 
 '^ would you play the tyrant so soon, William, 
 and inquire into the meaning of every word 
 and look ? or would you judge so meanly of my 
 prowess as to think I required a champion in so 
 sUght a skirmish ? '' 
 
 In the mean while the person in question, not 
 a little mortified by an engagement, in which 
 he felt himself worsted, had taken advantage of 
 the lovers^ absence to throw in a few oppor- 
 tune hints to Madame D^Aubry, which, together 
 with the observations she had made herself, 
 startled her not a little. She jokingly mentioned 
 the prince's insinuations to Mr. Stanley, but he 
 was far too wary to commit himself. He had a 
 part to play on this occasion, and he ridiculed 
 the idea in such a manner, that the good lady 
 felt ashamed of having even given way to sus- 
 picion — and then her heart was so full of grati- 
 tude to William, that she would not allow her- 
 self to believe any thing which, according to 
 rule, ought to entail her displeasure. 
 
 They mounted their mules, for the evening 
 was advancing, and William and Blanch were 
 once more thrown together. They could not 
 walk, as they had intended, on account of his 
 lameness, but they rode side by side, and would 
 
152 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 have quarrelled with the moments for flying so 
 fast^ if their happiness had left them in a frame 
 of mind to quarrel with any thing. 
 
 The day had been splendid in its whole 
 course, and was now drawing oiF its forces hke 
 a skilful general, before the rapid strides of 
 night, while the w^ell ordered retreat was closed 
 by a glorious evening. Indeed, that vanquished 
 power receded slowly, and lingered fondly in 
 the west, as if regretting to lose the dominion 
 of so fair a world. But Night was at length tri- 
 umphant, and her standard of deep blue, star- 
 red with gold, was now displayed above the 
 conquered earth, while she exercised her sway 
 so mildly that no one could rebel, or even mur- 
 mur beneath an influence so genial. 
 
 Those who have never met, except in the 
 stifling atmosphere of the world ; those whose 
 vows have been pHghted and rephghted by the 
 glare of torchlight alone, and whose every look 
 and word has been subjected to the ordeal of that 
 world^s scrutiny, could hardly conceive the rap- 
 ture of such an hour as this. There is surely a 
 power in nature to cement our fondest ties, to 
 strengthen the bond of union between two kin- 
 dred spirits, and give a pure but keen zest, to the 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 153 
 
 sweet intercourse of the heart. Far, far more 
 lovely becomes every memory that can be 
 coupled with some fair page in nature^s varied 
 volume ; far dearer to the well-constructed mind 
 each remembrance that is bound up with the 
 inestimable gifts of the Creator. Such associa- 
 tions render transitory moments permanent — 
 immortal. While by the side of one we love, 
 to let the eye wander over the green bosom of 
 the earth, or the wide expanse of heaven; to 
 mark together the exquisite colouring of the 
 flowers, or the majestic proportions of the 
 forest trees, has in it a spell to bind for ever 
 recollection. 
 
 If such happiness could continue our lot 
 through life ; if man were ever to remain the 
 noble and sincere, and woman the devoted and 
 single-minded being, who often tread together 
 the early path of a young and pure affection, 
 before the one be turned aside, and taught to 
 beUeve his sincerity contemptible, and the other 
 tutored by the world, until her ill-repaid devo- 
 tion be divided into a thousand parts, or 
 lavished on some unworthy object; oh, if 
 they could ever be, as William and Blanch now 
 were, then would this world be the Paradise 
 H 3 
 
154 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 that was forfeited^ and man would forget to 
 soar above the joys of earth ! 
 
 He who in his weary walk of life arrives un- 
 expectedly at some fair and secluded spot^ 
 would fain linger there awhile^ to taste a repose 
 whose pleasures must be enhanced by the scene 
 before him ; and thus would we wilhngly pause 
 and dwell upon this period in our narrative, 
 before we rise to encounter all the difficulties and 
 danger that may await our progress ; before we 
 speak of separation, of doubt, and sorrow. Ah, 
 well was it for those two young hearts, that this 
 one day at least should be unclouded by the 
 knowledge of what a few more would bring 
 forth : happy and grateful were they, for that 
 one whole day of perfect enjoyment ; and oh 
 how often, in after times and distant scenes, did 
 their truant fancy steal back to the Chateau de 
 Nerly, and the little chapel of St. Es telle ! 
 
 The sight of the buildings offended their eyes, 
 and the busy, vulgar tones of the human voice 
 jarred in their ears on entering Bordeaux. 
 
 Madame D^Aubry, who was much fatigued, 
 drove home immediately, and alighted witli her 
 niece, but not until she had overpowered Wil- 
 liam with thanks and praises, and issued lier 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 155 
 
 strictest injunctions to Stanley to escort her 
 '' preserver " home, and assist him in mounting 
 the stairs. Wilham smiled at her anxiety, and 
 expressed a hope that no visions of falling 
 stones or broken limbs would disturb Madame 
 D^Aubry^s repose. To Blanch he said nothing, 
 but ere she left her lover's side, her hand was 
 detained for one moment, and pressed ardently 
 to his lips. 
 
156 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 CHAPTER IX, 
 
 Willi AM^s dwelling was at some distance 
 from the Hotel D'Aubry^ and during the drive 
 thither, Stanley did not lose a moment of the 
 time, which he considered precious. He per- 
 ceived plainly that his forbearing and unobtru- 
 sive conduct had not been lost upon his compa- 
 nion, and he now determined to follow up the 
 favourable impression he had made. From the 
 moment Stanley became acquainted with Wil- 
 liam Clifford, he had resolved on straining every 
 point to draw him over to the interests of the 
 Stuart party : for this zealous Jacobite was well 
 aware, that while some might advance the cause 
 by their power or possessions, there were 
 others, from whose spirit of enterprise, and 
 constancy of purpose, double advantage would 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 157 
 
 accrue. William had been for a short time 
 in foreign service, and had only relinquished a 
 military life, which was so well suited to his 
 tastes, because he could not bear the idea of 
 serving any country but his own, or of running 
 the risk of one day turning his arms against 
 England. 
 
 Stanley, who really admired the character of his 
 young countryman, directed all his thoughts to 
 William^s political conversion, and, in pos- 
 session of more information than the latter 
 suspected, he thought how best he might turn 
 that information to account. He accordingly 
 seized the opportunity of insinuating that En- 
 glish affairs wore a favourable aspect, and that 
 ere long, the time would come when titles and 
 possessions which had been illegally suspended, 
 would again be restored under a new govern- 
 ment. He dwelt with subtlety on the satis- 
 faction which every patriotic mind must expe- 
 rience on witnessing the final triumph of justice, 
 and the unspeakable joy of a re-establishment 
 in their native country. 
 
 William listened with surprise, not unmin- 
 gled with regret, as he deduced from Mr. 
 Stanley^s reasoning that he was acquainted with 
 
158 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 the circumstances of his uncle^s disgrace ; but 
 he judged it better not to make any remark 
 upon the subject^ as the tone of Stanley's voice 
 was neither individual nor emphatic. William 
 suffered himself to listen with interest while 
 his companion drew a picture of domestic life, 
 which he affirmed belonged more especially to 
 England. He painted in vivid colours the 
 blessings of a home which should always be 
 situated in the land of our ancestors, and then 
 winding up his discourse with a burst of en- 
 thusiasm, declared his belief that the time was 
 not far distant, when such happiness would be 
 his own portion. " Then,^^ he exclaimed, ^' the 
 slightest service, the humblest loyalt}^, wall be 
 rewarded, and England will glory in a monarch 
 who forgets to revenge, and only remembers to 
 recompense 1^^ 
 
 At this moment the coach stopped before 
 William^s door, and Stanley having fulfilled 
 Madame D^Aubry^s commands to the letter, 
 took a friendly leave of Clifford, promising to 
 visit him on the morrow, and strongly advising 
 him not to expose himself to any fatigue. 
 
 But when the morrow came William mounted 
 his horse, and proceeded towards the Fort du Ha, 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 159 
 
 in Spite of these counsels, or the more important 
 remonstrances of his hurt Hmb. As he rode along 
 the streets, his reflections were of that nature 
 which dressed every object in bright colours, and 
 incHned his heart to a feeling of universal bene- 
 volence. The more engrossing thoughts of friend- 
 ship and love had lately detained him from the 
 society of De Brissac ; but Cliff'ord now deter- 
 mined to pay his respects to the general, immedi- 
 ately after the long anticipated interview with 
 Dumont. He blamed himself, indeed, for having 
 allowed so long a time to elapse without visiting 
 the governor, whose kindness had been unre- 
 mitting since their first accidental meeting, and 
 who always welcomed his young friend with 
 the same benevolent smile and warm greeting 
 as ever, without remarking on the rareness of 
 his visits. On arriving at the fortress he was 
 positively refused admittance to Dumont ; and 
 on inquiring for the general, was told that he 
 was indisposed. 
 
 But Clifford was not to be refused, and he 
 insisted that De Brissac should at least be 
 informed of his visit. He was soon ushered 
 into the veteran's dressing-room, where he 
 found him in the uncommon position of loung- 
 ing in a large chair, and bearing evident marks 
 
160 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 of suffering. De Brissac raised his head as the 
 other entered, and shaking his hand warmly, 
 bade him be seated ; though not until he had 
 remarked upon ClifFord^s lameness, and in- 
 quired the cause. 
 
 " I am not well, William,^^ he began ; "and 
 this business of M. Dumont is not calculated 
 to cheer me. I will not weary you with a long 
 account of the regent's letter, which I received 
 two days ago, or the fault he finds with my 
 treatment of the prisoner ; but you know how 
 often with me inclination is compelled to yield 
 to duty, and solitary confinement must be 
 again enforced, I fear, for a longer time. Do 
 not look so reproachfully at me, my dear boy ; 
 you have no idea of the sorrow which an accu- 
 mulation of circumstances has lately brought 
 upon me. I am convinced that the state of my 
 mind is prejudicial to my health. Yom* old 
 friend, William, has not much longer to live, in 
 a world where he is already forgotten." 
 
 Clifford was affected by the ^ad strain of the 
 old man's conversation, and addressed him in 
 a tone of affectionate respect, which was not 
 lost upon De Brissac. 
 
 " I will not tell you, nor indeed could I," 
 continued the latter, "all that has passed be- 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 161 
 
 tween the regent and myself on the subject of 
 M. Dumont ; but one thing I am determined 
 upon, that while he is under my care, I will 
 protect as well as guard him, and I can only 
 hope, for his sake, that, during the remnant of 
 my life, he may continue in Bordeaux/^ 
 
 '^ I trust so, indeed,^^ rephed Wilham, alarmed 
 by the ambiguous manner in which he spoke ; 
 " but why should you talk so despondingly of 
 your own health ?^' 
 
 " Because,^^ rejoined De Brissac, ," I am 
 impressed with the idea that my end is ap- 
 proaching/^ — He paused, and then added, even 
 more sadly than before, ^^ I have no relation in 
 the world, no natural tie ; but believe me, Wil- 
 liam, I love you as a son, and my prayer, at 
 this moment, is, that you may close my eyes ; 
 would to God I could believe it possible ! " 
 
 " Do not,^^ answered his companion, " add 
 to my sorrow by such melancholy forebodings. 
 I trust you may hve many years to watch over 
 the safety of Bordeaux, to advocate the cause 
 of the unfortunate, and benefit me by your 
 friendship and counsels.^^ 
 
 The old man shook his head, and then taking 
 advantage of the subject, he exhorted William 
 
162 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 never to involve himself in the intrigues of 
 party ; and, at the same time, hinted his belief 
 that some of the ChevaUer de St. George's 
 agents were in the town. After conversing for 
 some time longer, CliiFord bade him adieu, pro- 
 mising to return soon, while the general, on his 
 part, volunteered to send the first intelligence 
 of any counter orders respecting Dumont, al- 
 though the tone in which he spoke showed 
 plainly how little hope he entertained. 
 
 Clifford left the fortress more sadly than he 
 entered it ; and as he traversed the garden, the 
 chimes of the clock fell on his ear like the knell 
 of those happy hours, which he had passed with 
 Dumont. He fancied there was an unusual 
 tone of mystery in the governor's language, 
 that spoke ill for the prisoner, and as WiUiam 
 rode slowly forward, his imagination, which 
 was sufficiently under the subjection of his 
 heart to be roused by the slightest danger that 
 threatened those he loved, now conjured up 
 many a scene of horror. He beheld in idea a 
 subterranean dungeon into which Dumont had 
 been thrown ; his limbs laden with chains, and 
 his lofty spirit at length bowed beneath the 
 accumulation of mental and bodily suffering — 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 163 
 
 or worse — the noble form of the prisoner ex- 
 tended on the rack^ enduring the same igno- 
 minious and torturing examinations that were 
 then inflicted upon a common malefactor. 
 
 William could not support the picture his 
 own fancy had painted^ and he turned from it 
 to the memory of Blanch. His grief for Du- 
 mont found some compensation in the know- 
 ledge of her aff'ection ; and her lovely image^ as it 
 stood before him glowing with beauty and hap- 
 piness, formed a soothing contrast to his fearful 
 thoughts. Yes ! her love was the Iris of which 
 he had sung ; and though the sky still retained 
 its threatening aspect, and clouds of doubt and 
 sorrow were suspended above his head, that 
 arch of hope still gleamed before him, and, 
 viewed in every diiFerent direction, presented 
 some new and brilliant colouring, while it held 
 out a future promise of serenity and joy ! 
 
 He proceeded to the Hotel D^Aubry, but dis- 
 appointment dogged his steps, and met him at 
 every corner. Madame D^Aubry had ordered 
 that no one should be admitted. 
 
 William was now suiFering from violent 
 throbbing in the limb, which was not likely to 
 be improved by its pendent position, and he 
 
164 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 therefore retraced his steps to his soHtary home. 
 On the table he found a long epistle from Ma- 
 dame D^Aubry^ entreating him not to leave the 
 house, and recommending a skilful leech, who 
 was the bearer of the letter. 
 
 William felt more inclined to docihty than 
 he had done in the morning, and seeing that 
 there was no help for it, he allowed the surgeon 
 to prescribe a course of remedies, of which he 
 considered confinement as the severest. 
 
 The man of medicine brought daily inquiries 
 from the Hotel D^Aubry, to which, however, 
 was annexed a positive refusal to admit the 
 invalid within that house, until he received due 
 permission to stir from home. Upwards of a 
 week, therefore, elapsed, and neither the days 
 nor the hours appeared diminished by the impa- 
 tience of William's mind. Stanley visited him 
 frequently, and from him he learned that the 
 governor remained indisposed; of Blanch he 
 heard nothing, excepting that her name was 
 always coupled with her aunt's in the tender 
 inquiries with which the surgeon was intrusted. 
 Clifford longed to know whether she had come 
 to an explanation with Madame D'Aubr)-, and 
 having at length extorted a permission to leave 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 165 
 
 the house^ he once more mounted his horse, 
 and galloped through the streets, without draw- 
 ing a rein till he arrived in the Chapeau Rouge ; 
 but he did so just as Madame D^Aubry^s coach 
 turned the opposite corner and disappeared. 
 Greatly dispirited, he however drew up before 
 the door, to inquire when the carriage was likely 
 to return, and was informed by the servant 
 that Miss Courtenay had given orders for his 
 admittance if he called. 
 
166 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 William walked eagerly up the stairs^ and 
 pushing open the door, he entered gently. 
 Blanch was sitting in the recess of the window, 
 with her back towards the door; and if sur- 
 prised at finding her alone, he was alarmed by 
 the dejection of her attitude. 
 
 He approached, however, with all the warmth 
 that their engagement warranted; but was 
 shocked to see her turn from him the moment 
 their eyes met, and hide her face between her 
 hands. At that instant, Dumont^s warning 
 seemed to vibrate in Clifford's ears; but it 
 was only for an instant, and the next he 
 advanced two or three steps, exclaiming, 
 
 " What has happened, Blanch, that this 
 meeting should be so different from our last ?'' 
 
 " Oh'/' replied the other, in a voice choked 
 
THE STxVTE PRISONER. 167 
 
 by emotion, but without raising her head, 
 " how shall I have the courage to tell you all — 
 to tell you that we must part ?" 
 
 " Part!" echoed William, in an impatient 
 tone, while he bent a look of stern reproach on 
 the fair creature before him; ^^is this the mo- 
 ment, that I have looked to so ardently, the 
 thought of which has cheered those long, long 
 days of separation, — and can you be so cold 
 and so unmoved, Blanch, when you torture 
 me by such a declaration }'' 
 
 She turned her beautiful face towards him, 
 now disfigured and swollen by weeping, \^dth 
 an expression of mild reproof. 
 
 " You did not mean to wound me, WiUiam/^ 
 she said, after a pause ; ^^ and when you have 
 heard, I trust you will cease to blame me. I 
 should never have taken this step, I should 
 never have exposed myself to a possibility of 
 your censure, by receiving you in a clandestine 
 manner, had I not had something of importance 
 to communicate. Read this letter ; it is a sum- 
 mons from my father; and when you have done 
 so, let me know if you coincide with my opinion 
 that it is incumbent on me to return to Eng- 
 land. Whether to remain there or not, or 
 
168 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 whether to precede you only by a short time, 
 will depend entirely on yourself; for, indeed, I 
 love to think that every future thought and 
 action of my life will be influenced by you/^ 
 
 Clifford gazed on the letter with more atten- 
 tion than composure; and the frown that had 
 gathered on his brow when he first entered the 
 room, gave way to an expression of doubt and 
 grief. He read the paper twice without speak- 
 ing, and when he had done so, he placed it 
 on the table, exclaiming, ^^ I was not prepared 
 for this ; at least, not so soon ! Blanch,^^ he 
 continued, taking her hand, and looking into 
 her face, with a sadness that did not bid fair 
 to cheer her spirits, as the whole fabric of 
 happiness seemed tottering beneath his feet ; 
 ^' dear Blanch, on that blessed night when 
 your own lips assured me of happiness, I 
 told you then that it was a crime in me 
 to love you. Mystery and misfortune are 
 linked with my destiny, and I should never 
 have asked you to share them with me. 
 But what will you say, or rather what will 
 you think of me now, when I tell you 
 that there are reasons, powerful, invincible 
 reasons, against our immediate union ; and. 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 169 
 
 above all^ that those reasons must remain 
 secret^ even to you^ with whom I would fondly 
 share the inmost thoughts of my soul." 
 
 He appeared greatly distressed^ and the 
 warm blood that flowed into Blanche's pallid 
 cheek showed how far she participated in his 
 feelings. 
 
 ^^ How m," he continued, ^^ do I seem to 
 repay your confidence, and what room do I 
 not afford for suspicion ! But oh ! Blanch, let 
 me find a merciful judge in you ; and so far 
 believe that this mystery which may appear 
 unwarrantable, will in itseK tend to the ac- 
 complishment of our mutual wishes. Go to 
 England; but let me entreat you not to men- 
 tion our engagement to your parents, until I 
 arrive to claim you, or until they propose 
 another marriage. I know such concealment 
 will be irksome to your nature, and am but too 
 well aware that your position vnll be one of 
 embarrassment ; but if I can judge you from 
 myself, Blanch, a sacrifice made for me, will 
 not be wholly displeasing.'^ 
 
 " You are the only person, William," she 
 replied, " who ever read my heart so deeply. 
 Had you asked me to do what was easy and 
 
 VOL. I. I 
 
170 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 agreeable to my selfi:^h inclinations I could not 
 have promised obedience with so much confi- 
 dence. But^ good heavens/^ she continued, 
 ^^ we talk of it calmly now ; and when we are 
 miles and miles apart, when I cannot even hear 
 your name mentioned, or converse with those 
 who know you ; when scenes which are not 
 hallowed by your memory rise before me, and 
 strangers talk indifferently of those in which I 
 knew and loved you ! Oh, William, who will 
 ease my bursting heart; who will console me 
 when I think of the trials you may endure, or 
 the inducements you may have to forget your 
 poor Blanch V' 
 
 She leaned her head upon his shoulder and 
 wept. 
 
 " And you,^' he exclaimed, as he stooped 
 down and kissed the glossy ringlet that lay upon 
 his bosom ; ^^ you, in the centre of a brilliant 
 court, loved, flattered, and admired, with every 
 attraction of wealth and splendour to vrean 
 your thoughts from me, how dare I hope that 
 you will withstand all these allurements for my 
 sake alone ?" 
 
 " How?^' replied Blanch, as if wounded by 
 the doubt ; " l)y reading the heart that is all 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. l7l 
 
 your own ; by the assurance that I loved you 
 even before that blessed moment which assured 
 me of your affection/^ 
 
 Clifford pressed her hand, and continued: 
 " Still that letter contains a hundred causes 
 for uneasiness ; it gives me an insight into your 
 father^s character ; and if his commands should 
 point to an immediate union with another ; if 
 threats and menaces are used to intimidate 
 you }'' 
 
 " William \" she exclaimed, raising her head 
 hastily, " are you one of those who suppose 
 a woman incapable of resolution, even where 
 her dearest feelings are concerned ? Believe 
 me,^^ she added, proudly, " there does not 
 exist the power on earth that could compel me 
 to one act which my o'wn sense of truth and 
 honour would condemn/^ 
 
 William gazed on her in silent admiration ; 
 then, taking a small ring from his bosom, 
 
 " Give me your hand, Blanch I'' he exclaimed, 
 "nay, it is mine already, and I wish merely 
 to secure it mine for ever, by a fetter that 
 will only be acknowledged by you/^ 
 
 She held out her trembhng hand, and, as 
 William placed the ring upon her finger, a 
 i2 
 
172 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 thousand bright associations connected with 
 the act passed before their minds, and lent it a 
 deep and thrilling interest. William held the 
 small white hand in his, and bade her read the 
 device, which was one they both loved. " Qui 
 bien aime, tard oublie.^' Blanch looked around 
 for a moment, and then, taking a massive gold 
 chain from her own neck, she threw it over his. 
 
 " There V^ she said, smiling, though the tears 
 stood in her eyes, while her voice assumed a 
 tone where deep feeling was mingled with a 
 degree of playfulness, under which she en- 
 deavoured to conceal her emotion. " There ! 
 your fetters, at least, shall be more power- 
 ful, more evident ; but beware how you trifle 
 with this magic chain, for should the heart that 
 beats beneath it, wander for one single instant, 
 from its allegiance, the golden links will snap 
 asunder and divide into a thousand parts, never 
 to be joined again by the hand of mortal 
 workman." 
 
 A pause ensued, — a pause 
 
 " When every glance implied a word, 
 That by the heart's own ear was heard." 
 
 But after a moment Blanch exclaimed, ^^ Ma- 
 dame D^Aubry is returned ! I hear her voice 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 173 
 
 in the corridor. Nay^ William, you must not 
 leave me now; the moment is arrived when, 
 with her at least, concealment is unnecessary, 
 and would be ungenerous.^^ 
 
 Ere he could answer, Madame D^Aubry en- 
 tered the room. She appeared thunderstruck 
 at seeing him, and murmured a few, and almost 
 indistinct words, about the impropriety of her 
 niece's receiving visits during her absence. 
 Blanch approached her gently, and spoke to 
 her for several moments, in so low a tone as 
 not to reach William's ear ; but he could per- 
 ceive the effect of the intelligence she commu- 
 nicated by the consternation depicted in Ma- 
 dame D'Aubrj^s countenance, while tears and 
 sobs soon bore visible and audible evidence of 
 her despair. The poor woman was placed in a 
 most distressing situation; in one where she was 
 called upon to act, before she had time to reflect 
 on what course she would pursue. The regard 
 she entertained for William, indeed, forbade her 
 to manifest her displeasure towards him in open 
 terms; and she therefore contented herself with 
 sundry reproving glances in his direction, while 
 on Blanch fell the weight of her uttered re- 
 proaches. It would be a work of time to ana- 
 
174 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 lyze every component ingredient of Madame 
 D^Aubry^s vexation — fear of her brother^s 
 anger, disappointment at the failure of every 
 brilliant prospect she had conjured up for 
 Blanch, mortification at the triumph such an 
 event would occasion among her rivals, and, 
 lastly, vexation at not having discovered the 
 secret of their attachment before. Madame 
 D'Aubry dreaded few imputations more than a 
 want of penetration in les affaires de coeur, as 
 she feared it might argue a lack of admiration 
 in the early part of her life; and she never 
 forgot (although it was her nature to forgive) 
 her brother's insinuation, that she had accepted 
 M. D'Aubry because no one else had given her 
 the opportunity. Added to this was the unex- 
 pected manner in which the business was an- 
 nounced. Madame D'Aubrj^'s presence of mind 
 could not compass any thing so sudden ; and 
 then, to increase her perplexity, came the recol- 
 lection that William, her handsome favourite, 
 William, had been suffering a whole week from 
 the effects of his exertion in her own behalf ; so 
 that towards him, at least, she was tonguetied. 
 To feel conscious that you have an indisput- 
 able right to be angry, and yet writhe beneath 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 175 
 
 the necessity of curbing the expression, must be 
 a severe trial to any man, but still more so to 
 a woman; and it was long before Blanch (on 
 whom, in consequence, fell the double share of 
 indignation), by dint of argument, persuasion, 
 and caresses, could in any degree pacify her 
 aunt. The only comfort the good lady found 
 was in hearing that the period for the marriage 
 was undecided, and that the lovers were im- 
 mediately to separate. She trusted a great deal 
 to time and absence, and was consoled that her 
 formidable brother was to be kept in ignorance 
 for the present. 
 
 All this time William kept aloof, in no agree- 
 able state of mind, entwining his hand so 
 frequently with the chain which Blanch had 
 given him, as to make it more than probable that 
 the threatened division of links would speedily 
 ensue ; or, occasionally playing with his sword- 
 knot, or destroying the beautiful bouquet that he 
 had just presented to her he loved. At last she 
 approached, and said, she believed it would be 
 better to leave her and Madame D'Aubry to- 
 gether; informing him at the same time that 
 her departure was fixed for the morning after 
 the next, and that she had prevailed on her 
 
176 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 aunt to allow him to pass the intervening day 
 at the Hotel D'Aubry. 
 
 Clifford saluted the hostess as he left the 
 roonij and she returned his greeting by a silent 
 inclination of the head ; although^ as she 
 watched him across the room^ with a step that 
 was still uneven^ it required all her self-com- 
 mand not to call him back. 
 
 The morrow came, and Madame D'Aubry, 
 who continued to steer the middle course, 
 which appeared the safest to her conscience, in 
 all respects, received William with the same 
 tacit ceremony. The betrothed sat apart, and 
 talked of every interest that they had in com- 
 mon. There was only one subject, however, 
 which could for a moment withdraw their 
 thoughts from their coming separation ; while 
 Blanch learning with regret the anxiety that 
 William suffered on account of Dumont, strove 
 to speak cheerfully on the subject, and if her 
 arguments failed in inspiring hope, at least her 
 sweet voice had consolation in its tone. 
 
 Towards evening, they sought the balcony, and 
 inhaled together, for the last time, the perfume 
 of the flowers that were no longer to thrive be- 
 neath her care. There are times when the mind 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 177 
 
 is involuntarily impressed with the evanescence 
 of all that pertains to earthy when the hours 
 seem to glide away with supernatural speed, 
 and the palpable present to fade even while we 
 gaze upon it. Thus it was with Blanch ; though 
 she stood beside William, with her hand closely 
 locked in his, she already believed him gone. 
 She turned her eyes upon the well-known build- 
 ings, the large towers of St. Andre, on her own 
 little bower of plants, but every object wore a 
 strange aspect. It was from that spot, that, in 
 a moment of unguarded aiFection, she had 
 thrown the white rose, which William still pre- 
 served; it was there she had Hstened to his 
 song, and it was there that they once more 
 watched the magnificent sunset, which closed a 
 day of cloudless serenity. They looked to- 
 wards the sky, and then upon each other; there 
 was pleasure in the thought, that the same ray 
 fell upon both. They watched the day decline, 
 and the night set in, and the young moon rise 
 slowly in the east, and hang its little crescent 
 over the town, and then Blanch turned to her 
 lover and bade him sing the ^^ Exile's Home.'' 
 '^ Let me hear it once more, WiUiam," she 
 i3 
 
178 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 said, ^^ now tliat my heart can so well respond 
 to every note/' 
 
 She fixed her eyes upon the heavens, and 
 drank in every sound as William began the 
 song. His voice was low and mellow, but 
 feeling lent it so exquisite a pathos and so 
 harmonious a modulation, as even struck his 
 own perception. Every word appeared to float 
 from his lips the effect of spontaneous thought, 
 and had Blanch withdrawn her steady gaze 
 from the sky, she would have confessed that 
 his countenance was more animated and beam- 
 ing than she had ever yet beheld it. He 
 finished — she did not thank him, for it would 
 have been mockery to offer words in return for 
 the intensity of pleasure he had afforded. 
 
 Here the little timepiece which stood in the 
 room, followed by the chimes of every clock in 
 Bordeaux, startled Blanch, by the late hour it 
 announced, and, addressing William, in a low 
 tone, she led him towards Madame D'Aubry, 
 who was weeping silently in one corner of the 
 apartment. 
 
 ^^ Speak to him, dear aunt,'^ she said, kneeling 
 by her side, while taking her hand affectionately 
 she placed it in that of Chfford. '^Can any 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. \.7^ 
 
 one who is so dear to your poor Blanch, be 
 indifferent to you }" 
 
 '^ No/' faltered Madame D'Aubry, returning 
 the friendly pressure of his hand, "but, oh 
 Blanch, what will your parents say }'' 
 
 " They will learn to bless him, as you do,'' 
 she replied ; " will you not bless us both ?" 
 
 The poor woman's tears fell faster, and it 
 was some moments before her voice was suf- 
 ficiently audible. 
 
 " God bless you !" she said at last, " if you 
 will have it so. God in his infinite mercy look 
 down on you both, and bless you both, my 
 children, and comfort me when you are gone, 
 my dear, dear Blanch." 
 
 As she spoke with more seriousness and 
 dignity than usual, WiUiam kneeled by the side 
 of Blanch and echoed the prayer ; and then 
 they rose, and throwing his arm round the 
 waist of his betrothed, he pressed her fondly 
 to his heart. 
 
 " Farewell, Blanch," he said, " my own 
 sweet Blanch ; let neither indirect nor daring 
 insinuations wean your heart from me ; think of 
 me as you do now, till you know me dead, or 
 see me changed. Farewell, my love, my wife !" 
 
180 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 " Not yet/' murmured Blanch ; " in another 
 moment I shall be calmer — one moment longer, 
 for the love of heaven." 
 
 William felt her heart beat violently against 
 his own, and his firmness almost forsook him ; 
 he extricated himself with gentle violence from 
 her clinging arms, imprinted one more kiss on 
 her cold forehead, wrung Madame D'Aubry's 
 hand, and was gone. 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 181 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 On the morning following the events we have 
 just related^ Blanch took an affectionate leave of 
 Madame D'Aubry, and entered the ponderous 
 vehicle that was to convey her to the coast. 
 Her fellow-travellers consisted of the respect- 
 able female attendant whom her aunt had 
 lately procured^ and that lady^s own confiden- 
 tial servant. Books^ letters of recommenda- 
 tion, and every sort of precaution against danger 
 and ennui had also been provided ; but Blanch 
 was too much absorbed by her own reflections^ 
 too much astonished at the novelty of her 
 situation^ to take these trifles into considera- 
 tion. She had kept her departure as secret as 
 possible ; yet^ as the coach rolled heavily 
 through the streets^ many of the lower classes^ 
 who had profited by her Hberality, greeted 
 her as slie passed, and occasionally a cavalier of 
 
182 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 higher rank brought his face to a level with the 
 window, and bade her prosper on the journey. 
 
 There were not many, indeed, whose taste 
 led them to be abroad at so early an hour ; but 
 there were enough to increase her melancholy. 
 It is difficult to look upon features that have 
 long been familiar to us, sensible that it is for 
 the last time, without emotioa ; and Blanch re- 
 turned the greetings with a heightened colour, 
 and a glistening eye. Even those whose society 
 had once appeared irksome, or whose attentions 
 were totally indifferent to her, she now remem- 
 bered with gratitude, bordering on regret, in her 
 softened mood of sadness. 
 
 She had entreated WiUiam to spare her the 
 struggle of another parting ; but, as the carriage 
 stopped under the last gateway, some flowers 
 were thrust in at the window, and a well-known 
 hand pressed the one that was extended to re- 
 ceive them with eagerness. As she drove under 
 the vaulted archway, there appeared something 
 ominous to Blanch's excited fancy in the hollow 
 echo produced by the carriage ;— there was a 
 farewell in every casual sound, a look of parting 
 in every countenance that passed; but those 
 flowers, and that touch wakened deeper emo- 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 183 
 
 tions. She waved her hand ; she looked from 
 the window^ and caught a glimpse of his form ; 
 and then, unwilling that her companions should 
 observe the tears she could no longer restrain, 
 Blanch concealed herself behind the large silk 
 curtains, and gave way to reflection. The 
 town in which she had passed so many happy 
 hours was nothing to her now it was true : she 
 had no ostensible tie ; no claim superior to that 
 of the j)assing traveller who had sojourned there 
 for any time. Yet, as Blanch quitted a place 
 endeared to her by so many recollections, she 
 felt that it would be impossible ever to consider 
 any other as her home. To the chmate of Bor- 
 deaux she owed the entire re-establishment of 
 her health; for when first placed under Madame 
 D'Aubry^s care, her life was despaired of. It 
 was there, too, she had experienced the gradual 
 development of the mind, (that period of un- 
 paralleled interest in the history of our own life,) 
 when every passing day discovers the possession 
 of some intellectual quality which had never 
 been roused into action during the early years 
 of childhood. She was journeying, it is true, to 
 her native country, to the home of her parents ; 
 but that country was unfamihar, and those pa- 
 
184 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 rents strangers. Poor Blanch ! the resolution 
 which characterized her nature shrank before 
 the consciousness of her lonely situation. 
 
 Indeed^ it required a more picturesque and 
 interesting country, than that through which she 
 travelled, to rouse her from a growing insensi- 
 bility to all external objects ; and it would 
 require a pen more deeply imbued with the 
 tincture of imagination, to render such a journey 
 either agreeable or tolerable even in the society 
 of Blanch Courtenay. We will therefore emulate 
 the silent mood in which she travelled, and, 
 embarking at the same time with the reader, 
 find ourselves in their joint company on the 
 shores of England. 
 
 It was with a feeling akin to pleasure, that 
 Blanch first set foot on the strand, although 
 repose was the only object of her desire. Her 
 heart swelled with no pulse of patriotism ; her 
 mind expanded with no thought of triumph, 
 though she had once beUeved the sight of her 
 native island would inspire such feelings. She 
 only remembered that the sea had raised his 
 barrier between them; that they no longer 
 '^ trod a common land.^^ 
 
 Amongst those who landed at the same time 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 185 
 
 with herself, there were many whose relatives 
 or friends welcomed them on the beach ; and as 
 Blanch watched the various meetings, a sense 
 of utter desolation crept over her mind. 
 
 At the inn, however, she was received with 
 every demonstration of respect, while a servant 
 in the royal livery awaited her with a letter from 
 Sir PhiUp. It was couched in kind (but, as 
 .Blanch fancied, rather ceremonious) terms, to 
 bid his daughter welcome, and to recommend 
 the bearer to her notice. "He is a trust- 
 worthy man,^' so ran the letter, " who has 
 lived several years in my family, and has re- 
 ceived orders to escort you in my coach to 
 the palace, where Lady Courtenay and myself 
 will expect you the second day from your dis- 
 embarkation.^' 
 
 Taking leave of Madame D'Aubry's servant, 
 by whom she despatched a small packet to 
 Bordeaux, Blanch entered her father's carriage, 
 passed the night at an inn on the road which 
 had been specified in the letter, and the next 
 morning proceeded on her journey. During 
 the conclusion of the second day, she dwelt 
 with vague apprehension on the meeting with 
 
186 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 her parents, and fell into a long train of thought, 
 from which she was at length aroused by the 
 servant^s announcing that they were entering 
 the precincts of the palace. 
 
 Twilight had almost faded into darkness ; but 
 as Blanch looked from the window, she admired 
 the outline of the building, whose irregularity 
 heightened its otherwise picturesque appear- 
 ance. 
 
 There were already several ghmmering lights 
 in many of the windows, and as they drove up 
 to the principal entrance, the sentineFs chal- 
 lenge was heard; but the gates were thrown 
 open on the appearance of Sir PhiUp^s servant, 
 and entering a large quadrangle, the coach 
 passed through two archways, and drew up be- 
 fore a third. Blanch heard a man^s voice, 
 pitched in a tone of authority, and in a few 
 moments several servants appeared by the side 
 of the carriage, holding flambeaux. Half daz- 
 zled by the sudden glare, she allowed the steps 
 to be lowered in silence, and then, springing to 
 the ground, found herself in her father's arms. 
 
 ^^ It is an hour later than you were expected," 
 he said ; " and Lady Courtenay has almost 
 
THE STATE PRISONEU. 18? 
 
 given up every hope of seeing you till to-mor- 
 row. But we must not remain here, for these 
 old courts are damp and chilly of a night/^ 
 
 He took his daughter's arm, while at a sign 
 from him two or three servants led the way up 
 a spacious staircase, the foot of which was 
 guarded by a sentinel, who presented arms. 
 They then entered a large chamber, where seve- 
 ral yeomen of the guard were lounging round a 
 blazing fire, but on the appearance of Sir Philip 
 they assumed a more respectful demeanour. 
 Blanch, still hanging on his arm, had not dared 
 to lift her eyes, although she longed to look 
 upon her father ; and perhaps it was a similar 
 feeling that withheld his gaze. They traversed 
 a gallery that communicated with several well- 
 lit and well-furnished apartments, lined with 
 servants in splendid Hveries, and then entered 
 a large room, where Blanch perceived a lady 
 sitting by the fire. 
 
 Sir Phihp approached : ^' Lady Courtenay ! '' 
 he exclaimed, " your daughter is arrived.^^ 
 
 The lady rose hastily, and as Blanch ad- 
 vanced eagerly to meet her embrace, she tasted 
 for the first time, the sweet influence of maternal 
 love. " Oh, Philip ! '' exclaimed his wife, in a 
 
188 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 tone of great emotion^ " look at our Blanch ; 
 how beautiful she is ! " 
 
 " I cannot deny it/^ rephed Sir Philip, taking 
 his daughter's hand, and gazing on her with un- 
 feigned admiration. " I did not beheve my 
 sister's description had so fair an original. But 
 you must learn to bear a comphment with more 
 composure/' he added, smiling: "that cheek 
 will never be cool, if a word from your parents 
 can call up so warm a blush." 
 
 Blanch kissed Sir Philip's hand, and then 
 turned to her mother, who wept for joy. 
 
 " How like her poor sister she looks, Philip!" 
 she exclaimed at intervals, for her voice was 
 almost choked by sobs. 
 
 But her husband did not answer: he ap- 
 peared distressed, and almost ashamed of the 
 agitation she displayed; while the rebuke he 
 conveyed in a single glance, succeeded in ulti- 
 mately checking her tears, and they then ad- 
 journed to the next room, where supper had 
 been served in the mean while. 
 
 Blanch had been accustomed, in Madame 
 D'Aubry's house, to every comfort and luxury 
 which affluence could command ; yet the num- 
 ber of servants, the profusion of dishes, and 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 189 
 
 the display of plate that now presented them- 
 selvesj appeared to her as bordering on osten- 
 tation. She strove to silence a reflection so 
 disparaging to the motives of her parents, and 
 concluded that it was the usual style of living 
 in England, or, perhaps, a mark of welcome on 
 her return. 
 
 The conversation occasionally turned upon 
 Bordeaux ; and Sir Philip made some careless 
 inquiries relating to his sister, and the society 
 in which she hved ; but the court was the gene- 
 ral topic, and the possibility or probability of 
 the king's speedy return to Hampton Court, 
 was discussed in a manner that was but little 
 interesting to Blanch. 
 
 Sir PhiUp endeavoured to discover the effect 
 his brilliant descriptions of a Hfe at court pro- 
 duced on his daughter's mind, and was sur- 
 prised at the apathy with which she listened to 
 such important matters. Lady Courtenay con- 
 versed but little; scarcely withdrawing her eyes 
 from her newly-gained child, whose every look 
 and movement, were watched with an earnest- 
 ness that somewhat distressed its object. For- 
 tunately, however, both parents agreed in sup- 
 posing Blanch might be fatigued, and they 
 
190 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 proposed that she should retire early to rest, 
 in which she readily acquiesced. 
 
 Lady Courtenay led her daughter into the 
 apartment which had been prepared for her, 
 overpowering her with affectionate caresses; 
 and yet, as the door closed behind her mother, 
 Blanch doubted if her reception had been a 
 satisfactory one. In Lady Courtenay^s still 
 handsome face she beheld such a rapid transi- 
 tion of expression, that she doubted if any one 
 of the feelings that gave rise to such transient 
 demonstrations could be either deep or lasting. 
 And yet, on the whole, her mother had made the 
 more favourable impression, for in her father's 
 deportment there was far too much ceremony 
 and punctilio ; nor could she hide from herself 
 that in their first mutual embrace, there had 
 been something constrained, and almost cold, in 
 his manner. Wearied in body and excited in 
 mind, Blanch sank upon her knees, and com- 
 mitted herself and him she loved, to the protec- 
 tion of an almighty power ; and then, with her 
 heart full of William, she fell asleep, and passed 
 the first night (after an absence of many years) 
 under her paternal roof. 
 
 Leaving her to the enjoyment of those calm 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 191 
 
 slumbers which are often accorded to the inno- 
 cent mind^ even when a prey to doubt and 
 sorrow, we will return to the society of her 
 parents, and investigate their separate and op- 
 posite dispositions. Sir Philip Courtenay had 
 been accustomed, from his earliest childhood, to 
 look upon himself as entitled to the first place 
 in his own consideration, and that of every one 
 else. Self was the mainspring of every project, 
 the secret cause of every word, look, and action ; 
 and even, in a world where selfishness must 
 ever predominate. Sir Philip^s attachment to 
 his own individuality was carried to an unusual 
 excess. 
 
 There are few persons, however egotistically 
 inclined, who will not occasionally sacrifice 
 their wishes to the gratification or benefit of 
 another : but not so Courtenay ; where he be- 
 stowed a gift it was with the hope of remune- 
 ration ; where he extended patronage it was 
 with the prospect of gain. The court had for 
 many years been the secret object of his am- 
 bition ; and, to procure an office in the house- 
 hold, he laid an extensive county interest at 
 the feet of the ministry, and abandoned, with- 
 out a sigh, the fine old ancestral domain in 
 
192 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 which his childhood and youth had been passed. 
 Installed in the palace of Hampton Court, 
 where the king occasionally resided. Sir Philip 
 was not yet satisfied ; he must stand higher in 
 the favour of royalty ; he must be quoted as a 
 constant companion of majesty, and receive 
 public demonstrations of condescension. How 
 much further his ambition extended, would be 
 difficult, and might be presumptuous to surmise ; 
 but we will do him the justice to say, that no 
 unforeseen circumstance ever threw him oif his 
 guard ; every opinion he supported, and every 
 step he took, were all calculated upon, and each 
 tended to the same end. His very associates 
 were chosen with prudence ; and the similarity 
 of taste which his majesty and Sir Phihp dis- 
 played in friendship, was not a little remarkable. 
 Another striking feature in the baronefs cha- 
 racter was the thorough contempt with which 
 he regarded the fair sex. Grace, beauty, and 
 lively conversation were all he expected, all he 
 wished for in women ; to bear their folly and 
 to tolerate their weakness, all that he considered 
 due to them, and not so much as his generosity 
 could always accord. The mental inferiority 
 both of his wife and sister confirmed the general 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 193 
 
 opinion he had formed^ and this consideration had 
 induced him to defer the recal of his daughter, 
 in the hope that her marriage abroad would rid 
 him of an additional encumbrance. But it had 
 chanced that some one who had visited Bor- 
 deaux, returned with so hvely a description of 
 Blanches extraordinary beauty, as completely 
 changed Sir Philip's system of domestic policy. 
 With so lovely a being by his side would he not 
 become of double importance ? and might she 
 not, by forming an advantageous alliance, prove 
 a stepping-stone to every scheme of ambition. 
 Sir Philip's determination was soon taken; and 
 shortly after, he announced to his wife that he 
 had complied with her repeated soUcitations for 
 the return of Blanch, and had already written 
 to Bordeaux on the subject. Lady Courtenay 
 was overpowered with joy, surprise, and grati- 
 tude; her wishes had indeed been frequent, but 
 she knew her husband's nature too well to 
 weary him by prayers. He had always been 
 her idol, and it was supposed that the difficulty 
 she found in concealing her predilection had 
 determined the baronet on consoling the lady 
 with his hand and himself with her fortune. 
 Imphcit, unqualified obedience, was the tribute 
 
 VOL. I. K 
 
194 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 which he exacted, and in the payment of which 
 she never paused. Easily excited by joy or 
 grief, and as easily pacified, Lady Courtenay 
 was nevertheless happy. The repulsive look 
 that checked the slightest demonstration of her 
 '^ sensibihty" (even when called forth by aflfec- 
 tion for himself), the shghting answer to her 
 opinions on any subject which Sir PhiUp 
 deemed above the capacity of woman, occa- 
 sioned a feeling of mortification that was but 
 momentary. Lady Courtenay, with her tender 
 heart, passed unscathed through a thousand 
 nameless trials, which might have overpowered 
 many a stronger mind. Thus the blow may 
 rebound from the hollow surface, but fall with 
 fatal violence on that body whose solidity offers 
 resistance to its force. The submissive wife 
 did not even blame her lord in thought. " It 
 was his way ; he was so superior to herself and 
 every one else, that he could not bring down 
 his superior notions to a level with those of the 
 world in general.^' 
 
 Had any one inquired if Sir Phihp^s general 
 deportment were kind, she would have an- 
 swered in the aftirmative, without the sUghtest 
 hesitation. She delighted in the opportunity 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 195 
 
 of asserting that they had never had one word 
 of altercation since their marriage; which, thanks 
 to her silent forbearance and prompt obedience, 
 was strictly true. Cold and unconfiding, but 
 courteous in the extreme, Courtenay, when in 
 public, treated his wife with a respect that he 
 hoped his example might ensure from others. 
 The day that she stood beside him at the altar. 
 Lady Courtenay believed herself the most en- 
 viable of beings, and the day of her presentation 
 at court, when his majesty inquired of Sir 
 Philip if that lady were his wife, her heart beat 
 with corresponding feelings of pride and aflfec- 
 tion, although so many years had elapsed since 
 their union. 
 
 k2 
 
196 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 The inevitable grief attending the separation 
 of two devotedly attached beings was (in the 
 case of William and Blanch) greatly aggravated 
 by the unusual and uncertain circumstances in 
 which they were both placed. On William's 
 side regret was mingled with the dread of ex- 
 citing a warrantable suspicion, both on the 
 subject of his family and his future prospects. 
 He feared lest his mysterious silence should 
 appear doubly reprehensible to Blanch's calmer 
 judgment ; and, above all, lest, in a moment of 
 perplexity, she should seek refuge in the dis- 
 closure of her secret to some disinterested 
 friend. 
 
 " How," he asked himself, " could the most 
 indulgent of mortals approve the conduct of 
 that man who had suffered his betrothed bride 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 197 
 
 to depart without the sUghtest intimation of his 
 future plans, or of the time and manner in 
 which he would claim her hand ? '' 
 
 Yet the promise, which his uncle had exact- 
 ed, was sacred in Clifford's eyes, and had never 
 been violated by him; the only two persons 
 with whom he had ever conversed on the sub- 
 ject, were, De Brissac and the prisoner. The 
 former, as we have already seen, was personally 
 acquainted with the Chevalier CHfford ; and the 
 latter, in course of conversation, had inquired 
 with much apparent interest, if William were 
 related to two brothers, who some years ago 
 had frequented the court of Versailles, one of 
 whom had married a French lady, and returned 
 to England, but the other, who was the elder, 
 had since been exiled in consequence of his 
 attachment to the unfortunate Stuarts. Find- 
 ing that his uncle's previous history was as well 
 known to Dumont as to himself, William occa- 
 sionally discussed the matter with his friend, 
 without any breach of confidence. Tlie moment 
 was, he thought, now arrived, when it was in- 
 cumbent upon him to take some steps with 
 regard to his future prospects. He therefore 
 commenced an epistle, in which, after a variety 
 
198 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 of indifferent intelligence, he informed the 
 " whilome" earl, that his nephew entertained 
 serious intentions of marriage, which circum- 
 stance naturally increased his anxiety for the 
 recovery of the fortune and estates. He pro- 
 ceeded to express his sorrow that, according 
 to his uncle's present determination, the only 
 prospect of succession was coupled with an 
 event which he prayed God to avert. He then 
 made use of every argument that he judged 
 likely to remove the chevalier's scruples, and 
 induce him to take the only means for regaining 
 the possessions for himself, with the succession 
 for his nephew. He composed four or five de- 
 spatches in this strain before he achieved one 
 that perfectly satisfied him, on all points, and 
 then, having read that over with profound atten- 
 tion, he committed it to the flames ! 
 
 There was something grating to the deUcacy 
 of William's mind, in even alluding to the cir- 
 cumstance ; and he felt that he was wronging 
 l)oth his uncle and himself, by asking the 
 former to make the only sacrifice he had ever 
 refused, and by appearing (himself) for the first 
 time, as a suppliant. 
 
 As he watched his own letter consume, Wil- 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 199 
 
 Ham perhaps appreciated the chevalier's re- 
 pugnance to solicit a favour better than he had 
 ever done before. 
 
 Melancholy and dispirited he left the house^ 
 and wandering through the streets, found him- 
 self at the door of the Hotel D'Aubry. 
 
 He followed the servant mechanically to that 
 room which teemed with the recollection of 
 Blanch, and felt grateful that he was left there 
 alone for a few moments, while his arrival was 
 made known to Madame D'Aubry. He stood 
 as if entranced, casting his eye wistfully around 
 him, with the same feehng as that experienced by 
 the Indian priest, who stood before the vacant al- 
 tar of his temple, when desecrated by the removal 
 of its patron deity. A thousand objects con- 
 nected with her he loved addressed themselves 
 to his inmost heart. Her little table stood in 
 the recess, and on it were scattered a few things 
 that had once belonged to her; at the open 
 window her plants were still thriving, and an 
 exquisitely-finished portrait of herself now 
 hung on that side of the room she usually oc- 
 cupied. The picture was Blanch's parting gift 
 to her aunt, and was remarkable for the sub- 
 dued tone of its colouring, as well as for its 
 
200 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 striking resemblance to tlie original. She was 
 painted in the dress of Diana^ and was leaning 
 on the well-known altar ; and William felt con- 
 vinced that the arrangement of the pictxire had 
 been influenced by a desire to perpetuate the 
 memory of that evenings on which they had 
 
 plighted their vows. 
 
 How long did he stand and gaze upon those 
 speaking features ; upon that pecuHar smile, 
 which appeared to waver between joy and sor- 
 row, awaiting a look or a word from one it 
 loved, to decide the undetermined expression. 
 
 He stood before the picture until he almost 
 wondered the ardour of his gaze did not warm 
 it into life, and then he turned away, and cast 
 himself upon a chair ; but his eyes were again 
 attracted and spell-bound there. 
 
 The interview with Madame D^Aubry was not 
 calculated either to cheer or console William. 
 On entering the apartment she gave way to a 
 burst of tears, and forgetting that Chffbrd had 
 as strong a claim to compassion as herself, she 
 detailed at length the irreparable loss she had 
 sustained in Blanch, while with little judgment 
 she dwelt upon the wilful, and somewhat ty- 
 jrannical disposition of Sir Philip Courtenay, and 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 201 
 
 foretold that much sorrow would result from 
 the influence of such a character over his daugh- 
 ter's destiny. 
 
 There was an indecision about Madame 
 D*Aubry with which William found it difficult 
 to cope : at one moment she lifted her eyes to 
 the picture^ and broke forth into a passionate 
 appeal to his feelings^ addressing him as the 
 future husband of Blanch ; then, after a short 
 pause, her whole manner would change, and 
 her language savour of reproach, as if he had 
 added to the sorrow of parting. Yet, as Wil- 
 liam rose to depart, she called him her dear 
 son, and bade him welcome to the house, that 
 could no longer offer any attraction either for 
 him or any one else, now that its brightest 
 ornament was gone. 
 
 William closed this day of gloom with a visit 
 to De Brissac, whose health and spirits were 
 gradually, but visibly declining. Before Cliff'ord 
 retired to rest, however, he once more resumed 
 his pen, and at length succeeded in achieving a 
 letter to the chevalier. He merely announced 
 his engagement to the daughter of Sir Philip 
 Courtenay, and earnestly requested his uncle^s 
 permission to intrust her with the secret of 
 K 3 
 
202 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 their family affairs, pointing out the embarrass- 
 ment he had experienced in seeing her depart 
 without clearing up the mystery which hung 
 round his name. Perhaps William was not 
 judicious in one of the arguments which he ad- 
 duced, namely, that there could be little use in 
 endeavouring to keep the matter a secret, since 
 he had already met two men, in Bordeaux, who 
 were acquainted with the whole transaction, 
 and a third whom he shrewdly believed to be 
 so. This letter remained long unanswered, 
 although William entreated for a speedy reply, 
 and announced his intention of awaiting it at 
 Bordeaux. 
 
 Madame D^Aubry's servant, who returned in 
 due time from England, brought with him a 
 small billet for William, which Blanch enclosed 
 in a letter to her aunt, and which gave him the 
 more pleasure, as it had been stipulated be- 
 tween them, that they should not correspond 
 after her arrival at home, except on an occasion 
 of sickness, or any emergency ; a plan proposed 
 by Blanch, and acceded to the more readily by 
 William, as he dreaded the risk of a premature 
 discovery. 
 
 It might be about a month after her de- 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 203 
 
 parture, that CliiFord received the following 
 summons from De Brissac : 
 
 ^^ He is going — I know it would grieve you 
 both not to meet again. Supper will be served 
 at the usual hour — I shall expect you ; but be 
 prudent and composed, for the sake of 
 
 " Louis.'' 
 
 CliiFord found the general seated at table with 
 Dumont and two officers of gendarmerie. As 
 he entered, De Brissac pressed his hand: — 
 '^ Gentlemen/' he said, addressing the strangers, 
 " I present to your notice a young English 
 friend of mine, who has lived among us for 
 many months. — M. Dumont, you remember 
 William Clifford." 
 
 Dumont looked up, and saluted his friend 
 with a cold, unruffled courtesy, that sent Wil- 
 liam's blood back to his heart. Tlie others 
 eyed the new comer, and then bowing distantly, 
 proceeded in the important occupation in which 
 they were engaged. 
 
 William took the vacant seat which was 
 placed between the general, who presided at 
 the head of the table, and one of the officers, 
 while, to his regret, Dumont sat at the same 
 side; so that all means of communication w^ere 
 
204 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 thus cut off, and even the prisoner's counte- 
 nance concealed. He endeavoured to converse^ 
 and fortunately the unusual style of his lan- 
 guage was obvious only to those two, who un- 
 derstood the cause. ChfFord watched with 
 painful anxiety the hand that was occasionally 
 extended, and listened with the same degree of 
 interest to every breath the prisoner drew. 
 
 Dumont did not speak often ; but when he 
 did, it was in the same easy, unembarrassed 
 tone that was natural to him. 
 
 William's position was most distressing : he 
 felt that every moment lessened his chance of 
 communication with the prisoner, while the 
 general, who remarked every change of his 
 favourite's countenance, almost regretted the 
 test to which he had put his self-command. 
 
 The repast was finished, and Louis de Bris- 
 sac, who loved old customs, proposed to his 
 guests to form a circle round the hearth, and dis- 
 cuss the merits of his Lafitte. The relative posi- 
 tions were maintained, and William had almost 
 abandoned every hope, when a little incident 
 occurred, which he contrived to turn to some 
 advantage. Before the fire lay a large dog, of 
 a peculiar breed, the property of the youngest 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 205 
 
 of the officers_, who was not a little flattered 
 by the admiration which his favourite excited. 
 William in particular won the owner's hearty 
 by frequently caressing and noticing the noble 
 animal. 
 
 ^^ He is my constant companion and friend/' 
 exclaimed the gendarmes ; ^^ we are never 
 apart, and understand each other perfectly. Do 
 we not, Pepin ? '' he added, stroking the dog as 
 he spoke. 
 
 ^' You are indeed to be envied/' rephed Wil- 
 liam, ^^ and I hope you may be more fortunate 
 than I have been ; for, some time back, I sus- 
 tained an irreparable loss, in just such a friend." 
 (He smiled as he laid a peculiar emphasis on 
 the word.) ^^ He was to me what Pepin is to 
 you ; but I have never seen him since one day 
 -:-I recollect it well — about six weeks ago ; it 
 was on a Thursday — the day after Madame 
 D'Aubry's grand fete, you know, general." 
 
 " And have you never discovered any trace 
 of him ? " inquired the officer, in a tone of 
 sympathy. 
 
 " Yes," replied William, '^ I am sure I saw 
 him once ; but it was in a crowd, and he did 
 not appear to recognise me ; nor did he ever oifer 
 
206 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 to advance towards me ; and yet it must have 
 been Gaston, for there was not such another hi 
 the whole world." 
 
 " That was strange/^ observed De Brissac ; 
 "but perhaps he was too closely watched." 
 
 "Possibly/^ rejoined William; '^^but I cannot 
 express the sorrow and disappointment it caused 
 me. I lost sight of him before I could arrive 
 at the spot ; but I do assure you — " He turned 
 towards the officer, and repeated his assevera- 
 tion, "I would go anywhere, I would take any 
 steps that would afford the slightest chance of 
 recovering him." 
 
 ^^ I remember once," observed Dumont, in a 
 careless tone, " having the same misfortune 
 about a large dog of the Pyrenean breed, which 
 I valued highly. I was in the country at the 
 time, and every inquiry was made, but in vain. 
 Shortly after, I went to Paris, and although 
 several months had elapsed, I had not relin- 
 quished all hopes of recovering the animal, 
 meeting one day with a vender of dogs, I de- 
 scribed my loss, and offered him a large sum, 
 to be paid any day that he would either bring 
 me the dog, or procure some tidings of him. 
 ' I have no doubt, monsieur,^ replied the 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 20/ 
 
 man^ ^ that he is at this moment in Paris. 1 
 have had several of mine stolen, and invariably 
 found them here ; indeed/ added he, laugh- 
 ing heartily at his own joke, ^ if I missed 
 one of my tribe in Grand Cairo, I should feel 
 sure of meeting him the next time I set foot 
 upon the Boulevards.^ To be sure we are many 
 miles from the capital here ; but, according to 
 my friend the dog vender's reasoning, Paris is 
 the receptacle for aU stolen goods.'' 
 
 ^^One thing is certain," replied the officer, 
 laughing, ^^ it wdll give Monsieur 1' Anglais, here, 
 a good excuse for setting off for Paris imme- 
 diately to find his dog, or make his fortune, 
 
 whichever you will, , instead of wasting his 
 
 time here in the provinces ! Poor Pepin, I 
 must contrive to get you safe out of Bordeaux 
 before the rascals catch a glimpse of you." 
 
 He stooped forward to caress his favourite, 
 and William, seizing the opportunity (and se- 
 cure from the scrutiny of the other officer, who 
 was now indulging in a profound nap), darted 
 a look of anxious inquiry on Dumont. A smile 
 of affectionate intelligence played round the 
 prisoner's Ups for one moment, and by the 
 time the officer had recovered his position, 
 
208 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 William's attention was engrossed by the cu- 
 riously-constructed collar which adorned Pepin^s 
 throat. 
 
 ^'l do not intend/^ he said, smiHng, ^^to 
 waste my time, as you are pleased to call it, 
 much longer, monsieur; but, in my way to Eng- 
 land, I shall certainly remain some time in Paris ; 
 for, when last there, I was too young to enter 
 into the merits of your great capital/^ 
 
 The praises showered upon his dog, the ex- 
 cellence of the generaPs claret, and the re- 
 collection of Paris, had a most animating eifect 
 upon the spirits of the young officer. 
 
 He treated the society to an elaborate de- 
 scription of the manners and customs of the 
 French metropolis, intermixed and, as he 
 thought, enlivened by many a scandalous anec- 
 dote ; and then suddenly starting from his seat, 
 he awoke his comrade, by shouting a volley of 
 oaths into his ear. After which, cursing him re- 
 peatedly for his laziness, he begged the governor 
 would give orders for their departure. 
 
 In a few minutes the rumbling wheels of a 
 carriage were heard in the courtyard, and the 
 clattering of horses^ hoofs, which induced Wil- 
 liam to believe that the prisoner was to be 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 209 
 
 conveyed in a coach, guarded by an escort of 
 horse. 
 
 While the two officers were enveloping them- 
 selves in their heavy cloaks, and one ridiculed 
 the other for his slow and sleepy movements, 
 Dumont advanced towards the general, and 
 extended his hand. The old man^s shook in 
 returning the friendly pressure. 
 
 ^'^ God bless you,^^ he said, " may you never 
 regret the Fort du Ha.^^ 
 
 ^^General,^^ said Dumont, with the air of a 
 monarch, who knows that every word will be 
 remembered, ^^ may the recollection of your 
 conduct to me cheer your latest moments .^^ 
 
 Here the gendarmes inquired if the pri- 
 soner were ready, and he replied in the affirma- 
 tive. The general then took leave of his guests, 
 with the hope of seeing them again, and in- 
 quired if he could serve Dumont in any way. 
 
 ^^ No,^' replied the prisoner ; '^ except, indeed, 
 by taking care of the laurel which I planted in 
 the garden.^^ 
 
 Once more he pressed De Brissac's hand; 
 and then, preceded and followed by one of the 
 guards, he left the apartment, but not until he 
 had turned hastily, before his sleepy guardian 
 
210 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 could detect his intention, to cast a glance 
 upon William, that showed how much he 
 grieved at the separation, although prudence 
 forbade him to express it openly. 
 
 The door closed, and, in a few moments, 
 the sound of receding wheels told Clifford that 
 another tie which had bound him to Bordeaux 
 was snapped asunder. 
 
 When they were alone, De Brissac turned 
 to the young Englishman. 
 
 " To you,^^ he said, ^' I commit the care of 
 Dumont's laurel ; there may be more leaves 
 on that tree than we think for.'^ He was silent, 
 as if awaiting an answer, and then continued. 
 ^' I wiU not inquire into your future plans, 
 WilUam, or how far you may be influenced by 
 the hope of seeing Dumont again ; but, believe 
 me, that will be most difficult, for the pro- 
 foundest secrecy is observed regarding his des- 
 tination. One thing, however, I trust, that 
 while you remain in Bordeaux we may often 
 meet, oftener than hitherto. I am sadly 
 changed : I have a horror of solitude, that it is 
 difficult to account for ; unless, indeed, it arises 
 from a dislike to ponder over the gradual decay 
 of my own frame. I have never shunned 
 
THE STATE PRISONEIU 211 
 
 death ; but it is sad to feel every energy of 
 body and mind gradually decrease/^ 
 
 " I will not leave you, unless I am compelled 
 to do so/^ replied William, earnestly ; " it will 
 be a consolation to myself to possess the know- 
 ledge that I can afford you any. Will you make 
 me your prisoner, general, instead of Dumont, 
 until letters, which I am daily expecting, call 
 me away ? 
 
 Charmed by this proposition, De Brissac 
 would not let ChfFord depart until he had pro- 
 mised to return on the morrow, and take up his 
 abode in the fortress, at least for some little time. 
 WilUam found a melancholy pleasure in walk- 
 ing in the little garden, and above all, tending 
 the laurel which Dumont had planted with his 
 own hands. He was actively employed in this 
 service one day, when he fancied that he per- 
 ceived something white protruding from the 
 mould. On examining further, he discovered a 
 paper, and the general's words instantly re- 
 curred to his mind. It bore his own initials, 
 and having divested it as much as possible 
 of the earth, which had worked its way in be- 
 tween the folds, he read as follows : — " Follow 
 me to Paris, and when there, leave no means 
 
212 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 untried to see me. Do not go to England on 
 any account until we have met : strange as it 
 may appear, there is more than a possibihty 
 of my serving you in the object of your ambi- 
 tion. I have no time to repeat my words ; let 
 them weigh in your determination. — Gaston.^' 
 
 Clifford read the note over many times, until 
 he had imprinted every syllable upon his me- 
 mory, and then tore it in a thousand pieces. 
 
 From this time he devoted himseK to a con- 
 stant attendance upon the governor, and ob- 
 served with sincere grief the rapid strides with 
 which death was approaching that excellent old 
 man. Yet, excepting the outward signs of dis- 
 ease and suifering, Louis de Brissac, when in 
 the society of his young friend, appeared the 
 same cheerful, single-hearted being as formerly, 
 with the same disregard for himself, and atten- 
 tion to others. He would urge, nay insist, 
 upon William's leaving him, to mix once more 
 in society ; and when Clifford refused to do so, 
 the general would endeavour to appear angry, 
 until he heard from the young man's lips that 
 Bordeaux had no longer any charms for him, 
 excepting by the fireside of the governor. De 
 Brissac never touched upon the subject of 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 213 
 
 Blanches departure^ for Clifford had never al- 
 luded to it;, and he consequently supposed that 
 all idea of that alliance had been given up. 
 They would sit together^ the old and the young, 
 with their age, appearance, character, and pro- 
 spects, all essentially different, and yet attuned 
 by sentiments of gratitude on one side, and un- 
 feigned affection on the other. For hours toge- 
 ther would William divert the old man with the 
 account of his travels in distant lands, or in 
 compliance with the general's frequent request, 
 sing to him, in that sweet low voice which could 
 find its way to De Brissac's as to Blanch's 
 heart. 
 
 Days lengthened into weeks, and weeks 
 were striding into months, and William, whose 
 every hope was centred on the journey to Paris, 
 since Dumont's mysterious communication, felt 
 that every hour might lower him in Blanch's 
 estimation, and heighten the obstacles between 
 them. He at length received a short and un- 
 satisfactory letter from his uncle, forbidding 
 him, on pain of his lasting displeasure, to men- 
 tion the circumstances of his disgrace to Blanch. 
 Tlie fact of her being a woman was in itself 
 
214 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 sufficient to render such communication dan- 
 gerous ; but above all at this moment, when 
 she was at the court of George the First, to 
 whom her father was devoted. The chevalier 
 enjoined patience : he would think the matter 
 over ; and in the mean time, he recommended 
 change of scene, and a journey to Paris, as the 
 best means of diverting his nepheVs thoughts. 
 Every thing combined to increase William's im- 
 patience to leave Bordeaux, but the increasing 
 iUness of De Brissac chained him to the spot. 
 He could not leave that kind and generous 
 friend to die alone ; no subsequent happi- 
 ness, no future success could ever stifle the 
 remorse which such a step would have entailed. 
 He concealed the difficulty of his position from 
 the general, who, he well knew, would urge his 
 departure, and strove to drown every reflection 
 in the hope of repaying, in some measure, De 
 Brissac's kindness. 
 
 To Madame D'Aubry, whom he now but 
 rarely saw, he enjoined the task of acquainting 
 Blanch with the cause of his detention at Bor- 
 deaux, but she invariably replied, that it was 
 most difficult to do so without mentioning his 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 213 
 
 name, or couching the message in such terms as 
 would excite the suspicion of her parents, who 
 would of course see the letters she received. 
 
 Clifford gathered from this evasive reply, and 
 from the hesitation with which Madame D^Au- 
 bry spoke, that she had neither done, nor did 
 she intend to do his bidding; for in this in- 
 stance fear triumphed over every other feeling. 
 
 Often, when the general was sleeping, WiUiam 
 would sit and ponder over these and other cir- 
 cumstances ; with his eager mind, fretted and 
 chafed by the curb that checked his impatience 
 and compelled him to inaction, until haunted by 
 a thousand doubts and fears, wrought to a climax 
 by the intensity of passion, he would rise from 
 his seat, and pace the room in a state almost of 
 distraction, half resolved to set out for Paris 
 that very moment. But as he paused before 
 the wasted form of De Brissac, and gazed upon 
 those venerable features, where death had al- 
 ready placed his seal, and which, beneath the 
 influence of sleep, scarcely displayed any of the 
 characteristics of life, then the noble heart of 
 WiUiam CUfFord would repel the thought, and 
 expand with nearly filial affection towards that 
 good old man. There were times, indeed, when 
 
216 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 De Brissac appeared so cheerful^ that William 
 almost fancied his health might be restored by 
 care and vigilance ; but he relinquished all hope 
 when^ one evening, the general was seized with 
 sudden and violent delirium. 
 
 Clifford watched by his bedside many long 
 and weary nights, listening to his incoherent and 
 rambling speeches, and regretting the violence 
 which gradually undermined his scanty remains 
 of strength. He raved principally of the late 
 king and Dumont ; promising the former that 
 he would never disclose any secret connected 
 with the latter ; but frequently addressing Wil- 
 liam with an entreaty not to leave him — then 
 suddenly breaking forth into a heartrending 
 lamentation at his absence ; and all this, with 
 his eyes fixed upon that faithful friend, whose 
 attendance was more unremitting than ever. 
 
 It was towards the termination of the sixth 
 night, that, perceiving the general in a calm 
 and profound sleep, such as he had not enjoyed 
 since the commencement of the delirium, Wil- 
 liam yielded to the physician^s entreaties, and, 
 leaving him to watch by the invalid, stole out 
 of the room to seek the repose which he had 
 long denied himself. He slept for several hours, 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 21? 
 
 and was roused about the middle of the day by 
 the entrance of the generaPs physician, who 
 came to announce that De Brissac had awoke, 
 free from dehrium, and insisted upon seeing all 
 the despatches. " He even threatened to rise, 
 which, in his present weak state, would be 
 
 highly improper,^' continued Monsieur L ; 
 
 " but I trust I have dissuaded him from so rash 
 a step. Although I could not succeed with 
 regard to the despatches, we must therefore 
 hope that the communications are trifling and 
 insignificant ; for, believe me, the slightest ex- 
 citement might be fatal. I left him, according 
 to his wish, about an hour ago, and he has just 
 sent me word that he is most anxious to see 
 you, M. Clifford; and I feel sure you will re- 
 member my injunctions, and endeavour to keep 
 his mind as quiet as possible.^^ 
 
 William lost no time in descending to the 
 generaPs apartment, whom, to his surprise and 
 regret, he found sitting up, and dressed in full 
 uniform, while on the table lay a despatch bag 
 and several papers. 
 
 There was a beaming expression on De Bris- 
 sac's countenance, which impressed Chfford 
 with the idea that he had received some pleas- 
 
 VOL. I. li 
 
218 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 ing intelligence. His cheek was flushed^ and 
 his eye bright, although it still bore a wild and 
 haggard look, the trace of recent delirium. He 
 made CliiFord sit beside him, and thus spoke 
 to him cheerfully, though his voice was hollow, 
 and he appeared to articulate with difficulty. 
 
 ^^ How grateful I am,^^ he said, as he pressed 
 William^s hand, "that I have been spared to 
 see this day. Perhaps you heard that a special 
 messenger arrived last night, but you did not 
 know the news he brought me ! " 
 
 The general put a letter into Clifford's hand, 
 which bore the sign and seal of Philip, Duke 
 of Orleans, Regent of France, the purport of 
 which was — though couched in that language 
 of etiquette and ceremony, which requires 
 a whole page to convey the meaning of a 
 simple sentence — that the regent, in look- 
 ing over some papers of his late majest)^, 
 discovered the copy of an official letter 
 among them (bearing the date of a short 
 time previous to the king's death), in 
 which his majesty signified his intention of 
 bestowing the first vacancy of knight grand 
 cross of the royal and military order of St. 
 Louis on General de Brissac, commandant, &c. 
 The regent here copied several words of en- 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 219 
 
 comium from the king^s own letter^ and then 
 proceeded to say, that it had ever been his 
 study to fulfil the slightest injunctions of his 
 lamented sovereign and kinsman, and he would 
 therefore no longer delay pressing upon General 
 De Brissac the acceptance of a vacancy in the 
 order, which had most opportunely occurred. 
 
 While William read the letter, weighing in 
 his mind how far the politic regent's discovery 
 might be influenced by the wish of sealing the 
 veteran^s Hps, and engrossing his latest thoughts, 
 by a gift that could in fact be considered little 
 better than a loan, in the present state of De 
 Brissac's health, the eager-minded general 
 was engaged in a scrutiny of the cross, star, 
 and ribbon, that accompanied the letter. 
 
 ^^ What do you think of that V he inquired, 
 with a smile of honest pride, as Clifford re- 
 turned the precious document. 
 
 " I think,^' replied the other gravely, ^' that it 
 must be a source of real gratification to find 
 that you were remembered in the king's latest 
 moments ; and I trust that this (he pointed to 
 the letter) will prove a more efficient remedy 
 for your present illness than any that have 
 been hitherto administered.'^ 
 l2 
 
220 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 "Yes V' exclaimed De Brissac, eagerly, "yes! 
 ill his latest moments, when the affairs of France, 
 nay, of the world itself, were pressing on his 
 mind, that he should have remembered me or 
 that trifling service, which any Christian would 
 have rendered to another !" 
 
 He paused for a few moments, and then 
 added more seriously, 
 
 " Do you know, William, it appears to me 
 like a message from the tomb, to remind me 
 that 1 should not repine at leaving a world 
 which can no longer boast of possessing Louis 
 the Great. Give me your arm, William, and 
 assist me to cross this ribbon over my right 
 shoulder ; I should scorn an humbler squire on 
 such an occasion.^' 
 
 He rose with difficulty, in spite of ClifFord^s 
 remonstrances, and, leaning on his arm, talked 
 for some time in a half-serious half-jesting 
 mood ; but William observed with concern 
 many visible signs of excitement manifesting 
 themselves in his countenance and deportment. 
 De Brissac then, still leaning on his friend, made 
 him advance into the centre of the apartment, 
 while by degrees his eye again assumed that 
 wildness which had characterized it for several 
 days before. 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 221 
 
 The young Englishman was now seriously 
 alarmed; but his entreaties that the general 
 would compose himself and sit down, were of 
 no eifect, for De Brissac displayed an obstinacy 
 that was unnatural to him. He answered peev- 
 ishly, and then quarrelled with Clifford for 
 having placed the star on the wrong side. 
 
 " I feel perfectly well/^ he continued, ^^ and 
 will no longer remain a prisoner in this dismal 
 room. Will you order our horses, William ? I 
 have long intended to call upon the prefect, and 
 will do so to-day. — You shake your head ! and, I 
 see, suppose me weak enough to wish his majesty 
 benefits known in Bordeaux ! '^ He grasped 
 William^s arm convulsively, and then looked 
 into his face as if he would have read his soul. 
 
 " Did you tell me that the king appeared by 
 night to the Duke of Orleans, with the cross in 
 his hand ? — It is the more sacred, then, for he 
 is in heaven. — Why do you look so sorrowful, 
 WiUiam Clifford ? It was not my fault that Du- 
 mont was taken away from us. — Holy Virgin ! 
 are you a coward to stand there so still when 
 the king's horse lies dead beneath him ? Mother 
 of Heaven ! another moment^ and Louis had 
 been no more.'^ 
 
 ^^For God's sake, general," exclaimed Clif- 
 
222 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 ford^ in a voice trembling with grief and anxiety, 
 •^ be calm. Let me assist you to your bed, and 
 call Monsieur L into the room.^^ 
 
 ^'^ No, no,^^ cried De Brissac, impatiently ; 
 ^^ no more physicians for me. It is you who 
 protract my recovery by talking in this manner. 
 — I am quite well — quite strong now, and you 
 wish to confine me to that horrid place where I 
 have raved like a madman. No physicians for 
 me ! Call no one ; but if you are tired of this 
 dull life, leave me ! I can stand without your 
 assistance.^' 
 
 As he spoke he endeavoured to advance a 
 few steps, but staggered back, and again sub- 
 mitted to Clifford's support. He grew, however, 
 more vehement in his language, more changed 
 in his appearance, till at last, tearing the cross 
 from the ribbon, he pressed it eagerly to his 
 lips. '^ See !" he cried, " that is the image of 
 Saint Louis, but there are two saints now of 
 that name in the kingdom of heaven, and one 
 beckons me to him. Blessed mother of God, 
 give me entrance there !" He crossed his arms 
 upon his breast and half-closed his eyes, while 
 an expression of devotional calm reposed for a 
 few seconds upon his pallid countenance ; then 
 opening his eyes he stared wildly around, and 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 223 
 
 raising his arm^ as if in the act of leading on 
 his troops, he shouted, " God and Saint Denis \" 
 in a loud and almost unearthly tone, that made 
 William shudder and avert his head. As he did 
 so, he felt De Brissac weigh heavily upon him, 
 so heavily, that, unprepared as he was, Clifford 
 sank upon one knee, and received the dying 
 form of the old soldier in his arms. The head 
 rested on his shoulder, the lips moved, and the 
 agitated young man stooped forward to catch 
 the last accents of his friend, and with deep 
 emotion heard his own name faintly murmured. 
 One struggle, one hollow rattling sound in the 
 throat, and the soul of De Brissac was gone to 
 its last account ! 
 
 William had seen death, but he had never 
 before watched the departure of one he loved ; 
 and as he gazed on the emaciated, though still 
 noble form, that lay senseless at his feet, and 
 felt in vain for the beating of that loyal heart, 
 which could beat no longer, he bent earnestly 
 over the senseless form ; and, when he again 
 raised his head, the cold, inanimate features of 
 the corpse, were bathed in tears, such as man- 
 hood need not blush to own. 
 
224 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 William CliiFord was in Paris; that Paris 
 which for so many months had formed the 
 theme of his soUtary musings. Long and often 
 had he dwelt upon the prospect of his arrival 
 there^ until by degrees he had accustomed himself 
 to the belief, that at Paris every difficulty would 
 be overcome and his destiny assume a fairer 
 aspect. So vague and uncertain indeed was the 
 future which lay before him^ that William might 
 be excused for grasping at the slightest hope 
 which bore a tangible form, even though that 
 hope were founded on so slight a basis as the 
 words of a captive. 
 
 Yet as he entered the large city, then 
 plunged in all the dissipation for which the 
 regency was remarkable, he felt his hopes 
 recede with every step he took. The noise, the 
 traffic, and turmoil of the streets ; the swarms 
 of inhabitants of every class and description. 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 225 
 
 each intent on their individual errand; the 
 multipHcity of vehicles^ the confused murmur 
 of tongues^ the coarse joke^ and the shrill 
 laugh^ interrupted by the cry of the itinerant 
 tradesman : — all these, and many other charac- 
 teristics of a vast and populous city, had the 
 effect of depressing Clifford's spirits ; and has- 
 tening towards the appointed hotel, he panted 
 for the silence of his own apartment, and the 
 freedom of his own thoughts. 
 
 The last year of his life had been passed in 
 the comparatively small town of Bordeaux, 
 where, owing to the accidental meeting witli 
 De Brissac, he had never been considered as a 
 perfect stranger. The general's acquaintance 
 became his ; every society was open to the 
 friend of the commandant; and there, in 
 course of time, he had contracted those ties of 
 love and friendship which, while they bound 
 him to Blanch and Dumont, endeared the scene 
 of so much happiness. 
 
 The heart that has long been accustomed to 
 the sweet dependence of affection, shrinks with- 
 in itself amid the loneliness of a crowd ! 
 
 Clifford was at this moment impressed with 
 a melancholy which he had never experienced 
 l3 
 
226 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 before; and all the objects round him forced 
 upon his mind the reflection that^ alone in the 
 world of Paris, without a single acquaintance or 
 connexion^ it would be madness to dream of 
 effecting an entrance into any of the state 
 prisons, even supposing he could discover into 
 which Dumont had been thrown. 
 
 The young man meditated on the path he 
 was to pursue ; and while inclination led him to 
 shun the splendid society of Paris, mature re- 
 flection urged an entirely opposite course. He 
 must frequent the court, become known to the 
 principal inhabitants of the city, and, avoiding 
 carefully every thing that was calculated to 
 arouse suspicion, he must gradually league him- 
 self with those who were capable of serving 
 him in the affair of Dumont, while the possi- 
 bility of meeting the Duke de P frequently 
 
 recurred to his mind. 
 
 The will of De Brissac, which, according to 
 the old man^s desire, had been opened in his 
 dear son^s presence (for by that name had he 
 ft'cquently addressed him during his last ill- 
 ness), constituted Cliftbrd executor, and sole 
 heir of all his property, both landed and per- 
 sonal; for the general had taken proper mea- 
 sures to remove all legal difticulties relating to 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 227 
 
 the succession of an alien. The total amount 
 (although not very considerable if regarded as a 
 fortune)^ combined with his former pittance^ 
 was wealth to Clifford. He installed the two 
 old servants of his benefactor in the Chateau de 
 Brissac, demanding no other service from them 
 than the care of the house ; and then, unen- 
 cumbered by any expense attending an esta- 
 blishment, he found himself comparatively a 
 rich man. 
 
 Clifford, though he despised the petty mean- 
 ness which actuates the mass of human nature, 
 was too wise not to turn it to advantage when 
 compelled to come in contact with selfish and 
 timeserving spirits. He was well aware, that 
 the arrival of an humble individual with a 
 scanty retinue would pass utterly unnoticed, but 
 that the proprietor of the inn would gladly 
 spread the report that he had the honour of 
 entertaining a distinguished guest. 
 
 Chfford having arrived at the unpleasant 
 conclusion that he had a part to play during 
 his sojourn at Paris, determined to enter upon 
 the role immediately, the first scene of which 
 was to be acted with his landlord. He there- 
 fore summoned the person in question, and, 
 with a pomp that was foreign to his nature, and 
 
228 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 which he scorned in secret^ the young English- 
 man announced to his admiring host, that, on 
 the following morning, he should require a suite 
 of apartments more spacious and commodious. 
 Then, with a condescension which flattered the 
 man^s self-love, Clifford consulted him on the 
 choice of a coachmaker, and required his 
 assistance in procuring a suitable retinue of 
 servants. After which, he made some casual 
 inquiries relative 'to the hour at which the 
 regent generally granted his audiences, and 
 then, as mine host himself described it, " he 
 dismissed me with a gracious expression of 
 satisfaction.^^ 
 
 The stratagem succeeded admirably. The 
 landlord left his guest's presence duly im- 
 pressed with a sense of his dignity, and that 
 very night it was known in most quarters of 
 Paris that a foreigner of distinction had arrived 
 upon a diplomatic mission, and taken up his 
 abode at the Chevalier de Malte. 
 
 Shortly afterwards Chfford demanded an 
 audience of the regent, for the purpose of re- 
 storing to his highness the insignia of the 
 general's order. 
 
 The Duke of Orleans received him most 
 graciously, and Chfford fancied he could detect 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 229 
 
 a smile of triumph at the success of his plan 
 (for as such William had always considered the 
 sudden and wonderful discovery of the late 
 king's letter). With the truly royal predilec- 
 tion for interrogatory^ the regent questioned 
 William closely about the general, and the 
 system he exercised in the Fort du Ha. But 
 William answered his highness in an easy, un- 
 embarrassed manner, and, perfectly aware that 
 his inquiries pointed to Dumont, mentioned him 
 carelessly in conjunction with the mass of pri- 
 soners, and without specifying his name. When 
 the inquisitive prince thought fit to touch upon 
 Clifford's own concerns, the latter stifled the 
 rising spirit of resentment, and explained to his 
 highness, that, ha^dng been detained at Bor- 
 deaux, on his road to Paris, the society proved 
 so attractive, and General de Brissac so kind, 
 that he prolonged his stay until the death of 
 that worthy veteran, who crowned his former 
 acts of friendship by leaving him heir to all his 
 possessions. 
 
 The goodhumoured prince was delighted by 
 the young Englishman's manner and address, 
 and though he at first appeared resolved on 
 inquiring further into the cause of De Brissac's 
 generosity, and was anxious to know if Wil- 
 
230 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 liam often frequented the fortress ; yet the re- 
 plies he received were so well managed^ that his 
 highness soon turned the conversation on other 
 subjects. He conversed for some time in En- 
 glish^ called William^ jestingly^ the Baron de 
 Brissac (a title he might claim in right of his 
 small terre)^ commanded his frequent presence 
 at the palace^ and even invited him to his owii 
 private entertainments. The interview had been 
 most satisfactory in every way ; William de- 
 scended the stairs^ and as he stepped into his 
 new coach to return home^ attended by several 
 servants in gaudy liveries^ more than one fair 
 face peered from the windows of the palace — 
 perhaps to catch a glimpse of Le bel Anglais. 
 
 Clifford,, however^ purposely allowed some 
 time to elapse without seeking society^ occasion- 
 ally submitting to the interchange of formal 
 civility with those courtiers whom the regent 
 deputed to do the honours of Paris^ and show 
 him all that was interesting and difficult of 
 access to strangers. But at length growing im- 
 patient, WilUam threw himself upon his horse 
 one morning at an early hour, and rode, un- 
 attended, in the direction of Versailles, to me- 
 ditate upon his future plans. The day was line, 
 the sun shone brightly upon the palace and 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 231 
 
 gardens^ and William, after placing his horse in 
 safety, entered the royal grounds. 
 
 The palace of Versailles is too well known to 
 need any description here. It had for many 
 years served as a residence to Louis the Four- 
 teenth; but on his demise the regent judged 
 it best to place the young king immediately 
 under his own eye, and the youthful monarch 
 was accordingly established in the Tuileries. 
 WiUiam wandered through the long green 
 alleys, and paced up and down the sunny 
 terraces without meeting another human being, 
 a circumstance which was the more agreeable 
 to him at that moment, inasmuch as it per- 
 mitted him to indulge for some time without 
 interruption in a long and luxurious revery. 
 He was startled, however, at length, by feeling 
 a hand placed upon his shoulder, and hearing 
 himself addressed in a familar voice. He turned 
 round and beheld Roland Stanley, whose coun- 
 tenance expressed such unfeigned pleasure at 
 the meeting, that WilUam, in returning the 
 friendly greeting, felt his heart warm towards 
 the associate of his happy days. 
 
 "I knew it was you,^^ exclaimed Stanley, 
 '^ though I had no idea of your arrival in these 
 parts. But as I ran my eye down the terrace. 
 
232 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 and saw a solitary man in a pensive attitude^, I 
 said to myself, there stands William Clifford ; 
 and right glad am I to see you, even though 
 you may wish me as many miles oiF as you did 
 when we last met at Bordeaux. But do tell me 
 what has brought you here; for, when I left 
 that good city, you were in close attendance 
 upon our old friend the general.^^ 
 
 Clifford related in brief terms the death and 
 generosity of the governor, and his own inten- 
 tion of remaining some time in Paris, an intel- 
 ligence which afforded Stanley sincere pleasure. 
 Drawing William^s arm within his own, he 
 conversed for some time upon Bordeaux, in a 
 manner that was most grateful to his compa- 
 nion, delicately avoiding, however, any pointed 
 allusion to Blanch. Then changing the subject 
 of conversation, he commenced a catalogue of 
 the court beauties and gallants, their qualities 
 and peculiarities, with a vivacity that displayed 
 to the best advantage his knowledge of men 
 and manners, while Clifford hstened with atten- 
 tion to information that might be valuable. At 
 length interrupting the speaker in an animated 
 description of the dowager Duchess of Orleans, 
 he directed his attention to the end of one of 
 those long green alleys in which the gardens of 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 233 
 
 Versailles abound, inquiring, " Who is that in 
 so curious a costume ? Even at this distance 
 there is something remarkable in her air/' 
 
 " Right, right ! ^' replied Stanley, laughing ; 
 '' I applaud your discrimination, and will en- 
 deavour to make you acquainted with her be- 
 fore I expose you to the dangers of a presenta- 
 tion. That fair object at the end of the Allee 
 verte, is the fascinating Mirabel; the original, 
 the witty, the beautiful Baronne de Bernay. 
 She is an orphan, who appeared at court when 
 very young, as maid of honour to Madame 
 d'Orleans, where she speedily excited the envy 
 of her own sex, and the admiration of ours : 
 but fabled adamant is soft in comparison to the 
 relentless heart of the fair Mirabel. ^ Belle et 
 criielle,' 'La charmante Moqueuse^ ^ V Admira- 
 ble^ are among the many epithets by which 
 she is known. Half Paris, headed by the 
 regent, languish at her feet; and while she 
 disdairTs none of those little arts of coquetry 
 which she exercises in a manner all her own, 
 the obdurate beauty rejoices in the pangs of her 
 victim, aggravates his mortification by playful 
 raillery, and at the same time confesses her 
 intention of extending her conquests. I am 
 told that she is a female Crichton, succeeding 
 
234 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 in every thing she attempts ; and as far as con- 
 versation goes, I can vouch for her superiority 
 whenever she chooses to exert it. The dress 
 you have remarked, is adapted to the exercise 
 of horsemanship, in which she excels, display- 
 ing a fearlessness of spirit that would put many 
 of his majesty's body-guard to shame. ^^ They 
 tell an anecdote, and I believe a true one, which 
 is not a little characteristic. On the even- 
 ing of a day during which she had given some 
 striking proof of her courage, the regent being 
 informed of the circumstance, thought fit to 
 express his admiration in animated terms, and 
 was repulsed with more than usual disdain. 
 The Duchess of Orleans happening to saunter 
 up to the spot, and remarking the unusual gra- 
 vity of her royal consort, looked first at him, and 
 then at her maid of honour, and inquired care- 
 lessly, if they had been arranging the affairs of the 
 state. ' Yes madame,^ exclaimed the regent, in 
 a tone of evident mortification ; ' I hav'e been 
 pressing the office of generalissimo of the forces 
 on the Baronne de Bernay: it is a post for 
 which she is admirably qualified; as neither 
 timidity nor humanity would ever deter her 
 from extending the conquests of France, or 
 malving an example of its enemies.' — ' I am 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 233 
 
 sensible of the honour your highness intends 
 me/ repUed Mirabel, with mock gravity, curt- 
 seying profoundly at the same time ; ^ but I 
 would rather prosecute the campaign of Paris, 
 where my conquests are more to be depended 
 upon, and where I daily experience the tri- 
 umph of revenging myself on my own indi- 
 vidual enemies/ She has many strange fancies,^^ 
 continued Stanley, " and amongst others, that 
 of attiring herself in every possible variety 
 of costume; one evening the sultana^s turban 
 decks her hair, while on the next, the short 
 robe of the Spaniard displays her unrivalled 
 foot and ankle. But I am not sufficiently 
 versed in these matters to give you an adequate 
 account of the caprices of her toilet. Yet, if I 
 may so express myself, there is a consistency 
 even in her inconsistency ; an all-prevailing 
 variety in dress, mood, appearance and manner : 
 nor does it follow because to-day she is merry 
 and talkative, that the next time you meet her 
 she mil be the same. I hope, Clifford," added 
 Stanley, as he hastily concluded his long de- 
 scription, " that by inflaming your curiosity, I 
 have not excited you to attempt a useless siege 
 upon the heart of the merciless Mirabel." 
 
236 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 William shook his head — " Hush^ hush ! '^ he 
 exclaimed ; ^^ she approaches^ and will overhear 
 you/^ As he spoke^ the baronne advanced, 
 and he had an opportunity of seeing her more 
 distinctly. 
 
 Mirabel de Bernay was considerably below 
 the usual height: her limbs small, but beauti- 
 fully formed ; and as she moved forward with 
 an elastic step, her figure assumed a character 
 of childish grace, that was counterbalanced by 
 its full and rounded sympathy. Her hair, glossy 
 black, but soft and silken as the flaxen locks of 
 a Rowena, was plaited in one long tress behind, 
 while the breeze, and the exercise she had taken, 
 had disordered the somewhat formal arrange- 
 ment of the front, which escaping from beneath 
 a velvet hat (duly looped and plumed), hung 
 round her face in negligence not unbecoming. 
 The complexion of Mirabel was of that rich 
 clear brown which she inherited from a Spanish 
 mother, while the bright blue eye, the small fair 
 hand, and taper ankle, bespoke her alliance vnth 
 the aristocracy of the north. She wore a long 
 and amj)le robe of white satin, which she how- 
 ever gathered up with one hand, in such a man- 
 ner as enabled her to walk with freedom, and 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 237 
 
 at the same time to display the small white 
 shoe, with its appendage of red heel and dia- 
 mond buckle. A Joseph (or closely fitting coat) 
 of green velvet, richly laced, with gold buttons, 
 an embroidered waistcoat, with cravat and 
 ruffles of point lace, and a broad scarlet sash 
 completed her costume. In her hand she held 
 a small whip, with which she occasionally ex- 
 erted a gentle authority over a large greyhound 
 that accompanied her ; and at a respectful dis- 
 tance lingered a female attendant, and two 
 grooms in livery. 
 
 ^'^ Ha, Mr. Stanley ! '' exclaimed the lively 
 beauty, after that gentleman had gone through 
 the ceremony of presenting his friend ; " I 
 should never have suspected you of such ma- 
 tutinal propensities : why our good citizens of 
 Paris are but just awake. Alack ! I know not 
 where a poor damsel hke myself can hope for 
 sohtude, if it is not to be found at this hour in 
 the shades of deserted Versailles. ^^ 
 
 ^' I would do my best, madam,^^ said Stan- 
 ley, bowing low as lie spoke, ^*^to deter you 
 from indulging in a taste for solitude that would 
 deprive society of its greatest charm, and the 
 court of its brightest ornament.^' 
 
238 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 ^^ I had been taught to beheve^ sir^'^ said 
 Mirabel^ gaily^, turning to ChfFord^ " that En- 
 glishmen never succeeded in the comphmentar}" 
 mien ; but your countryman is anxious to prove 
 that the air of Paris has had a beneficial eiFect 
 upon his gallantry." 
 
 William felt at this moment in the predica- 
 ment of a person who finds himself unexpect- 
 edly called upon to reply in an unfamihar lan- 
 guage^ and he was truly grateful when Stanley 
 came to his aid. 
 
 "Nay^ madam/^ he said^ ^^that is but a feeble 
 acknowledgment of the service of one whose 
 highest glory consists in declaring himself the 
 humblest and most devoted of your slaves." 
 
 The baronne laughed : '^ You never told me 
 this before/^ she said ; ^' but to-day I will add 
 you to my fist. I have a curious chaplet^ which 
 serves me to tell my beads on; a heterogeneous 
 string of all the hearts which have owned my 
 power — and I do not know/^ she added archly, 
 putting her finger on her lip, " I do not know 
 why the heart of a staunch Jacobite should not 
 figure among those of prince, peer, and prelate." 
 
 Thus saying, she moved forward with a slight 
 inclination of the head ; but as she did so, her 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 239 
 
 riding-whip fell at Clifford's feet. He raised it 
 from the ground. Mirabel bent forward to re- 
 ceive it^ and casting a glance on William^ in 
 which all the fire and brilliancy of her eye were 
 subdued into a glance very different from that 
 which she had bestowed on his companion^ she 
 bowed her thanks to him individually^ and once 
 more saluting the two companions, passed on. 
 
 ^^ That was a glance/' exclaimed Stanley, 
 when they were again alone, ^'^for which his 
 highness would wellnigh have bartered his vice- 
 royally, and for which the little Comte de 
 Salins would have solicited the permission of 
 running his small sword through your body." 
 
 ^^ It is a pity," replied William, drily, " that 
 such a gift should have been wasted on one 
 totally incapable of appreciating its value. By 
 Heavens ! Stanley, this specimen of rigid virtue 
 impresses me with a due respect for the manners 
 of the fair Parisians." 
 
 " When you speak of the crowd," answered 
 Stanley, with more seriousness than before, ^^ I 
 will confess to you that nothing can be more 
 degraded ; but your judgment of Mirabel de 
 Bernay has been too hasty. Her character, 
 though faulty in the extreme, has many noble 
 
240 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 points, believe me. And when you consider 
 the situation in which she is placed, and the ex- 
 amples by which she is surrounded, you will 
 surely find something to admire. Besides, 
 Clifford,'^ he added, with studied but emphatic 
 gravity, " it were hopeless to look elsewhere for 
 that virtue and excellence which are, perhaps, 
 only to be found in one solitary and brilliant 
 instance." 
 
 William understood, nor was he ungrateful 
 for, the allusion; and as they mounted their 
 horses at the same time, he begged Stanley 
 would accompany him to the Chevalier de 
 Malte, and partake of the dinner that would 
 be prepared. As they rode slowly forward, 
 the fair amazon overtook them at full speed, 
 managing her fiery horse with a dexterit)' 
 that elicited William^s admiration, even while 
 he condemned her eagerness to display her 
 skill. 
 
 That night Blanch rose before him in all her 
 native dignity more vividly than she had ever 
 appeared before, in those visions that were 
 sanctified by her presence. 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 241 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 The regent had formed a very favourable 
 opinion of Clifford during the audience which 
 he had granted to him. There was some- 
 thing in the young foreigner's manner and con- 
 versation which greatly struck the Duke of 
 Orleans ; the more so, as they were essentially 
 diiferent from those of his own courtiers. An 
 easy, open, and unembarrassed address, tem- 
 pered by courtesy and respect; a firmness in 
 asserting his own opinions, while he avoided 
 contradicting those of the duke, unless im- 
 mediately referred to him ; combined with a po- 
 lished, though lively demeanour, were strangely 
 contrasted with the fawning adulation, and the 
 unbecoming familiarity, which characterized the 
 two distinct classes of the regent's associates. 
 
 His highness condescended to present Chf- 
 
 VOL. 1. M 
 
242 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 ford himself to the various members of the royal 
 family^ who all received him well^ and were 
 graciously pleased to signify their pleasure at 
 seeing him frequently at the palace. 
 
 The young duchess, whose indolence was pro- 
 verbial, and who, in consequence of her early 
 education, had little taste for the duties of a 
 public life, often allowed weeks to elapse 
 without leaving her own apartments ; but 
 the duchess-dowager, who loved ceremony, 
 invariably presided at the receptions. This 
 princess honoured William with her particular 
 notice, and appeared to derive much pleasure 
 from his conversation. She was an eccentric 
 woman, plain in person and violent in temper, 
 but gifted with a shrewdness of observation, 
 and a fluency of language, that rendered her an 
 agreeable and rational companion. There ex- 
 isted but Uttle sympathy between herself and 
 her daughter-in-law ; but she entertained a sin- 
 cere affection for the regent, though his be- 
 ha\dour but too frequently incurred her censure. 
 She, however, as well as the whole court, was 
 now busy in preparing for the marriage of her 
 youngest grand-daughter. Mademoiselle de Va- 
 lois. That unfortunate and erring princess, in 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 243 
 
 the violence of her grief for the imprisonment 
 of the Duke de Richeheu^ who had imphcated 
 himself in the Alberoni conspiracy, could no 
 longer conceal the passion she entertained for 
 that unprincipled man. 
 
 The regent, who had long and vainly pressed 
 his daughter's acceptance of the Prince of 
 Modena, now infprmed her that an immediate 
 consent to this marriage was the only price at 
 which her lover^s freedom and safety could be 
 purchased. Such was the princess's infatuation 
 for a man, who had repaid her affection by 
 plotting against the life of her father, that she 
 consented to the dreadful sacrifice; and festivities 
 were already preparing to celebrate this in- 
 auspicious union. 
 
 Having made this necessary digression, we 
 will return to Cliiford, who now became more 
 frequent in his attendance upon the court, where 
 the marked kindness of the royal family at- 
 tracted the attention of others to its object; and 
 the favour which he soon acquired with the 
 duchess-dowager increased the notice of the 
 ladies of the court in particular. They had been, 
 from the first, struck by the beauty of his per- 
 son, and the magnificence which he displayed in 
 M 2 
 
244 THE STATE PRISONER, 
 
 his dress^ equipage^ and retinue ; while attention 
 once drawn towards him was soon changed into 
 admiration^ by the grace of his manners and the 
 freshness of his mind. There were no timid 
 reserves in that hbertine court. By degrees it 
 became a fashion to talk of, to extol the hand- 
 some young Englishman, to repeat his senti- 
 ments, to dispute his preference, until, at length, 
 Clifford found himself an object of undisguised 
 admiration, and his contemptuous indifference, 
 by piquing their vanity, only rendered the con- 
 quest more desirable to the fair but unscrupulous 
 dames of Paris. 
 
 It appeared to them, indeed, incomprehensible 
 how his heart could resist the artillery of glances, 
 and the battery of sweet speeches by which he 
 was daily assailed ; incomprehensible to all but 
 such as knew that Blanch's image was the pal- 
 ladium which ensured the safety of the citadel. 
 
 Mirabel de Bernay's demeanour (according to 
 Stanley's description) was totally different from 
 that of any other person. She made no secret 
 of preferring Clifford's society, and would often 
 tell him that his conversation appeared a relief 
 after the empty and frivolous discourse to 
 which she usuallv listened. 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 245 
 
 The regent laughed when he saw them to- 
 gether^ and cautioned the young Enghsliman 
 against the snare ; while MirabePs rivals looked 
 on in silent astonishment. The men^ for the 
 most part^ disliked Clifford ; nor could this be 
 wondered at^ their envy was excited by that 
 sort of success which he neither courted nor 
 valued ; their anger was roused at his steady 
 refusal to join in any of those excesses which 
 then formed the reproach of Paris ; and, above 
 all, their self-love could ill brook the superiority 
 to which they themselves could not be blind. 
 The generality, in consequence, avoided a con- 
 tact that would redound to their disadvantage ; 
 while some affected to despise the virtue, and 
 ridicule the excellence which they could not 
 attain. 
 
 There was, however, a manly dignity in Clif- 
 ford that exacted courtesy, in the payment of 
 which no one had yet failed. The Comte de 
 Salins indeed (the baronne's diminutive suitor), 
 regarded Clifford mth a jealous eye, and an- 
 xiously sought an opportunity of quarrelling, 
 while William as carefully avoided an encounter 
 where the odds must be so fearful against his 
 dwarfish antagonist. 
 
246 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 By some of the elder courtiers William was 
 much liked ; and he occasionally encountered a 
 follower of the De Brissac school_, who by his 
 dress and manner reminded him forcibly of that 
 good old man. 
 
 Days and weeks however rolled over his head, 
 and he became restless and uneasy ; Paris 
 grew irksome to him, an unwilling witness of 
 scenes which he detested ; he found himself no 
 nearer his object than on his first arrival, and 
 besran to fear that he had made this sacrifice 
 in vain. He was now convinced that his only 
 chance of success, would be to plunge headlong 
 in that torrent of intrigue and cabal, the mere 
 sight of whose passing stream, was an object of 
 disgust to him. 
 
 Nor had he one friend or counsellor in whom 
 he could confide, not even Stanley, although 
 his frequent companion. William was glad to 
 secure an associate, whose conduct and con- 
 versation were regulated by some regard to 
 propriety ; yet the consolation that his country- 
 man afforded was counteracted by unceasing 
 attempts to entangle ChfFord in his schemes. 
 Often would the eager Jacobite intrude his 
 political confidence, in a manner most unpleas- 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 247 
 
 ing to his companion^ who had not studied 
 Roland Stanley^s character in vain. Wilham 
 did not doubt the sincerity of his friendship^ 
 but he was well aware that every other con- 
 sideration gave way before the ^^ Cause.^^ Nor 
 was it improbable that Stanley might strive to 
 aggravate the first difficulty in which William 
 might be placed in order to gain him over to the 
 Stuart party^ well knowing that external circum- 
 stances, in many instances, can bring about the 
 same changes of conduct as inward conviction. 
 
 Such was the state of our young Englishman's 
 domestic and social affairs, when he received an 
 invitation, in due form, to the masquerade and 
 banquet, to be held at the Palais Royale, being 
 the first of a succession of entertainments, given 
 on the occasion of Mademoiselle de Valois's 
 marriage. 
 
 Who shall tell, as William arrayed himself 
 once more in his troubadour's costume, what 
 thrilling and tender recollections the sight of 
 that dress inspired ? He placed the withered 
 rose in his cap, slung his cithern upon his arm, 
 and suspended the gold medallion from the 
 chain which Blanch had given him. 
 
 His heart never had "wandered from its 
 
248 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 allegiance ;^^ but it now beat with more loyalty 
 than ever towards its lovely monarch. On his 
 table lay a profusion of small scented billets, 
 whose fair writers were anxious, by no very ob- 
 scure hints, to inform M. Cliiford of the disguises 
 they would individually assume for the evening. 
 
 With a smile of derision he swept them from 
 the table into the fire ; and as they consumed 
 before his eyes, he raised Blanches miniature 
 to his lips, and, concealing it in his bosom, took 
 his way to the palace. 
 
 The exterior arrangements had been made 
 with so much judgment, that there was little 
 difficulty in entering ; and Clifford found him- 
 self speedily in the long gallery of the Palais 
 Royale. 
 
 The coup d'ail was indeed magnificent; an 
 interminable suite of apartments, the style of 
 whose splendid furniture was so renowned, as 
 to form a new epoch in the calendar of taste, 
 and be handed down for imitation to the pre- 
 sent day, was illuminated with admirable va- 
 riety. The saloons appropriated for dancing 
 were dazzling with myriads of candelabras ; 
 while the room set apart for music and con- 
 versation was hung with lamps, which shed a 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 249 
 
 soft and delicate light over its costly hangings of 
 silk and velvet. 
 
 Here and there small and verdant bowers were 
 constructed, with diminutive lamps of every 
 colour (like the magic fruit of Aladdin), contain- 
 ing mossy seats, that invited to repose. But 
 the greatest novelty consisted in the Jardin des 
 Plantes, where a large and irregularly-shaped 
 apartment was laid out in parterres and walks, 
 with natural flowers and shrubs, in a manner 
 that excited universal approbation. A small jet 
 d'eau ornamented the centre, and formed a thou- 
 sand little rainbows as it danced and sparkled 
 in the light. Several urns and statues were dis- 
 tributed with taste, while the flowers, that by 
 some singular deception appeared to flourish in 
 the borders, had lost none of their fragrance, but 
 attracted many persons by their sweetness from 
 the distance of two or three rooms. 
 
 Clifford, after taking a hasty survey, recol- 
 lected that it was incumbent upon him to seek 
 the presence-chamber, where the royal family 
 stood unmasked to receive their guests. This 
 etiquette was to be observed for a short time, 
 and then the regent, and all those who enjoyed 
 M 3 
 
250 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 the diversion of masking, were to retire and 
 disguise themselves. 
 
 As ChfFord entered he had leisure to remark 
 the royal circle. The young duchess, whose 
 ungraceful figure was not improved by a negli- 
 gent carriage, was magnificently attired, but her 
 cheeks were flaming with paint, which made 
 Mademoiselle de Valois^s paleness appear more 
 striking. That unhappy young woman stood 
 by her mother's side, decorated with the jewels, 
 and wearing the portrait, presented by her future 
 bridegroom, who was already an object of hatred 
 to her. Pale as ashes, her eyes swollen with weep- 
 ing, she looked upon the scene before her as the 
 condemned criminal on the preparations for his 
 death ; while few of those who profited by the 
 entertainment bestowed one thought upon the 
 poor victim, whose sacrifice procured them a 
 night of pleasure and diversion. 
 
 But William gazed with compassion upon the 
 young creature who had so early fallen a prey to 
 the allurements of vice, and was now about to 
 stand before the altar of God, and pledge that 
 heart to one man which was wholly possessed 
 by another ! lie looked at the relations who 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 251 
 
 Surrounded her ; but her mother's affections 
 were all centred in self, and the regent (though 
 merciful by nature) had set his mind too long 
 upon this marriage, to listen to any scruples at 
 the moment his object was attained ; while 
 the dowager, who had once loved her grand- 
 daughter, refused to exert any influence in 
 behalf of one, who had forfeited all claim to her 
 esteem. By the side of the Duchess of Orleans 
 stood Mirabel de Bernay, her eye wandering 
 eagerly over the arriving guests, and occasion- 
 ally whispering her royal mistress, as if anxious 
 for permission to join the motley crew. There 
 was an archness in her eye, a suppressed merri- 
 ment in her whole expression, which seemed to 
 imply that she already anticipated a world of 
 amusement. 
 
 The scene, the society, though all essentially 
 different, nevertheless recalled the evening at the 
 Hotel D'Aubry to Clifford's mind, and Stanley, 
 who joined him soon after for a few moments, 
 knew in what direction his thoughts were 
 traveUing. 
 
 But the spirit of masking was here better un- 
 derstood and sustained, and AVilliam was asto- 
 nished at the rapidity with which new dresses 
 
252 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 and new characters were assumed by the same 
 person. He was soon in the midst of various 
 groups of maskers: now a gorgeous sultana 
 thrust her fan of peacock's feathers before 
 his eyes ; now an airy sylph invited him to join 
 in the measured dance, or a pensive shep- 
 herdess tendered him a seat in her bower. 
 
 But in proportion as the rest of the world 
 increased in animation and vivacit}^, William 
 became more and more dejected. It was in 
 vain that he attempted to rally his fallen spirits; 
 that he determined to be amused wdth the 
 prattle of the masks, and to admire the splen- 
 dour and variety of the scene. The recollec- 
 tion of Blanch, her unartificial beauty, her 
 modest graces, and feminine deportment, 
 contrasted so strongly with the ladies of 
 Philip's court by whom he was now surround- 
 ed, that it only brought her more vividly before 
 him. William leaned against a column, and 
 gave himself up to silent reflection. 
 
 Nor can many situations be more painful than 
 that in which the merriment that we witness only 
 helps to augment our individual melancholy; 
 when the jest and laugh, in which we refuse to 
 join, grate hke discord on the ear, and when that 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 253 
 
 fancy, which has no sympathy with the present, 
 steals sadly away on the backward path of 
 retrospection. Thus the young mariner, when 
 gazing upon the waves of a troubled and stormy 
 sea, clings fondly to the recollection of his 
 mother's home, and the sheltered seclusion of 
 his native valley ; and turns his eyes fondly over 
 the waves in the direction, where last he saw 
 the far and fading shores of his own dear land. 
 
254 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Clifford had almost determined upon re- 
 tiring, when he was startled hy a slight stroke 
 upon his arm, attended with a jingling sound. 
 He turned hastily, and beheld a mask in the 
 characteristic garb of foUy, wearing the cap and 
 beUs, and well-known motley. He at first paid 
 but little attention to this singular apparition, 
 but was at last drawn on to speak by the lively 
 raillery of the mask. 
 
 '^'^May I inquire,'^ he said, smiling faintly, 
 " what happy chance has brought you in this 
 direction ? '^ 
 
 " Nay, gentle troubadour,^^ replied the mask, 
 " that is but a simple question, though one easy 
 to resolve. — Hast thou yet to learn that this 
 good city of Paris is under my especial protec- 
 tion, and that my ancient crony, the Regent, 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 255 
 
 is but a puppet in the hands of Folly. As re- 
 gards state affairs, indeed, I find him self- 
 willed and perverse ; but once let him leave the 
 council-chamber, and he is all mine own. Men 
 call him fickle and inconstant, but such has he 
 never proved to me.^' 
 
 '^ But,^^ said Clifford, ^^ if your influence be 
 so great, and your connexions so high, allow 
 me to express my surprise that so humble an 
 individual as myself should have attracted your 
 notice.'^ 
 
 '^ There again,^^ replied the mask, '^^ you both 
 display your ignorance, and prove yourself my 
 proselyte. It is my distinguishing attribute to 
 shower favours upon the most deserving, with- 
 out regard to rank or distinction. In this, our 
 friend, the Duke of Orleans, whom I merely 
 quoted as an example of the most devoted of 
 my followers, emulates my example. * Mais 
 parlez de rdne, et vuus verrez ses oreilles,'' says 
 the old proverb. Ha, ha ! my friend Philipon ! 
 what not one kind word for your old favourite. 
 Folly, with one of my fairest disciples on either 
 arm?^^ 
 
 His highness, if such it were (for William^s 
 unpractised eye could not have detected him 
 
256 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 in a group of three dominos who passed), nodded 
 his head and laughed, though he hurried on lest 
 the bystanders should benefit by the discovery. 
 
 " Well/^ continued Clifford, who was some- 
 what diverted by this incident, ^'^you were 
 about to explain to me, most potent Folly — " 
 
 " That is easily done : — this is a night such 
 as I have not seen for many a month ; a night 
 in which I walk abroad in gala robes — and here 
 is the handsomest troubadour in the kingdom, 
 the target for soft glances and balmy sighs, 
 leaning like a wobegone Cory don against a 
 marble pillar, when he should be leading the 
 dance, or whispering sweet speeches to the 
 fairest of France's daughters. Think of my 
 satisfaction when one single act thus ensures 
 me a convert where I least hoped for such. 
 And yet my doctrines propagate! and good- 
 ness knows, I have enough to do, vAtX\ the 
 German dowager's nationality, the Duchess of 
 Orleans's indolence. Mademoiselle de Valois's 
 marriage, Mirabel de Bernay's caprices, and 
 John Law's ascendancy — or, to strike more 
 home, gentle troubadour — with Roland Stan- 
 ley's politics, and William Clifford's insensibi- 
 lity ! " Here the mask gave a side glance at a 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 257 
 
 domino, who had for some time past been ho- 
 vering near them. " And last and least, ^v^th 
 the little Comte de SaUns^s valour: — do you 
 know, sir troubadour, his diminutive sword 
 leaps so often from its scabbard, and is so quick- 
 ly resheathed, that one day I mistook it for 
 the needle it so much resembles in size, and 
 petitioned for the pattern of the embroidery ! " 
 
 Here the newly-arrived domino shrugged his 
 shoulders, with evident signs of impatience, 
 and whispered something in the speaker^s ear, 
 which elicited a most scornful laugh. 
 
 ^^ Now, on my word,^' continued Folly, '^ that 
 were high treason, not to be said aloud ; a 
 speech, noble minstrel, so undeniably absurd, 
 so exquisitely foolish, that Folly's self might 
 have envied every word.'' 
 
 The vivacity of the mask attracted the notice 
 of a passing company ; one of whom, raising his 
 eyes to Clifford's headgear, asked, laughingly, 
 what his badge denoted. 
 
 "A zealous Jacobite," replied his companion. 
 
 " Nay, rather one who knows how to bear 
 their withered fortunes," said another. 
 
 " Je vous le dirai!'' exclaimed a third. 
 
258 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 '^ C'est line jleur blanche dont le souvenir au 
 mains, iiefane pas !" 
 
 William raised his head eagerly^ but the 
 human scene was already shifted ; while his 
 anxiety had not escaped the notice of Folly, 
 who exclaimed, 
 
 ^^ Well pointed ! that had more effect than 
 any random shots of mine/^ 
 
 " And yet/^ observed William, ^^ the Baronne 
 de Bernay could scarcely be suspected of miss- 
 ing her aim, whether directed against the head 
 or the -heart of any man/^ 
 
 " You know me, then ! '^ exclaimed Mirabel, 
 unmasking. '^ I trusted too much to your in- 
 experience in these matters ; for, believe me, I 
 am an adept in disguise ; but give me your arm, 
 Pierre Vidal, or Robert Wace, or whatever 
 else you would be called. And now that you 
 are tired of folly, listen to reason ; but not here, 
 let us walk in the garden, which is cool and 
 refreshing after this stifling corridor." 
 
 They entered the room which was untenanted, 
 and, seating themselves upon a rustic bench, 
 Mirabel thus began : 
 
 "It may appear abrupt and ill-timed if, after 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 259 
 
 SO much jesting, I suddenly speak on a serious 
 and important concern, but this is an oppor- 
 tunity which must not be lost. Your manner 
 towards me, Mr. Clifford, is so distant and 
 cautious, that I have sometimes reason to sus- 
 pect the regent, of having poisoned your mind, 
 by representing me as politic and heartless as 
 himseK ; but this shall not deter me from acting 
 the part of a friend, and I only request, for 
 your own sake, that you will consider me in 
 that light. You are young, perhaps unused to 
 courts, at least to the court of Paris, and, 
 God be praised, there are few others hke it. 
 Despite the regent^s courtesy he regards you 
 with a jealous eye ; I do not mean to tell you 
 that he is an hypocrite, for hypocrisy was one 
 of the only vices that nature denied at his 
 birth ; but, since your first interview, he has 
 received information which leads him to con- 
 sider you as a dangerous personage. Mark my 
 words ; all your movements are watched, your 
 proceedings known, your associates, nay, your 
 conversation reported!" 
 
 '^ You indeed surprise me," said William. 
 ^^ I know not what information his highness 
 
260 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 could have received that is any way connected 
 with me." 
 
 " Nay/' repKed the baronne^ '^ you do not 
 repay my candour ; but I forgive you for class- 
 ing Mirabel de Bernay with the rest of the 
 world. Yet you must be aware that your 
 friendship with an acknowledged partisan of 
 the Stuarts would in itself expose you to sus- 
 picion^ now that considerations of policy have 
 separated their interests from those of France." 
 
 " If that were all/^ rejoined WiUiam^ not a 
 little relieved ; " and if, as you say^ I am so nar- 
 rowly watched^ one conversation between the 
 person in question and myself would suffice to 
 remove every shade of suspicion." 
 
 ^^ But that is not all/' insisted Mirabel; "the 
 suspicions relate to some circumstances con- 
 nected with Bordeaux. But hush ! hush ! some 
 one approaches, and that domino examines us 
 so minutely, he must have an errand to one or 
 the other." 
 
 As she spoke, a tall figure, dressed in a long 
 and ample domino (which completely shrouded 
 his form), with one knot of scarlet ribbon on 
 the hood, advanced ; he walked round and 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 261 
 
 round the garden and then stopped, as if de- 
 sirous of being observed. 
 
 WilUam felt, he knew not why, that the mask 
 was an object of interest to him, and he followed 
 every movement with his eyes. Mirabel, who 
 believed he might be an important messenger, 
 rose, and standing by the fountain, dipped her 
 hand playfully in the water ; thus affording the 
 domino an opportunity of speaking to either 
 herself or William. The figure walked hurriedly 
 up to the latter, and whispered in his ear : 
 '' Tell Gaston he Hves in Albert's heart f then, 
 without awaiting an answer, disappeared. 
 
 William's heart beat, while the hope that 
 crossed his mind was in itself a joy. He forgot 
 the presence of his companion — he forgot aU 
 but the possibility of that hope being realized ; 
 and, rising from his seat, he followed the mask 
 hastily. 
 
 Mirabel de Bernay turned and found herself 
 alone, abandoned by that man in whose safety 
 she had taken the deepest interest — the only 
 man for whom her heart had ever beat ! 
 
 It was a first bitter lesson of disappointment. 
 A thousand new and galling emotions rushed 
 upon her mind ; her proud heart swelled be- 
 
262 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 neath a sense of degradation, and the few tears 
 that trickled down her flushed cheeks were still 
 scalding as they fell upon her beautiful bosom. 
 She dashed them away, stamping her small foot 
 with a violence of which it appeared incapable, 
 while, as if to crown the distress of her situa- 
 tion, the regent put his head into the room. 
 
 He was by her side in a moment. '^ How," 
 he cried, with an insolence of manner that was 
 not unusual to him, ^^ my dainty Folly, hast thou 
 so soon disgusted yon handsome troubadour by 
 thy strange caprices ?" 
 
 Mirabel did not deign the duke an answer ; 
 but, looking at him as if she expected he must 
 wither under the power of her eye, suddenly 
 extricated herself from his rude grasp, and 
 darted out of the room before he could detain 
 her. 
 
 As for William, he had no trouble in finding 
 the mysterious mask, who was lingering in the 
 hope of being followed. No sooner did Clifford 
 appear, with a countenance expressive of anxiety, 
 than the domino made a sign to him to be silent ; 
 while, taking his arm hastily, he mixed (to Wil- 
 liam^s surprise) in the thickest part of the crowd, 
 where they walked up and down for some time 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 263 
 
 without speaking. But this proved only a Wind, 
 for he soon after verged off in another direction, 
 and, choosing the first room that was vacant, he 
 halted, and let go his hold of William^s arm. 
 
 ^'^ For God's sake,^' exclaimed Clifford, who 
 could not restrain his impatience, ^^ keep me in 
 suspense no longer ! Tell me who and what you 
 are, and how you became acquainted with the 
 words you just now uttered.^' 
 
 He scanned the stranger from head to foot, 
 and for a few moments his excited hope wound 
 itself up into the belief that Dumont stood 
 ])efore him. 
 
 " I fancied those words would make me 
 known to you in a moment,'' replied the mask, 
 in a voice that destroyed William's fabric of 
 unwarrantable expectations in a moment. 
 
 Hope, suddenly excited, is often so overween- 
 ing in her expectations that William, who had 
 so long and so earnestly wished for a meeting 
 with the Duke de P , now experienced dis- 
 appointment, because he had chosen to believe 
 that Dumont, the state prisoner, could be within 
 the walls of the Palais Roy ale. A moment's 
 reflection, however, made him grateful for this 
 opportunity, and he therefore continued : " I 
 
264 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 know you now, monseigneur, though I despaired 
 of ever seeing you again ; but, since we have 
 met, let me entreat you to give me some in- 
 formation on a subject of mutual interest.'^ 
 
 " Your arrival has long been known to me," 
 replied the duke ; ^^ but I go little into society, 
 and a visit to your house might compromise 
 both of us. Paris is peopled with spies, and I, 
 at least, am marked ! How much longer do 
 you remain in this city ? " 
 
 " I know not," said William, impatiently ; 
 " all depends upon my success. It rests with 
 you to tell me where he is, and how I can see 
 him. I do not ask for warnings or advice. 
 Nothing shall deter me from the attempt, 
 which has hitherto been delayed only because 
 I was perfectly ignorant of the place of his 
 concealment.^^ 
 
 " We are observed," said the duke, " bending 
 forward, and speaking as if he believed the wax 
 tapers were spies of the government; "take 
 my arm : let us walk together for a short time, 
 and then separate : any abruptness will attract 
 notice." 
 
 ^'^ You think meanly of me," he said, as they 
 entered the corridor : " were you as familiar 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 265 
 
 with captivity as myself^ you would perhaps 
 beUeve, that the man who never shunned danger 
 in battle^ may shrink at the bare mention of 
 captivity. I would rather ascend the scaffold^' 
 (he added firmly) '^ than enter the Bastille I" 
 
 '^\ can believe it/^ rejoined William ; "but 
 we part not thus. Name any hour, any spot, 
 where we may meet. You must not, you can- 
 not refuse me ; although I have not leisure to 
 urge the matter fully, believe me when I assert, 
 that I have the weightiest motives for desiring 
 an interview with Dumont, both on his account 
 and my own." 
 
 "Your eagerness ^vill be remarked," said the 
 duke ; " contri\^ to meet me to-morrow, on the 
 road to Meudon, on the steps of the large stone 
 cross of St. Etienne, about three o'clock in the 
 afternoon ; I will then tell you where, and how, 
 if you still persist in your rash undertaking. 
 Now let go my arm quietly ; I cannot help fan- 
 cying that tall domino has been following us for 
 some time." 
 
 " And if he have," said William fearlessly, 
 " our conversation was in so low a tone, that I 
 myself found it difficult to hear a word : and 
 surely in this scene of liberty, two masks may 
 
 VOL. I. N 
 
266 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 bear each other company for one quarter of an 
 hour. Well, I am going; au revoir, * Noeud 
 Rouge!''' 
 
 With a hghtened heart, William threaded his 
 way through the crowd towards the principal 
 staircase, when his conscience suddenly smote 
 him for want of courtesy towards Mirabel. He 
 had left her perfectly alone, in an abrupt and 
 rude manner; and that, too, at the moment 
 she was warning him of danger. He could 
 not, it was true, explain how strong had been 
 the temptation, nor could he confess his inten- 
 tion of disregarding her advice : still he could 
 own his fault, and entreat her pardon for such 
 a breach of gallantry, and with this purpose he 
 sought her every where. 
 
 His search, however, proved fruitless : Folly 
 had disappeared (though her influence was at its 
 meridian), and in no other disguise could WiUiam 
 detect the fairy form of the baronne. He 
 regretted the circumstance, but his mind was 
 set upon other things, and the morro^v^s ap- 
 pointment engrossed his thoughts. 
 
 The sudden appearance of the duke; their 
 short, but interesting discourse, and speedy 
 parting, had all occupied so brief a space of 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 26? 
 
 time, that William felt bewildered. What hour 
 did the duke say? he asked of himseK; but 
 receiving no satisfactory answer, he continued, 
 ^^Fool that I am, to have forgotten that. I 
 know not where he lives, and dare not inquire ; 
 as to meeting him again in this crowd, that is 
 perfectly hopeless.'^ But, lo ! as he thus 
 thought, he turned, and to his unspeakable 
 satisfaction, perceived the well-known ^^ Noeud 
 Rouge '' a few yards in the rear. 
 
 " Pardon my forgetfulness,^' whispered Clif- 
 ford ; " must I be at the Croix de St. Etienne 
 at three or four to-morrow evening ? '^ 
 
 The mask pointed to the number of the peo- 
 ple who surrounded them; then raising his 
 hand cautiously, placed four fingers upon Chf- 
 ford^s arm, and was rapidly lost in the crowd, 
 while William returned home full of hope and 
 expectation. 
 
 n2 
 
268 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 The clock of a neighbouring church had just 
 tolled four. The sun^ who had been sparing of 
 his rays during the course of the day, now shot 
 forth a few brilliant gleams, as he sank beneath 
 the horizon, like the dying miser, who would 
 fain obliterate the recollection of past avarice 
 by some splendid deed of charit}^ upon his 
 deathbed ; and a single horseman, enveloped in 
 a military cloak and large hat, a la Louis Qua- 
 torze, turned the corner of one of the small 
 avenues which led into the carrefour of St. 
 Etienne, at that period one of the most unfre- 
 quented spots in the immediate vicinity of 
 Paris. He reined in his horse, whose hoofs 
 clattered loudly on the pavement, and raising 
 himself in the stirrups, looked anxiously in the 
 direction of the stone cross. 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 269 
 
 William Clifford, for he it was, was not a 
 little disconcerted, in discovering by one glance, 
 that the only person who sat upon the steps 
 was not the duke; nor was he any way con- 
 soled, by perceiving that the black hood and 
 flowing robes were those of a female kneeling, 
 as if in prayer. Still he advanced, surmising 
 that it might prove some faithful emissary, 
 whom that cautious nobleman had intrusted 
 with an errand in which he feared to show him- 
 self ; and indeed, upon reflection, William ap- 
 proved the policy by which the duke had been 
 actuated. The woman^s presence would give a 
 false colouring to the aff"air, and such meetings 
 were then too frequent to excite either curiosity 
 or suspicion. William therefore passed slowly 
 before the cross ; and as he did so, he lifted his 
 hat, and saluted the mysterious figure. 
 
 " You are somewhat tardy ! '^ she said, in a 
 low and cautious tone ; " the duke named three 
 o^clock for the rendezvous.^^ 
 
 "No," replied William, leaping from his 
 horse, and fastening the bridle to an iron ring 
 on the opposite side of the cross ; " No ! by this 
 token, that he laid his four fingers on my right 
 arm, with so friendly a pressure, that I believe 
 
270 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 the marks are there now to vouch for my truth 
 and punctuahty/^ 
 
 Here he kneeled by the side of the unknown^ 
 expecting her to begin the conversation ; but 
 as she remained silent, he inquired where the 
 nobleman, whom she had first mentioned, now 
 was. 
 
 " On his road to the Bastille ! '' cried Mirabel 
 de Bemay, throwing back the hood, and dis- 
 playing to her astonished companion a counte- 
 nance beaming with all the fierce animation of 
 gratified revenge ; " on his road to the Bastille, 
 where one word from my lips will send you to 
 bear him company ! ^^ 
 
 William stood as if thunderstruck; and it 
 was several moments before his astonishment 
 could form itself into words. " How you have 
 possessed yourself of my secret, madam,^^ he 
 exclaimed at last^ ^^ and for what purpose you 
 exercise such unprovoked cruelty, I am at a 
 loss to imagine." 
 
 " Indeed !" rejoined Mirabel, ^^ indeed ! are 
 you so innocent ? — did you then believe me so 
 contemptible as to pass over in humble patience 
 the unmanly insult that you ofi:ered me last 
 night — did you suppose, because I stooped 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 271 
 
 to evince my preference for one whom I now 
 detest — did you^ I ask^ suppose that Mirabel 
 de Bernay was to be insulted with impunit)" — 
 treated like a handmaid — left alone — alone^ in 
 the centre of a court, where hundreds would 
 have gloried in her lightest look — at the mo- 
 ment too when she was endangering her own 
 safety by providing for yours ? — Holy Virgin ! 
 The recollection is madness ! But I am re- 
 venged : the snare was set, and the victim fell 
 an easy prey. I caused you, sir, to be fol- 
 lowed by one, who in dress and stature re- 
 sembled him for whom I was abandoned. He 
 played his part bravely: the duke stood on this 
 spot one hour ago, and instead of the eager and 
 confiding Clifford, he found some more punc- 
 tual ministers of justice, who even now conduct 
 him on the road that traitors do not love.^^ 
 
 Mirabel paused, for she was breathless, and 
 then added, in a tone of bitter railler}^, ^^ He 
 bade me greet you well : he goes to answer the 
 question, before it be put to you.^^ 
 
 William heard her in silence, and at first, a 
 faint and scornful smile appeared to intimate 
 that he doubted the truth of her narrative ; but 
 the unhesitating tone, and the precision with 
 
272 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 which she related the facts^ soon convinced him 
 of her sincerity. 
 
 It required all the noble generosity of Wil- 
 liam^s nature to suppress even in a degree^ the 
 indignation that swelled within him. Ere he 
 replied^ he gazed at Mirabel from head to foot^ 
 as if to remind him that the consideration of 
 her weakness should ever soften the wrath of 
 man towards woman^ even w^hen her conduct 
 provokes him to forget that she is aught but an 
 enemy. 
 
 " If, madam/^ he replied at lengthy in a cold, 
 stern tone, " you thus j^ervert the power of 
 which you boast, how can you hope for the es- 
 teem of your own sex, or the respect of ours ? 
 You have made use of a vile stratagem to pro- 
 cure the downfal of a man who never injured 
 you, and you have taken an ungenerous advan- 
 tage of my incapacity to chastise the author of 
 so hateful an action. Had a man acted as you 
 have done this day, his conduct had not been 
 half so base, for at least he must have abided 
 the consequences, from which you are well 
 aware that the privileges of your sex effectually 
 shield you." 
 
 He bent his eye so sternly on Mirabel, that 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 273 
 
 her own fell beneath it ; and yet she an- 
 swered, 
 
 " Do you speak to me thus ? to me who have 
 your life in my hands ; who possess power of 
 which you little dream, and at whose desire the 
 portals of the Bastille will open as readily as the 
 gates of my own chateau ? One word from 
 these lips ; one signal — ay, at this very mo- 
 ment — and, vain man, you are immured for life 
 within those wretched walls — ay, — perhaps torn 
 and mangled on the wheel ! Do you not fear 
 me now?^^ she cried, once more lifting her 
 flashing eyes upon him. 
 
 " I will not deny it,^' replied William, with 
 all the bitterness of scorn ; " for the lion may 
 fear the viper, whose venom he despises, even 
 while smarting from the ignoble wound ! " 
 
 The just anger which the baronne^s conduct 
 had excited, invested ChfFord^s form and fea- 
 tures with more than usual dignity ; and as he 
 stood before her with his arms folded on his 
 breast, as if in defiance of her menaces, Mira- 
 bePs countenance bespoke but too plainly that 
 there was a struggle within. The vengeful 
 fierceness that had at first appeared there gra- 
 dually fled, and over her speaking features came 
 N 3 
 
274 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 every various shade of impassioned grief. The 
 eagle eye of WiUiam Chfford was still fixed in 
 one cold and reproachful glance upon her. It 
 subdued her utterly! but she read in it less 
 scorn than grief. She pressed her hands against 
 her forehead : she tore her long black hair ; and 
 clasping her hands^ exclaimed with bitter tears^ 
 '^O, pardon me, pity me, humbled, wretched 
 creature that I am ! — I hoped that revenge 
 would bring some consolation to a heart that 
 is worked almost to frenzy ! You are safe," 
 she continued ; " safe as the blessed saints when 
 they descend on earth, and walk among the 
 sons of men. It was but idle boasting of my 
 power, for may the holy Virgin be my witness, 
 that Mirabel would rather die than cause one 
 hair of your head to fall ! Oh, yes — yes, I 
 spoke of prison and of torture ; but would 
 rather endure them both myself! I see you 
 hate me — and I dare to tell you that I love 
 you — love you with a passion — a madness — of 
 which no other woman is capable ! I who have 
 never loved before ! — I who never believed in 
 the existence of one human being, that could 
 excite such feelings in my breast — I who 
 have laughed and mocked the wretchedn ess of 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 275 
 
 others ! The years that I have passed at court 
 have been one uninterrupted course of admir- 
 ation and success ; and now the first and only 
 object of a passion^ which I dare call as pure 
 as it is strongs shuns^ abandons, and slights me ! 
 In that dreadful moment when you proved 
 that my words, even when treating of your own 
 safety, were all empty and indiiferent to you : 
 when I found myself alone — exposed to the 
 insults of the detested PhiHp of Orleans — oh, 
 then the blood of my mother^s ancestry rose 
 within me, and I vowed, that as you would not 
 love, you should have cause to hate me. I 
 vainly hoped that love became extinct, when 
 revenge took possession of my heart. — You 
 turn from me,^^ she said, laying her hand upon 
 Clifford's arm; ^^the duke—'' 
 
 " Do not," replied William, sharply, shaking 
 off her hand as if it had been some noxious rep- 
 tile, as the mention of the duke's name re- 
 awakened the indignation which had been 
 somewhat pacified by the sight of her grief; 
 " do not lower yourself any further in my es- 
 teem by such an unnecessary humiliation. 
 Madam, the heart of him you speak to, in life 
 and death, is devoted to another. You say that 
 
276 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 your love is pure as it is strong ; might I 
 suggest — ^' 
 
 She suffered him not to conclude. Her 
 cheeks, which shame had dyed with its deepest 
 crimson, now became suddenly and fearfully 
 white : the blood forsook her very lips, and she 
 grasped the pedestal of the cross for support. 
 '^ Do not say so ! " she exclaimed, with a com- 
 posure that appeared frightful when contrasted 
 with the emotion she had before displayed ; 
 " do not say you love another." 
 
 " And why should I not say so ?" demanded 
 Clifford, stimulated by the remembrance of 
 Blanch ; '^ and why are you not rather grateful 
 for one more opportunity of revenge ? My 
 death, or even my imprisonment, would bring 
 down misery, on two attached hearts. Surelv 
 that were a triumph worthy your determined 
 nature ; and why should I not glory in my love 
 for one, whose gentle and retiring modesty 
 needed no contrast to enhance its value ? 
 
 '^ Spare me, for the love of heaven !" cried 
 Mirabel, " for my reason will not bear it 
 longer;" and as she spoke, she clasped her 
 hands together, uttered a faint cry, and fell 
 senseless at his feet. 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. Zti 
 
 William was now alarmed; he looked round, 
 but there was not a human being in sight; but 
 he perceived an Abreuvoir at the corner of the 
 alley, and unknotting his sash, plunged it 
 into the water. Returning hastily, he stooped 
 down, and placing MirabeFs head upon his 
 knee, bathed her forehead, and chafed her 
 stone-cold hands between his own, with all the 
 care and tenderness of a brother. He now 
 blamed himseK for having used harsh and un- 
 feeling words, although the reflection of the 
 duke, whose despair he well knew would be un- 
 bounded, still mingled a large share of resent- 
 ment with the compassion which the sight of 
 the unhappy Mirabel excited as she lay so still 
 and deathlike before him, that WiUiam could 
 hardly persuade himself she lived. He bent 
 earnestly over her face, and listened with pain- 
 ful anxiety for her breathing. It came at last, 
 short and convulsive ; by degrees she opened 
 her eyes languidly, but as they met his she 
 closed them again, while the returning blood 
 slightly tinged her cheek. 
 
 " Are you recovering ?" inquired WiUiam, 
 watching with sincere commiseration the 
 struggles of reviving nature. Tlie convulsive 
 
278 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 heaving of her bosom was evident through its 
 covering, while her features were frequently, 
 though slightly, contracted. 
 
 '^You are better now/^ he continued, in the 
 tone of a parent addressing a suffering child ; 
 '' can you not speak to me }'' 
 
 Mirabel once more opened her eyes ; she 
 raised her head with difficulty, and pushing 
 back the hair which fell over her face, sup- 
 ported herself with one hand, so as to sit nearly 
 upright. She looked timidly at William, and 
 for a moment something like a smile played 
 round her mouth. 
 
 '' I am happy now,'^ she said ; '^ this moment 
 repays me for all; may you be blest for that 
 one kind look, for those few kind words ! They 
 will remain deeply engraven on my heart.^' 
 
 " You have suffered much, I fear ! " ex- 
 claimed Clifford, forgetting every other feeling 
 in compassion and interest. 
 
 " Yes,^^ she replied, pressing her hand upon 
 her brow. " I suffer now, but do not regret it ; 
 the moment in which I awoke, and saw you 
 bending so kindly over me, was the most 
 blessed of my life. Nay, do not frown again ! 
 It only showed that you pitied me. I ask no 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 279 
 
 more ! " she added^ hurriedly^ " I ask no more ! 
 but I think I could die to see that look 
 again /^ 
 
 ^' The damps of night are falhng/^ said CUf- 
 ford^ " let me entreat you to throw my cloak 
 around you^ and let me conduct you home ; 
 you are ill^ and this cold night may be fatal." 
 
 " Thank you/^ she replied^ at the same time 
 throwing on her hood^ " I will go^ but you 
 must not accompany me. My coach is waiting 
 not far off, and I must find it alone. I have 
 much to thank you for, sir/' she added, ^^and 
 a little to forgive : — I thank you for that too, 
 for it leaves me not so entirely wrong." She 
 then rose and strove to walk, but found herself 
 unable to do so without the assistance of her 
 companion. 
 
 "Wrap yourself in your cloak," she said, 
 " and draw your hat over your face, and, for 
 my sake, let me entreat you not to utter one 
 word in the hearing of my ser\^ants." 
 
 Chfford obeyed, and as they traversed the 
 place slowly, Mirabel once more addressed 
 him, though in a different tone from that which 
 she had just been using. 
 
 " By all you hold dear in this world and the 
 
280 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 next^ do not refuse my prayer/' she said: "come 
 to my house to-morrow, in the forenoon. I 
 will see you before my duty calls me to the 
 palace/' 
 
 " I too have a request to make/' replied 
 Clifford; '"The duke's instant release ! " 
 
 " He shall sleep in his own palace this very 
 night/' she answered. 
 
 As Mirabel spoke, they turned into the alley, 
 where her coach was waiting, immediately 
 under the lamp of the church ; she raised her 
 voice as high as she could, desiring the coach- 
 man to come to the spot where she stood, which 
 was in shade ; and Clifford supported her into 
 
 the carriage. 
 
 " All revoir, M. le Marquis," she cried aloud, 
 " the Duchess of Orleans shall be informed of 
 the prompt execution of her wishes; and her 
 royal highness will, I have no doubt, thank you 
 in person." 
 
 The coach drove on, and as William turned 
 away, he heard a horse trotting down the alley, 
 so as inevitably to meet the carriage. He would 
 not look back, however, but only quickened his 
 pace, and returned to the cross of St. Etienne. 
 
 After looking, during an instant, for his scarf, 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 281 
 
 which he could not find^ he mounted his steed 
 hastily, but had not proceeded far upon the 
 Paris road, when he found himself followed, 
 or rather pursued. He slackened his pace, the 
 other horseman did the same; he galloped, 
 and his example was imitated. At length, en- 
 raged by such a proceeding, he checked his 
 horse suddenly, and found himself riding abreast 
 with the stranger. 
 
 "Who is it," he demanded, "that has the 
 insolence to track my steps in this manner ? '' 
 
 " My dear Clifford!" exclaimed Roland Stan- 
 ley, "somehow or other I always contrive to 
 recognise you ; and in this instance I trusted to 
 your somewhat warm temperament to inquire 
 into my pursuit, and now I trust to your friend- 
 ship to pardon my little scheme for escaping a 
 soHtary ride home." 
 
 " I do not consider it an act of friendship, 
 sir," replied Clifford, " to play the spy upon 
 all my actions, and intrude at all times upon 
 my soUtude." 
 
 " Nay, Clifford,^^ said his companion, putting 
 spurs to his horse, "if you are determined to 
 quarrel with me, I will fly the danger that I 
 do not blush to fear : but old friends and new 
 
282 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 loves do not well agree together, and to some 
 dispositions novelty must ever be a recom- 
 mendation/^ 
 
 He spoke with more acrimony than William 
 had believed him capable of, and galloped for- 
 ward, leaving his countryman to digest his 
 words at leisure. 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 283 
 
 CHAPTER XVIL 
 
 We would now pass at once to the morning 
 subsequent to the incidents just related^ and 
 introduce the reader into the boudoir of a hotel 
 in the vicinity of the palace, having an especial 
 reason for taking a hasty survey of the same. 
 Our reason is, that there almost invariably exists 
 some analogy between the character of a room 
 and that of its habitual inmate, and we always 
 feel better acquainted with the one when we 
 have seen the other. 
 
 The general appearance and colouring of the 
 apartment in question was subdued; it was 
 hung with velvet draperies, of a deep dull crim- 
 son, and wainscoted with black oak. The 
 casements, the furniture, and the ornaments, 
 were all pure Gothic, a style which was at 
 
284 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 variance with the more gorgeous taste of that 
 day. A few pictures reheved the sombre hue 
 of the walls ; a glowing Titian^ a delicate Co- 
 reggio^ with several fine portraits of distin- 
 guished characters, and two from the pencil of 
 modern artists, one of which was a small full 
 length of a lady in a Spanish costume, but the 
 other, which was the size of life, occupied the 
 principal place on the walls, and was a painting 
 of great merit. It represented a youth of re- 
 markable beauty, whose resemblance to the 
 baronne was most striking, and led many to 
 believe the portrait hers, while the hasty in 
 judgment often availed themselves of this op- 
 portunity to animadvert upon Mirabel's bold 
 vanity in assuming a disguise that was be- 
 coming only in one acceptation of the word. 
 
 The most remarkable point, however, in the 
 arrangement of the apartment was that atten- 
 tion to the harmony of trifles which it displayed, 
 and which is often forgotten in the magnificence 
 of greater objects : the locks, the hinges of the 
 doors, the loops which confined the curtains, 
 and the curiously-wrought fire-dogs were all in 
 themselves worthy of notice. 
 
 These minor beauties, though often escaping 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 285 
 
 notice^ added imperceptibly to the general effect, 
 which was calm, subdued, and harmonious. 
 Suffice it to say, it was a spot to think, nay, to 
 dream in. There was an air of perpetual twi- 
 light that seemed fraught with poetry, and 
 accorded more A\'ith the actual than the usual 
 appearance of its possessor. 
 
 Mirabel de Bernay was seated exactly oppo- 
 site, though at some distance from the window, 
 so that the light fell immediately on her face. 
 The unusual paleness, the heavy eye and droop- 
 ing lid, plainly told that the past night had been 
 a yigil of sorrow. At her feet slumbered a large 
 greyhound, who was frequently roused by his 
 lady's starting from her revery, as often as the 
 wheels of a carriage or the hoofs of a horse 
 sounded along the street. At last, however, 
 without any such preliminary, the folding doors 
 were thrown open, and William Chfford entered. 
 There was gravity even to sternness in his de- 
 portment as he advanced, and greeting Mirabel 
 with the profoundest respect^ took the seat to 
 which she motioned him. He did not speak, but 
 there was a loftiness in his manner, combined 
 with an expression of pity on his countenance, 
 which made his visit resemble that of a merciful 
 
286 THE STxVTE PRISONER. 
 
 judge. Nor did the baronne^s appearance de- 
 stroy the similarity. On his entrance the blood 
 rushed into her cheeks with the same rapidity 
 and violence as on the preceding evening, and 
 as quickly disappeared, leaving her paler than 
 before. There was hesitation, and an embar- 
 rassment in her manner, that was the more dis- 
 tressing from its novelty, and her first attempts 
 to speak were unsuccessful. Her voice trem- 
 bled as she at length began, while her eyes were 
 fixed on the dog, who, having been rebuked for 
 growling at the stranger, was now making his 
 peace with his mistress. 
 
 " This is very kind,'^ she said ; " I began to 
 fear you would not come, and I am most anxi- 
 ous to inform you that the duke is at liberty. 
 He is also aware that his release, and not his 
 imprisonment, is owing to your interference, 
 and though he declines any further communi- 
 cation, I am empowered to assure you of his 
 good wishes and esteem.^' 
 
 '^ But, madam,'^ replied WiUiam, " are you 
 aware that this distressing circumstance de- 
 prives me of a long-cherished hope on which 
 may depend the happiness or misery of my 
 future life ? '' 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 287 
 
 Mirabel looked as if she would deprecate his 
 reproaches. ^^ I will endeavour to persuade 
 him to see you again/^ she said, "but fear it 
 will be in vain.^^ 
 
 William bowed, and there was a pause that 
 appeared centuries to Mirabel. She raised her 
 eyes languidly, and gazed on her companion, 
 with an expression that appealed to all the 
 kindly feelings of his soul. 
 
 "^Do not,^^ she exclaimed, "maintain that 
 cruel silence any longer ! The bitter words of 
 anger and reproof which you addressed to me 
 yesterday, were not so terrible as this frigid 
 ceremony. If you could read my thoughts ; if 
 you could see how changed I am — how bruised 
 and broken in spirit — you would not bend your 
 eye so sternly on me. You can never know 
 the deep anguish of being despised. . I am less 
 blameable than I seem ; but, alas I I feel that 
 every w^ord I utter is liable to misconception ! 
 Let me entreat you to teU me, if I speak in 
 vain ; if my words pass for nothing ; or worse 
 than that, if you believe them dictated by un- 
 worthy motives.'^ 
 
 " On the contrary,^^ repUed WiUiam, " since 
 
288 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 we first became acquainted, I have always ad- 
 mired and done justice to your candour." 
 
 A smile that had something very bitter in 
 its expression, appeared upon the baronne^s 
 countenance, as she continued: "Of my candour 
 indeed, you have had no insignificant proof. 
 Unwooed I have loved ; unasked I have con- 
 fessed that love : my sorrow is only equalled by 
 my shame ; yet, except in one instance, for 
 which instant reparation was made, surely I 
 have erred more against myseK than you. But 
 extenuation is not my object. I fear lest my 
 speaking weary you, and dare not proceed while 
 you afford me so little encouragement.^' 
 
 " I have before assured you, madam," replied 
 William, "that your words have all due weight 
 with me. I am sensible of having been be- 
 trayed into unbecoming violence, both of lan- 
 guage and manner ; but my temper is hasty, 
 and the provocation was not slight. Let me 
 entreat you to proceed, and be assured that I 
 listen with attention and interest." 
 
 " I was about," said the baronne, encouraged 
 by the mildness of his tone, " to give you some 
 account of my early life and education, trusting 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 289 
 
 that it might form some excuse in your eyes 
 for the conduct of one^ whose childhood and 
 youth were equally neglected. 
 
 '^^My father, who was an eminent soldier, 
 serv-ed with the army in Spain, and on his re- 
 turn from that country, was accompanied by a 
 young bride, the daughter of a Castilian noble, 
 who was said to have cursed his child for mar- 
 rying a foreigner, and an enemy. Some time 
 after their establishment in France, the baronne 
 gave birth to twins, and in the same year her 
 husband died. She was a kind and indulgent, 
 but injudicious mother : she loved my brother 
 and myself, but treated us as if we were always 
 to remain children, and forgot that a store of 
 future misery was laid up with every caprice 
 she humoured. Inconsolable for the loss of 
 her husband, and continually haunted by the 
 remembrance of her father^s curse, she had not 
 the energy to thwart or to correct us. We 
 grew up in consequence self-willed and pas- 
 sionate, and by the time we were ten years old 
 completely governed my poor mother. Yet her 
 death was a blow to our young hearts, and well 
 can I remember the first pang of grief I ever 
 experienced, when they refused to let me enter 
 
 VOL. I. o 
 
290 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 the chamber of death, and told me I should 
 never see my mother again. 
 
 '^ We lived together, my brother and I, at our 
 old chateau, with no one to control our child- 
 ish proceedings. We treated our servants with 
 haughtiness, but to each other we were ever 
 kind and gentle. From morning till night we 
 were together, hand in hand, and side by side, 
 totally uneducated, except by our own taste for 
 reading, which led us to devour the contents of 
 the old library. We were inseparable in thought 
 and deed. Our greatest delight was in riding 
 all over the beautiful country which surrounds 
 the chateau: Gaspard, who was an expert 
 horseman himself, purchased a beautiful jennet 
 for my use ; and he loved to instruct me in the 
 management of the noble little animal, while I, 
 on my part, experienced much pride in con- 
 quering my fears to gain his praise, and would 
 often declare I was as fearless as himself, when 
 my heart quaked within me. 
 
 "Thus passed, or rather flew, six years of 
 pure and peaceful happiness. The love of 
 angels cannot be more beautiful than that of a 
 brother and a sister. To hear my own feelings 
 clothed in nobler language, my own opinions 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 291 
 
 exalted by manly reasoning ; to find a superior 
 self in Gaspard^ and glory in his superiority ; to 
 know that I could fly to him for that assistance 
 and counsel he gave so well ; for that comfort 
 he loved to bestow — how sweet it was ! O, 
 God ! thou who knowest all things^ why was he 
 torn from me? He whose simplest word had 
 power to sooth and tranquillize my passions, 
 and whose nobler example was the only guide I 
 ever had to lead me on the path of virtue ! — 
 My enthusiasm wearies you : I will not trespass 
 much longer upon your patience. — We were 
 separated: he, by the direction of relations 
 who sadly neglected us, went to college, and 
 then entered the army under the auspices 
 of Marshal Villars. The year that brought 
 peace to France by the treaty of Rastadt, 
 brought death to my heart. Gaspard de Ber- 
 nay, whose ardent bravery exposed him to every 
 danger, was slain in his second battle, before he 
 had acquired that glory he so richly deserved. 
 Mortally wounded, he was carried off the field 
 by a brother officer, who brought me the sad 
 tidings. ^ His latest thoughts,^ said that kind 
 hearted young man, who soon after experienced 
 a similar fate, ' his latest words were of his 
 sister. Faint with loss of blood, he vainly en- 
 
292 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 deavoured to unbuckle his sword ; and when I 
 assisted him to do so, — Carry that to Mirabel, 
 he said, and tell her that Gaspard fondly hoped 
 he might have lived to give his country cause to 
 mourn a death, that will now only wring her 
 solitary heart. Tell her I did my duty, and bid 
 her hang those laurels on my tomb, which her 
 hands had fondly woven for my brow/ 
 
 ^^ Forgive me,^^ added Mirabel, as she raised 
 her eyes to the picture we have before de- 
 scribed ; '^ these recollections, which are seldom 
 called up in words, and that speaking resem- 
 blance, renew all my sorrow for the untimely 
 death of Gaspard'/^ Her eyes filled with tears, 
 and William, touched by her grief, extended his 
 hand, and endeavoured to console her. 
 
 " I passed one year, T may almost say of mad- 
 ness, at my chateau, and refused to see or speak 
 with a human being. I caused every thing that 
 had belonged to Gaspard to be placed in my 
 own apartment : I would sit for hours, without 
 speaking, looking at his picture, with his sword 
 lying on my knees. Then suddenly I would ad- 
 dress him by name, and call upon him to com- 
 fort me. Nay,^^ continued Mirabel, crossing 
 herself as she spoke, '^ I even presumed to ar- 
 raign that justice which had torn him from me. 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 2})3 
 
 Daily I visited his horse (that was never to bear 
 another), but the dog you now see, his favourite 
 Sable, has ever since been my constant compa- 
 nion : he would lie and whine at his master^s 
 door, till I knelt by his side, and bathed the 
 poor animal with my tears, for our grief was in 
 common. The neighbourhood believed me 
 mad, and well might they do so. 
 
 ^^ I was sitting one day as usual in my own 
 apartment, when one of my servants announced 
 the Duchess Dowager of Orleans. I forbade 
 him to admit her, but in vain. She was accom- 
 panied by the regent (the late king had been 
 dead several months), and although I was too 
 much incensed at the intrusion to receive them 
 with proper respect, the duchesses kind and 
 soothing manner found its way to my heart. 
 If they had heard the report of my insanity, 
 there was nothing in my appearance to lead 
 them to disbelieve it. The apartment was 
 hung with black ; I myself was dressed in the 
 deepest mourning, \\4th much that was perhaps 
 strange and fantastic in my apparel; and grief 
 and solitude gave wildness to my language and 
 manner. 
 
 ^' The regent spoke kindly and cheerfully ; lie 
 o 2 
 
294 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 had come^ he said, in his capacity of guardian, 
 to carry me away from my seclusion : his wife 
 had retained a vacancy among her maids of ho- 
 nour, in the hope that the Baronne de Bernay 
 would accept it. ' Your family/ he said, ^ have 
 always testified their attachment to the house 
 of Valois : your father bled, and your brother 
 died, in its service, and now we would do our 
 best to attach the lovely representative of so 
 loyal a race to our cause. ^ 
 
 '^ Here he spoke of Gaspard in a manner 
 that made my heart expand with j^ride. They 
 worked upon my feelings — I should rather say 
 upon my weakness : they wrung from me a 
 promise of consent, and a few months after- 
 wards I left my chateau, and found myself sud- 
 denly in the vortex of a dissipated court. My 
 highest excitement had hitherto been, a longer 
 ride than usual, a more interesting romance, or 
 a word of praise from Gaspard^s hps. My 
 knowledge of mankind was founded on those 
 chronicles of chivalry which we had devoured 
 together: in mybelieftherewerebut two classes 
 of men ; two descriptions of women — the loyal 
 knight, and the cruel tyrant ; the peerless dam- 
 sel, and the degraded sinner. I never dreamed 
 of all those shades between vice and virtue ; 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 295 
 
 those links which connect the golden with the 
 baser metal. I could not picture to myself that 
 one of my own sex would extol the beauty and 
 talent to me, which she disparaged to another ; 
 or that a wife and a mother could pour perni- 
 cious counsels in my young and inexperienced 
 ear. I never dreamed of men who would echo 
 my sentiments, and lead me on to that confi- 
 dence they purposed to abuse : who would speak 
 of honour and virtue as deities they worshipped, 
 and watch every change of countenance to regu- 
 late their words with the subtlety of demons ; 
 or like the cruel conquerors of the new w^orld, 
 study the language of the country, merely to 
 facihtate its capture. 
 
 '' But, even from the grave, the spirit of my 
 brother seemed to protect me. He had for so 
 long been my standard of manly excellence, that 
 I could feel no sympathy with those who bore 
 him no resemblance; and I was continually 
 asking myself if Gaspard would have considered 
 this or that man worthy of his friendship, or 
 his si sterns love. In fact, though I thought 
 well of all, I met no one towards whom I could 
 feel with that ardour which was to me the only 
 proof of loving. At first I thouglit well of all, 
 but my eyes w^ere soon opened ; I found 
 
296 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 hypocrisy where I had looked for virtue; 
 depravity where I expected candour ; en\^ and 
 malice where I was promised friendship. I 
 learned to hate, to despise, to condemn ! and 
 oh, above all, to doubt ! Unable to pursue the 
 tastes that were natural, the occupations that 
 were genial to me, I became what I am — what 
 I was two days ago. That torrent of feeling 
 within, its natural course once impeded, flowed 
 in a wrong direction. Inspired by scorn and 
 detestation, I loved to excite the passion that 
 I did not share, and the envy I had never felt, 
 among the men who would have deceived, 
 and the women who would have betrayed me. 
 From the moment of our first meeting, I 
 had been marked out for the regent's pursuit; 
 and vanity now urges him to follow up a 
 suit that he knows to be hopeless. In the 
 midst of this world of Paris, I am alone, soli- 
 tary, and desolate ! '' 
 
 Mirabel covered her face with both her hands, 
 but the tears she wished to conceal escaped 
 through her fingers. 
 
 " And that solitude,'' replied William, whose 
 attention had been rivetted by his companion's 
 sad tale, " should be a matter of rejoicing to 
 you, it should be your greatest boast." 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 297 
 
 " Perhaps so \" she repUed. '^ But the bane- 
 ful atmosphere of such scenes should never be 
 breathed by a young and pure-minded woman, 
 lest her eye and ear imbibe the poison which, 
 sooner or later, may infect her mind. Alas ! 
 how often is the burst of virtuous indignation 
 silenced by the sneers of ridicule ; how fre- 
 quently are the scruples of conscience carried 
 away by the overwhelming tide of example ! 
 
 " But do you not believe,^^ he inquired 
 earnestly, " that if some of the young and 
 lovely of the French aristocracy, strong in the 
 support of a conscience still free from contami- 
 nation; if they, I say, were to stand fortvard in 
 all the beauty of unassuming virtue, proving 
 not only by their conduct, but by every look 
 and every word, how widely they differed from 
 the world around them, do you not believe that 
 they would gain many proselytes, and in the 
 end give a new tone to the society which they 
 adorn ? Why do your sex, even the well-in- 
 chned portion, so lightly esteem the social 
 influence they possess ? why are they so as- 
 siduous to shun the imputation of excellence ? 
 I have always loved to consider woman as 
 placed by nature in possession of quiet but ex- 
 tensive power. She is not called upon to 
 
298 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 exercise her faculties in public activity, but in 
 the calmer sphere of private life her sway is, 
 or ought to be, most potent. I have more 
 than once seen a professed infidel put to silence 
 by a few words of mild reproof from female 
 lips ; but alas on the other hand, 1 have heard 
 language held, and opinions supported in the 
 presence of even virtuous women, who ap- 
 peared by silence to acquiesce in sentiments 
 they in reality detested, merely from some des- 
 picable scruple or weak timidity. Let not 
 woman, by a harsh and premature judgment, 
 be ever ready to condemn or even suspect 
 our motives, but let her, with that gentleness 
 which is one of her loveliest attractions, dis- 
 countenance evil with humility and approve 
 virtue with candour; and, above all, let her 
 never, for some pitiful gratification of vanity, 
 sport with those feelings which she ought to 
 compassionate and regret, even while she re- 
 proves and checks them.^^ 
 
 " Oh ?' exclaimed Mirabel, whose tears now 
 fell fast, ^^ I thank you for those words ! They 
 are the best proof of your pardon ; you would 
 never have cast them away on one whom you 
 believed incapable of understanding and appre- 
 ciating, dare I say of following, them ? But you 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 299 
 
 shall judge of their eifect ; you shall have reason 
 to confess I am not so unworthy as I ap- 
 peared — oh ! no — not so unworthy as my rash 
 conduct might have led you to suppose." 
 
 Her eyes fell; but raising them again with 
 an expression of modest pride, as if strong in 
 the knowledge of her own rectitude, she added, 
 '' Surrounded, as I before told you, by those 
 whose pursuit was not cooled either by the 
 neglect or arrogance with which I repaid their 
 passion, can you blame me for believing that one, 
 unto whom I could give my whole heart, might 
 learn to love me ? Alas ! how fondly I was led 
 to imagine that I had at length found the man 
 whom Gaspard would have gloried in calling 
 brother. How rashly did I dream of the time 
 when I might return to the home of my child- 
 hood with him, whose title was more sweet, 
 more sacred, than that of parent or brother ! 
 Do ^ not misunderstand me," she continued 
 abruptly, " I seek nothing ! I hope nothing ! 
 It is a dream passed away ! It was ordained 
 otherwise, and now my fondest wish is that 
 the time will come, when I may justify my title 
 to be your friend. May I ?" she said, bending 
 earnestly towards him ; " will you give me that 
 hope ? I deny not, from the moment we met. 
 
300 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 1 loved, though I did not know it then; but 
 even she, who could love unsought, shall learn 
 to chasten and subdue her love. Will you be- 
 lieve me, will you trust me ? My earnest ^dsh 
 and endeavour shall now be to watch over 
 your safety, and to preserve you to that happy 
 being who may deserve you better, but cannot 
 love you more, than I do !" 
 
 CliiFord was deeply moved. '^ What sor- 
 row,^^ he cried, " have I brought upon you, 
 what misery have I added to your lot !" 
 
 ^' True,^^ she replied, '^ you have rendered 
 this world a desert, and mankind more hateful 
 than before, but I would rather,'^ she cried 
 earnestly, '^ I would rather have it so than part 
 from one painful, but cherished memory/^ 
 
 '^ I grieve that it should be so,^' said Clifford ; 
 'Mjut in return for all your unmerited regard 
 and kindness I can but say, that I am deeply 
 grateful.^^ 
 
 '^ Do more !" replied Mirabel. '' Confide in 
 me ; show me the means of serving you, and 
 I will do it at the risk of life or fortune. But 
 we must part," she added, " for my duty calls 
 me to the palace, and I have another garb 
 and another countenance to assume. From 
 my demeanour they shall never discover the 
 
THE STATE PRISONER. 301 
 
 secret that is known to us alone ; and you, 
 William CliiFord — you will save me from their 
 taunts and mockery. You will not let the 
 Comte de Salins triumph, or the Duke of 
 Orleans revel in my grief ?^^ 
 
 ^^ You cannot fear it/^ said Clifford, rising to 
 withdraw ; ^^ you cannot, I am sure, believe me 
 so base." 
 
 She extended her hand, which he raised re- 
 spectfully to his lips, and left the room. 
 
 Within an hour Mirabel de Bernay stood by 
 the side of her royal mistress, whose levee was 
 unusually crowded. Never had the baronne^s 
 vivacity excited more admiration ; never had 
 the brilliancy of her wit attracted such universal 
 attention. The outward victory was complete, 
 her manner might have deceived William Clif- 
 ford, nay, for the moment, it almost deceived 
 herself. It is this species of courage, if we may 
 so term it, that belongs more especially to the 
 weaker sex. 
 
 The warrior, whose education has inured and 
 whose inclinations have led him to a life of 
 danger, may issue his commands with com- 
 posure while the bullet is corroding the flesh, 
 or amputation torturing the limb ; but to stand 
 
 VOL. I. p 
 
302 THE STATE PRISONER. 
 
 before the worlds with a smile on the lips and 
 a jest on the tongue^ when the heart is sick 
 and the hopes blighted, oh, that is the lot of 
 woman ! Then let joy be manifest, then 
 let satisfaction appear, then let the eye 
 gleam brighter and the mouth be wreathed with 
 smiles. No one must know her sorrow, for that 
 sorrow is degradation ; no one must guess the 
 inward conflict, lest derision and ridicule pol- 
 lute the sanctuary of her heart, and laugh its 
 most sacred feelings to scorn. Oh, God ! must 
 those sweet sympathies which thou hast im- 
 planted in our nature be exposed to the mockery 
 of thy creatures, or only reverenced in pro- 
 portion to their success ? 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 WHITING, BEAUFORT HOUSE, STRAND. 
 
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