II B R.ARY OF THL UN IVER.SITY or ILLINOIS S4-5S94 - tAA THE WANDERING JEW. HV EUGENE SUE, AUTHOR OF " THE MYSTERIES OF PARIS," KTC. KTC. ONE HUNDRED AND FOUR ENGRAVINGS, DRAWN ON WOOD BY M. VALENTIN, \M> KXECl'TKI) BY THE MOST EMINENT ENGLISH ENGRAVERS, UNDER THE SUPERINTENDENCE OF MB. CHARLES HEATH. IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. I. LONDON: CHAPMAN AND HALL, 186 STRAND. MDCCCXLVI. LONDON: PRINTED BY GEORGE BARCLAY, CASTLE STREET, LEICESTER SQUARE. LIST OF THE ILLUSTRATIONS. Morok's Apartment. J7 Morok. The Travellers. J Remembrances. Morok and Goliath. ^ Dagobert washing. Hose and Blanche. The Dream. The Surprise. Djalma protecting General Simon. Goliath at the Window. The Menagerie. S The Loss discovered. ^ The Burgomaster. <*> The Escape. ^ Rodin. "5 Pere d'Aigrigny. The Tattooing. .* Mahal and Djalma. r M. Joshua Van Dael. 4 The Strangler Chiefs. Tj Djalma and the Stranglers. V Monsieur and Madame Dupont. The Storm. \ The Shipwreck, bv The Orphans discovered. 1 Francoise Baudoin. t>sA.gricola returning Lutine. >J The Flower. o> Agricola reading the L^ter. ^ Dagobert and Agricola. r The Meeting of Agricola and Gabriel. XJeorgette and Lutine. Adrienne's Toilet-chamber. The Toilet of Adrienne. Madame de Saint-Dizier. The Letter. The Espionage. The Enemies of Adrienne. Treachery. Adrienne and her Aunt. A False Friend. The Captive. The Visit. The Grief of Francoise. The Letter. The Confessional. The Visit of Madame Baudoin. The Arrest. The Convent. The Threat. The Masquerading. The Contrast. Florine and La Mayeux. La Mayeux discovering Adrienne. The Interview. The Family Meeting. Escalade and Forcible Entry. The Two Brothers of the Good Work. Samuel and Bathsheba. The Heir. The 13th of February the Red Chamber. The Will disputed. The First Last and the Last First. Mother Arsine and Rose Pompon. LIST OF THE ILLUSTRATIONS. The Unexpected Visit. The Accuser. Adrienne's Release. The Seizure. Pierre Simon, due de Ligny. Waking Dreams. Adrienne and Djalma. La Mayeux's Apartment. Angele and Agricola. Marechal Simon and his Father. Rodin exposing M. de Blassac. The Battle. The Confession. Morok preparing for the Theatre. Djalma and Rose Pompon. The Collation. Rodin attacked by Cholera. The Singular Contest. Mirth and Misery. The Murderers. The Snare. The Torture. Suicide. Adrienne rescuing La Mayeux. The Rivals. Adrienne and Djalma. The Secret Closet. The Confession. Jocrisse and Dagobert. Reveries of Rose and Blanche. Confidence restored. The Dismissal. The Contribution. The Death of Rose and Blanche. Love and Hatred. Madame de la Sainte-Colombe and Nini-Moulin. The Last Embrace. The Duel. The Prospect of Happiness. CONTENTS THE FIRST VOLUME. PROLOGUE. The Two Worlds I PABT I. THE INN OF TUK WHITE FALCON. Chap. I. Morok 4 H. The Travellers 9 III. The Arrival 17 IV. Morok and Dagobert 22 V. Rose and Blanche 8 VI. Mutual Confidence 37 VII. The Traveller 43 VIII. Fragments of General Simon's Journal 51 IX. The Cages 58 X. The Surprise 64 XI. Jovial and La Mort 69 XII. The Burgomaster 75 Xm. The Investigation 81 XTV. The Result 89 PABT II. THE STREET OF THE MILIEU-DES-UBSINS. XV. The Informations , . 95 XVI. Orders 102 XVII. Epilogue 112 PABT III. THE STBANGLEBS. XVni. The Ajoupa 118 XIX. The Tattooing 122 XX.- The Smuggler 126 XXI. M. Joshua Van Dael 131 XXIL The Ruins of Tchandi 186 XXIIL The Ambuscade 142 XXTV. The Chateau de Cardoville. M. Rodin 151 XXV. The Tempest 163 XXVL The Chateau de Cardoville. The Shipwrecked 168 XXVII. Departure for Paris 177 XXVIU. La Rue Brise-Miche. Dagobert's Wife 185 XXIX. The Sister of the Bacchante Queen 190 XXX. Agricola Baudoin 198 IV CONTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME. ftp Chap. XXXI. The Return 207 XXXII. Agricola and La Mayeux 215 XXXm. The Morning 221 XXXIV. The Hotel de Saint-Dizier. The Pavilion 232 XXXV. Adrienne's Toliet 237 XXXVI. The Interview 247 PABT IV. HOTEL PE SAINT-DIZIER. XXXVH. A Jesuitess 256 XXXVIIL The Plot 262 XXXIX. The Enemies of Adrienne 269 XL. The Skirmish ' 275 XLL The Revolt 279 XLIL The Hotel de Saint-Dizier 289 XLni. The Snare 291 XLIV. A False Friend 299 XL V. The Minister's Residence 306 XL VI. The Visit 315 XL VTL Presentiments ! 325 XLVin. The Letter 331 XLIX. The Confessional 340 L. Monsieur and Kill- Joy 350 LI. Appearances ., 354 LH. The Convent 358 LITE. The Influence of a Confessor 368 LIV. The Interrogatory 375 PABT V. THE QUEEN-BACCHANAL. LV. The Masquerading 380 LVL The Contrast 388 LVH. The Reveille-Matin 395 LVm. The Adieux 403 LIX. The Charity of Sainte-Maric. Florine 409 LX. The Abbess Sainte-Perpetue 416 LXL The Temptation 425 LXH. La Mayeux and Mademoiselle de Cardoville 432 LXHI. The Rencounters 440 LXIV. The Rendezvous 450 LXV. Discoveries 457 LXVL The Penal Code 464 LXVII. Escalade and Forcible Entry 472 LXVm. The Eve of an Important Day 481 LXIX. The Strangler 487 WANDERING JEW. PROLOGUE. THE TWO WORLDS. THE Arctic Ocean is encircled by a belt of eternal ice, the desert boundaries of Siberia and of Northern America the extreme limits of the two worlds are separated by the narrow Straits of Behring. The month of September is just at its close. The equinox comes in with darkness and the northern storms night will soon displace one of the short and dull days of the poles. The sky, of a dark violet colour, is feebly lighted by a sun which is without heat, whose white disc, scarcely seen above the horizon, turns pale before the dazzling brightness of the snow which covers and conceals the vast steppes. To the north, this desert is bounded by a coast bristling with black and gigantic rocks. At the foot of their Titanic piles lies, motionless, the vast ocean, with its ice-bound waves, extended chains of frozen mountains, whose blue-tinted peaks are lost from view in a mass of snowy vapour. To the east, between the two peaks of Cape Oulikine, the eastern confine of Siberia, there is visible a line of darkish green, whence slowly creep forth numerous white and glassy icebergs. It is Behring's Straits. Beyond it, and towering above it, are the vast granitic masses of the Cape de Galles, the extreme point of North America. These desolate latitudes belong no more to the habitable world ; their piercing and fierce cold rends the very stones, cleaves the trees, and bursts the ground, which groans in producing the germs of its icy herbage. No human being would seem endued with power to dare the soli- tude of these regions of frost and tempest of famine and of death. Yet, strange to say, we trace steps on the snow which covers these 1 B 2 THE WANDERING JEW. deserts, these last boundaries of two continents divided by Behring's Straits. On the American side are seen foot-prints which, by their small- ness and lightness, denote a woman's presence. She has moved in the direction of the rocks, from whose heights are seen, beyond the strait, the icy steppes of Siberia. On the Siberian side footmarks, larger and deeper, denote the pre- sence of a man. He, too, has turned towards the strait. It would seem, that this man and this woman, thus reaching, from opposite directions, the extremities of the globe, have passed to see each other across the narrow armlet of the sea which separates the two worlds. Still more strange ! This man and this woman have crossed these solitudes during a fearful tempest. Some black pines, the growth of centuries, pointing their bent heads in different directions of the solitude, like crosses in a church- yard, have been torn up, broken, and hurled in various places by the storm. Through the raging hurricane, which uproots huge trees, which drives before it the mountains of ice and dashes them in masses against each other with the noise of thunder through this awful storm these travellers have made their way. Yes, they have made their way without deviating, even for a pace, from the straight line which they have pursued, as might be seen from their equal, regular, and well-defined foot-track. Who can they be, these two beings, who march onward thus calm and resolved in the midst of the convulsions and throes of nature ? Chance, will, or fatality, has formed beneath the iron-shod shoe of the man seven projecting nails which form a cross : And every where he leaves this trace. To see these deep imprints in the hard and polished ice, one could compare it to a sheet of marble stamped by a foot of iron. But now a night without twilight has succeeded to day. Dark, dark night ! By the bright refraction of the sun on the sea, the steppe loses its pure whiteness beneath a heavy cupola of so deep a blue, that it would seem black ; the pale stars are lost in the depths of this pal- pable obscure. Silence reigns ! But towards the Strait of Behring a feeble glimmer appears in the horizon. At first it is softly brilliant, blue as the light which precedes the rising of the moon ; then the brightness increases, spreads, and assumes a roseate hue. In the other quarters of the heavens the darkness waxes deeper, and the whitened extent of the desert is hardly distinguishable from the midnight blackness of the vaulted firmament. THE TWO WORLDS. O In the midst of this obscurity are heard strange, confused sounds. It would seem like the flight of large night-birds as they flap their wings noisily around and over the plain. But no cry is heard. This fearful silence betokens the approach of one of those imposing phenomena which strike with terror all animated beings, from the mere savage to the most timid. An aurora borealis, that magnificent spectacle so frequent in the polar regions, is at hand. In the horizon there appears a half-circle of dazzling brightness. From the centre of this shining hemisphere immense columns of light jet forth, which, rising to measureless heights, illumine heaven, earth, and sea. These rays, burning like fire, glide along the snows of the desert, empurpling the blue tops of the mountains of ice, and tinting with a deepened red the tall black rocks of the two continents. After having reached the fulness of magnificence, the aurora borealis grows gradually pale, and its clear brightness becomes lost in a luminous mist. At this moment, owing to the singular effect of the mirage, fre- quent in these latitudes, the American coast, although separated from Siberia by the interposition of an arm of the sea, appears suddenly so near that it would seem as though a bridge might be thrown from one world to the other. At this instant, in the midst of that transparent and pale blue vapour, which pervaded the two worlds, two human figures were dis- cernible. On the Siberian Cape, a man on his knees extended his arms to- wards America, with a gesture of measureless despair. On the American promontory, a young and lovely woman responded to this attitude of hopeless wretchedness by pointing her taper finger towards heaven. For several seconds these two tall figures might be seen pale and shadowy in the parting rays of the aurora borealis. But the mist thickened gradually, and all was lost in the growing darkness. Whence came these two beings who thus met in the polar glaciers, at the very extremities of the earth ? Who were these two creatures, brought together for one instant by a deceptive mirage, but who seemed separated for eternity ? TllK WANDEEINO JEW. PART I. THE INN OF THE WHITE FALCON. CHAPTER I. MOUOK. IT vras the end of October 1831. Although it was still daylight, a brazen lamp, with four burners, cast its rays on the bare walls of a large garret, whose one window was carefully closed ; a ladder, whose steps projected beyond the mouth of a trap-door, served as a staircase. Here and there, thrown carelessly on the floor, were iron chains, collars with sharpened points, cavessons with teeth like saws, muzzles studded with nails, long rods of steel with wooden handles. In one corner was a small portable stove, such as plumbers use for melting lead, in which coals were placed over billets of wood, which a spark would in a moment kindle into a blaze. Not far from these instruments of sinister appearance, which looked like the tools of an executioner, were some arms of antique form. A coat of mail, with rings so flexible, so light, and so close, that it resembled steel tissue, were laid on a chest, beside which were cuisses and armlets of iron, in good preservation, and furnished with leather straps. Several other weapons, and particularly two long pikes, with triangular blades with ashen handles, at once light and strong, and on which were the recent stains of blood, completed this panoply, which had the modern accompaniment of a brace of Tyrolean carbines primed and loaded. In this arsenal of deadly weapons and barbarous instruments was strangely mingled a collection of very different things, small glass cases, enclosing rosaries, necklaces, medals of AGNUS DEI, vessels for holy water, images of saints in frames. There was, also, a quantity of the pamphlets printed at Fribourg, on coarse blue paper, pamphlets in which were recited many modern miracles, in which was quoted a letter, signed J. C., addressed to a " faithful disciple," in which, too, there were, for the years 1831 and 1832, predictions of a most fearful description against impious and revolutionary France. One of those paintings on canvass which showmen place in front of their movable booths, hung from one of the projecting beams of the attic, doubtless that the picture might not suffer by being rolled up too long. ^k. MOROK'S APARTMENT. ,'iu:iii :i:i 1 ll:;ll. J'uiuarv 1. l-i . MonoK. 5 This canvass bore the following inscription : " THE VERACIOUS AND MKMORABLK CONVERSION OF IGNATIUS MOROK, SURNAME!) THE PROPHET, WHICH HAPPENED AT FlUBOURG, IN THE YEAR 1828." This painting, whose proportions were larger than life, was done in most vivid colours, and the inscription, in great letters, was divided into three compartments, which displayed three important features in the life of the convert, called the Prophet. In the first was seen a man with a long beard, of so light a brown as to be almost white, with savage aspect, and attired in the skin of a reindeer, such as is worn by the wild populations of the north of Siberia ; his cap was of black fox's skin, ending with a raven's skull. His looks expressed terror, and bending in his sledge, which, drawn by six wild-looking dogs, glided over the snow, he fled from the pursuit of a pack of foxes, wolves, monstrous bears, &c., who all, with open jaws, and armed with formidable teeth, seemed capable of devouring a hundred times over man, dogs, and sledge. Beneath this picture was : " IN 1810 MOROK WAS AN IDOLATER, AND FLED BEFORE WILD BEASTS." In the second compartment, MOROK, attired in the white robe of the catechumen, was kneeling, with clasped hands, before a man dressed in a long black gown, with a white, falling collar. In one corner of the picture a tall angel, with a repulsive look, held a trumpet in one hand, and a flaming sword in the other, whilst the following words escaped from his lips, in red letters on a black ground : " MOUOK THE IDOLATER FLED FROM WILD BEASTS; THE WILD BEASTS WILL NOW FLEE FROM BEFORE IGNATIUS MOROK, CONVERTED AND BAPTISED AT FlUBOURG." In the third compartment, the new convert stood erect, haughty, disdainful, triumphant, beneath his long blue robe which hung in folds ; his head was proudly elevated, he had his left hand on his hip, with the right hand extended, and was in the very act of terrifying a crowd of tigers, hyenas, bears, lions, &c. &c., who were drawing in their claws, hiding their teeth, and crouched at his feet, submissive and frightened. Beneath the latter compartment there was inscribed as a moral con- clusion : " IGNATIUS MOROK is CONVERTED; THE WILD BEASTS CROUCH AT HIS FEET." Not far from these tableaux were several bundles of small books, all printed at Fribourg, in which it was narrated by what wonderful miracle the Idolater Morok was converted, had suddenly acquired a supernatural power, as was testified every day by the trial to which the " tamer of beasts " submitted himself, less to display his coufage and boldness, than to the praise and glory of the Lord. * * * * * From the open trap in the garret there arose in puffs a wild, acrid, strong, and penetrating smell. From time to time there were heard the sounds of heavy and low growls ; deep breathings were followed by a dull noise, like that made by some heavy body which spreads and stretches itself along the floor. There was a man alone in this chamber. 6 THE WANDERIKO JEW. It is Morok, the tamer of wild beasts, gurnamed the Prophet." He is forty years of age, of middling height, his limbs shrunken, and his form singularly attenuated. A long pelisse, blood-red in colour, and trimmed with black fur, completely covers him ; his complexion, naturally fair, is bronzed by the wandering life he has led from his infancy ; his hair of that yellow and dull colour peculiar to certain nations of the polar countries, fell straight and lank down his shoulders; his nose is thin, sharp, and aquiline; whilst around his prominent cheek-bones there is a long beard, apparently white, but really of the lightest brown. The physiognomy of this man was the more singular as his eyelids, which were very wid'e and high, displayed his fierce eyeball encircled by a white ring. His look, fixed and extraordinary, exercised a won- derful and actual fascination over animals, which, however, did not prevent the Prophet from also using in their subjugation the terrible arsenal of weapons which lay around him. Seated before a table, he had just opened the secret drawer of a small chest filled with chaplets of beads and other toys used by the devout. In this secret drawer, closed by a peculiar lock, was a quantity of sealed envelopes, addressed only with a number, combined with a letter of the alphabet. The Prophet took one of these packets, and, putting it in the pocket of his pelisse, shut up the secret drawer, and restored the chest to the small table whence he had taken it. The scene occurs about four o'clock in the afternoon, at the inn of the White Falcon, the sole hostelry of the little village of Mockern, near Leipsic, coming from the north towards France. After a few moments a hoarse roar, which came from underground, made the whole garret tremble. "Judas, be silent!" exclaimed the prophet, in a menacing tone, and turning quickly towards the trap. Another deep growl, resembling distant thunder, was then heard. " Silence, Cain, I say !" cried Morok, rising. A third roar of surpassing and inexpressible savageness now re- sounded through the place. " Will you be quiet, La Mort ? " cried the prophet, hurrying towards the trap, and addressing some invisible animal who bore the gloomy appellation alluded to. Spite of the habitual authority of his voice, spite of his reiterated menaces, the tamer of brutes could not obtain silence, on the contrary, the loud barking of several mastiffs was now added to the roaring of the beasts. Morok seized a lance, and proceeded to mount the ladder, when an individual was seen emerging from the trap. The stranger had a sun-burnt, healthy countenance ; he was dressed in a round, broad- brimmed, grey hat, a short vest, and long loose trousers of green cloth. His dusty leather gaiters announced his having come some considerable distance, while, suspended over his shoulders by a large strap, he bore a capacious bag, such as is used for carrying game. "The devil take the animals!" cried he, descending the ladder, " they seem to have forgotten me during the three days I have been atxcnt. Why, Judas poked out his paw through the bars of his cage, and La Mort tore about like a mad thing. I suppose they did not know me again." MOROK. p. . London: Cliapir.an anil Hall. January I, 1-1 > MOROK. 7 This was said in German, to which Morok replied in the same language, though with a slightly foreign accent. " Good or bad news, Karl ?" inquired he anxiously. "Oh, good!" " You have met with them, then ?" " I have. Yesterday, two leagues from Wittemberg." "Heaven be praised!" cried Morok, joining his hands with an expression of the deepest satisfaction. " Why, I could not fail overtaking them ; they were constrained to travel this road from Russia to France, and it was a thousand to one in favour of coming up with them between Wittemberg and Leipsic." " And the description ?" " Answers precisely : two young girls dressed in mourning, a white horse, an old man with long moustachios, wearing a blue foraging cap and grey military coat, followed by a Siberian dog." " And you have left them ?" " About a league from hence. In less than half an hour they will be here." " And in this very inn, there being none other in the village," rejoined Morok, with a pensive air. " And night fast approaching," added Karl. " Did you enter into conversation with the old man ?" " Conversation ! You surely are not thinking when you ask such a question." "How?" " No ; I did not converse with him, for the best of all reasons." " What reason can you assign ?" " The utter impossibility." "Impossible! And wherefore ?" " You shall hear. I first followed them as though accidentally journeying the same road ; then, towards nightfall yester evening, I approached them, and gave them the salutation common with foot- travellers, saying, ' Good night, and a pleasant journey, comrade;' the only answer I received was a look of defiance, while with the end of his stick the sullen individual so addressed pointed to the other side of the road." " He is a Frenchman, and probably did not understand your German." " Well, I heard him speak it as well as you or I when he arrived at the inn, where I also took care to put up, for I heard him ask for what he required for himself and party in perfectly good German." " And could you not manage to draw him into conversation during the evening?" " I tried once, but was so roughly repulsed that, for fear of incurring any risk, I would not venture again. I tell you, between ourselves, that you must be on your guard. This man has a look I don't like at all, and, spite of his grey moustache and attenuated frame, for he is bony as a skeleton, he looks so determined and so strong, too, that I scarcely know whether he or my comrade, Goliath, would have the best were they to engage in trial of strength. I know not what are your projects, but again, I say, ' Take care, master, take care!'" 8 THE WA5DERING JEW. " My black Java panther was also strong and disposed for mis- chief," added Morok, with a smile at once sinister and disdainful. "La Mort? Yes, and he remains still fierce and dangerous as ever to all but yourself to you certainly he is gentle enough." " And so will I make this old man, spite of his strength and rude boorishness." " Nay, nay, master, do not hope it ; you are as clever and brave as mortal man can be ; but, trust me, not even you can change the fierce old wolf we expect here into a lamb." " Do not my lion Cain, and Judas my tiger, crouch before me with terror and submission?" " True ; but then you have such means to compel them as , " "Because I have FAITH that is all and that comprises all," said Morok, imperiously interrupting Karl, and accompanying the words with such a look as made the other cast down his eyes and remain mute. " Wherefore should not the man who by divine power has been permitted to prevail over the wild beast of the forest, have his arm also strengthened unto victory over perverse and impious man ? " added the prophet, with a triumphant and inspired voice. Whether from conviction of the power of his master, or his own inability to enter upon a controversy on so delicate a subject, Karl contented himself with humbly replying, " You are wiser than I am, master, and what you do is well done and must succeed." " Did you follow this old man and the young girls through the whole journey ? " inquired the prophet, after a momentary silence. " I did, but cautiously and at a distance ; only, as I am well acquainted with the country, I sometimes made a short cut through a valley, sometimes over a mountain, still keeping them in sight the last look I got at them was from behind the old water-mill, down there where the tile-works are. As they were travelling on at a good pace, and night was approaching I hastened onwards to prepare for their arrival, and to announce to you a piece of good news I thought you would be glad to hear." " Most glad, most rejoiced," replied Morok ; " neither shall your welcome tidings go unrewarded, for, had these people escaped" me " the prophet shook with an universal tremor, and ceased abruptly, but the expression of his countenance and the tone in which he spoke, abundantly declared how important were the particulars just communicated to him. " Now I think of it," said Karl, " perhaps that courier, all covered with gold lace, who came here all the way from St. Petersburg without once stopping on the road, such was his haste to find you, had possibly something to do in the same important affair with which these people are mixed up : perhaps he " Morok abruptly interrupted Karl, by inquiring, " And who informed you the courier from Petersburg was in any way concerned with the travellers we look for ? You are wholly mis- taken in your conjectures. Henceforward be more wise, and do not affect to know more than I tell you." " Be it so, master ; but pardon me this time : I do not think of it again. I must take off' my game-bag here, and go and look after Goliath to help me feed the beasts ; it must be about their supper- THE TRAVELLERS. 9 time, if not already past the usual hour. Do you think, master, that big giant of ours would be likely to forget to feed the animals ?" " Goliath has gone out. He must not know that you have re- turned ; neither would I have you seen by our expected travellers ; it might excite much suspicion." " Where do you wish me to go to ?" " Go down to the small outhouse adjoining the stable, and there await my orders ; for I may possibly have to send you off this very night for Leipsic." " When you please and where you please ; 1 am at your pleasure. I have still some provisions remaining in my wallet ; so 1 may as well go at once to my place, and be eating my supper and taking rest at the same time ; so that I can start at a moment's notice." " Begone, then !" " Master, remember what I have said to you, and mistrust that old fellow with the grey moustache ; I believe him to be a very devil for resolute courage. I am a pretty good judge, and it is my firm belief he would prove an ugly customer ; mistrust him above all things, I entreat you." " Be satisfied," said Morok ; " you know it is my habit to trust nobody." " Adieu, then, master ! all good luck attend you." And Karl, slowly ascending the ladder, quitted the place by the same means he had entered. After bestowing a friendly adieu on his servant, the prophet con- tinued slowly to pace the floor, wrapped in a profound meditation ; then, approaching the casket with the false lining, which contained a quantity of papers, he selected a letter of considerable length, which he perused again and again with the most eager attention, occasionally going to the closed shutter which looked out on the court-yard of the small inn, and listened with anxiety, mingled with impatience, for the arrival of the three persons whose approach had just been announced to him. CHAPTER II. THE TRAVELLERS. WHILST the scene we have described was passing at the White Falcon, at Mockern, the three persons whom Morok, the tamer of wild beasts, awaited so anxiously, were quietly progressing through smiling meadows, bounded on one side by a river whose current turned a mill, and on the other by the highroad which led to the village of Mockern, which was about a league's distance on the top of a tolerably high hill. The sky was beautifully serene. The bubbling of the river, beaten by the mill-wheel, and sparkling with foam, alone disturbed the stillness of this calm evening; willows, thick with leaves, bent over the water, on which they threw their green and transparent shadows j 10 THE WANDERING JEW. whilst farther on the river reflected the blue of the firmament and the warm tints of the setting sun so splendidly, that, but for the hills which separated it from the sky, the gold and azure of the wave would have been intermingled in one dazzling sheet with the gold and azure of the heavens. The tall reeds on the bank bent their velvet heads beneath the light breeze which so often rises with the close of day ; the sun was slowly sinking beneath a large expanse of purple clouds, tipped with flame. The lively and clear air brought up the distant tinkling of the bells of a flock of sheep. Across a path worn in the grass of the meadow, two young girls, almost children for they were only just fifteen years of age were riding on a white horse of moderate height, seated in a large Spanish saddle, which easily held them both, for they were of small and slender figure. A very tall man, with swarthy complexion and long moustachios, led the horse by the bridle, and turned from time to time towards the youthful maidens with an air at once anxious, respectful, and paternal. He leaned on a long staff; his shoulders, still robust, bore a soldier's knapsack ; whilst his dusty gaiters and his weary steps betokened the fatigue of a lengthened journey. One of those dogs which the people of the north of Siberia attach to their sledges, a powerful beast, with the size, the make, and the colour of a wolf, followed closely on the steps of this little caravan, never leaving for an instant the heels of his master. Nothing could be more charming than the group of these two young girls. One of them held in her left hand the loose bridle, and with her right arm encircled the waist of her sleeping sister, whose head reposed on her shoulder. Each step of the horse communicated to these two yielding forms an undulation full of grace, as they balanced their tiny feet on a step made of wood, which served them for a stirrup. These twin-sisters were called Rose and Blanche, owing to a tender fancy of their mother. They were orphans, as might be seen from their dark-coloured garments, which were somewhat faded. Such was the exactness of their resemblance and the equality of their size, that it required to be acquainted with them to distinguish one sister from the other. The portrait of her who was not sleeping may serve for both ; the only difference that existed at this moment was that Rose was awake, and on this day fulfilled the functions of the elder sister, functions which were made mutual, thanks to the fancy of their guide, who, an old soldier of the empire, was a strict disciplinarian, and had thought it right to alternate between the two orphans subordination and control. An artist would have been inspired at the sight of these two lovely countenances, with head-dresses, or rather hoods of black velvet, whence escaped a profusion of clustering curls of the brightest chest- nut hair flowing down their neck and shoulders, and surrounding their round, healthy, and velvet cheeks. A carnation, wet with dew, could not display a more lovely scarlet than did their pouting lips; the tender blue of the violet would have seemed dark beside the limpid azure of their large eyes, in which were painted the sweetness of their disposition and the innocence of their age. A white and smooth ,' . : : : ; i ', ' THE THAVELLBR3. P. ]. I...ii<]on: Chapman ,ind Hall. January 1. I- IV THE TRAVELLERS. 11 brow, a delicately formed nose, and a dimple in their chin, completed faces replete with ingenuousness and sweetness of temper. It was charming to see them when, on the approach of a shower or a storm, the old soldier carefully wrapped them both in a large pelisse of reindeer's skin, and pulled over their heads the capacious hood of this weather-proof garment. Then nothing could be more delicious than these two fresh and lovely faces sheltered by this dark- coloured cloak. But this evening was fine and serene, and the heavy mantle was only wrapped around the knees of the two sisters, whilst the large hood fell back on the crupper of the saddle. Rose kept her right arm encircled round her sister, who still slumbered, gazing on her with an air of inexpressible tenderness, almost maternal ; for to-day Rose was the senior, and an elder sister is already almost a mother. Not only did these orphans idolise each other, but, by a psycholo- gical phenomenon common to twins, they were usually simultaneously affected ; the emotion of one was instantly reflected in the countenance of the other ; the same cause made them both start or blush, for truly did their young hearts beat in unison. In fact simple joys, bitter griefs all between them was mutually felt and instantly participated. In their infancy, attacked at the same moment by a cruel malady, like two flowers on one stem, they had together bent, grown pale, and languished ; but together also they had resumed their former health and charming appearance. Need we say that these mysterious and indissoluble bonds which united the twins, could not be severed without proving a mortal blow to both of them alike ? Thus those tender creatures, which we call the " love-birds," can only live together; they grow sad, suffer, peak, pine, and die, when any cruel hand severs them from each other. The guardian of the orphans, a man of about fifty-five years of age, of a military appearance, presented the immortal type of the soldiers of the republic and the empire, that heroic offspring of the people, who became in one campaign the first soldiers in the world, proving to the world what the people can and will do when those they choose put confidence, reliance, and hope in them. This soldier, who was the protector of the two sisters, was an old grenadier of the Imperial Horse-Guards, named Dctgobert. His face was serious, imperturbable, and strongly marked ; his grey moustache, long and thick, completely hid his lower lip, and joined a large im- perial, which covered nearly the whole of his chin ; his lean cheeks, of the colour of brick-dust and tanned like old parchment, were care- fully shaved ; thick eyebrows, still black, almost covered his light-blue eyes ; his gold ear-rings descended to the edge of his military stock ; tthern belt confined his cloak, of thick grey cloth, about his waist; and a blue cap with a red tassel, which fell on his left shoulder, covered his bald head. Once endued with the strength of a Hercules, but always retaining the courage of a lion, good and patient, because he was brave and powerful, Dagobert, in spite of the harshness of his features, evinced for the orphans an exquisite anxiety, constant consideration, marvel- 12 THE WANDERING JEW. lous tenderness, -almost maternal yes, maternal ! for the heroism of affection displays the heart of a mother and the heart of a soldier. Of stoical calmness, and keeping down every appearance of emotion, the perfect sang froid of Dagobcrt was never disturbed ; thus although nothing could be less sportive than he, yet he was at times really comical in consequence of that air of unruffled seriousness which characterised his every action. From time to time, as he wended on his way, Dagobert turned round to give a pat or say a kind word to the good white horse which bore the orphan girls, and whose eyes and long teeth betrayed his respectable antiquity ; two deep scars, one on the flank and the other on the breast, shewed that he had been present in fierce engagements ; and so it was not without an air of pride that from time to time he shook his old military bridle, on the brass of whose bit there was an eagle in relievo. His step was easy, careful, and firm ; his skin glossy, his condition excellent, and the foam which abundantly covered his bit proved the health which horses acquire by the constant but not excessive work of a long journey by short stages ; for although he had been en route for more than six months, this admirable animal stepped on with as much alacrity as he had started, bearing the two orphans and a tolerably heavy portmanteau, fastened to the back of the saddle. If we have alluded to the extreme length of the teeth of the old horse (and they are the unmistakable evidences of old age), it was because he often shewed them, though only with the intention of being faithful to his name (which was Jovial), and to play a little prank, of which the dog was the victim. The dog, who was called Kill-joy (no doubt as a contrast), never left the heels of his master, was constantly within reach of Jovial, who now and then biting him gently by the skin of his back, lifted him up and carried him so for an instant ; the dog, protected by his thick hide and no doubt long used to similar facetiousness from his companion, submitted to the fun with an air of stoical indifference, only when he thought the joke had lasted long enough Kill-joy growled audibly. Jovial, who understood his friend's nod as soon as his wink, instantly dropped him. At other times, and doubtless by way of a change, Jovial lightly nibbled the soldier's haversack ; and his master, with his dog, seemed perfectly accustomed to these little jokes. These details will enable us to learn the excellent terms which existed between the two twin-sisters, the old soldier, the horse, and the dog. The little caravan advanced, somewhat impatient to reach the vil- lage of Mockern, which was in sight, before nightfall. Dagobert looked about him from time to time, seeming as though recalling old remembrances to his mind. Gradually his features grew sad, and when he was at a little distance from the windmill, whose noise had attracted his attention, he stopped, and frequently passed his fore-finger and thumb over his long moustachios, the only symptom of a strong and irrepressible emotion that he ever displayed. Jovial having stopped suddenly behind his master, Blanche, who was awakened by this, raised her head : her first look was at her sister, at whom she smiled sweetly ; they both exchanged looks of surprise IlEMEMBRANCES. P. IJ. -. man anl Hall. January I, 1>V>. TUT, TRAVELLERS. 13 at the sight of Dagobert motionless, his hands clasped together on the top of his long staff, and apparently overcome by a powerful and over- bearing feeling. The orphans were at this moment at the foot of a small mound, whose top was hidden by the thick foliage of a vast oak, planted half way up this little elevation. Rose, seeing Dagobert still motionless and lost in thought, leaned forward in her saddle, and, placing her little white hand on the shoulder of the soldier, whose back was towards her, said to him, in a soft tone, " What ails you, Dagobert ?" The veteran turned round, and, to the great surprise of the two sisters, they saw a large tear which, having marked its moistened furrow down his embrowned cheek, lost itself in his thick moustache. " What, weeping? Yes!" exclaimed Rose and Blanche, much moved ; " tell us, we beseech you, what what 'tis that ails you." After a trifling hesitation, the old soldier drew his hard hand across his eyes, and pointing to the aged oak near which they were resting, he said, in a tone of deep emotion, " My poor children, I shall make you grieve but what I have to say is a sacred duty I must fulfil. Listen : it is now eighteen years since the battle of Leipsic ; on the eve of that bloody scene I bore your father in my arms, all wounded and bleeding, and placed him beneath this very tree. He had received two sabre-cuts on his head, and a musket-ball in his shoulder : it was here that both he and myself, who had escaped with merely some flesh wounds, were taken prisoners; and by whom, think ye ? By a renegade, a traitor to his country, a Frenchman, an emigre marquess, now a colonel in the Russian service, and who subsequently but another time, you shall hear all that followed." Then, after a short pause, the veteran, pointing with his stick to the village of Mockern, added, " Yes, yes, there it is! Well do I recognise those heights, where your brave father, at the head of his regiment of Polonaise guards, cut down the Russian cuirassiers, and carried the battery they were in charge of. Ah, my children," added he, with grave simplicity, " I only wish you could have seen your gallant parent, at the head of his brigade, charge in the thickest of the enemy's ranks, while the shot flew about like hailstones. You will never see such a sight, anymore than I shall ever look upon his equal." While Dagobert was thus expressing his regrets and his recollec- tions, the two orphans, by a spontaneous movement, had lightly slid from their saddle, and, holding each other by the hand, had kneeled down at the foot of the old oak, then, closely pressing to each other's side, they burst into tears, while the old soldier, standing behind them, crossed his hands on his long staff, and leaned his bald forehead on them. " Come, come," said he, gently, when looking up at the end of a few minutes passed in intense meditation it might be prayer he per- ceived tears stealing down the delicate cheeks of the still kneeling sisters ; " come, dear children, you must not fret. Perhaps we shall meet General Simon again in Paris," continued he; "1 will explain myself more fully to you this evening, ere we retire to rest. I had my own particular reasons for choosing this day to relate to you many 14 THE WANDERING JEW. things concerning your father. I always wished to select this one particular day to acquaint you with much it is necessary you should be aware of, and to-day is the anniversary " * We were weeping," said Rose, " because we thought of our dear mother." " Whom we shall never see again till we rejoin her in Heaven," added Blanche. The soldier raised the orphans, took a hand of each, and looked alternately from one to the other with an expression of ineffable attach- ment, rendered still more striking by the contrast with his own weather- beaten countenance. " You must not grieve thus, dear children," said he. " True, your mother was one of the best, most estimable of women. When she inhabited Poland, she was styled ' the Pearl of Warsaw;' they might more justly have called her the Pearl of the whole world, for the universe itself could not produce her equal. No no " The voice of Dagobert died away ; his broad chest heaved as with suppressed emotion, and, according to his usual wont, he remained silently smoothing down his long moustache with his finger and thumb, " Hear me, my dear children," said he, after having successfully struggled with his emotion ; " were your beloved mother still with you, she could but give you good counsels could she?" " No, Dagobert." " And what were her dying injunctions to you both ? To think con- stantly of her, but to restrain all grief." " Yes, indeed, those were nearly her last words. She often told us that a merciful God, in pity to tender mothers constrained to leave their children on earth, would permit them the delightful privilege of watching over their offsprings, and hearing their prayers from Heaven," said Blanche, innocently. " And that her eye would ever behold us," added Rose. So saying, the sisters, as though influenced by one spontaneous feeling, clasped each other's hand with an air of touching innocence, and lifting their clear, blue eyes towards the scarcely bluer sky, re- peated, with all the enchanting simplicity of their age and disposition, " Mother, dear mother, we know that you see and hear your poor children." " Then since you are aware that your lost parent sees and hears all you do and say," interrupted Dagobert, deeply affected, " beware how you grieve her by giving way to regrets she so expressly forbade." " You are right, Dagobert." " We will not weep any more," said the orphans, drying their tears. Now Dagobert, far from being in the slightest degree a bigot, approached more closely to a state of heathenism. In Spain, he had cut down, with the utmost indifference, those monks of all orders and complexions who, bearing a crucifix in one hand and a poniard in the other, defended, not liberty (the Inquisition had for ages baffled all attempts of that nature), but their monstrous privileges. Still Dago- bert had for upwards of forty years been present at so many sights of fearful and terrible grandeur ; he had so often stared in the very jaws of death that the instinct of " natural religion," common to all simple and honest minds, had still survived in his soul; thus, though unable THE TRAVELLERS. 15 fully to understand or participate in the tender illusion which served to console the weeping orphans, he would have deemed it an unpardon- able crime to have sought in any way to destroy the fabric of hope which supported them. Seeing them more composed, he resumed, " That's right, my children ; dry up your tears, and prattle away as you did this morning, and all yesterday, laughing at your own little jokes, and not even answering when I spoke to you, so entirely were you occupied with your own conversation. Yes, yes, young ladies; the old soldier has found you out. You have got some nice, clever little business to talk over, and you have been quite occupied with it for the last three days. Well, so it does but serve to amuse you, and pass the tedious time away, I am as much pleased with it as you are." The sisters blushed, and exchanged a smile which contrasted greatly with the tears still glittering in their eyes. At length Rose replied, with a slightly embarrassed manner, " Indeed, and indeed, good Dagobert, we were not talking of any thing in particular : we just spoke of whatever came first in our heads." " Ah, well ! I don't seek to know any more than it pleases you to tell me. And now take a little rest, and then we will resume our journey, for it is growing late, and we must reach Mockern before night, that we may be enabled to set out again to-morrow morning quite early." " We have still a very long way to go have we not?" inquired Rose. " In order to reach Paris, you mean ? Yes, my dear children ; we have at least a hundred marches before us. We get on, though may-be slowly, and we travel cheaply too, for our purse is but a slender one. But then our wants are few : just a small chamber for you, with a palliasse and coverlet for myself, outside your door, with old Killjoy at my feet; a litter of fresh straw for Jovial: here is all our expense, for as to food, both of you together scarcely eat more than a bird ; and as to myself, I learned, when I was in Spain and Egypt, to reserve my appetite till I could conveniently indulge it." " You forget to add, that in order to economise still more, you have undertaken the sole duty of providing every thing we required, without permitting us to assist you in any way." " Yes, indeed, good Dagobert, when we think too that after first attending to all our wants, and seeing us comfortably provided for the night, you have actually set about washing and preparing our small stock of clothes ; and, as if it were not our place to perform such offices for ourselves " " You !" exclaimed the soldier, interrupting Blanche. " What ! al- low you to spoil your delicate little hands by dabbling in coarse, soapy water ? I should think not, indeed ! Besides, a soldier is accustomed to wash his own linen, and, I can assure you, young ladies, whatever you may think, I was considered the best laundress in the regiment ; and as for ironing, I think I am a pretty good hand at that too, eh, ladies?" " Oh, impossible to be better ; you excel in ironing." " Only sometimes," said Rose, smilingly, " you rather scorch the things." " Yes, yes ; that comes of my iron being too hot. Why, you see, 16 THE WANDERING JEW. if I hold it towards ray cheek, to judge of the heat, my skin is so thoroughly hardened that I cannot feel it," said Dagobert, with the most imperturbable gravity. " Don't you perceive that we are only joking, good Dagobert?" " Well then, my children, if you are satisfied with me as a laundress, I hope you will continue to me your custom. It is, at least, a cheap plan ; and, while we are en route, poor folks like ourselves should be as saving as possible, that our means may hold out till our arrival in Paris. Our papers, and the medal you have about you, will do the rest at least we must hope so." " The medal is most sacred in our eyes. It was our beloved mother's dying gift." " Then be most careful not to lose it, and look from time to time that you still have it about you." " Here it is," said Blanche, drawing from her corsage a small bronze medal, which she wore suspended round her neck bv a slender chain of the same medal. This medal presented on its two sides the following inscriptions : Victime de L.C.D.J. Priez pour moi. February 13, 1682. Paris, 3 Rue St. Franfois. Dans un siecle et demi vous serez February 13, 1832. Paris, Priez pour moi. " What does all that mean, Dagobert ?" said Blanche, attentively observing these mysterious inscriptions. " Our dear mother did not know herself." " We will talk more about it when we reach the village we are hastening to," replied Dagobert. "It is growing late. Let us start on our way. Be very careful with this medal ; and now, en route, we have still an hour's march ere we reach our halt. Come, my dear children, give one more look to the hillock once moistened with your father's blood, and then to horse -to horse !" The young orphans bent a glance of mingled piety and regret on the spot which had awakened such feelings of painful regret in their usually imperturbable guide, and then, with his aid, resumed their seat on Jovial. This venerable and sagacious animal had not employed the leisure afforded him by indulging in a little ramble on his own account, but, with all the forethought of a consummate general, had availed himself of the present opportunity to lay in a comfortable provision for the night by industriously devouring the fresh and tender grass he found growing on a foreign territory, and that, too, with so much apparent enjoyment as almost to excite the envy of Killjoy, who, stretched out on the grass, his nose between his two fore-paws, was attentively watching the signal of departure, which once given, he rose and resumed his place behind his master. Dagobert, first striking the earth with the end of his long staff, conducted the horse by his bridle, walking with great precaution, from the increasing marshiness of the ground. At the end of a few minutes travelling, he found himself obliged to strike off towards the left in order to regain the highroad. THE ARRIVAL. 17 Dagobert having, on his arrival at Mockern, inquired for the most humble house of entertainment, was referred to the White Falcon, as being the only inn the village afforded. " On, then, to the White Falcon," replied the soldier, as, following the directions given, he directed Jovial to the inn in question. CHAPTER III. THE ARRIVAL. MOROK, the tamer of wild beasts, had already many times, and with great impatience, opened the shutter in the garret which looked out into the courtyard of the White Falcon, anxious to watch the arrival of the two orphans and the soldier. Not having yet seen them arrive, he began again to walk slowly up and down with his arms folded on his breast, his head lowered, as though reflecting on the best mode of executing some plan which he had conceived. His ideas were, doubtless, employed very painfully, for his features seemed even more sinister than usual. In spite of his wild appearance, the man was by no means deficient in intelligence : the intrepidity of which he gave proof in his displays, and which, by a clever deceit, he attributed to his recent state of grace, a language at times solemn and mysterious, and an austere hypocrisy, had combined to give him a sort of influence over the people whom he visited in his peregrinations. Morok, long before his conversion, had been fully familiarised with the habits of wild beasts. Bom in the north of Siberia, he had, whilst very young, been one of the boldest hunters of the bear and reindeer. Still later, in 1810, giving up that pursuit, he had become the guide of a Russian engineer charged with the survey of the polar regions, and had accompanied him to St. Petersburg. There Morok, after many vicissitudes of fortune, was employed amongst the imperial couriers, those iron automata, whom the least caprice of a despot sends forth in a frail sledge through the whole vast extent of empire from Persia to the Frozen Ocean. These persons, who travel day and night with the rapidity of lightning, think not of seasons, obstacles, fatigues, or dangers : mere human projectiles, they must be broken or reach their destination. We may imagine, therefore, the boldness, vigour, and resignation, of men accustomed to such an existence. It is useless here to detail the remarkable series of events which led Morok to abandon this life of peril for another pursuit, and how he entered as a catechumen into a religious house at Fribourg, after which, properly and really converted, he had commenced his wander- ings, accompanied by a menagerie with whose origin no one was acquainted. * * * * Morok was walking up and down his attic. It was night. 2 c 18 THE WANDERING JEW. The three persons whom he so impatiently expected had not arrived. His step became more and more irresolute and impment Suddenly he stopped, leaned his head in the direction of the \vindow and listened. The man had a hearing as acute as a savage. " They come !" he exclaimed. And the balls of his savage eyes glared with fiendish joy ; he had heard the footsteps of a man and horse. Going to the shutter of his garret, he carefully half opened it, and saw the two young girls on horseback, and the old soldier who guided them, enter the courtyard of the inn. The night had set in dark and cloudy ; a high wind blew about the lifht of the lantern by which the guests were welcomed and assisted. The description which Morok had received was too precise for him to be deceived. Sure of his prey, he closed the window. After havin- reflected for a quarter of an hour no doubt, that he might fitly arrange all his plans he leant over the opening of the trap from which the top of the ladder which served him as a staircase projected, and called, "Goliath!" 11 Master ! " replied a hoarse voice. "Come hither!" " Here I am, just come from the slaughter-house. I've got the meat with me." The steps of the ladder groaned again, and soon an enormous head appeared on a level with the floor. Goliath (and fitly was he named, for he was upwards of six feet six, and cast in the mould of Hercules) was hideous ; his scowling eyes were deep sunk beneath his low and projecting brow ; his matted locks and beard were thick and hard as horsehair, giving to his features a brutal character ; between his large jaws, armed with teeth like hooks, he held by one corner a piece of raw beef, weighing ten or twelve pounds, finding it, no doubt, more convenient to carry the meat in this way, that he might have his hands free to help him up the ladder, which trembled beneath his tread. At last this vast and bulky frame wholly appeared at the trap, and by his bull's neck and the vast width of his chest and shoulders, and the large proportions of his arms and legs, it might be seen that this giant could fearlessly wrestle with a bear. He wore an old pair of blue trousers with red stripes and laced with sheep-skin, a sort of coat, or rather cuirass, of very thick leather, torn in places by the sharp nails of animals. When he reached the floor Goliath unclosed his hooks, opened his mouth, letting his quarter of beef fall on the ground, licked his bloody moustaches with a relish. This sort of animal had, like many other mountebanks, begun by eating raw flesh at fairs to get money from the gaping crowds. Having thus acquired a taste for this cannibal food, and uniting his taste with his interest, he used to preface the display of Morok by eating some pounds of raw flesh in presence of the astonished crowds. MOROK AND GOLIATH. P. l. < li.ipni.in u; THE ARRIVAL. 19 " My share and La Mort's are below ; here's Cain and Judas's allowance," said Goliath, pointing to the piece of beef. " Where's the hatchet ? I want to chop it in two. No preference ; beast or man : let every wesand have its fair share, I say." Then tucking up one of the sleeves of his garment he displayed an arm as hairy as a wolfs skin, and furrowed by veins as thick as a man's thumb. " Now, master, where's the chopper?" he again inquired, looking around him. Instead of replying, the prophet asked him several questions. " Were you below when those new comers entered the inn just now ?" " Yes, master ; I was just coming out of the slaughter-house." " Who are they ?" " Oh, there's two little wenches on a white horse ; there's an old chap with 'em, with long moustaches But the chopper, the ani- mals are terribly hungry, so am I, so where's the chopper ?" " Do you know where they have lodged these travellers ?" " The landlord took the little girls and the old fellow to the bottom of the court-yard." " In the building which looks on to the fields ?" " Yes, master ; but the " Here a concert of fierce roars shook the very floor of the garret and interrupted Goliath. " There now, d'ye hear ?" he exclaimed. " Hunger has made the animals quite furious. If I could roar, I should do so too. I never saw Judas and Cain as they are to-night; they jump about in their cages ready to break 'em. As to La Mort, her eyes shine brighter than ever just like two candles. Poor Mort !" Morok replied, without paying any regard to Goliath's remarks, " The young girls, then, are put in the building at the bottom of the court-yard ?" " Yes, yes ; but for love of the devil, the chopper ! Since Karl was sent away, all the work falls on one, and that makes the feeding- time come later." " And the old man is with the girls ?" Goliath, astonished that, in spite of all his urging, his master did not think of the animals' supper, regarded the prophet with an air of excessive surprise. " Answer me, brute ! " " If I'm a brute, I've a brute's strength," said Goliath, in a sulky tone, " and, brute against brute, I haven't always the worst of it." " I ask you if the old man is with the young girls ?" repeated Morok. " Ah! no," replied the giant, " the old chap, after having led his horse to the stable, asked for a tub and some water, and there he is under the porch, and by the light of a lantern he is soaping away he with grey moustaches, soaping like a washerwoman ! just as if I should be feeding canaries with bird-seed," added Goliath, shrugging his shoulders with contempt. " Now I've answered, master, please let me get the beasts' supper 2Q THE WANDERING JEW. * ready ?" Then looking about him, he added, " But where is the . 0" After a moment's reflection, the prophet said to Goliath, You must not feed the beasts this evening." At first Goliath did not understand, for the very idea was t< incomprehensible. " What do you mean, master? he inquired. ^ " I desire that you will not feed the beasts this evening. Goliath made no reply, but opened his heavy eyes to an immense size, clasped his hands and retreated two steps. "Well, you understand me now, don't you?' said Morok, impa- tientlv. " It's plain enough ; is it not?" "Not to eat when here's the meat, and supper s three hours behind time ?" cried Goliath, in increasing amaze. " Obey, and be silent." " Do you, then, wish some frightful accident to happen to-night? Hunger will render these beasts perfectly furious, and me likewise." " So much the better." " Mad !" All the better." " How all the better ? Why " " Enough !" "But, by the devil's backbone! I am as hungry as the very beasts themselves." " Then eat! Who hinders you ? Your supper is ready, since you eat it raw." " I never eat without my beasts, nor they without me. " Then I repeat, that if you give the animals one taste of food I will dismiss you instantly." Goliath uttered a deep growl about as tuneful and soft as that ot a bear, while he surveyed the prophet with an air at once stupified and wrathful. Morok, having given his orders, continued to pace with hasty strides, though buried in profound reflection ; then, addressing Goliath, who still remained in utter amazement, he said, " You recollect the burgomaster's house, where I went this evening to have my passport signed, and where the wife purchased some little books and a chaplet ?" " Yes, I recollect," answered the giant, surlily. " Go, then, and inquire of the servant if I can depend upon seeing the burgomaster early to-morrow morning." " What for ?" " I may possibly have something of importance to communicate to him. At any rate, say that I particularly beg he will not leave his house to-morrow until I have seen him." " Very well," grumbled out the giant. " But my poor dear beasts you will let me feed them, will you not, before I go to the burgo- master ? Only the Java panther, he is the most famished of all ; just let me give La Mort one little bit, only a mouthful or two be- tween the poor starved brutes, and then master Cain, and myself, and Judas, will wait." THE ARRIVAL. 21 " It is that panther I most particularly desire you to keep with- out one morsel of food. Yes, I tell you, ho more than any other." " By the horns of the devil !" exclaimed Goliath, " what ails you to-day? I can't make you out at all. Pity Karl is not here ; he is so deep and knowing, he would soon find out why you keep the poor starving beasts from having any thing to eat. 1 should be able to un- derstand what reasons you can possibly have." 'There is no need for your understanding." Will not Karl soon be back ?" He has returned." Where is he, then ?" Gone again." 4 What can be going on here ? I am sure there is something. Karl goes returns sets out again and " " But our present business is with you, not with Karl. You, who, though hungry as a wolf, are as cunning as a fox, and, when you please, as deep as Karl himself." With these encouraging words Morok patted the giant on the shoulder with every appearance of friendly zeal, changing his former imperative style info a tone and expression of entire cordiality. Go- liath seemed still more unable to comprehend what his master really meant. At last he opened his great eyes wider than usual and ex- claimed, " Cunning as Karl ! what, I ?" " Come, I will prove it. There arc ten florins to be got to-night, and you will be the cunning, clever fellow who will gain them I am sure you will." " Ah, yes ! as far as that goes I am deep enough," replied the giant, smiling with a stupid and self-satisfied air. " But I say, master, what must one do to gain these ten florins ?" " You will see." 4 ' Is it any thing very difficult?" " You will see. You will begin by going to the burgomaster. But first, ere you depart, light me this brasier," said Morok, pointing with his finger to a small stove. " Yes, master," replied the giant, deriving considerable consolation from the idea of gaining ten florins, though he was made to wait for his supper. " Place this bar of steel in the brasier until it becomes red-hot," added the prophet* " Yes, master." " Leave it in the fire while you go with my message to the burgo- master ; then return and await me here." " Yes, master." " You must also keep a strong fire in the furnace." " Yes, master." Morok took a few steps as though leaving the room, when, chang- ing his purpose, he said, " You told me the man who just arrived here was engaged washing linen under the porch ?" "Yes, master." 22 THE WANDERING JEW. " Forget nothing ; the bar of iron in the fire, the burgomaster, and to return and await my orders here." So saying, the prophet descended the ladder leading from the garret and disappeared. CHAPTER IV. MOROK AND DAGOBEUT. GOLIATH was not mistaken. Dagobert was soaping away with that air of imperturbable gravity which never forsook him. If we consider the habits of a soldier in a campaign, we shall not be astonished at this apparent eccentricity; besides, Dagobert only thought how he was to spare the slender purse of the orphans, and save them from all care, all trouble ; and, therefore, each evening after the day's march, he occupied himself with sundry feminine occupations. Besides, he was not in his apprenticeship ; for often during his campaigns he had very industriously repaired the damage and disorder which a day of battle necessarily brings to the uniform and equipments of a soldier who not only may receive sword-cuts, but must also mend his uniform ; since when the skin is cut, the blade also makes in the garment an unseemly opening. Thus the evening or day after a severe combat, the best soldiers (always known by their extremely neat attire) may be seen drawing from their haversack or portmanteau a small housewife furnished with needles, thread, scissors, and other utilities, in order to go to work at all sorts of mending and repairs, of which the most careful seam- stress might be jealous. We cannot find a better time to explain why the surname of Dagobert was given to Fra^ois Baudoin (the guide to the two orphans), when he was recognised as one of the finest and bravest grenadiers in the Imperial Horse-Guards. There had been a fierce struggle during the day, without any decisive advantage. In the evening the company of which Francois formed one, had been sent on to occupy the ruins of a deserted village : the outposts and sentinels being placed, one half the troopers remained on horseback, whilst the other took some rest and picketed their horses. Our friend had charged amongst the bravest without being- wounded this time, for he only called a remembrancer a deep scratch which a Kaiserlitz had given him in the thigh by a thrust of the bayonet, clumsily delivered. " Scoundrel ! my new breeches !" cried the grenadier, when he saw a wide rent on the thigh of his garment, which he revenged by a heavy down blow of his sabre, which cleft the Austrian's skull. If the grenadier evinced a stoical indifference on the subject of this slight gash on his skin, he was by no means so indifferent to the disastrous wound which his full-dress breeches had sustained. At bivouac the same evening, therefore, he undertook to remedy MOHOK AND DAGOBKRT. 23 this accident; and, drawing his housewife from his pocket and choosing his best thread, best needle, and arming his finger with his thimble, he began his tailor-work by the light of the bivouac fire, having first divested himself of his jack-boots, and (we must confess it) of his breeches too ; he turned the latter wrong side outwards, that he might sew them on the inner side that the stitches should not then be so apparent. This partial dishabille was somewhat contrary to discipline ; but the captain who went the round could not help laughing at the sight of the old soldier, who, gravely seated with his legs under him, his hairy cap on his head, his full uniform on his back, his boots by his side, and his breeches on his knees, was stitching away as coolly as a tailor on his shop-board. Suddenly there was an alarm of musketry, and the videttes replied by crying " To arms ! " " To horse !" cried the captain, in a voice of thunder. In a moment the troopers were in the saddle. The unlucky mender of holes was guide of the first rank, and, having no time to turn his breeches, alas ! he was forced to put them on wrong side outwards, and, without having time to put on his boots, he leaped on his horse. A party of Cossacks, profiting by the shelter of a wood close at hand, had tried to surprise the detachment. The encounter was bloody. Our soldier foamed with rage, for he was very tenacious of his property, and the day was an unlucky one for him, his breeches torn and his boots lost ! and he therefore cut and slashed away with fury, a splendid moonlight lending its aid. All the company were in admiration of the valour of the grenadier, who killed two Cossacks and took an officer prisoner with his own hand. After this skirmish, in which the detachment preserved its position, the captain drew up his men in line to compliment them publicly on their good behaviour. Our man would fain have been without this oration, but was compelled to obey the order. We may imagine the surprise of the captain and his troopers when they saw the tall and stern figure advance at a foot's pace on his horse with his naked feet in his stirrups, and pressing his horse with limbs equally denuded. The captain, much astonished, approached him; but, remembering the soldier's occupation at the instant of the cry to arms, he understood the whole affair. " Ah, ah! old campaigner 1" said he, " you were like King Dago- bert, were you ? you put on your breeches wrong side outwards !" In spite of discipline, ill-repressed shouts of laughter hailed this speech of the captain. Our man, erect in his scat, with his left thumb at the right point of his accurately adjusted bridle, the handle of his sabre leaning on his right thigh, kept his immovable gravity, and, in. iking his half circle, regained his rank without moving his eyelid, after having received the congratulations of his captain. From tluit day forward Francois Baudoin received and retained the surname of Dagobert. Dagobert was then in the porch of the inn, employed in washing, to the great marvel of several beer-drinkers, who, from the taproom in which they were boozing, looked at him with a curious eye. 24 U1K WANDERING JEW. To say truth, it was rather an odd sight. Dagobcrt had taken oil' his grey great-coat, and turned up the sleeves of his shirt ; with a vigorous hand he was rubbing soap into a small pocket-handkerchief spread on a board, one end of which in- clined in a but full of water; on his right arm, tattooed with warlike emblems in red and blue, there were two cicatrices so deep that a finger could be laid in them. The Germans who were drinking beer and smoking their pipes might well be surprised at the singular employment of this tall old man, with long moustaches, bald head, and forbidding look, for the features of Dagobert were harsh and repulsive when he was not in the company of the two young girls. The perpetual notice of which he found himself the object began to annoy him exceedingly, for he thought he was occupied in the simplest employment possible. At this moment the prophet entered the porch : he looked stead- fastly at the soldier for some time, then approaching him he said, in French, and in a somewhat contemptuous tone, " Comrade, it seems that you have not much confidence in the washerwomen of Mockern ?" Dagobert, without ceasing from his washing, frowned, turned his head half round, cast a peculiar look at the prophet, but made him no answer. Surprised at his silence, Morok said, " I am not mistaken, you are a Frenchman, my fine fellow ; the words tattooed in your arm prove that, and your military figure testifies that you are an old soldier of the empire; I think, then, that for a hero you end rather with the distaff." Dagobert remained still silent, but he bit his moustache with his teeth, and squeezed tightly a bit of soap with which he was washing the pocket-handkerchief; for the countenance and air of the tamer of beasts were displeasing to him, though he was unwilling to shew his prejudice. Nothing abashed, the prophet continued, " I am sure, my fine fellow, that you are neither deaf nor dumb, why, then, do you not answer me ?" Dagobert, losing patience, turned round abruptly, looked Morok full in the face, and said, with a brutal tone, " I do not know you I do not wish to know you let me be quiet ;" and he resumed his occupation. " But we may make acquaintance by drinking a glass of Rhenish wine together. We can talk of our campaigns, for I have seen the wars myself, I can tell you, and that, perhaps, may make you a little more civil." The veins in Dagobert's bald forehead swelled almost to bursting : he saw in the look and tone of this impertinent intruder the desire and intention to provoke him, still he restrained himself. " I ask you why you will not drink a cup of wine with me, whilst we have a talk about France. I was there once for a long time, and a beautiful country it is. When I meet with a Frenchman any where I am delighted particularly if he uses soap as skilfully as you do ; if I kept a housekeeper I should certainly send her to you to take a few lessons." The sarcastic accent was no longer disguised, insolence and bravado DAGOBERT WASHING. London : Chapman anJ Hall. April 1. lH4j. MOUOK AND DAGOBERT. 25 were openly displayed in the impertinent demeanour and tone of the prophet. Dagobert, perceiving that with such an opponent the quarrol might become serious, and desiring under every provocation to avoid it, lifted his tub in his arms, and betook himself to the other end of the porch, hoping by this expedient to put an end to a scene which tried his forbearance to the uttermost. The savage eyes of the tamer of beasts sparkled with pleasure. The white ring which encircled his eyeballs seemed to expand, and, thrusting his crooked fingers twice or thrice into his long and cane- coloured beard with a gesture of satisfaction, he again approached the soldier, accompanied by two or three idle gapers from the tap- room. In spite of his natural phlegm, Dagobert, surprised and annoyed at the impertinent attack of the prophet, had hastily resolved to knock him down with the piece of wood he held in his hand, but when he remembered the orphan girls he curbed his irritable feeling. Morok crossing his arms on his chest, said to him, in a dry and insolent tone, " Most assuredly you are not a very polite person, man of soap !" then turning to the grinning bystanders, he continued in German, " I was saying to this Frenchman with long moustachios that he is by no means polite, we shall see what his reply will be ; it may be requisite; to give him a lesson, though Heaven preserve me from being quarrel- some," he added, with affected compunction ; " but the Lord has enlightened me, I am His work, and out of respect to Him I must make His work respected." This mystic and daring peroration was very much to the taste of the listeners. The prophet's reputation had reached as far as Mockern, and as they were anxiously awaiting his exhibition on the morrow, they relished this prelude the more strongly. When Dagobert heard this provocation on the part of his adversary, he could not refrain from saying, in German, " I understand German ; so go on in German, and they will know what you say." Other spectators now arrived, and so great interest was excited that they formed a circle around the two principal actors in this scene. The prophet replied in German, " I said you were not polite, and I can say that you are grossly impertinent. What iyour reply to this ?" " Nothing," said Dagobert, as he began busily to soap another article of linen. " Nothing," replied Morok, " that's concise enough; but I'll be as brief as himself, and I tell you that when an honest man foolishly offers a glass of wine to a stranger, that that stranger has no right to make an insolent retort, and deserves that he should be taught a sharp lesson in the art of good manners." Heavy drops of perspiration streamed down the forehead and cheeks of Dagobert, his massy imperial moved up and down with nervous excitement ; but he still commanded his temper, and taking the two ends of the handkerchief, which he had rinsed in the water, he shook it, then twisted it to squeeze out the water, and began to hum the old campaigning song : 26 THE WANDERING JEW. " Do Tirlemont, tandion du diable, Nous partirons demaiu matin, Le sabre en main Pisunt adieu a," &c. &c. (We suppress the end of the couplet, which is rather too free for any place beyond the barrack-room.) The silence which Dagobert prescribed to himself had half-choked him, but this ditty was a kind of safety-valve for him. Morok, turn- ing towards the spectators, said to them, with an air of hypocritical restraint, " We know very well that the soldiers of Napoleon were heathens, who stabled their horses in churches, who offended the Lord a hundred times a-day, and who were justly rewarded by being drowned and destroyed in the Beresina, like the Pharaohs of old ; but we did not know that the Lord, to punish these miscreants, had deprived them of their only quality, their courage! Here is a man who, in me, has insulted a creature touched by the grace of God, and he pretends that he does not understand that I require an apology at his hands ; or if not " " If not," said Dagobert, without looking at the prophet. " If not, you shall give me satisfaction. I told you that I, too, have been in the wars. We can find somewhere a couple of sabres, and to-morrow morning, at daybreak, behind some wall, we may discover the colour of each other's blood that is, if you have any in your veins." This open declaration of hostility began somewhat to frighten the spectators, who had not expected so tragic a finale. "You fight? What an idea!" exclaimed one; "Why, you'll both get locked up the laws against duelling are very severe." " Especially with persons of low rank or strangers," added an- other. " If you are taken, weapon in hand, the burgomaster will put you in the cage, and you will have two or three months' imprisonment before sentence is passed on you." " Are you, then, the persons to go and inform against us ?" asked Morok. " No, certainly not," said the citizens ; " do as you wish we only advise you as friends ; but do as you like, it's no affair of ours." " What do I care for a prison?" exclaimed the prophet. " Only let me find a couple of swords, and to-morrow morning shall shew whether or not I care for what the burgomaster may say or do." " What are you going to do with two swords?" coolly inquired Dagobert of the prophet. " When you have one in your hand, and I have the other in mine, you shall see. The Lord requires that His honour be re- garded !" Dagobert shrugged his shoulders, put his linen all together in a handkerchief, dried his piece of soap, packed it carefully in a little oil-skin bag, then whistling between his teeth his favourite rondeau of Tirlemont, he made a step forward. The prophet frowned he began to fear that his provocation was ineffectual. He advanced a couple of paces towards Dagobert, stood MOROK AND DAGOBERT. 27 direct before him as though to bar his progress, then folding his arms across his chest and measuring him, with an insolent air, from head to foot, he said, " So then an old soldier of that brigand, Napoleon, is only fit to be a washerwoman he refuses to fight." " Yes, he refuses to fight," replied Dagobert, with a firm voice, but turning deathly pale. The old soldier had never yet given to the orphans confided to his guardianship so striking a proof of his tender- ness and devotion. For a man of his temper to allow himself to be insulted with impunity, and to refuse to fight, was an incalculable sacrifice. " Then you are a coward you are afraid and you confess it " At this word, Dagobert made, if we may use the expression, a mental summersault, as though, when at the instant he was about to spring at the prophet, a sudden thought had restrained him. He thought at the moment of the two young girls, and the fearful consequences which a duel, whether fortunate or unfortunate for him individually, must entail on their journey. But this moment of anger in the soldier, rapid as it was, was so significant the expression of his rude features, pale and bathed in sweat, was so terrible that the prophet and the lookers-on receded a step. A perfect silence reigned for several seconds, and then, by a sudden revulsion, a general feeling arose in Dagobert's favour. One of the bystanders said to those near him, " I don't believe the man is a coward !" "No more don't I!" " It sometimes requires more courage to refuse a challenge than to fight a duel." "And the prophet was wrong to try and provoke him; he's a stranger." " And if a stranger fights and gets apprehended, he would have a long imprisonment." " And then," added another, " he's travelling with two young girls, and that's a reason why he should not fight. If he were killed, or taken prisoner, what would become of those poor children, I should like to know?" Dagobert turned to the individual who uttered these words, and saw a stout man with a free, good-tempered countenance. The soldier held out his hand to him, and said in a tone of emotion, " Thank you, sir !" The German cordially shook the hand which Dagobert extended to him. " Sir," he added, still retaining his grasp of the veteran's hand, "do this : accept of a bowl of punch with us, and we will compel this devil of a prophet to confess that he has been too hasty, and to pledge you in a bumper." Up to this time the tamer of beasts, giving up in despair his idea of provoking the soldier to fight, had scowled sulkily on those who had forsaken him, but now his features gradually cleared up; and thinking 28 -1111 '.VANDEniNG JEW. it most serviceable to his projects to conceal his discomfiture, he made a step towards the soldier, and said to him with an air of composure and easy u^u ranee, " Well, be it so. I accede to the proposition of these gentlemen, and confess I was wrong. Your behaviour wounded me, and I was not master of myself. I repeat I was wrong," he added, with ill- disguised rage ; " the Lord commands humility, and I request your pardon." This testimony of moderation and repentance was greatly applauded, and highly appreciated by the spectators. " He asks your pardon, and now you can't bear him any spite, man brave," said one of the party, addressing Dagobert. " Come and take a glass with him. We offer you the bowl with good-will, and you should accept it as heartily." " Yes ! accept it, we beg of you, in the name of your pretty little maidens," said the stout man, wishing Dagobert to comply. He, much moved by the candid advances of the Germans, replied, ' Thanks, gentlemen ; you are very kind. But when a man accepts a cup, he must offer one in his turn." "To be sure, and we'll do so with pleasure, every one in his turn ; that's the right thing. We'll pay the first bowl, and you the second." " Poverty is not vice," replied Dagobert ; " and so I tell you fairly that I have not the means of offering- you a bowl in my turn. We have yet a long journey before us, and I must not lay out an unneces- sary farthing." The soldier said these words with so much simple but firm dignity, that the Germans did not venture to press their offer, understanding that a man of Dagobert's character could not accept without humilia- tion. " Ah ! well, I'm sorry," said the stout man. " I should have liked to have had a glass with you very much ; but, as it is, good night, my brave boy good night. It is growing late, and the landlord of the White Falcon will be for turning us out." " Good night, gentlemen," said Dagobert, going towards the stables to give his horse his second feed. Morok approached him, and said in a tone of extreme humility, " I own how much I was in the wrong, and I have asked your pardon. You have not replied. Are you still incensed against me ?" " If we should meet again some day, when my children do not need my protection," said the old soldier in a deep and suppressed voice, " I will have two words with you, and they shall not be long ones." So saying, he turned his back abruptly on the prophet, who slowly left the courtyard. The inn of the White Falcon formed a parallelogram. At one extremity was the main building, at the other some smaller buildings, containing several apartments let out at low prices to poor wayfarers. A vaulted passage was formed in the centre of these latter which looked on to the country. On each side of the courtyard were stables and sheds, over which were granaries and lofts. MOROK AND DAGOBERT. 29 Dagobert, going into one of the stables, took from a bin a measure of oats ready for his horse, and pouring it into a sieve, shook it as he approached Jovial. To his extreme astonishment, his old travelling companion did not reply by his accustomed joyful whining at hearing the oats in the sieve. He was amazed, and spake to Jovial in his usual amicable tone ; but the good beast, instead of turning to his master with his intelligent eye, and pawing, as usual, with his feet, remained motion- less. Still more astonished, the soldier went up to him. By the dim light of a stable lantern he saw the poor animal in a state which betokened extreme fear his limbs crouched, his head in the air, his ears bent back, his nostrils expanded, whilst his halter was stretched out to its full length as though he sought to break it in order to escape from the partition to which his rack and manger were affixed ; a cold and excessive sweat soaked through his light blue body-cloth, and his coat, instead of being silky and mottled in the dim light of the stable, stood on end stiff and bristly, whilst every now and then his whole frame was shaken as if in convulsions. " Soh ! soh ! old Jovial," said the trooper, putting the sieve on the ground to pat his horse : " what, afraid, like your master," he added, with a bitter tone, suggested by his recent insult ; " what, frightened, boy, frightened you, who are not usually a coward ! " Despite the caresses and voice of his master, the steed continued to evince signs of fright. However, his halter became less extended, and he smelled Dagobert's hand with hesitation, snorting violently, as if doubting his master's identity. " What ! don't you know me! " exclaimed Dagobert : " then some- thing very wonderful must have happened." And the old soldier gazed about him with much uneasiness. The stable was spacious, dark, and but dimly lighted by a lantern hanging from the ceiling, richly festooned with accumulated and iindis- turbed cobwebs. At the other end, and separated from Jovial by some places marked with bars, ware the three powerful black horses of the trainer of beasts, who were as quiet as Jovial was trembling and affrighted. Dagobert, struck by the singular contrast (soon to be explained), again patted and encouraged his horse, who, gradually reassured by the presence of his master, licked his hands, rubbed his head against him, and evinced a thousand other tokens of attachment. ' Come, come, old man that's right that's the way I like to see you, my loving Jovial," said Dagobert, taking up the sieve and pouring its contents into the manger. " Come, boy, eat eat, for we have a long march before us to-morrow. I mustn't have these foolish fancies and frights. If Killjoy were here, he would give you courage ; but he is up in the room with the children : he is their guardian in my absence. Come, eat, and don't keep looking at me so." But the good steed, after having moved his oats about with his lips, as though to obey his master, could not eat them, but began to nibble the sleeve of Dagobert's great-coat. " Jovial, my poor fellow, there's something wrong with you, who generally pick up your feed with so much good-will and appetite ! 30 THE WANDERING JEW. What ! leave your oats, and for the first time that that has occurred since we started ! " The veteran said this with an air of real anxiety, for the result of his journey depended very much on the vigour and health of his horse. A horrid roar, so near that it seemed to issue from the very stable, so completely frightened Jovial that, with one snap, he broke the halter, leaped over the bar of his stall, and, reaching the open door, bounded out into the court-yard. Dagobert himself could not repress a start at this sudden, deep, and savage howl, which accounted for the terror of his horse. The next stable, occupied by the perambulating menagerie of the trainer of beasts, was only separated by the partition wall to which the manger was attached, the prophet's three horses, used to these roar- ings, remained perfectly tranquil. " Ah, ah," said the soldier, reassured, " now I find what it is. No doubt Jovial had before heard these roars. He smelt the animals of that impudent vagabond, and they were quite enough to frighten him," added the veteran, carefully gathering up the oats from the manger. " Once in another stable and there ought to be some empty ones he will not leave his feed, and we will make an early move of it in the morning." The affrighted charger having run and jumped about the court- yard, came up to his master at his call, and Dagobert, taking him by his headstall, led him to another single-stall stable, which a hostler pointed out to him, and there Jovial was comfortably installed. Once removed from his vicinity to the wild beasts, the old horse became tranquillised, and even frisked a little at the expense of Dago- bert's great-coat, who, thanks to these small jokes, had a job in the tailoring line cut out for him that very night if he so pleased ; but he was only engaged in admiring the alacrity witli which Jovial ate his provender. Completely recovered, the soldier shut the door of the stable, and hastened to his supper, that he might rejoin the orphans, reproaching himself with having left them so long alone. CHAPTER V. ROSE AND BLANCHE. THE orphans occupied, in the most distant part of the inn, a small dilapidated chamber, whose only window looked out on the country ; a bed without curtains, a table, and two chairs, completed the more than scanty furnishing of the humble apartment, lighted only by a small lamp ; on the table near the casement was deposited the wallet of Dagobert. The huge Siberian dog, Killjoy, stretched at the en- trance-door, had already uttered several deep angry growls, without any further manifestation of impending danger. The sisters, partially reclining on their lowly pallet, were clad in "Ill ' ROSE AND BLANCHE. p. n. London: Chapman *nd Hall. March I, Is-t.'i ROSE AWD BLANCHE. 31 long white wrapping gowns, fastened at the neck and wrists. They wore no covering on their heads, save a broad fillet, which confined their rich chestnut hair and prevented the long flowing tresses from disturb- ing their slumbers. Their snowy vestments, with the white circlet round their brows, gave to the young and innocent countenances of the sisters a still greater charm. Spite of their early troubles, the orphans prattled merrily, with all the light-heartedness of their age ; for though the loss of their beloved mother occasionally sent a gloom over their countenances, it was still a pensive sorrow they rather sought than avoided : to their tender, loving imaginations their adored parent was not dead (for death was beyond their comprehension), but merely absent for a time. Almost as ignorant as Dagobert of religious forms (for, in the wilderness in which they had dwelt, there was neither priest nor sacred edifice), they yet firmly believed, as they had been told, that a merciful, gracious God, beholding from afar the heart-stricken grief of a mother compelled to leave her dear children on earth, would from on high permit her to behold them, and to hear their voices, and still farther, bestow on her the blessed privilege of for ever watching, like a guardian angel, over her cherished ones. Thanks to this simple yet pure illusion, the orphans, persuaded that their mother incessantly beheld them, would have died rather than, by word or deed, have pained their idolised parent, or induced an indulgent Deity to withdraw from them her watchful care. And this train of reasoning formed the whole stock of theological knowledge possessed by Rose and Blanche, but which was in itself abundantly sufficient to satisfy their innocent and affectionate souls. Such as we have described them, the two sisters were discoursing together while awaiting the return of Dagobert. Their conversation was deeply interesting, for it referred to a matter of deep interest. Moreover, a secret so weighty and important as to quicken from time to time the pulsations of their young hearts, cause their tender bosoms to heave with a hasty throb, and send a deeper colour to their delicate cheeks, while a thoughtful and uneasy languor weighed down the lids of their clear blue eyes. Rose, on this occasion, occupied the outer side of the bed. Her fair rounded arms were placed beneath her head, which was half turned towards her sister, who, leaning on her elbow and smiling sweetly, inquired, ' Do you think he will come again to-night ?" ' Oh, yes ! for yesterday, you know, he promised it." ' And he is too good to forget his promise." ' And so handsome, too, with those beautiful light curls ! " ' And so sweet a name, just suited to himself! Is it not, dear sister?" " Oh, quite ! Did you ever see so charming a smile ? With how kind and tender a voice he spoke when, taking a hand of each, he said, ' My children, bless God for having bestowed on you one mind ! That which others seek elsewhere, you will always find within your- selves; because,' added he, 'you are one heart in two bodies.' " " Dear sister, how glad I am we can so perfectly recollect every little word he said ! " 32 THE WANDERING JEW. " We could not fail doing so, when we each listened so eagerly and attentively; and when you, dear sister, were listening to his discourse, it seemed to me as though my ears, too, drank in his charm- ing words," said Rose, smiling, and affectionately kissing the forehead of Blanche ; " and when he spoke, your eyes, or rather our eyes, were wide, wide open, and our lips moved, as though repeating each word after him. So how could we possibly lose one dear word ?" " Words, too, so noble so generous so beautifully spoken!" " And did you not find, dearest sister, that while he spoke our hearts expanded within our bosoms as though scarcely large enough to contain all the great and virtuous thoughts that filled them, as though intended to remain there for our future meditation and delightful converse ? " " Ah, yes ! not one precious counsel will be forgotten ; no word but will be safely harboured in our hearts, like young birds in the soft nest of their mother." ' How delightful it is, Rose, that he should equally love us both !" " Nay, my Blanche, it could not be otherwise, there being but one heart one love between us. How could he love Rose without her Blanche?" " Or what would have become of the poor rejected one ?" " And besides, imagine the impossibility of choosing between us ! " " We are so exactly alike ! " " So to spare himself so difficult a task," said Rose, smiling, " he has very wisely selected us both ! " " And most wisely, too ; for now he has but one to love, while he has two to love him ! " " Let us hope he will not depart from us ere we reach Paris ! " " Paris! Surely we shall see him there, also ?" " No.doubt ; for 'tis there his presence will be doubly dear. And with him and Dagobert oh! my sister, how happy shall we be in that fine city!" " We shall, indeed ! I picture Paris to myself as all built with gold and glittering with precious stones ! " " Then, since "it is so beautiful a place, all who dwell there must needs be happy?" " And then, sister, I almost fear that two poor orphans such as we are will not be permitted to enter it. How shall we venture to look all these great and rich people in the face ?" " But, my sister, don't you think that since every one in Paris is so happy, they must also be as good and kind ?" " Oh, yes ! And they will love us as we shall love them ! " " And besides, we shall have our dear friend with the light hair and blue eyes to advise and encourage us!" " He has not yet mentioned Paris to us !" " Probably it did not occur to him. However, we'll speak of it to him to-night." " If he seems inclined to converse not else ; for often, you know, he appears to fix his eyes steadfastly upon us, and continue to gaze as though he were filled with deep thought that shut out conversation." " And at these moments there is an indescribable something about him which reminds me of our adored mother." EOSE AND BLANCHE. 33 " And since that beloved parent sees from above all that befalls us, how delighted must she be at what has occurred !" " Because we should not be loved as we arc if we did not de- serve it." " Little vain thing!" said Blanche, putting back with her delicate fingers a braid of her sister's rich chestnut hair which had escaped from its simple bandeau, then, gravely reflecting for a few minutes, she added, " Sister dear! do you not think we ought to communicate to Da- gobert all that has happened ?" " By all means, if you consider it right." " Yes, we will tell him the whole affair as though we were relating it to our mother ; why should we conceal any thing from him ?" " Especially a matter which affords us both such happiness." " Have you not fancied since we first saw our dear friend that our hearts have beaten with a quicker and more powerful pulsation ?" " Indeed I have, as though they were too small to contain the crowd of pleasing thoughts which now possess them." " And because our dear friend occupies so large a place in them." " So, then, we will inform Dagobert of all our good fortune ; will it not be best, dear sister?" " Much best and quite right, since you think so." At this moment the dog growled a deep note of approaching danger. " Sister," said Rose, closely pressing towards Blanche, " what can cause the dog to growl in this unusual manner ?" " Kill-joy, be quiet! leave off scolding, and come here!" ex- claimed Blanche, patting the side of the bed with her small hand. The dog arose, and, still growling angrily, came and placed his great intelligent-looking head on the counterpane, still keeping his eyes obstinately fixed on the window. The sisters, by way of calming his uneasiness, leaned towards him, and patted and caressed his large forehead, in the middle of which rose the protuberance denoting the fine race from which he derived his origin. " What is the matter, my poor fellow?" said Blanche, softly smoothing down his great ears; "what makes you growl so, eh, Kill-joy ?" " Poor thing ! he always frets when Dagobert is away." " Yes, so he does ; he appears to know that he has then a double watch to keep." " Dagobert seems away longer than usual this evening, does he not, sister ?" " He is attending to Jovial, no doubt." " And that reminds me we forgot to bid our accustomed ' good- night' to our faithful Jovial." " So we did ; I am very sorry." " Dear old horse ! he always seems so pleased to see us, and licks our hands so kindly ; he appears as though thanking us for going to see him the last thing." " Fortunately Dagobert will be sure to bid him good-night for us." "Good, excellent Pagobert! ahyaya thinking of us he quite 3. 5 34 THE WANDERING JEW. spoils us, and makes us idle. We do nothing, while he is always toiling." " But how can we possibly hinder him ?" " What a pity we are not rich that we might obtain him a little rest !" "Ah! dear sister, we shall never have that happiness, we are poor orphans, and must ever remain so." " But our medal?" " Has no doubt some great power attached to it, otherwise we should not have undertaken this long journey." " Dagobert has promised to tell us all this evening." Ere the young girl could proceed two panes of glass in their win- dow were dashed to pieces with a loud noise. The orphans, screaming with affright, threw themselves into each others' arms, while the dog, barking furiously, rushed towards the broken casement. Pale, speechless, and trembling, holding each other in a convul- sive grasp, the sisters scarcely ventured to breathe, while the dog, standing erect, his forepaws resting on the window-sill, barked in the most angry and determined manner. The two sisters, whose extreme terror prevented their even venturing to look towards the scene of alarm, at length found words to exclaim, " What can this be? why is not Dagobert here to save and to protect us ? " All at once Rose, seizing the arm of Blanche, exclaimed, " Sister ! listen ! some person is ascending the staircase ! " "That it is not Dagobert's step, it is far too heavy. Hark! how heavily it comes ! " " Here, here, Kill-joy! my good dog come to us save us ! save us ! " cried the sisters, in an agony of terror. Steps of extraordinary heaviness were heard slowly ascending the wooden stairs, which creaked beneath the ponderous body they could barely support, and then ^\ singular species of rustling was heard along the slight partition which separated their chamber from the staircase, till a heavy weight, falling against their door, shook it vio- lently, and threatened destruction to the frail materials of which it was composed. Terrified beyond the power of uttering a word, the two poor girls mutely sought in each other's looks a gleam of hope or comfort. At this instant the door opened, and Dagobert entered. At his welcome sight Blanche and Rose embraced each other as though all danger were over. "What has disturbed you, my children? why this alarm?" in- quired the soldier, with extreme surprise. "Oh!" said Rose, almost gasping for breath, " if you did but know " " Yes," interrupted Blanche, who could distinctly feel the rapid throb of her sister's heart keep pace with the troubled beat of her own, " if you only knew what has just happened ! We did not recog- nise your step just now it seemed far too heavy; and then that noise against the wainscot." " \\'liy, you frightened little dears! I could not ascend the stair- case with the lightness of fifteen years, having my bed to carry up ROSE AND BLANCHE. 35 with me, that is to say a palliasse, which I have just thrown down at your door, intending to take up my lodging there as usual." "To be sure!" said Rose, looking at Blanche, "that was it! How very stupid of us not to think it must be you carrying your bed !" And with this satisfactory conclusion of their terrors the counte- nance of each of the fair girls reassumed the bright colour which ap- peared to have quite forsaken their cheeks. During this scene the dog neither quitted his position at the window, nor ceased his incessant and furious barking. "What makes Kill-joy bark so, my children?" inquired the old soldier. " Indeed, we cannot tell you ; some one has broken two squares of glass, which was the beginning of our alarm." Without answering a word, Dagobert hastened to the window, opened it quickly, pushed back the curtains, and looked out. Nothing was to be seen or heard, a darkness like that of night prevailed. He listened attentively ; all, however, was still, save the dull sobbing of the night wind. He called the dog, " Out there, old fellow !" cried he, shewing the window, " out and search diligently ! look into every corner!" The noble animal, obedient to his word and animated by his voice, cleared at one bound the distance from the ground, which could not have been less than eight feet, and disappeared through the open space, while Dagobert, still looking out, excited his dog, both by speech and gesture, to keep up the search. " Go seek ! go seek, my fine fellow ! and if you find any one, hold him tight, your teeth are strong enough to hold a lion, don't let go till I come." But Kill-joy found no one. Still he ran to and fro, as though on the scent of something that had not long since passed, and occasionally uttering a half-suppressed cry like that of a dog who is hunting game, and begins to hope he is on the track. " There is no one then, old boy, I am sure, for if there had been, you would have pinned them to the earth ere this." Then turning to the young girls, who were following his move- ments and listening to his words with an expression of uneasiness, he exclaimed, " And how were these squares of glass broken, my children ? were you able to see ? " " No, indeed, Dagobert, we were conversing together when sud- denly the glass fell into the room with a loud noise." "It seemed to me," added Rose, " as though a shutter had slammed against them violently." Dagobert closely examined the outer shutter or latticed blind, and discovered a long projecting hook intended for the purpose of fasten- ing it withinside. " The wind is high to-night," said he, " and has most probably blown this shutter forcibly against the glass, which has been broken by the iron handle. Yes, yes, that must be it ; besides, what interest can any person have in doing such a piece of mischief?" Then 36 THE WANDERING JEW. speaking to Kill-joy, he added, " Come in, my brave fellow, there is nobody there, is there ?" The dog replied by a low growl, interpreted by the old soldier in the negative, as he immediately answered, " Then take one round and examine every part of the premises, then come back, your door will be open ready for your return, so away with you ! " The sagacious dog, perfectly comprehending the directions given to him, departed upon his mission after once more sniffing eagerly at the window-sill, then ran off to reconnoitre the buildings, both inside and out. " Come, my children," said the soldier, returning to the orphans, " don't be alarmed." " It was only the wind," said Blanche, smiling. " But it frightened us sadly, good Dagobert, it did, indeed," added Rose. " I dare say it did, but I must close up that opening, the wind will blow in else," said the soldier, turning towards the broken window. After looking about for some time for the means of remedying the mischief, he bethought himself of the pelisse of reindeer-skin, which he suspended by means of the iron rod which crossed the casement, and with the thick skirts hermetically stopped the opening made by the broken glass. " Thank you ! thank you ! kind Dagobert, but we were so un- easy at not seeing you sooner." " Yes, indeed, Dagobert! you stayed away this time longer than usual." Then for the first time perceiving the paleness and agitation of the old man, whose countenance still evinced traces of the powerful ex- citement produced by his late rencontre with Morok, Rose con- tinued, " But what has been the matter ? How very pale you are !" "Me! my children? Oh nothing nothing. What can possibly ail me?" " Yes, indeed, dear Dagobert, something is wrong with you ! your countenance is quite altered. My sister is right surely you are not ill?" " My dear children," said the old soldier, with considerable em- barrassment, for falsehood was a hard task with him, "you may be assured nothing whatever ails me, or has occurred;" then, as if he had found a capital pretext for his disturbed looks, he added, " Or if, indeed, there be any thing the matter, it is simply my uneasiness at finding you so much alarmed, because it has all happened through me." " Through you ? Oh no, Dagobert ! " " Yes, if I had not lingered so over my supper, I should have been with you when the glass was broken, and have prevented your ex- periencing the degree of terror it caused you." " Then don't let us think any more about it. And will you not sit down, dear Dagobert ?" " Yes, my children ; for we have much to talk about," replied the MUTUAL CONFIDENCE. 37 old man, drawing a chair beside the lowly pillow of the sisters. " Now, then, are you quite awake?" said he, trying by an affectation of gaiety to dispel their recent agitation. " Let me see whether those large eyes are quite open or not." " Look, Dagobert, look !" said the sisters, smiling in their turn, and opening their blue eyes full upon him. " That will do, young ladies !" said Dagobert ; " but we must not talk too long ; however, it is scarcely nine o'clock at present." " We have something also to tell you, Dagobert," replied Rose, after having consulted her sister's countenance. "Indeed!" " Yes, something to tell you in great confidence ! " " In great confidence !" " Yes, indeed, we have !" " A secret of the most important description," added Rose, with a serious look and manner. " And one which concerns us both most nearly," rejoined Blanche. "To be sure," answered the soldier; " don't I know that what con- cerns one concerns the other equally ? Are you not always two faces under a hood?" " Yes, when you cover our two heads with the large hood of the fur pelisse, then we are indeed," said Rose, laughing merrily. " Why, you little mocking-birds, you never let an old man get the last word. But now, then, for this great secret, since a secret there is." " Speak, sister," said Blanche, " No, no, young lady, do you tell the tale. You are to-day com- mander of the platoon and senior officer, and therefore so important a matter as the great secret you have to disclose devolves by right on you. Now, then, begin. I am all attention," said the old soldier, striving by an appearance of jocularity to conceal from his young charges how sorely his chafed spirit still writhed beneath the aggrava- tions bestowed on him by the brute-conqueror Morok. Thus directed, Rose as leader of the squadron, as Dagobert styled her, thus spoke for her sister and self. CHAPTER VI. MUTUAL CONFIDENCE. " Now, dear good Dagobert," said Rose, with an air of charming ingenuousness, " as we are going to tell you a very great secret, you must first promise us that you will not be angry." " Yes, yes," added Blanche, in a tone equally deprecatory, ' you must not scold your children, will you ?" "Granted," replied Dagobert, gravely, "because I should not know how to do it even if I were so inclined ; but what is there to be angry about ? " 38 THE WANDERING JEW. " Why, perhaps, we ought to have told you before what we are going to inform you of now." " Listen, my dears," replied Dagobert, sententiously, after having turned over in his mind for a moment this case of conscience, " one of two things must be; either you are right or wrong in concealing any thing from me. If you are right, why, so it is ; if you are wrong, why, it's done, and there's an end on't let's say no more about it. Now, I am all attention." Entirely set at ease in their minds by this luminous decision, Rose and her sister exchanged a smile, and the former resumed, " Dagobert, only imagine that for two nights following we have had a visit." " A visit !" and the soldier drew himself up erect in his chair. " Yes, a delightful visit ; for he is fair." " What the d 1 ! He is fair!" exclaimed Dagobert, starting up suddenly. "Fair, with blue eyes," added Blanche. The deuce ! and blue eyes, too ;" and Dagobert again started. ' Yes, blue eyes as large as that," said Rose, placing the end of the forefinger of her right hand in the middle of the forefinger of her left hand. " But, morbleu ! if they were as large as this," and the veteran held out his arm from his elbow to his wrist, ' if they were as large as this, that would be nothing ; but a fair man with blue eyes, ah, young ladies, what does that signify ? " and Dagobert rose from his seat, evidently greatly disturbed and disquieted. " Ah ! now, Dagobert, you see you are angry directly." " And this is only the beginning," added Blanche. " The beginning what is there more ? is there an end to it ?" " An end ? oh, we hope not yet ; " and Rose laughed very heartily. " All we hope is, that it may last for ever," added Blanche, joining in her sister's mirth. Dagobert looked at them in turns with a most serious air, in order to find, if possible, some clue to this enigma, but when he saw their lovely countenances animated only by open and joyous laughter, he reflected that they could not be so mirthful if they had any serious reproach to make against themselves, and he at once abandoned every thought but that of being glad to see the orphans so gay and happy in their very precarious position, and said, "^ Laugh, laugh away, my loves, I like to see you laugh in this way." Then reflecting that, perhaps, that was not precisely the reply which he ought to make to the singular recital of the young maidens, he added, in a serious voice, " I like to see you laugh, certainly, yes but not when you receive fair visitors with blue eyes, mesdemoiselles ; come, come, tell me at once, that you are jesting with me you have got up some little joke between you haven't you ? " " No ! what we have told you is quite true." " You know we never told you a falsehood," added Rose. "True, true, indeed, they never tell untruths," said the soldier, whose perplexity was thus renewed ; " but how the d 1 are such visits possible? I sleep on the threshold outside your room door, MUTUAL CONFIDENCE. 39 Kill-joy sleeps under your window, and all the blue eyes and chestnut hair in the world cannot enter but by the door or the window, and if they had attempted, why, Kill-joy and I should have given them a welcome in our peculiar way. But, come now, my children, tell me at once, and without any jesting pray, explain this to me." The two sisters seeing, by the expression of Dagobert's features, that he was suffering under real uneasiness, resolved not to prolong his disquietude, and exchanging glances, Rose took into her own little hands the coarse broad palm of the veteran, and said, " Well, then, you shall not be teased any longer. We will tell you all about the visits of our friend of Gabriel " " What, are you beginning again ? He has a name, has he ?" " Certainly he has, and it is Gabriel." " What a pretty name, isn't it, Dagobert? Oh, you will see him, and love our beautiful Gabriel as much as we do." " I shall love your Gabriel ?" said the veteran, shaking his head, ' I shall love your beautiful Gabriel ? Why, that's as may be ; but I must know him first." Then interrupting himself, " But it's very singular ; it reminds me of something." " Of what, Dagobert ?" " Why, fifteen years ago, in the last letter that your father brought me from my wife, when he returned from France, she told me, that poor as she was, and although she had then one little boy, Agricola, in arms (though he was growing fast), that she had received and was bringing up a poor little infant who had been forsaken ; that it had a face like a cherub, and was named Gabriel ; and it is not very long ago that I had some news about him." " From whom ?" " You shall know all in good time." " Well, then, you see, as you have a Gabriel of your own, that's the very reason why you should love our Gabriel." " Yours yours let me see yours ; I sit on burning coals." " You know, Dagobert," replied Rose, " that Blanche and 1 always go to sleep, holding each other by the hand." " Yes, yes, I have seen you so a hundred times in your cradle. I was never tired of looking at you so; you looked so good und nice." " Well, two nights ago we were sleeping so calm we saw " " It was a dream, then !" exclaimed Dagobert. " If you were asleep, it must have been a dream." " To be sure it was a dream. What else could you think it was ?" " Let my sister go on." " To be sure, to be sure," said the soldier, with a sigh of extreme satisfaction. " Certainly, in every respect 1 felt quite assured in my own mind ; because, you see but it is quite as 1 wished a dream. I am glad it was a dream. But go on, my little Rose." " As soon as we were both asleep, we had the same dream." " What ! both ? What ! each the same dream ?" " Yes, Dagobert; for the next morning, when we awoke, we told each other what we had both dreamed." " And both had dreamed alike." 40 THE WANDERING JEW. " Really! Well, it is very extraordinary, my dears; and what w;is this dream about?" " NVhy, in this dream, Blanche and I were sitting beside each other, and there came to us a beautiful angel with a long white robe, chestnut hair, blue eyes, and a countenance so beautiful and so kind, that we joined our hands together as though to pray to it. Then it told us, iii a sweet soft voice, that its name was Gabriel, and that our mother had sent it to us to be our guardian-angel, and that it would never forsake us." " And then," added Blanche, " taking one of each of our hands into one of its own, and bending its beautiful face towards us, it looked at us for a very long time in silence, and very, very kindly so kindly, indeed, that we could not take away our eyes from his." " Yes," resumed Rose, " and it seemed as if every moment his look was more benign and went to our very heart. Then, to our great mortification, Gabriel left us, saying, that the next night we should see him again." " And did he appear the next night?" " To be sure, and you may judge how anxious we were to go to sleep that we might learn whether or no our friend would return to us during our slumber." " Umph ! that reminds me, mesdemoiselles, that you rubbed your eyes very much the night before last," said Dagobert, rubbing his forehead, " you pretended to be so very sleepy ; and I'll wager, that that was in order to get rid of me the sooner that you might jump into bed and go off to sleep sooner !" " Yes, Dagobert." " Why, you could not say to me, as you can to Kill-joy, ' Go to bed, sir !' And did your friend, Gabriel, return?" " To be sure ; and he talked a great deal to us, and, in our mo- ther's name, gave us such good and tender advice, that Rose and I next day could think of nothing else, but repeating to each other every thing that our guardian angel had uttered and advised us, as well as about his face and his look." " That reminds me, mesdemoiselles, that yesterday you were whis- pering together all along the road, and when I asked you a straight question, you gave me a crooked answer." " Yes, Dagobert, we were thinking of Gabriel; and as we both love him as much as he loves us " " But is he devoted to you two only ?" " Was not our mother devoted to us two only ? And you, Dago- bert, are not you devoted to us two only ?" " True, true; but do you know that I shall become jealous of this gay gentleman ?" " You are our friend by day, and he by night." " But, see, if you talk of him all day and dream of him all night, what will there be left for me ?" ' Two orphans whom you love so dearly," said Rose. " And who have only you to look to in the wide world," added Blanche, in an affectionate tone. " Ah, ah ! that's the way you coax the old soldier. Well, well, my darlings," added the ? eteran, in a tone of tenderness, " I am con- THE DREAM. London: rii;i;.!ii:m an. I l!:i!l. FeVusrj I, MUTUAL CONFIDENCE. 41 tent with my lot, and I leave you to your Gabriel. I knew that Kill-joy and I might sleep quietly enough. Besides, it is not so very astonish- ing ; your first dream had made an impression on you, and as you talked together so much about it, why you dreamed it all over again, and so I should not be astonished if you saw it for the third time again. This beautiful night-bird " " Oh, Dagobert, do not laugh at it. True, they were only dreams, but they seem as if they were sent by our mother. Did she not tell us that young orphan girls had guardian angels ? and so Gabriel is our guardian angel, and will protect us and you also." <% It would be very kind of him to think of me ; but, my dear girls, do you see that I prefer as my aide-de-camp in protecting you friend Kill-joy : he is not so fair as an angel, but his teeth are stronger, and his bite more sure." " Ah, you arc very tiresome, Dagobert, with your jokes." " Yes, you really are ; you laugh at every thing." " Yes, it is astonishing how gay I am. I laugh like old Jovial without shewing my teeth ; but do not scold me, my dear children. I was wrong ; the thought of your sainted mother mingled with this dream, and we should always talk of her with seriousness. Besides," added he, with a grave air, " there's sometimes truth in dreams. In Spain, two comrades of mine of the empress's dragoons dreamed, the night before they died, that they were poisoned by the monks, and so they were. If you resolve on dreaming about your beautiful angel, Gabriel, why you see then why, if it amuses you, why not? You have not much entertainment during the day, and so your sleep ought to be as diverting as possible. But I have a good deal to tell you, all about your mother; but promise me not to be sad." " Certainly we do ; when we think of her we are not sad, but only serious." " Well, well ; for fear of making you sorrowful, I have put off as long as I could telling you what your poor mother would have told you when you had ceased to be children, but she died so suddenly that she had not time ; and, then, what she would have told you would almost have broken her heart, and mine also ; so I delayed my confidence as long as I could, and I did not tell you any thing before the day when we crossed the field of battle in which your father was taken prisoner I gained time by that but now the moment has arrived, and there is no retreat." " We will listen, Dagobert," replied the young girls, with an attentive and melancholy air. After a moment's silence, during which he collected himself, the veteran said to the two sisters, " Your father, General Simon, was the son of a mechanic, who remained a mechanic, for, in spite of all that the general could do or say, the good man obstinately clung to his employment he had a head of iron and a heart of gold, just like his son. You may suppose, my children, that if your father, who enlisted as a common soldier, became a general and a count of the empire, that that was not attained without exertion and glory." " Count of the empire, Dagobert, what's that?" " Oh ! a folly a title which the emperor gave (beyond the 42 THE WANDERING JEW. bargain) with the promotion a something to say to the people, whom he loved, because he belonged to them. My children, you like to play at nobility, us the old noblesse did, well, then, you are noble. If you like to play tit kings, I'll make kings of you try every thing. There's nothing too high or too good for you so feast on what you prefer or fancy." " Kings!" said the little girls, clasping their hands in wonder. " More than kings, if that's possible. Ah ! he was not selfish with crowns and thrones, the emperor. I had a bedfellow, as good a soldier as ever drew sword, who became a king; well, we all liked that, it flattered us, because when one was a king, we were all kings, and it was playing at this game that your father became a count ; but, count or no count, he was the handsomest and bravest general in the army." " He was very handsome, Dagobert, was he not? Our mother always said so." " Oh ! indeed he was, but he was by no means a fair man, like your guardian angel. Imagine a splendid, dark-complexioned man, in full uniform, a man to dazzle your eyes, and put courage into your heart; with him a soldier would have charged on the6o?i Dieu himself, that is, you will understand, if the bon Dieu had desired it," added Dagobert, eager to correct himself, and desirous in no way to wound the innocent creed of the orphans. " And our father was as good as he was brave, wasn't he, Dago- bert?" " Good, my darlings ! he ? I believe so! He could bend a horse-shoe between his hands as you could bend a card, and the day he was made prisoner he had cut down the Prussian artillery- men at their very guns. With his courage and strength, how could he help being good ? It is nearly nineteen years ago, that hereabouts, in the place I pointed out to you before we entered the village, the general fell from his horse dangerously wounded. As his orderly, I followed him, and ran to his succour. Five minutes afterwards we were taken prisoners and by whom, think you ? By a Frenchman.'' " A Frenchman ?" " Yes ; an emigrant marquis, colonel in the Russian service,' replied Dagobert, bitterly. " So when this marquis said as he ad- vanced to the general, ' Surrender, sir, to a countryman,' your father replied, ' A Frenchman who fights against his father -land is no countryman of mine he is a traitor, and I do not surrender to traitors!' and, wounded as he was, he dragged himself to a Russian grenadier, and gave him his sabre, saying, * I surrender to you, my gallant fellow ;' the marquis became pale with rage." The orphan girls looked at each other proudly, a scarlet colour suffused their cheeks, and they exclaimed, " Brave father ! brave father!" " Ah!" said Dagobert, caressing his moustache with a delighted air, " we may see the soldier's blood in the girls' veins." Then he continued, " Well, we were prisoners, the last horse of the general's had been killed under him, and he was obliged to mount Jovial, who had not been wounded that day, to get on his journey. Well, we reached Warsaw, there the general met your mother, who was called THE SURPRISE. P. 4. l,ondon: Chapman and Hall. March I. l-l" THE TRAVELLER. 43 the ' Pearl of Warsaw/ and that, name comprises every thing. So he who loved all that was good and handsome soon fell in love with her; she loved him in return, but her parents had promised her to another, and that other was no other than " Dagobert could not continue, for Rose, uttering a piercing shriek, pointed to the window in an agony of fear. CHAPTER VII. THE TRAVELLER. DAGOBERT rose quickly at the cry of the young girl. " What ails you, Rose?" " There there !" said she, pointing to the window ; " I thought I saw a hand move the pelisse." Rose had not finished these words, before Dagobert hastened to the window, which he opened with haste, after having taken away the cloak which was hung up in the window-frame. It was very dark without, and the wind blew violently. The soldier listened, but heard nothing. He then took the candle from the table, and endeavoured to throw its rays outside by covering the flame with his hand. He saw nothing. Closing the window again, he persuaded himself that a gust of wind had moved and deranged the cloak. Rose must have been deceived. " Don't be alarmed, my dears. The wind is very high, and must have stirred the corner of the cloak." " Yet I fancied I saw the fingers which moved it on one side," said Rose, in a tremulous voice. " I was looking at Dagobert," said Blanche, " and so did not see any thing." "There was nothing to see, my children, that's quite evident. The window is at least eight feet and a half above the ground, and so only a giant could reach up, or else a ladder must be used to get up. It' there had been a ladder, there could not have been time to remove it before 1 reached the window, which I did as soon as Rose cried out ; and \\licn I held the candle out I could not see any thing." " I must have been deceived," said Rose. " You see, sister, it could only have been the wind," added Blanche 1 . " I am very sorry to have interrupted you, Dagobert !" " Never mind that," replied the soldier, musing. " I am sorry that Kill-joy has not returned, for he would have kept watch at the window, and that would have given you confidence ; but, no doubt, he lias smelted out the stable of his comrade Jovial, and has gone in to say good-night to him. I have a good mind to go out and look for him." " Oh ! no, Dagobert, do not leave us alone," exclaimed the young girls ; " we should be so frightened !" 44 THE WANDERIKG JEW. " Well, then, I daresay Kill-joy will not be long before he returns, mill we shall soon hear him scratching at the door. Well, then, I'll go on with my story," said Dagobert, as he seated himself at the foot of the two sisters' bed, with his face towards the window. " Well, the general was a prisoner at Warsaw and in love with your mother, whom they wished to marry to another," he said. " In 1814 the war was brought to an end. The emperor was exiled to the Isle of Elba, and the Bourbons were restored ; and, in concert with the Russians and Prussians who had brought them back, they had exiled the emperor to the Island of Elba. When your mother learnt that, she said to the general, ' The war is ended you are free! The emperor is in misfortune ; you owe all to him go to him ! I know not when we shall meet again ; but I will never marry any one but you. I am yours till death !' Before he started, the general sent for me. ' Dagobert,' said he, ' remain here. Perhaps Mademoiselle Eva may require your aid to fly from her family if they persecute her our correspondence will pass through your hands. In Paris I shall see your wife your son; and I will console them. I will tell them what you are to me how dear a friend ! ' ' "Always the same!" said Rose, in a tender voice, looking at Dagobert. " Good to the father and the mother as to the children ! " added Blanche. " To love the one was to love the other," replied the veteran. " So, then, the general was in the Isle of Elba with the emperor. I was at Warsaw, and in concealment near your mother's house, when I received letters, and conveyed them secretly to her. In one of these and I say it with pride, my dears the general told me that the emperor remembered me." " You ! What ! he knew you then ? " " Yes, a little bit, I flatter myself. ' Ah ! Dagobert ? ' said he to your father, who had mentioned me, ' a grenadier of my old horse- guard ! a soldier of Egypt and Italy, furrowed with wounds ; an old ' pince-sans-rire ,' whom I decorated with my own hand at Wagram : I have not forgotten him !' Dame ! my children, when your mother read that to me, I cried like a blubbering schoolboy 1 " " The emperor ! Oh ! what a beautiful golden face he had in your silver cross with the red riband which you used to shew us sometimes when we were good girls ! " " That was the very cross he gave me with his own hand. It is my relic mine ! and it is there in that bag with all that we have in the world our little purse and our papers. But to return to your mother. When I carried to her the general's letters, and talked with her about him, that was a great comfort to her, for she suffered a great deal. Oh! yes; a very great deal. Her relatives were very unkind to her, and tormented her greatly; but she always told them, ' / will never marry any one but General Simon!' She was a determined spirit, she was! resigned, but full of courage! One day she re- ceived a letter from the general. He had sailed from Elba with the emperor. The war began again ; and in this campaign of France, especially at Montmirail, my loves, your father fought like a lion, and THE TRAVELLER. 45 his brigade fought like him. It was no longer bravery it was down- right rage ; and he told me that in Champagne the peasantry killed so many Prussians that their fields were manured for years to come ! Men, women, and children, all ran forward! Pitchforks, stones, pickaxes, shovels, all and every thing was turned into arms, and used for slaughter. It was a real battue of wolves ! " The veins in the veteran's forehead swelled, his cheeks grew scar- let, as this trait of popular heroism recalled to him the sublime ardour of the republican wars those levies en masse in which his earliest scenes of military life had passed. The orphans, the daughters of a warrior and a high-spirited mother, were excited by these energetic words, and instead of being intimidated by their roughness, their hearts beat high and their cheeks became flushed. " What happiness for us to be the daughters of so brave a father ! " exclaimed Blanche. " What happiness, and what good fortune, my children, for on the evening after the fight of Montmirail, the emperor, to the joy of the whole army, created your father on the field of battle Duke of Mont- mirail and Marshal of France ! " " Marshal of France!" said Rose, amazed, and hardly under- standing the purport of these words. " Duke of Montmirail ! " added Blanche, equally surprised. " Yes, Pierre Simon, the workman's son, a duke and marshal! He could not be higher unless he was a king," continued Dagobert, with pride. " That's the way the emperor treated the sons of the people, and so the people were always for him. It was no use for any to say, ' Ah ! but your emperor only considers you as food for powder ! ' ' Pooh! why another would make of us food for misery,' replied the people, who are no fools. ' I prefer gunpowder and the chance of being a captain, colonel, marshal, king, or invalid: that's better than starving with want, cold, or old age, on dirty straw in an old garret, after having toiled uselessly forty years for other people.' " " What! in France in Paris in that beautiful city, are there miserable creatures who die of want and misery, Dagobert?" " Yes, even in Paris, my dears, there is want and misery ; but I will leave that now. I like gunpowder better, for with that one has the chance of being made a peer or a marshal, like your father. When I say peer and marshal, I am right and I am wrong, for afterwards he was not known by that title and rank ; because, after Montmirail,* there was a day of deep mourning, very deep, on which old soldiers like me, and the generals, have wept yes, wept the evening of that battle of that day, my dears, called Waterloo." There was in the simple words of Dagobert an accent of sorrow so deep that the orphans trembled at its expression. " There are," resumed the soldier, with a deep sigh, " days accursed as these. This day, at Waterloo, the general fell, covered with wounds, at the head of a division of the guard. After a long time he was cured, and requested leave to go to St. Helena, another island at the farther end of the world, where the English had sent the emperor to torture him, at their ease ; for if he was fortunate at first, he suffered a great deal of misery in his after-life, my poor dears," 46 THE WANDERIHG JEW. " Oh, Dagobert, how sad ! you make us weep." " And there's reason for tears. The emperor endured so much so very much. His heart bled cruelly but it's over. Unfortunately the general was not with him at St. Helena, or he would have been one more to console him : they would not let him go. Then he, exaspe- rated, like many more, against the Bourbons, organised a conspiracy to recall the emperor's son. He was anxious to gain over a regiment ^ composed almost entirely of old soldiers devoted to him. He went into a city of Picardy, in which this garrison was stationed, but the conspiracy had been discovered. At the moment when the general arrived there, he was arrested and led before the colonel of the regi- ment : and this colonel," said the veteran, after a minute's silence, " do you know who he was ? But, bah! it is too long a story to tell now, and would only sadden you. Well, then, it was a man whom your father had long had reason to hate heartily. Well, they were face to face, and the general said, ' If you are not a coward, you will put me at liberty for one hour, and we will fight till one falls, for I hate you for that, I despise you for the other, and still more for this.' The colonel accepted the offer, and released your father until the next morning, when there was a bloody duel, the end of which was, that the colonel was left for dead on the plain." " Ah, mon Dieu /" " The general was wiping his sword, when a friend stepped up and told him that he might yet escape. He did so, and fortunately got out of France : yes, fortunately, for fifteen days afterwards he was con- demned to death as a conspirator." " Oh, Heaven, what misfortunes !" " There was good fortune in this misfortune your mother kept firmly to her promise, and was constantly expecting him. She had written to him to say, ' the emperor first and me afterwards!' As he could no longer do any thing either for the emperor or his son, the general, exiled from France, reached Warsaw. Your mother's parents had just died ; she was therefore free, and they were married, and I am one of the witnesses of their marriage." " You are right, Dagobert ; that was really good fortune amidst misfortune." " Well, at last they were happy ; but, like all noble hearts, the happier they were themselves, the more they pitied the miseries of others and there was much to pity in Warsaw. The Russians were *again beginning to treat the Poles as slaves, and your dear mother, although of French origin, was yet a Pole in heart and feeling. She boldly said out what others dared not even whisper, and the unhappy called her their good angel, and that was enough to draw upon her the suspicious eye of the Russian governor. One day a colonel of the lancers, a friend of the general's, a brave and worthy man, was con- demned to exile in Siberia, for a military conspiracy against the Russians. He escaped, and your father gave him shelter. This was discovered, and during the next night, a body of Cossacks, led by an officer and followed by a post carriage, came to our door, surprised the general in bed, and carried him off." " Mon Dieu ! what did they do with him ?" " Conduct him out of Russia, with a peremptory order never again THE TRAVELLER. 47 to set foot in it under pain of imprisonment for life. His last words were, ' Dagobert, I trust to your keeping my wife and child;' for your mother was expecting your birth soon after. Well, in spite of that she was exiled to Siberia. It was an opportunity for getting rid of her she did so much good in Warsaw that they were afraid of her. Not content with exile, they confiscated all her property. The only favour they would grant was, that I should accompany her ; and had it not been for Jovial, whom the general had allowed me to retain, she would have been forced to make the journey on foot. Well, in this way, she on the horse, and I walking by her side, as I do by yours, my darlings, we reached, three months after, a miserable village, in which you were born poor little things ! " " And our father?" " He dared not return into Russia, and it was impossible for your mother to fly with two children, and equally impossible for the general to write to her, because he did not know where she was." " And did you never hear from him again ?" " Yes, my dears, once we heard " " What, and by whom?" After a moment's silence, Dagobert replied, with a singular ex- pression of countenance, " By whom ? Why, by one who did not resemble other men yes and that you may understand what I say, I must tell you, as briefly as I can, an extraordinary adventure which happened to your father during a campaign in France. He had received from the emperor an order to storm a battery which was dealing heavy destruc- tion in our lines. After many unsuccessful attempts, the general, heading a regiment of cuirassiers, dashed at the battery, according to his usual practice, and cut down the men at their very guns. He found himself on his horse exactly before the mouth of a cannon, of which all the artillery-men were killed or wounded ; one, however, had strength enough to raise himself and hold out his slow-light to the touch-hole of the piece, at the very moment when the general was only ten paces from the mouth of the gun." " Grand Dieu, what danger our father was in !" " Never, as he told me, was he in greater peril for the moment he saw the artillery-man fire the gun, it went off; but at that very moment a tall man, dressed like a countryman, and whom your father had not before remarked, threw himself before the cannon's mouth " " Ah ! wretched man ! What a horrid death ! " Yes," said Dagobert, pensively. " That ought to have happened he should have been shattered into a thousand bits yet he was not " " What say you?" " Why, the general told me, * At the moment when the gun fired,' he has often repeated, ' by a movement of involuntary horror, I closed my eyes, that I might not see the mutilated carcase of the wretched individual sacrificed in my place. When I opened them, what should I see, in the midst of the smoke, but this tall individual standing erect ami ([iiite calm on the same spot, casting a sad but sweet smile on the artillery-man, who, with one knee on the ground, his body half recum- 48 THE WANDERING JEW. bent, looked at him with as much fear as if he had been the devil himself ; then the battle raging hotly it was impossible for me again to find this man,' added your father." " Mon Dieu ! Dagobert, is this possible ? " " That's what I inquired of the general. He replied that he never could explain this singular fact to his satisfaction. Your father was much struck by the features of this man, who appeared, as he told me, about thirty years of age, with very black eyebrows, which united in the centre of his forehead, making, as it were, only one large brow from one temple to the other, so that his forehead appeared as if it was stamped with a black semicircle remember this, my dears, you will know why presently." " Yes, Dagobert, we will not forget it," said the astonished girls. " How very strange, a man with his forehead encircled with a black ray." " Listen now. The general had been, I told you, left for dead at Waterloo. During the night, which he passed on the field of battle in a sort of delirium, caused by the fever of his wounds, there seemed to appear to him, in the moonlight, the same man, who leaned over him, contemplating his features with great tenderness and sorrow, and who, stanching the blood of his wounds, did all in his power to recover him. And as your father, whose senses were wandering, repulsed him and refused his care, saying, that, after such a disastrous defeat, there was nothing left him but to die, it seemed to him this person said, ' You must live for Eva's sake !' That was your mother's name your mother, whom the general had left at Warsaw, to rejoin the emperor, and with him once more enter on a campaign for France." " How very strange, Dagobert ! and did our father ever see that man again ?" "He did ! it was he who brought the general's letters and mes- sages to your poor mother." " When could that have been ? we never saw him." " Do you recollect that on the morning of your dear mother's death you had gone with old Fedora to the forest of pines?" " Oh yes !" replied Rose, mournfully, "we had accompanied Fedora to search for a particular sort of moss our mother used to be so fond of." " Dear mother," murmured Blanche, her soft eyes filling with tears, " who could have anticipated when we quitted her so well in the morning the dreadful blow we were to experience that very night!" " Who, indeed, my child ? As for me, on that very morning I was at work in the garden singing my merriest song, and as little dreaming of trouble or sorrow as yourselves, when suddenly I heard a voice behind me inquire in French, ' Is this the village of Milosk ? ' I turned hastily round and perceived a stranger standing before me ; instead of replying to his question, I looked steadfastly at him and retreated several steps in utter surprise and astonishment." " And wherefore were you so startled?" " The individual was of immense height, very pale, with a high ex- pansive forehead, his thick black eyebrows had grown together so as to shade his countenance with one dark gloomy semicircle," THE TRAVELLER. 49 " This was doubtless the same person who had twice stood beside our father during the battles he was engaged in !" "The very same !" " But tell me, Dagobert," said Rose, thoughtfully, " how long is it since these battles took place ? " " About sixteen years ! " " And this stranger whose appearance so greatly astonished you about how old was he ?" " Scarcely thirty years!" " Then how could he possibly be the same man who, sixteen years previously, had fought in the same campaign as our father ?" " Quite right," said Dagobert, shrugging his shoulders ; " I must have been deceived by some passing resemblance yet " " At least, if it were really the person you imagined, his age must have stood still all those years, and that is quite impossible." " But did you not ask him if he were the very same individual who had formerly succoured our parent ?" "In my first confusion of ideas I did not think of it; and he stayed so very short a time that I had no further opportunity of so doing. He again inquired for the village of Milosk. " ' You are there at present,' replied I, ' but how did you discover I was a Frenchman ? ' " * By hearing you sing as I passed by this garden,' answered he ; ' but can you tell me where Madame Simon, wife to the general of that name, resides ? ' " ' This is her house, sir ! ' " Evidently perceiving the surprise his visit occasioned me, he sur- veyed me for several minutes in silence, then holding out his hand to me, he said,* " ' You are the friend of General Simon I may say his best friend !' " You may judge, my children, of the utter amazement I ex- perienced at finding a mere stranger so well informed on such matters : ut length I managed to exclaim, " ' And how know you this, sir ?' " * From frequently hearing the general speak of you in terms of grateful recollection.' " ' You have then seen the general?' " ' I knew him long since in India ; and am equally with yourself his friend. I have constantly been employed by him to convey his letters, &c. to his lady, of whose exile in Siberia I was perfectly aware. At Tobolsk I learned that she inhabited this village. Have the good- ness to conduct me to her at once.' " " Kind traveller, how I love him ! " said Rose. " For he was our dear father's friend," added Blanche. " I begged him to wait a few minutes while I apprised your mother of his proposed visit, fearing any sudden surprise might be injurious to her. Five minutes afterwards he was admitted into her presence." "And how was this traveller dressed, Dagobert? what sort of person was he ? " " Very tall, with long black curling hair. He wore a dark travel- ling cloak, with a similar cap." " And was he handsome ?" 4 E /50 THK W \\Tn.MWO JEW. " Yes, my children, extremely so; but the expression of his coun- tenance, though kind and gentle, had a grief-worn look that cut me to the heart." "Poor man! some severe trouble some incurable affliction, no doubt!" " Your mother remained closeted with him for some time, when she summoned me to say she had received favourable tidings from the general. She was in tears, and had before her a large packet of papers, forming a species of journal. The general was in the habit of writing to her nearly every evening to console her for their separation. Unable to converse with her, he poured out on paper all he would have said had she been present." "And where are these papers, Dagobert ?" " There, in my wallet, with my cross and our purse one of these days I will give them to you. I have merely taken out a few leaves which I will read to you directly you will see then why I have selected them." " Was our father long in India ?" " From the little your mother told me it appears that the general had gone thither after having fought with the Greeks against the Turks for he ever loved to side with the weak and oppressed against the strong. Upon his arrival in India, he commenced a bitter strife against the English, who had massacred our countrymen when pri- soners of war, and held our emperor in bondage at St. Helena. This was a legitimate war ; and while wreaking his vengeance on a nation he detested, he was enabled to assist a good cause." " How, Dagobert ? What cause could he befriend ?" " That of one of the tributary petty princes of India, then ravaged by the English without the slightest pretext to cover their unjust in- vasion. Here, again, you see my children, your noble father acted upon his favourite impulse, that of protecting the weak from the tyranny of the strong ; and in a very short space of time he had so well disciplined and instructed the twelve or fifteen thousand men who composed the troops of the Indian sovereign, that they gained two de- cisive victories over their invaders, the English, who, but for his timely interposition, would But stay, a few pages from his journal will tell you more and better than I can. Besides, you will then read a name you must never forget ; and for that reason I have selected this passage." " Oh, what happiness !" exclaimed Rose, " to be able to read the very words traced by our dear parent's hand ; it is almost the same as though he spoke to us." "As though he were beside us," added Blanche, tenderly. So speaking, both sisters eagerly extended their hands to receive the papers Dagobert drew from his pocket. Then, as if influenced by a simultaneous burst of filial reverence, they each silently kissed the hand-writing of their father. " You will perceive, my children, in perusing these pages, why it was I felt so much surprise when you told me that your guardian angel, who has visited you in your dreams, was named Gabriel. But read read," continued the soldier, observing the astonished looks of the sisters. " Only, I ought to tell you beforehand, that when your father FRAGMENTS OF GENERAL SIMON'S JOURNAL. 51 wrote (hese lines he had not then encountered the individual who was the bearer of these papers to your mother." Rose, sitting up in her bed, took the leaves and commenced reading iu a soft and tremulous voice. While Blanche, her head reclining on her sister's shoulder, lis- tened with profound attention, the motion of her lips evincing how closely she followed each sound, and that she, too, read mentally. CHAPTER VIII. FRAGMENTS OF GENERAL SIMON*S JOURNAL. " Bivouac of the Mountains of A va, " 20th February, 1830. " EACH time that I add to the sheets of my journal, now written in the upper part of India, where my fate and wandering destiny have thrown me a journal which, perhaps, thou, my ever-loved Eva, mayst never read I experience sensations so painful, yet so dear to me; for it is a consolation thus to commune with thee, dearest, and yet my regrets are never more bitter than when I thus speak to, but do not see, thee. " If ever these pages shall come before thine eyes, thy generous heart will beat at the name of that intrepid being to whom I owe my life, to whom I shall, perhaps, owe the happiness of one day again beholding thee and our child for it lives, does it not our dear child ? I must hope so, for else, dear wife, what must be your life, spent in lonely exile ? Dear angel, it must be now fourteen years of age. Who is it like ? To thee, dearest is it not? It has, I know, thy large and lovely blue eyes. Fool that I am ! How many times in this long journal have I not already asked this question, to which thou canst not reply ? How many times ? and yet I shall again do so. Thou must teach our child to pronounce and love the name, however strange, of Djalma." " Djalma !" said Rose, who, with moistened eyes, interrupted the reading. " Djalma !" replied Blanche, who shared her sister's emotion ; " oh I we shall never forget this name." " And you will be right, my children ; for it seems it is that of a soldier, very famous though very young. Go on, my little Rose." Rose resumed, " I have told you, dearest Eva, in the preceding sheets, of the two good days which we had during this month. The troops of my old friend, the Indian prince, improving daily in their European discipline, have done wonders. We have driven back the English, and com- pelled them to evacuate a part of this unhappy country, invaded by them in contempt of all right, all justice; and which they have ravaged most mercilessly, for here English warfare is only in other words treason, pillage, and massacre. This morning, after a forced inarch 52 THE WANDERING JEW, through rivers and over mountains, we learn by our spies that rein- forcements had reached the enemy, who was preparing to assume the offensive. They were only a few leagues off, and an engagement was inevitable. My old friend, the Indian prince, the father of my pre- server, was eager for the onset The affair began at three o'clock, and was fierce and bloody. As I saw a moment of indecision in our lines, for we were much inferior in numbers, and the English rein- forcements were quite fresh, I charged at the head of our small body of cavalry. " The old prince was in the centre, fighting as he always fights, most valorously. His son Djalma, hardly eighteen years of age, and as brave as his father, was at my side, when, in the hottest of the fight, my horse was killed under me, and rolled with me down a bank, on the edge of which we were at the moment, and I was so completely under him that for an instant I fancied my thigh was broken." " Poor father ! " said Blanche. " Fortunately, this time nothing serious did happen to him, thanks to Djalma. You see, Dagobert, I remember the name," remarked Rose, who then continued, " The English, thinking that if they killed me (very flattering for me) they should easily subdue the prince's army, an officer and five or six irregular soldiers brutal and cowardly robbers I seeing me roll down the ravine, rushed after to slay me. In the midst of the fire and smoke, our gallant fellows had not seen my fall ; but Djalma never quitted me, and, leaping down the bank to my rescue, by his calm intrepidity saved my life. With one of the double barrels of his carbine he laid the officer dead, and with the other broke the arm of the miscreant who had stabbed my left hand with his bayonet ; but my Eva need not feel alarm it is only a scratch " "Wounded wounded again! Mon Dieu !" cried Blanche, clasping her hands, and interrupting her sister. " Oh, that's nothing ! " said Dagobert ; " it was only a scratch, as the general said. He used to call the wounds which did not prevent, him from fighting ' white wounds.' He always found out the right word for every thing." " Djalma seeing me wounded," continued Rose, wiping her eye, " used his heavy carbine for a club, and drove back my assailants, when, at this moment, I saw a fresh adversary concealed behind a clump of bamboos, which commanded the ravine, who, placing the barrel of his long fusil between two branches, blowed in his slow-light, and took deliberate aim at Djalma, and the brave youth received a ball in his chest, before ray cries could put him on his guard. Feeling himself struck, he retreated in spite of himself for two paces, and fell on his knee, but still keeping erect and trying to make for me a rampart of his body. Conceive my rage, my despair I Unfortunately my efforts to disengage myseif were paralysed by the excruciating agony which I experienced in my thigh. Powerless and weaponless, I looked for some moments at this unequal conflict. " Djalma had lost a great deal of blood his arm grew weak ; and one of the skirmishers, encouraging the others with his voice, took from his belt a large and heavy axe, which would decapitate a man at a single blow, when, at the moment, a dozen of our men reached the spot. DJALMA PROTECTING GENERAL SIMON. p a. UNIVERSITY Ut I LIBRARY <'lu|ini;tii anru:ir> l. FRAGMENTS OF GENERAL SIMON'S JOURNAL. 53 Djalma was delivered in his turn, and they disengaged me. At the end of a quarter of an hour I was able to mount another horse, and we eventually gained the day, though with immense loss. To-morrow the affair must be decisive, for I can see the fires of the English bivouac from this spot. Thus my Eva will see how I am indebted for life to this youth. Fortunately, his wound is harmless, the ball having glanced along his ribs." " The brave'lad would say, with the general, ' only a white wound, 1 " said Dagobert. " Now, my beloved Eva," Rose read on, " you must know, by my recital, the intrepid Djalma, who is scarcely eighteen years of age in one word, I will paint to you his noble and courageous nature : in his country they sometimes bestow surnames, and, from fifteen years old, he has been called ' the Generous* Generous, indeed, in heart and soul. By another custom of the country, as peculiar as it is touching, this surname has ascended to his father, who is termed ( the Father of the Generous; ' and he might well be styled the Just, for the old Indian is a rare specimen of chivalrous loyalty and proud indepen- dence. He might, as so many other poor princes in this land have done, humble himself to the dust before the execrable English despotism, treat for the sale of his sovereignty, and surrender to force ; but no * My whole right, or a ditch in the mountains tchere I was born, 1 such is his motto. It is not boasting, it is the consciousness of what is right and just. ' But you will be ground to powder in the struggle,' I have said to him. His reply was, ' My friend, if to com- pel you to a disgraceful action you were told to yield or die ?' From this day I fully understood his character, and have devoted myself, body and soul, to the cause the sacred cause of the weak against the strong. You see, my Eva, that Djalma is worthy of such a sire. This young Indian's courage is so heroic, 'so intense, that he fights like a young Greek in the age of Leonidas, with a bare breast, while the other soldiers of his country, who in time of peace have the shoulders, arms, and breasts uncovered, put on a thick war-coat when they go to battle. The rash intrepidity of this youth reminds me of the King of Naples, of whom I have often spoken to you, and whom I have seen a hundred times charge at the head of his troops with no other arms in his hand than a riding-whip." " Ah ! he is one of those I told you of," said Dagobert, " and with whom the Emperor amused himself in making him a king. I saw a Prussian officer, a prisoner, whose face the King of Naples had marked in his rage with his whip. It was black and blue. The Prussian swore an oath, and said he was dishonoured, and that he would rather have had a sabre-cut. I believe him. That devil of a monarch he only knew one way of doing business, that was to march straight up to the cannon. As soon as a cannonade began, he declared that it called him by all his names, and ran up to it, saying, ' Here I am.' If I speak of him to you, my dears, it is because he often said, ' No one can cut through a square that bids defiance to General Simou or myself.'" Rose proceeded: " I have remarked, with pain, that, in spite of his youth, Djalma often had fits of deep melancholy. Sometimes I have detected between 54 THE WANDERING JEW. him and bis father singular looks, and, in spite of our mutual regard, I believe that they keep from me some painful family secret, if I may judge from a few words which at times escape from them, and which 1 believe involves some singular event, to which their ima- ginations, naturally excited and romantic, have given a supernatural character. " But you know, my love, that we ourselves have lost the right of ridiculing the credulity of any persons, r l, since my campaign in France, wherein that very singular adventure occurred to me, which mystery I have never been able to solve." " He means of the man who threw himself before the mouth of the. cannon," said Dagobert. " And you," the young girl resumed her perusal, "my Eva dear, since the visits of that young and lovely woman, whom your mother said she had seen at her mother's forty years previously." The orphans looked at the soldier with astonishment. " Your mother never mentioned that to me, nor the general either ; it's as strange to me as to you." Rose resumed, with much emotion and increasing curiosity : " After all, my dear Eva, things often very extraordinary in ap- pearance are explained by some chance, some resemblance, or some caprice of nature. The marvellous being always only some optical illusion, or the result of an imagination already deeply impressed, the time comes when that which seemed superhuman or supernatural turns out an event the most probable and explicable in the world ; and so I have no doubt but that what we call our prodigies will, one day or other, come before us fully and naturally explained." " You see, my children, that what at first is wonderful, is after- wards very simple though that does not prevent us from being a long time before we find out its meaning." " As our father says so, we must believe it, and not be surprised must we not, sister ? " " Of course, because, some day or other, it will be all explained." "Now," said Dagobert, after brief reflection "a comparison. You two are so alike, you know, that any one who was not in the habit of seeing you every day would easily mistake one for the other. Well, if he did not know if I may say so that you were double, only see how astonished he would be. I am quite sure that he would think the devil was in it, apropos of good little angels as you are." " You are right, Dagobert ; and in this way, as our father says, many things may be accounted for" and Hose continued : " My dear Eva, it is with no little pleasure that I find that Djalma has French blood in his veins : his father married, many years ago, a young girl whose family, of French extraction, was long settled in Batavia, in the isle of Java. This similarity of position beweeu my old friend and myself has made our friendship the more close ; for your family also, Eva, is of French descent, and long since established in a strange land. Unfortunately, the prince, some years since, lost the wife he adored. " Alas, my beloved, my hand trembles as I write. I am weak I am a child my heart is wounded, broken. If such a misfortune should occur ! Oh Heaven I and our child, what would become of it FRAGMENTS OF GENERAL SIMON'S JOURNAL. 55 without you without me in that barbarous clime ? No! no! the fear is absurd ; but what horrid torture is uncertainty ! Where, then, are you? Wh.it are you doing? What has become of you? For- give these gloomy thoughts, which come over me so often in spite of myself I Cheerless momenta desolate for, when they come, I say, ' I am a proscribed man, unhappy ; but still, at least, at the farther end of the world, there are two hearts that still beat for me, thine, my Eva, and that of our child ! ' " Rose could hardly complete these last words, her voice was almost choked with her sobs. There was, in truth, a sad coincidence between the fears of the general and the mournful reality ; and what could be more affecting than these remarks, written on the eve of a battle, by the light of the bivouac fire, by a soldier, who thus sought to allay the anguish of a separation so painful, but which, at the moment, he did not know to be eternal ? " Poor general ! he did not know our misfortune," said Dagobert, after a moment's silence ; ; ' and neither did he know that, instead of one child, he has two that will be some comfort to him ; but now, Blanche, do you go on reading, I fear your sister will be tired ; she is too much excited, and, besides, it is only right that you should share the pleasure and the pain of the reading." Blanche took the letter, and Rose, wiping her eyes, which over- flowed with tears, leaned in her turn her lovely head on her sister's shoulder, who thus proceeded, " I am calmer now, iny loved one. I ceased to write for a moment. I have driven my dark thoughts away, and let us resume our con- versation. " After having so much, at length, discoursed to you of India, I will say a word or two of Europe. Yesterday evening one of our men, a safe hand, came to our advanced post, he brought me a letter from France, which had been forwarded to Calcutta. I have news from my father, and ray uneasiness is removed. This letter is dated in August last, and I find that many letters are lost or miscarried, for, during nearly two years, I have not had one, and was, therefore, deeply anxious about him. Excellent father, always the same age has not weakened his energetic mind ; and his health is as robust as ever, he tells me. He is still a mechanic, and rejoices in it as much as ever ; always faithful to his strong republican bias, and full of hope yet : for, said he, ' the time is at hand,' and these last words were underlined. He also gave me, as you will see, excellent accounts of the family of our good, faithful friend and follower, Dagobert. Be- lieve me, dearest Eva, it is a considerable diminution of my grief to reflect that you have so true and devoted a man near you, for well I know that he would never forsake you in your exile. What sterling worth lies hid beneath his rough exterior ; a heart pure and valuable as gold, yet firm and unbending as iron. I can suppose how tenderly he loves our child I " While this passage was being read, Dagobert was suddenly seized with a most unusual attack of coughing, occasionally looking down and searching most diligently for a small checked pocket-handkerchief, which happened at that very moment to be lying across his knees. 56 THE WANDERING JEW. He remained in liis stooping position for some brief space, then, reco- vering himself, commenced stroking his moustache. " How well our dear father understood and appreciated you ! " " And how rightly he foresaw how tenderly you would love us !" " Enough, enough ! dear children, don't let us say any more about that ; but go on to where your father (the general) mentions my little Agricola and Gabriel, the adopted son of my wife dear wife, when I think that perhaps ere three months But proceed, my dear children. Read, read," added the soldier, striving to repress his emotion. " Spite of myself, dear Eva, I cherish the hope that these pages will one day reach you, and with that idea I shall write what I think may also be interesting to our good Dagobert, and I know well how delighted he will be to receive tidings of his family. My father, who still superintends the business of his worthy employer, M. Hardy, informs me that this latter has taken Dagobert's son into his workshop, and Agricola is employed under the immediate superintendence of my father, who is delighted with his skill and docility : he speaks of him as an amiable and clever youth, who makes no more of the heavy tools re- quired in his work than he would of using a child's toy. As light-hearted as industrious and intelligent, he bids fair to become the head work- man in the establishment : yet, after his day's toil is over, his great delight is to return to his adored mother, and, sitting by her side, compose verses and patriotic songs of extraordinary merit ; indeed, the rich vein of poetry which runs through these productions, combined with the purity and sublimity of the expressions, have caused them to become exclusively the songs sung by all the workmen in the work- shops of Paris; and well are they calculated to touch the coldest hearts, and by their stirring energy to rouse and excite even the weak and timid to virtuous deeds." " Oh ! how proud you must be of such a son, Dagobert," said Rose, her sweet face beaming with admiration ; " he composes songs, you see." " Yes, it is indeed a fine thing to hear all this; but what princi- pally delights me is to learn how much he loves his mother, and that he is skilful and strong in the management of heavy tools. Ah ! only a man capable of making the iron ring well on the anvil could have had the soul to write such beautiful songs as the ' R&veil du Peuple,' and 'La Marseillaise /' but where Agricola picked it all up is more than I can think. I dare say, though, he learned all those sort of fine things at the school where, as you will find, he went with his adopted brother, Gabriel." At this name, which recalled to the sisters the imaginary being they styled their guardian angel, their curiosity was deeply excited, and Blanche, with redoubled attention, read as follows : " Agricola's adopted brother, the poor deserted child so generously protected by the wife of our excellent Dagobert, is, I am told, the most perfect contrast to himself, not as regards the goodness of his heart, for in that respect the youths are equal, but in character and disposition. Agricola is endowed with the most buoyant gaiety and unfailing flow of spirits, ever in action, and prompt to create and par- ticipate in all mirthful pastimes, while while Gabriel is melancholy and thoughtful. My father further adds, you may read in the countenances FRAGMENTS OF GENERAL SIMON'S JOURNAL. 57 of these youths the faithful index of their opposite characters. Agri- cola is tall and muscular, his tine dark complexion beaming with health and manly courage : Gabriel, on the contrary, has a thin, slight figure, by no means indicative of health or strength ; he has the delicate com- plexion and soft hair of a woman, and his timid, gentle manner gives an almost angelic sweetness to his whole appearance." The orphans surveyed each other in utter amazement; then turn- ing their ingenuous looks towards Dagobert, Rose exclaimed, " Why, Dagobert, this is precisely the description of our Gabriel. Yours has fair features, light curling locks, and the look of an angel, so has ours." " Yes, yes ; the resemblance is perfect ; and that was the cause of my being so astonished when you related to me your dream." " Are you sure he had blue eyes?" inquired Rose. " As for that, my child, though the general says nothing about it, I should say he certainly had, for I believe all very fair people do have blue eyes; however, black or blue, he must not use them to admire young girls wherefore, you will find out as you proceed." Blanche resumed, " The almost supernatu rally angelic expression of Gabriel's counte- nance attracted the attention of a holy brother in one of our public schools, which, in company with Agricola and the children of the neighbourhood, he was in the habit of attending. This holy man mentioned him to a high dignitary of the church, who had sufficient interest to place him in one of our seminaries, and it is now more than two years since he took the vows of the order. He is intended to be sent abroad as a missionary, and will, ere long, depart for America." " Then your Gabriel is a monk," said Rose, looking at Dagobert, somewhat dismayed. " And ours is an angel ! " added Blanche. " Which certainly proves that your Gabriel holds a higher rank than mine. Well ! every one to their choice ! but I am very glad it was not my boy took a fancy to a priest's coat. I would rather a thousand times see my Agricola's muscular frame clad in a workman's dress, a leathern apron tied before him, and his brawny arm wielding a hammer, after the fashion of your venerable grandfather, my children, and the parent of Marshal Simon, Duke de Ligny ; for after all, the general holds that rank, through the emperor's own creation. Now conclude your manuscript." " Thus, therefore, my tender Eva, should this journal ever reach you, you will have the gratification of tranquillising Dagobert as to the present prospects of his wife and son, whom he quitted to serve and assist us. How shall I ever repay so great a sacrifice ? But he is with you, and well I know your noble and generous heart will try hard to devise some adequate mode of acquitting our heavy debt of gratitude. Again, and again, adieu, Eva, best beloved ! For one instant I quitted my journal to visit the tent of Djalma. I found him sleeping peacefully, his father watching beside him. A single gesture made by the anxious parent sufficed to convince me no further alarm was enter- tained for the safety of the intrepid young man. May he be equally preserved from the perils of the approaching fight. Farewell, my 58 THE WANDERING JEW. tender wife I The night is calm and still : one by one the watch-fires burn out and become gradually extinct : our brave mountaineers repose after the fearful combat of yesterday, and no sound is heard but the distant call of our sentinels ; their words, as they strike on my ear, uttered in the language of their country, recall me from my temporary delusion, and remind me of what, when thus conversing with you, I entirely forget, namely, that oceans divide us that I am far, far from you and our child. Beloved beings, what is your present condition what will your future destiny be ? Ah ! could I but convey to you that medal I so unfortunately brought away with me from Warsaw, perhaps you might obtain permission to proceed with it to France, or at least, to send your child thither with Dagobert ; for you know, well know, the importance attached to it : but why add this vexation to the many troubles which already oppress us ? Unfortunately, years are rolling on : the fatal day will arrive, and the last hope to which I cling will be taken from me." " But I will not end this day mournfully. Once more, my Eva! my love! my wife ! farewell! Press our infant to your heart, and while you cover it with kisses, say that they come from an adoring, though exiled husband and father, who would peril his life to bestow them himself on his loved ones. " Till the termination of to-morrow's conflict, adieu ! adieu I " A long silence succeeded the perusal of this touching paper, the tears of the sisters alone faintly breaking the stillness which prevailed ; while Dagobert, leaning his head on his hand, was lost in deep and painful meditation. The wind increased in violence, and blew in gusts along the old passage, while the otherwise profound quiet which prevailed in the inn was broken only by the heavy drops of rain which descended in torrents and pattered against the window-panes. * * * * * While the daughters of General Simon were occupied in the affect- ing task of reading these fragments from their father's journal, a strange and mysterious scene was passing within the menagerie belonging to Morok, the brute-conqueror. CHAPTER IX. THE CAGES. MOROK had armed himself. Over his vest of chamois leather he had put on his coat of mail ; a tissue of steel, as flexible as linen, and as hard as adamant. He had buckled his cuishes on his thighs, his greaves upon his legs, his brassards on his arms, and covered his feet with iron-plate shoes ; concealing all this defensive attire with a long and loose pantaloon, and an ample pelisse carefully buttoned up, whilst in his hand he bore a long rod of iron, heated in the fire, and held by its wooden handle. Although his tiger Cain, his lion Judas, and his black panther THE CAGES. 50 La Mort, had long since been subdued by his address and energy, yet at times these brutes, in a fit of anger, would try their teeth and nails upon him ; but, thanks to the armour which his pelisse covered, they had but struck their nails on a surface of steel, blunted their teeth on arms or legs of iron, whilst a slight shake of the metal rod of their master made their hides smoke and shrivel up, thus furrowed by a deep and smarting burn. Finding that their bites were useless, these animals, whose memo- ries are vastly retentive, understood that henceforward it were vain to try their claws and teeth on an invulnerable being. So greatly did their crouching submission increase, that in their public displays, their master, at the least movement of a small cane, covered with flame- coloured paper, made them shrink and cringe at his feet in an agony of fear. The prophet, carefully armed, and holding in his hand the rod, heated by Goliath, descended the trap of the garret, which was over the large shed in which the. cages of his animals were placed. A thin partition of planks separated this shed from the stable in which were the horses of the tamer of beasts. A reflecting light threw its full beams over these cages. They were four in number. A grating of iron, tolerably wide, was round the sides. On one side this grating turned on hinges like a door, so that the animals which they enclosed could come out. The floors of these cages were on axletrees and four small iron wheels, so that they were thus easily drawn to the large covered van in which they were placed during their journeys. One of these was empty, the three others were closed, and in them, as we know, were a panther, a tiger, and a lion. The panther was from Java, and seemed, by its lowering and savage look, to deserve its name of La Mort. Completely black, it remained coiled up into the smallest compass at the farther end of its cage. The colour of its skin was mingled with the obscurity that surrounded it, so that its shape could not be made out, and only two burning and fixed fires could be seen two large eye-balls of a phosphorescent yellow, which only shone out at night; for all the animals of the feline genus see perfectly only at night, or in the midst of darkness. The prophet had entered the stable very silently the deep red of his pelisse contrasting with the light and yellow hue of his straight hair and long beard. The lamp was so placed that it completely lighted up the man, and the breadth of its beams, contrasted with the darkness of the shadow, brought out more fully the prominent features of his harsh and bony countenance. He approached slowly towards the cage. The white ring, which encircled his glaring eyeball, seemed to expand, whilst his eye rivalled, in brilliancy and fixedness, the glaring and steadfast gaze of the panther. Though crouching in the darkness, she yet felt the influence of her master's commanding look, and twice or thrice closed her eyelids hastily, uttering an angry but low growl ; then her eyes reopening in spite of herself became immovably fixed on those of the prophet. Then the round ears of La Mort fell back on her neck, flattened 60 THE WANDERING JEW. like that of a snake, the skin of her forehead wrinkled convulsively, \\liile she drew up her nostrils, covered with long bristles, and twice silently opened her wide jaw, armed with formidable fangs. At this moment a kind of magnetic sympathy seemed to be carried on between the look of the man and the beast. The prophet stretched towards the cage his rod of heated steel, and said, in a harsh and imperious tone, " La Mort, come hither 1" The panther arose, but crouched so greatly, that her belly and hocks still dragged along the floor. She was three feet high, and nearly five feet long, her chine was supple and fleshy, her hams as lengthy and as deep as those of a race-horse, her chest wide, her shoulders broad and projecting, her paws flat and strongly nerved, all evincing that this formidable beast united strength with suppleness and vigour with activity. Morok, with his rod of iron extended towards the cage, made a step towards the panther. The panther made a step towards the prophet. He paused. La Mort paused likewise. At this moment the tiger Judas, who, as Morok stood, was behind him, as though jealous of the notice bestowed by his master on the panther, uttered a furious growl; and, throwing back his head, dis- played his formidable triangular jaw and deep-set powerful chest of dusky white, whence arose the first shades of tawny, mingled with black, which constituted the colour of his coat. His tail, like a huge copper-coloured serpent, marked with clear black rings, was sometimes passively folded against its flanks, at others employed in furiously lashing them with a slow and continued movement, while his green transparent eyes were fixed on the prophet. Such was the influence possessed by this man over the animals, that Judas, at a glance from his master, ceased his roaring, and quailed in profound submission to his will ; no trace, save his loud and panting respiration, bearing evidence of his recent daring attempt at insub- ordination. Morok, who, at his wrathful cry, had instantly turned towards him, examined him with steady attention for several moments. Immediately the animal felt himself relieved from the controlling power of the pro- phet's eye, he returned to the darkest corner of his cage, and quietly laid himself down. A crackling noise, at once sharp and grating, similar to that made by beasts when gnawing hard substances, now arose in the lion's den, and attracted thither by the uncommon sound, Morok quitted the tiger, and proceeded to investigate the cause of the noise, as well as the nature of Cain's employment. Nothing but the huge tawny head of the animal was visible ; his hind quarters were bent under him, and his immense mane hung over his glowing eyes ; but by the working and tension of his muscles with the strain of his vertebrae, it was evident he was making violent use of his jaws and fore-paws. The prophet's mind misgave him, and he approached the cage in utter alarm, lest, contrary to his express command, Goliath should THE CAGES. 61 have given the beast food, the bones of which he was then gnawing. To ascertain this point he went close to the den, and exclaimed, in a sharp, decisive tone, "Cain!" Cain did not move. " Cain ! I say! come hither!" again cried Morok, in a still louder voice ; but with no better success : the lion stirred not, and the grinding noise still went on. " Cain ! here ! instantly ! summoned the prophet a third time ; but as he spoke, he, on this third appeal to his attention, applied his rod of hot steel to the flanks of the animal. Scarcely had a light smoke issued from the scorched sides of the creature, than, with a spring of inconceivable quickness, he flew to the bars of his cage ; not merely rushing thither, but flying with one bound, and so standing, and almost erect, he surveyed his tormentor with an air of majestic grandeur and ineffable rage. The prophet stood at the corner of the cage, and Cain, in his fury, and with the desire of facing his master, had presented his side against the bars, through which he thrust his enormous fore-paw up to the shoulder ; the limb still quivering with his recent exertions, and ex- hibiting a contour that, for strength and size, might have vied even with the herculean proportions of the giant Goliath himself. " Down, Cain ! down ! " said the prophet, eagerly approaching him ; but the furious beast refused compliance ; his lips, drawn back in utter rage, displayed fangs as long and formidable as those of the wild boar. Again Morok applied his wand of burning iron to the lips of Cain ; and this time, agonised by the acute pain produced by burning so sensitive a part, and, intimidated by the eye and voice of his master, the lion offered no further opposition ; his loud roaring ceased and subsided into a menacing growl, while his huge body, as though utterly deprived of all power of resistance, sunk into an attitude of submission and dread. Morok lowered his lantern, in order to discover what had so re- cently occupied the beast, when he perceived that he had torn up one of the planks from the bottom of his den, and had been trying to appease his hunger by grinding it to pieces between his huge jaws. For several instants the most profound silence reigned in the me- nagerie. The prophet, with his hands behind him, passed from cage to cage, observing the animals with a perplexed, yet earnest, gaze, as though hesitating how to make a difficult and important choice. From time to time he stopped at the door, looking out on the inn yard, and listened attentively. In a few minutes it was hastily opened, and Goliath reappeared, the wet streaming from his garments. " Well ! " said the prophet. " I have had trouble enough ! " answered the giant. " However, luckily, the night is as dark as pitch, and it blows and rains enough to kill a fellow!" " Do they suspect any thing ? " "I should say not, master! No! you have laid your plan too 62 THE WANDEtUNO JEwl well. There is a cellar just under the room where these young girls are put to sleep ; and the door of that cellar opens out on the fields. When you whistled to let me know it was time, I went out, carrying a high stool, which I placed against the wall, and stood upon it : that, with my own height, made me at least nine feet, so that I could lean upon the window-frame. 1 held the blind in one hand, and my knife in the other ; and, when I had broken two squares of glass, I slammed the blind as hard as I could." *' And they fancied it was the wind ? " " Yes, they so considered it. There, you see, one is not quite such a fool as you might suppose. Well, when I had done ray job, I made all the haste I could back into the cellar, taking my stool with me. In a little while, I heard the old man's voice ; so it was well I had been so quick." "When I whistled, he had just gone to his supper. I did not expect he would so soon have finished it." " Oh ! he isn't the sort of man to be long eating his supper," re- plied the giant, contemptuously. " Well, soon after the old soldier- man had gone to the young girls' room, and found out about the glass being broken, he opened the window, and called his dog, saying, ' Seize him ! hold him !' So I took care to shut myself tight inside the cellar, for if that cursed dog had got hold of me, he would have split my wind-pipe with his fangs." " You need have no further fears of the dog, he is safe in the stable with the horse ; but go on." " When I heard the shutter and window shut again, I came forth from the cellar ; and, putting my trestle as before, I got on it once more ; and, turning the fastening of the shutter gently, I opened it. But the two broken panes of glass had been filled up with the skirts of the pelisse, so I could only hear, and not see any thing. Well, then, I moved the cloak a little and saw the young wenches on the bed with their faces towards me, and the old fellow sitting at the foot of the couch with his back to me " " And the bag his bag? That is the important thing." " His bag was near the window on a table beside a lamp. I could have touched it by stretching out my arm." "What did you hear?" " As you told me not to attend to any thing but the bag, I only remember about the bag, and the old fellow said that his papers, the general's letters, his money, and his cross were in it" " Good. What then ? " " As it was difficult to hold the pelisse from the hole in the window, it fell out of my hand. I tried to take it up again, and put my hand so far through the window, that one of the girls saw it, and shrieked out, pointing to the window." " Cursed wretch ! all is a failure," exclaimed the prophet, pale with rage. " Listen, all is not a failure. When I heard her scream, I jumped down from my trestle, and again hid myself in the aperture under. The dog was no longer there. I left the door half open. Then I heard the window open, and saw by the reflection that the old fellow was holding GOLIATH AT THE WINDOW. T. ve are spared the use of our memory." " And when our Gabriel, our guardian angel, again visits us," added Blanche, " we will pray of him to take Djalma also under his charge." " Good, my children, ! " replied Dagobert ; " I am quite sure that you will do all that affection and duty require. But, to return to the traveller who so unexpectedly visited your mother in Siberia, he had THE SURPRISE. 65 seen your father a month after the facts you have just read had occurred, and again previously to the general's setting out to open a fresh cam- paign against the English ; upon the latter occasion it was that your father confided to him these papers and medal.". " But, Dagobert, can you tell us what is the use of this medal?" " And what do the words inscribed on it mean ? " pursued Rose, drawing it from her bosom.* " Why, it means exactly this that we must be, without fail, in Paris, No. 3 Rue Saint Francois, on the 13th February, 1832." " But wherefore?" " The suddenness of the attack which carried off your dear mother prevented her informing me, and all I know is, that this medal had been handed down to her from her family, in whose possession it had been for more than a hundred years." " And how did our father become possessed of it ?" " Among the various articles hastily put into the carriage, when he was so forcibly carried from Warsaw, was a drossing-case of your mother's, in which was deposited this medal. No opportunity was ever afforded the general of returning it ; for, had there been any means of communicating with us, he was entirely ignorant of our place of exile." " But still you believe this medal to be of great importance to us ?" " Doubtless it is ! and never had I seen your mother so joyful for the last fifteen years, as on the occasion of her again obtaining pos- session of it through the stranger. 'Henceforward,' exclaimed she, ' the fate of my children will be as happy and prosperous as it has hitherto been the reverse ! ' and turning to mo, her fine eyes filled with tears of joy, and her whole countenance bright with the glow of happiness, she said, in the presence of the stranger, ' I shall now re- quest permission of the governor of Siberia to visit France with my daughters. Surely I have been sufficiently punished by fifteen years' exile, and the confiscation of all my property. If I am refused, I must perforce remain ; but, at least, he will permit me to send my children to France under your care, my faithful Dagobert ; and you must, in that case, depart quickly for, unhappily, much time has already been lost ; and should you not arrive before the. 13th of Feb- ruary, this painful separation and hazardous journey will all have been in vain.'" Victime de L. C. D. J. Priez pour moi. Paris, Le 13 F6vrier, 1682. Trantlated thus. Victim of L. C. D. J. Pray for me. Paris, February 13, 16Q2. A Paris, Rue Saint Franfois, No. 13, Dans un siecle et demi vous serez. Le 13 F6vrier, 1832.' Priez pour moi. Translated thus. Paris, 13 St. Francis Street. In a century and a half you will be there. Pray for me. February 13, 1832. 66 THE WANDERING JEW. " What if even a single day after the date ?" " ' Should you even be delayed an hour over the prescribed time,' returned your mother, ' it will be destructive to the good I expect from the undertaking ; the 1 3th of February once passed, all is over.' She at the same moment put into my hands a thick packet, enjoining me to put it into the post-office of the first town we passed through ; and this I have done." " And do you calculate upon our reaching Paris by the appointed time?" " I trust so. But, if you think you are strong enough to bear the fatigue, I should like to double some of our marches ; for, only tra- velling as we now do, at the rate of five leagues a-day, even should we rscape all accidental delay, it will be impossible for us to arrive at our journey's end before the beginning of February, and it would be very much better to be there as much sooner as we could reach Paris." " But since our dear father is in India, and, being under sentence of death, unable to return to France, when shall we see him ? " " Yes, dear Dagobert, do tell us when and where AVC are to em- brace this beloved parent ? " " My poor children ! there are many things you have yet to learn. When the mysterious stranger last saw your father, he could not have ventured back to France. But circumstances have altered since then, and he may now do so with perfect safety." " Tell us ! tell us how, Dagobert ? " asked the sisters, eagerly. " Because, during the past year, the Bourbons, who exiled him, have, in their turn, been driven out of the kingdom ; the news will have long since reached India, and your father's first impulse would be to hasten to Paris, in the fond hope and expectation of finding your mother and selves assembled upon the all-important 13th of February of the coming year." " Ah!" said Rose, with a gentle sigh, "now I understand; and we may, indeed, hope to behold him ! " " Do you know the name of the strange traveller you have been telling us of, Dagobert?" " No ! my children. But let his name be what it might, he was a fine, noble-hearted man. When he took leave of your mother, she thanked him, with many tears, for his kindness to us all, and blessed him for his generous devotion to your dear father, he pressed her hands in his and said, in a sweet and gentle voice, which moved me in spite of myself, ' Why thank me ? has He not said, LOVE YE ONE ANOTHER?" " Who did he mean by HIM ? Yes, whom did the traveller allude to as speaking those words ? " " That I can't tell you ; but the tone and manner in which he uttered the expression seemed to touch my very heart, and those were the last syllables I heard him speak." " LOVE YE ONE ANOTHER I" repeated Rose, pensively. " What beautiful words ! " added Blanche. " And where was the traveller going ? Did he tell you ? " " Oh, far off far distant northwards, I heard him reply, when your mother questioned him on the subject of his farther travelling ; and when, after his departure, your 'mother was speaking to me of him, THE SURPRISE. 67 she said, < The tender yet mournful style of language'employed by the stranger, who has just gone, has affected me even to tears. Yet, while listening to him, I appeared happier in mind, and stronger in body, than I have done for years ; my heart seemed to beat with in- creased love for my husband and children, and yet the expression of his own countenance was that of a person who had never smiled or wept in his life.' I stood by your mother watching his departing steps, and, we both remarked, with slow, calm, yet measured steps, and looking downwards with a dejected and melancholy air and, talking of his steps, I observed " " What did you observe, Dagobert ? " " You remember that the pathway leading to the house was always damp, from the trickling of the small stream which flowed near it ? " " Oh, yes I we remember perfectly ! " " Well, then, I noticed that the impression of his foot remained on the soil, and that the nails in his boot were arranged in the form of a cross." " A cross ? " " Like this," said Dagobert, dotting with his finger the seven marks composing the cross, on the coverlet of the bed ; " there they were placed after this fashion, beneath the heel of his boot, O There, you see, that forms a perfect cross ! " " What could that possibly signify ? " " Any thing nothing. Yet it must, too, have had some meaning in it ; and, for my part, I could but look upon it as a bad presage for us, for, from the hour of his quitting us, one piece of ill-luck fol- lowed another." " Alas ! the death of my mother I " " Yes, indeed ; but, previously to that, a severe blow overtook us. You had not returned from your ramble, and your mother was pre- paring her petition requesting permission either to conduct you to France or to send you thither, when I heard the quick gallop of a horse ; it was a courier from the governor-general of Siberia, bringing an order for our change of residence, and bidding us prepare, in three days' time, to join a party of unfortunates who were condemned by the state to banishment in one of the most inclement parts of Asiatic Tar- tary, four hundred leagues beyond our present abode, and so much farther northwards. Thus, after fifteen years of exile, your poor mother was still to experience an increase of persecution and cruelty." " But, wherefore, Dagobert, was she thus severely treated ?" ' Itappeared as though some evil genius strove against her happiness. Had the traveller been but a day or two later, he would not have found us at Milosk ; and if he had subsequently visited us, the extreme distance would have rendered both the papers and medal useless, since, had we 68 THE WANDERING JEW. started on the instant, we could not have reached Paris by the given time." " * There must be some powerful interest concerned in keeping myself and children from Paris, or these harsh measures would never be resorted to,' said your mother ; ' for thus to increase the distance of our place of banishment upwards of four hundred leagues, is to place an insuperable obstacle to our being in Paris by the appointed day.' And this thought rendered her almost heart-broken." " And, perhaps, was the cause of the sudden malady which carried her off!" " Alas ! no, my child ; the accursed cholera, which, like the simoom of the desert, falls on all with deadly power, laid her low. Like the lightning comes this scourge of human life, and, like the thunderbolt, it strikes the young, the fair, the innocent, the beloved, the good, equally with the vile and wicked. None are safe from its dread poison, and, ere evening closed on our village, which, when the morn- ning dawned, had no sickness but that of fond hearts pining for home and dear-loved friends, five of our small population had fallen victims to its rapid and fatal progress ; while your precious mother, stricken unto death, lay in her last agonies, with barely sufficient strength re- maining to hang this medal round your neck, my poor dear Hose to commend you both to my most careful guidance and charge to beseech of me to set out with you both for France on the morrow to clasp her feeble arms about your necks and, with her last fond kiss, to give up her latest breath. Your mother dead, the government order of removal could in no way affect you, and, accordingly, the permission I requested of departing instantly with you was unhesitatingly granted. We, therefore, set out on the journey deemed so important by your " The poor soldier could not proceed sobs choked his voice ; and, throwing himself back on the seat he occupied, he tightly pressed his hard, horny fingers over the eyes which refused to contain the large drops gathered in them, while the sisters, tenderly embracing each other, mingled their sobs and tears. At length Dagobert uncovered his sunburnt face, and surveying the weeping girls with proud exultation, " There ! " said he, " upon that fearful occasion you, children as you were, shewed yourselves worthy of the brave father from whom you sprung. Spite of all re- monstrance as to the danger you incurred, it was found impossible to Avithdraw you from the bed of your dying mother your tender hands closed her eyes. When all forsook her corpse, from very dread, you boldly looked on death and dared contagion. Your young eyes, dimmed with weeping over this cruel bereavement, refused to close in sleep, and resolutely persisted in passing the night by the cold remains of her who in life had been so justly dear. Nor did you once lose sight of her till you saw me lay her in the humble grave I had dug when, weeping bitterly, you watched me place the small wooden cross I had made at the head of her last resting-place." Here Dagobert abruptly ceased. A strange and wild noise was heard, resembling the neighing of a terrified animal, mingled with the most savage and ferocious roarings, as though a whole menagerie had broken their bounds. The horror-stricken soldier sprung to his feet his time-worn countenance was blanched, with fear hastily he aiu- JOVIAL AND LA MORT. 69 dilated, " Tis the cry of Jovial! 'tis my old horse! What can have happened to him ? " and, hastily quitting the chamber, he rushed impetuously down the staircase. The two sisters, relapsing into their former terror at the abrupt departure of Dagobert, and tightly folded in each other's arms, saw not an enormous hand passed through the broken casement, open the. fastening of the window, push the two sashes violently open, and knock over the lamp placed on the little table, on which the old soldier had laid his wallet. The orphans were now left in impenetrable darkness. CHAPTER XL JOVIAL AND LA MORT. MOROK, having conducted Jovial into the middle of his menagerie, took off the covering which prevented his seeing or smelling. Scarcely had the tiger, lion, and panther, perceived him, than tl^e famished creatures rushed precipitately against the bars of their cages. The poor horse, seized with a sudden terror, stood with extended neck and fixed gaze, trembling in every limb, and as though glued to the ground, while a stream of thick, cold sweat ran from his panting sides. The lion and tiger, uttering fearful roarings, continued to pace violently up and down their dens, while the mute, concentrated fury of the panther was still more fearfully expressed. At the risk of dis- locating his neck, he, with one tremendous spring, dashed against the bars of his cage, then returning slowly and stealthily, though with in- creased ferocity, he again crouched down at the opposite extremity of his cage, preparatory to a fresh essay to burst the bars which held him an effort as futile, though more desperate, than the preceding: thrice had he taken his deadly spring in fearful silence, when the horse, passing from the first stupor of fear to the horrible terror of certain danger, neighed loudly and rushed with wild alarm to the door by which he had entered, but, finding it closed, his head drooped, his limbs bent, while he sniffed with expanded nostrils the trifling aperture between the door and the sill, as though anxious to escape the nauseous atmosphere by which he was surrounded, and to breathe again the open air ; then, becoming momentarily more aware of the danger of his situation, the poor brute filled the place with his loud neighings, while he kicked with desperate plunges against the door. At the moment when La Mort was preparing another death-dealing spring, the prophet approached his cage, and with his spear pushed back the heavy bolt which secured it. As the last portion of the iron rolled from the groove in which it was held, the prophet fled rapidly towards the ladder, and, ere a second had elapsed, had well-nigh reached his loft. The loud roaring of the lion and tiger, mingled with the cries of 70 THE WANDBRIKG JEW. Jovial, were no longer confined to the menagerie, but now resounded throughout the inn. Again the panther essayed a fresh bound, and this time with so determined a force, that, as the door flew open, he sprung into the very centre of the building. The light of the lamp left by Morok shone upon the sable lustre of the creature's coat, displaying the variegated spots which clothe its surface. For a few seconds the beast remained on the ground motion- less, its short legs gathered under it, and its head stretched out, as though calculating the force of the spring calculated to reach the horse. A brief instant, and La Mort darted upon the unfortunate animal. Jovial, on perceiving his enemy escape from his den, threw himself, with all his strength and power, against the door, which, unhappily for him, opened from without. In his struggles to escape, the horse plunged, kicked, beat the door with his head, and strove by every exer- tion to force a passage for himself, and, at the moment when La Mort sprung on him, M r as standing almost erect, striking against the door- posts with his fore-feet. The quick and deadly foe he sought to fly from seized him by the throat, tearing his chest with the sharp talons of his fore-paws. The first incision of the panther's terrific teeth divided the jugular vein, from which spouted forth jets of crimson blood, and covering the mouth and breast of the ravenous beast with its ensanguined stream ; but, not content with thus dealing poor Jovial his death-wound, the Java panther, raising himself on his hind-legs, forced the agonised brute against the door, where he held him, while, with his sharp claws, he tore open the heaving flanks of his victim. The shrieks of the tortured horse were now fearful to hear, and as the savage panther continued to mangle his quivering flesh, his cries, groans, and half-smothered attempts to neigh for his master, were most horribly distinct in the stillness of the night. All at once a voice was heard, exclaiming, " Jovial ! Jovial ! my fine fellow, your master is here ! Courage, my old boy, his master will save him ! " These words proceeded from Dagobert, who was vainly striving to break open the door behind which this sanguinary conflict was going on. "Jovial!" pursued the old soldier, "here I am. Don't mind them, my brave fellow ! Here, help I help ! " At the well-known and friendly sound the expiring animal endea- voured to turn his head towards the place from whence his master's voice proceeded, and to answer him with a faint note of recognition ; but, sinking under the devouring ferocity of the panther, he dropped, first on his knees, then on his side, so as to completely block up the .door, and effectually preventing any one opening it from without. All was now over. The panther, still eagerly pursuing his gluttonous and murderous repast, now bestrode the horse's body, and, tightly compressing him with his fore and hind paws, spite of poor Jovial's dying efforts to dislodge him, continued to bury his blood-stained muzzle in the palpi- tating entrails of the noble steed. " Help ! help I help I for heaven's sake, for my poor horse ! " JOVIAL AND LA MORT. 71 exclaimed Dagobert, vainly seeking to burst the lock ; then crying with impotent fury, " And I have no weapon ! oh, for uiy trusty weapons I My arms ! my arms ! " " Take care I " cried the conqueror of brutes, appearing at the opening which looked out from the loft on to the court-yard ; " attempt not to enter, or you will endanger your life I My panther is furious." " But my horse ! my horse ! " reiterated Dagobert, in a tone of beseeching earnestness. " Must have got out of his stable in the night and entered into the building here, by pushing the door open. No doubt the sight of him made the panther break through his bars and get out. You will have to answer for whatever may happen," added the tamer of beasts, in a threatening voice ; " for I must incur the most fearful risks in getting La Mort back to his cage." "But iny horse!" persisted Dagobert. "Save oh, save my horse ! " The prophet disappeared from the opening. The roaring of the animals, with the cries of Dagobert, awoke all the inmates of the White Falcon ; in all directions lights streamed from the windows, while heads were hastily thrust out to inquire the cause of all this unusual disturbance. Ere long the servants of the inn had assembled, lantern in hand, and, crowding round Dagobert, were loudly questioning him as to what had occurred. " My horse is in there, and one of this man's animals has got loose ! " cried the soldier, still frantically striving to burst the door. At these words the poss6 of half-dressed domestics, seized with a direful panic, still further augmented by the tremendous roaring of the beasts, fled in wild disorder to apprise the landlord of what had hap- pened. The agony of the old soldier while awaiting the opening of the door from within is wholly beyond the powers of language to describe. Pale, trembling, his ear tightly pressed against the keyhole, he listened in silent eagerness. By degrees the terrific howling of the animals ceased ; a deep, low roar was occasionally heard, mingled with the harsh voice of the prophet, endeavouring to restore tranquillity among the furious inhabitants of the menagerie. " La Mort ! here ! La Mort I I command ! So " The night was profoundly dark, and Dagobert, absorbed in his intense concern for the horse's safety, neither saw nor heard Goliath clambering over the tiled roof, so as to eflect an entrance by the garret- window into the chamber of his master. At this moment the yard-door again opened, and admitted the host of the White Falcon followed by a number of men, some armed with guns, others carrying pitchforks, sticks, or any defensive weapon they could hastily collect all, however, approached with considerable alarm and caution. " What is all this about ? " inquired the host, approaching Dago- bert. " Why is my inn to be upset in this way, I should like to know ? I wish all wild-beast showmen were at the devil, in company with the careless fellows who know not how to tie a horse up securely, when there is a strong halter and a good manger to fasten it to ! It is a confounded shame to be dragged out of one's bed in this unaccount- able manner I If your horse is injured, it serves you right you ought to have been more careful." 72 THE WANDERING JEW. The poor soldier heeded not these remarks ; in fact, he did not .ip|M ai to hear them, his whole soul seemed concentrated in listening to the sounds proceeding i'rom the menagerie, while, with a halt- impatient gesture, he sought to obtain the silence he desired to ascer- tain what was doing within its walls. Suddenly a fearfully ferocious roar was heard, accompanied by a shriek of pain from the prophet, and almost instantly the panther uttered a frightful yell. " Your negligence has, no doubt, caused some fatal accident," said the landlord of the inn to Dagobcrt. " Did you hear that cry ? Morok is, perhaps, dangerously wounded." Dagobcrt was about to reply, when the door opened, and Goliath appeared on the threshold, saying, " You can come in there is no danger now." The interior of the menagerie presented a most horrible spectacle. The prophet, pale and scarcely able to conceal his extreme agitation beneath his assumed mask of calm self-possession, was kneeling near the panther's cage, in an attitude of deep prayer; his lips only moved, and he seemed wrapped in a devotional reverie that rendered him alike unmindful and unconscious of what was passing around him. At length, compelled by the thronging crowd to rise from his knees, Morok cast his eyes upwards, and uttered, in a deep solemn voice, " Thanks, thanks ! O my God ! for having yet again prevailed by the power Thou hast given to mine arm !" Then crossing his arms on his breast, with imperious look and haughty brow, he seemed triumph- ing in his late victory over La Mort, who, extended at the bottom of his den, still howled piteously. The spectators of this scene, ignorant that the robe of the prophet concealed the suit of entire armour he wore, and attributing the cries of the panther to the supernatural terror he experienced, were struck with astonishment and admiration at the marvellous courage and in- trepidity of a single man. A little behind Morok stood the giant figure of Goliath, leaning on an ashen sapling, which served him as a lance to direct the movements of the beasts. And at no great distance from the panther's cage lay the remains of poor Jovial, surrounded by a sea of blood. At the sight of the mangled and still bleeding corpse of his dear and ancient comrade, the rough countenance of the old soldier assumed an expression of the most touching grief, hopeless as it was. The poor fellow, kneeling beside his horse, raised his head, as though still seeking a vestige of life ; but when he beheld the fixed glassy eye but lately so bright and intelligent, Dagobert gently laid it down, and, covering his face with his hands, gave way to the most bitter lament- ations, forgetting, in his sorrow at the loss of so valued and cherished a friend, all considerations save his bitter regret at the horrible fate of his poor old charger his unflinching companion in fatigue or battle, who, like himself, bore wounds and scars to commemorate the hard lights they had mutually shared in, and who for nearly twenty years had daily fed from his hand and joyfully welcomed his approach. En- grossed by the most painful reminiscences of all Jovial had been, mingled with the deepest sorrow of his having met with so unworthy an end to all his services, the veteran thought not once of the severe interruption this accident would prove to the important journey he THE MENAGERIE. P. 7*. iii.l Hall. .lii'iiui-y I. l I ' JOVIAL AND LA MORT. 73 had undertaken, or by what means the young girls he was conducting to Paris would now be able to proceed. The intense grief of the old soldier was so evident in the agony delineated on his weather-beaten features, that even the host of the Falcon, with his group of followers, could not refuse their sympathy and pity at the sight of the old man kneeling in such bitter sorrow beside his dead horse. But when pursuing his regrets at the violent end his favourite had come to, he remembered that Jovial had shared his exile, and had borne the mother of his young charges through a long and fatiguing journey, even as he had since carried the children, then the fatal con- sequences of being at this critical juncture deprived of the unfor- tunate animal, flashed on his mind in all their force. Rage succeeded to grief, and as the soldier awoke from his laments over his friend to a clear sense of his present peril and destitution, fury flashed from his eyes, and springing on the prophet, whom he justly considered as the cause of all his misfortunes, he seized him by the throat, while he struck him repeatedly on the breast, but the h'rm coat of mail worn beneath the soft wrapping robe of Morok, prevented this effusion of wrath from taking the slightest effect. " Wretch !" exclaimed Dagobert, still continuing his blows ; " you shall dearly pay for all this !" The slight frame of Morok would have had no chance against an antagonist of Dagobert's uncommon size and strength, and it required the combined power of Goliath and the host of the Falcon to rescue the prophet from the firm grasp of the soldier. When at length the combatants were separated, Morok was white and almost convulsed with so deadly a rage, that it required all Goliath's enormous strength to prevent his assailing Dagobert with the spear of the giant. " Your conduct is most disgraceful," said the landlord, addressing Dagobert, who was standing with his clenched hand tightly compressed against his bald forehead. " You expose this worthy man to the risk of being devoured by his own beasts, and then try to murder him I Is that the way for an old soldier like you to behave ? You shewed far more sense in the early part of the evening." The words recalled the soldier to himself, and made him the more regret his impetuosity, as he knew that, being a stranger, he should be sure to have the worst chance of justice. It was, besides, absolutely necessary that he should be indemnified for the loss of poor Jovial, because the delay of a single day might peril every thing he had at heart to achieve. Making a violent effort, therefore, to restrain him- self, he replied in an agitated voice he strove to render calm, " You are right. I was too hasty ! True, I forgot the patience I exercised before. But surely this man ought to replace my horse. I ask you to judge fairly between us." " Well, then," answered the other, " if you leave it to my decision, I shall give it against you. You are alone to blame for all the mischief that has ensued. You must have tied your horse up very carelessly, and, in consequence, he has strayed from his stable and entered this barn, the door of which was probably left half-open," added the host of the White Falcon, evidently siding with the tamer of beasts. " You are right, master," chimed in Goliath ; " I recollect purposely 74 THE WANDERING JEW. leaving the door ajar to give the animals air. I knew the cages were well secured, and (hat there was not the slightest danger." " Of course not, if all was well looked to and fast," responded the crowd. " And no doubt it was the sight of the horse rendered the panther furious, and made him break out," added another. " I think the prophet has the greatest cause for complaint," said a third. " It is very immaterial to me what any of you think or say," said Dagobert, whose patience was beginning to leave him. " What / say and what / insist upon is, that he either gives me as good a horse as that his beast has killed, or the price of one, and that, too, without delay, that I may instantly quit this unlucky spot." " You will find," said Morok, " that it is I who require recom- pensing for the mischief done," and having purposely reserved this coup de theatre as a finale, he exhibited his left hand which lie had hitherto kept concealed in the bosom of his furred robe, and displayed it wounded and bleeding. " There," said he, " behold the effects of your inexcusable negligence in not taking more care of your horse, this wound, received while forcing the infuriated panther back to his cage, has probably lamed me for life." Without being of the dangerous description stated by the prophet, the wound was sufficiently frightful to attract universal sympathy and pity. Reckoning, no doubt, upon this incident as certain to obtain a favourable decision for a cause he looked upon as his own affair, the landlord of the Falcon said, turning to a stable lad, who stood near him, " There is but one means of settling this dispute. Go and call up the burgomaster, and beg of him to come hither with all speed ; he will decide who is right and who is wrong." " The very thing I was going to propose," said the soldier ; " for, talk as I may, I cannot obtain justice unaided." " Fritz ! " said the host, " run to the burgomaster." The lad went instantly, and his master fearing to be involved in the inquiry which would take place, and probably punished for having on the previous evening omitted to ask the soldier for his passport, &c., said, " The burgomaster will be preciously cross at being disturbed at such an unreasonable hour : I have no taste for coming in for a share of it, therefore, I will thank you to go and fetch your passport and requisite papers, if you are duly provided with them, for I did very wrong in not demanding them upon your arrival last evening." " They are in my travelling bag, up stairs in the bedroom," an- swered the soldier ; "you shall have them instantly !" Then averting his head, and putting his hand before his eyes, as he passed the body of Jovial, he quitted the place to return to the sisters. The eye of the prophet followed him with a triumphant glare, say- ing, mentally, " He has now neither horse, money, nor papers more I am for- bidden to do ; and I must likewise proceed with cautious steps that no suspicions may fall upon me. I have so far managed cleverly, that all blame must rest on the soldier for what has happened ; and one thing i very certain, that several days must elapse ere he can continue his THE BURGOMASTER. 75 route, which is the great point aimed at in all I have done, though still I work blindly, and wholly unable to comprehend the deep im- portance attached to delaying the progress of an old man and two young girls. Well, well, I am but an agent." A quarter of an hour after these reflections had crossed the mind of the brute-conqueror, Karl, Goliath's comrade, quitted the conceal- ment he had observed by his master's commands, and departed for Leipsic, bearing a letter hastily penned by Morok, and which Karl was instructed to put in the post immediately on his arrival in that city. The letter was addressed, " A Monsieur " Monsieur Rodin, Rue du Milieu-des-Ureins, No. 11, A Paris, France." CHAPTER XII. THE BURGOMASTER. THE disquiet of Dagobert was increased by his entire conviction that the death of poor Jovial had not been accidental, and that nothing was more improbable than that an animal of his steady and well-dis- ciplined habits should have broken from his own stable to wander into a den of beasts. This deplorable accident, therefore, he ascribed to the wickedness and malice of the master of the menagerie, though in vain did he try to find a cause for such determined persecution ; and he reflected with alarm that the decision of his just cause was at the sole mercy of a man whose displeasure at being thus roused from his slumbers might possibly fall upon him, and induce the irritated and weary burgomaster to condemn him upon false appearances. Firmly resolved to conceal from the orphans as long as he possibly could the new misfortune which had overtaken him, he proceeded to their chamber, when, at the door, he stumbled over Kill-joy ; for, after having failed in his attempts to prevent the prophet from leading Jovial away, the faithful dog had returned to his post. " Thank Heaven for that," murmured poor Dagobert ; " the dog, at least, has kept watch over the poor children," added the old man, gently opening the door : to his great surprise the chamber was in utter darkness. "How comes it, my children," exclaimed he, "that I find you thus without light?" No answer was returned. Terrified, he hastily groped his way to the bed, and took the hand that lay nearest to him alas! it was icy cold. "Rose I my child- ren I " screamed the old man, in an agony of fear " Blanche ! oh, speak to me you alarm me excessively I " Still no reply ; and the rigid fingers fell heavy and helplessly again on the coverlet. The moou, breaking through the mass of dark cloud* which had 76 THE WANDERING JEW. hitherto obscured her beams, shone brightly through the window- panes on to the little bod placed immediately opposite, and revealed to him the sisters fainting in each other's arms, their pale countenances assuming a still more corpse-like hue from the reflection of the moon- light. " Poor dear children ! they have been reduced to this state by fear," cried Dagobert, feeling in his pocket for the small flask he usually carried with him ; " but who can wonder at it after such a trying day as they have passed through ? " So saying, the soldier moistened the corner of one of their hand- kerchiefs with a few drops of brandy ; and, kneeling down beside the bed, lightly passed it over the temples of the sisters, and again apply- ing the saturated linen to the nostrils of each. JStill kneeling by their side, and bending his dark swarthy countenance, expressive of the most anxious solicitude, over the young orphans, Dagobert waited, with intense interest, the effect of the only restorative he had it in his power to administer. At length a convulsive tremor, passing over the frame of Rose, in- spired the old man with fresh hopes. She soon turned upon her pil- low sighing deeply ; then, starting up, perceived Dagobert, whom she did not recognise, through the imperfect light of the moon, and at once frightened and surprised she clung to Blanche, loudly calling upon her for help. Happily the rough but well-meant cares of the soldier began to take effect on the tender frame of Blanche, and the cries of her sister completely roused her from her unconscious state ; sharing her terrors without being aware of the cause of them, she tightly enfolded her sister in her arms. " Heaven be praised ! " said Dagobert, " the colour is returning to their cheeks, they will soon be quite restored I That is all right; and these attacks are merely the effects of a weak nature, and soon pass away;" then speaking in a more soothing tone, he added, "There! now you are better ! are you not ? Come, my children, courage, eourage, see, it is Dagobert only Dagobert ! just tell me you are well, and pleased I have come back to you." Both sisters sprung towards their tender nurse, and, looking at him with countenances still agitated and uneasy, smiled gratefully, and by one simultaneous movement held out their arms to him, crying, in glad tones, " Oh, Dagobert ! how glad we are to see you ! Now we are safe !" " Yes, dear children ! " returned the veteran, taking their hands, and pressing them with the tenderness of a fond father, " I will see that no further harm shall befall you. But what terrified you so much while I was absent?" " Oh, Dagobert, do not ask us to tell you We were almost dead with fright." " Yes, indeed, if you only knew ! " " But how came the lamp extinguished ? " " We did not do it." " Come, dear children, collect your courage, and tell me every thing that took place after I quitted the room ; this inn does not seem to me very secure, fortunately we shall soon quit it it was a bad job for us ever to have entered it ; but, then, what could we do ? there was no THE BURGOMASTER. 77 other place for us to halt at for the night; but tell me what happened to alarm you so very much ? " " Scarcely had you left us than the window came open with a vio- lent noise, and the lamp fell off the table with a frightful crash ; and we were so alarmed that we threw ourselves into each other's arms, screaming for help, and we fancied some person was walking about the chamber. And all that terror made us as ill as you found us, good, kind Dagobert ; we felt as if we should die ; and so we thought of our dear mother, who promised we should go to her then." Unfortunately adhering to his original belief, that the violence of the wind had broken the glass of the window and forced it open, Dagobert still blamed himself for imperfectly fastening the casement. Setting down this second alarm of the sisters to the same cause as the preceding one, and even judging that their extreme terror had exag- gerated the circumstances they related, " That is all over now, and done with," replied he, " so calm your- selves, and think no more about it !" " But what made you quit us so hastily, Dagobert ? " " Yes ! now, I recollect don't you, sister ? We heard a great noise down stairs, and then Dagobert rushed out, exclaiming, ' My horse ! what can they be doing to my horse ? ' It was Jovial neigh- ing very loudly, was it not ? what was the matter with him? " These questions recalled to the mind of the soldier the many griefs and difficulties by which he was now surrounded ; he feared to reply lest he should betray the fearful predicament in which they were placed, he therefore answered, with an air of assumed indiffer- ence, " Yes, it was Jovial neighing, but that was all ; but we must have a light. Do you remember where I put my fire-box last night ? Why, I am growing old and stupid, and forget every thing. Here it is, all the while in my pocket : fortunately we have a candle so I will just light it, and then look in my wallet for some papers I require." As Dagobert completed his operation of procuring a light and alluraing the candle, he perceived that the sisters' account of their recent fright had not been overcolourcd, for the casement was half- open, the table and lamp knocked over, and on the ground beside him lay his haversack. The veteran closed and fastened the window, replaced the table-lamp and bag, then, taking the latter in his hands, he carefully unclasped it, in order to take out the pocket-book, which, as well as his cross and purse, were deposited in a species of false pocket, constructed between the outer case of leather and the lining ; and so carefully were the different straps and fastenings re-adjusted, that a more suspicious mind than Dagobcrt's would never have sup- posed its contents had been subjected to any scrutiny but his own. The soldier thrust his hand into the accustomed aperture in search of his papers. The pocket was entirely empty. Thunderstruck at this additional outrage, Dagobert started with amazed looks; again the blood forsook his timeworn countenance, and, in accents of deep distress, he exclaimed, " Gone ! That too !" " Dagobert I" said Blanche, " what can be the matter ?" fie, answered not 78 THE WANDERING JEW. For some minutes he continued vacantly gazing around him, one hand grasping the table near which he stood as though to prevent himself from falling, the other mechanically pressing the sides of the pocket where he had left his lost treasures. Then, as though inspired by a sudden hope (for so cruel a reality seemed more than it was possible to believe), he eagerly emptied the contents of the wallet on the table. They consisted merely of some trifling articles of half- worn-out clothing, and his old uniform of the Imperial Dragoon- guards, in his eyes an inestimable relic; but in vain did Dagobert unfold and shake out each article, no trace either of his purse or the pocket-book (containing his cross and the letters of General Simon) could be found. And then, with that almost childish tenacity of purpose which frequently attends a hopeless search, the soldier took the haversack by the two corners, and shook it with desperate energy ; alas ! equally without finding that which he sought. The orphans, unable to comprehend either the silence or conduct of Dagobert, whose back was towards them, looked at each other in great un- easiness. At length Blanche ventured to say, in a timid voice, ' What ails you, Dagobert ? You do not speak to us ? And what are you looking for in your bag ?" Still deaf to every inquiry, the soldier commenced a strict search through all his pockets, turning them completely out, but still in vain ; and this great calamity was, perhaps, the first thing in his life that had ever rendered him unmindful of the words of his children, as he loved to style the orphans. Tears suffused the eyes of the sisters at this continued silence on the part of their old friend ; and now believing that Dagobert was displeased with them, they durst not address him further. " No no no ! it cannot be ! I will not believe it I No, no! " uttered the veteran. " I cannot ! I dare not think them really gone " repeated he, pressing one hand on his forehead, and seeking to recall to his memory some probable place where he might have deposited objects so precious. A sudden ray of hope darted across his mind, and, quick as light- ning, he placed on a chair the small valise belonging to the orphans. It contained merely a few changes of linen, two black dresses, and a small white box, in which were enclosed a silk handkerchief that had been their mother's, two locks of her hair, and a black riband she generally wore round her neck. The little she possessed had been seized by the Russian government when her estates were confiscated. Dagobert turned each article over and over, searched even the very corners of the valise, but, alas ! he found not what he sought. And now, completely bewildered and exhausted, the unhappy man felt his strength both of body and mind desert him ; he, so unmindful of fatigue, so energetic, so bold, now felt a conscious weakness steal- ing over him, his knees tottered under him, a cold sweat bedewed his face, and he clung to the chair on which he had rested the valise to keep himself from falling. It is commonly asserted a drowning man will catch at a straw, it is so with persons who, however desperate their circumstances, refuse to surrender themselves to despair. Dagobert, clinging to any suggestion, however fallacious, absurd, or improbable, turned round abruptly to THE LOSS DISCOVERED. P. 78. I. UIlll":: THE BURGOMASTER. 79 the orphans and said, without recollecting his altered voice and looks, " Tell me, quickly ! did I not give them to you to keep for me ? Speak, speak I put me out of suspense." Instead of replying to him, Rose and Blanche, terrified at the paleness of his countenance and wildness of his looks, uttered a cry of fear and distress. " Dear, dear Dagobert," murmured Rose, softly, " what can be the matter with you ?" " Have you got them, or have you not ?" exclaimed the wretched man, whose brain was quite unsettled by the severity of the shock he had sustained ; and, contrary to his usual habit, vociferating his demand in a voice of thunder. " If you have not, I will seize the first knife I can find and bury it in my wretched heart !" Good, kind Dagobert ! pray forgive us if we have offended you !" " You love us too well to see us grieve ; so pray tell us what has thus changed you, Dagobert." And thus uniting their tearful petitions, the orphans extended their hands in earnest supplication towards the soldier. For a time the veteran, as though unconscious that they spoke, continued to gaze with a wild, vacant, haggard look; but as the con- fusion of his brain subsided and reason resumed her power, he became clearly and fully aware of all the miseries which would result from this last climax of evil, and the fearful consequences that would follow their utter privation of means to reach Paris : the rude soldier felt in that dread hour the need of some superior aid to any earth could afford, and falling on his knees beside the orphans, and clasping his hard, sunburnt hands, he rested his aching forehead upon them and wept bitterly. Yes, the iron-framed soldier sobbed like an infant while he uttered in broken accents, "Pardon, pardon! alas! I know not Oh, miserable man! oh, misfortune too great to bear ! Pardon ! oh, pardon !" At this burst of grief, the cause of which they could not compre- hend, but which, coming from one whose usual firmness and resolu- tion were so completely opposed to any outward display of distress, the sisters fondly threw their arms around his grey head as it rested on the covering of their bed, and weeping bitterly, exclaimed, " Look up, dear Dagobert ! look at your poor children ! Tell them what makes you so very unhappy, and say they have not done any thing to cause your grief." Advancing steps were now heard on the staircase. At the same time Kill-joy, who still kept watch outside the door, barked furi- ously. The nearer the sounds approached the more violent became the growling of the dog, who was evidently proceeding to more hostile measures, for the voice of the innkeeper was heard exclaiming, in an angry tone, " Halloa ! there ! you ! Speak to your dog, will you ? Call him, I say ! The burgomaster is coming up stairs." " Dagobert I" cried Rose, " do you hear what they say? The burgomaster is coming ! " " Hark 1" said Blanche, "persons are coming towards this room." 80 THE WANDERING JEW. The name of the burgomaster recalled Dagobert completely to him- self, and presented before his mental vision the entire tableau of his terrible situation. His horse was dead ; he had neither money nor passport, and a single day's delay would ruin the future prospects of the two poor girls committed to his charge with dying earnestness, and render the fatigues and perils they had already undergone of no avail. Men of Dagobert's firm, daring nature will frequently survey a positive and declared danger with greater equanimity than they can endure the agonising suspense of evils whose termination is all uncer- tain, and dependent on petty causes, over which they have no control. But the plain good sense of the veteran, sharpened by his devoted attachment to his orphan charges, quickly pointed out to him that his only hope was in the justice of the burgomaster's decision, and that his every effort must be directed to interest that functionary in his cause. Thus resolved, he rose from his knees, wiped the tears from his eyes on the corner of the bed-clothes he had convulsively grasped in his hand, and standing calmly and erect before the sisters, said, " Fear nothing, my dear children ! it must be the friend I trusted would arrive to serve us ! " " Are you going to call your dog away ? " vociferated the inn- keeper, still prevented from advancing beyond the stairs by the deter- mined vigilance of Kill-joy, who resolutely forbade all further approach up the passage. " Is the beast mad ? Why don't you tie him up ? You have caused mischief enough in the place, I think. I tell you that the burgomaster having heard the prophet's account of the dis- turbance, now wishes to learn what you have got to say for yourself." Poor Dagobert, feeling that an eventful moment had arrived, upon the result of which the future fate of the sisters depended, and desirous of appearing to all possible advantage in the eyes of the important personage he was about to be placed before, began to improve his per- sonal appearance by passing his fingers through his grey locks, smoothing his moustache, adjusting the buckle of his military coat, and polishing up his gold-striped sleeves. Yet the heart of the brave fellow beat with a terror it had never felt when facing death in all its most frightful forms, as he laid his hand on the lock of the door, and turning to the orphans, who, perplexed and affrighted at so many strange events, looked after him with earnest and beseeching gaze, said, encouragingly, " Remain quite still and quiet in your bed, my dear children, and if it be necessary that any one should visit our room, the burgomaster alone shall enter." Then, advancing to the staircase, the soldier exclaimed, " Down, Kill-joy ! down ! " The animal obeyed with the most evident reluctance, and it was not until his master had been twice compelled to interpose his autho- rity that he seemed disposed to relinquish his hostile intentions towards the innkeeper, who, holding his cap in one hand and a lantern in the other, respectfully preceded the burgomaster, whose magisterial figure was concealed by the shadow of the staircase. At some distance behind the judge might be indistinctly seen, by the dull glimmering of a second lantern, a group of curious spectators, consisting of the servants and helpers belonging to the inn. THE INVESTIGATION. 81 Dagobert having shut Kill-joy up in the chamber of the orphans, and carefully closed the door, advanced a few steps on the landing- place, which was large enough to contain several persons, and in one corner of which was a wooden bench with a back to it. The burgomaster, who had just reached the top of the stairs as Dagobert closed and fastened the door, seemed much astonished at a proceeding which seemed like interdicting his right of entrance. " Wherefore do you close that door ? " inquired he, in an abrupt tone. " In the first place, because two young girls, who are under my care, are sleeping there ; and secondly, because, should they overhear your interrogatories, it would alarm them very much," answered Da- gobert. " Sit down here, M. le Bourguiestre, and put what questions you please to me ; it is the same thing to you, I suppose, where the examination takes place?" " And by what right do you presume to dictate to me the place where you shall be examined?" inquired the functionary, with an appearance of displeasure. " Nay, M. le Bourgmestre," returned Dagobert, dreading, above all things, to prejudice his visitor against him ; " far be it from me to dictate, only, as the young girls are in bed, and already much fright- ened, you would be acting most kindly towards them if you would be so good as to interrogate me here." " Humph ! here ! " returned the magistrate, grumbling. " A pretty thing for a person like me to be dragged out of bed at this hour of the night ! Well be it so I will examine you here, then, since you desire it." Then, turning to the innkeeper, he said, " Set down your lantern on that bench, and leave us." The landlord obeyed, and departed with his followers, equally disappointed with them that he was not permitted to be present at the examination. The old soldier was now left alone with the burgomaster. CHAPTER XIII. THE INVESTIGATION. THE worthy burgomaster of Mockern, attired in a cloth cap and large cloak, seated himself on the bench, which groaned beneath his ponderous weight ; he was an excessively stout man, about sixty years of age, his countenance was morose and forbidding, and he kept con- tinually applying his large red hands to rub his eyes, which were evidently suffering from the unusually early hour at which he had been compelled to throw off his slumbers. Dagobert, standing beside him, holding his old military cap in his hands, waited his inquiries with an air of respectful submission, while \vit.h a timid glance at the harsh, repulsive features of the magistrate, lie sought to read what hopes there were for his cause, or rather that of the poor orphans. During these trying moments the old soldier 6 G 82 THE WANDERING JEW. called to his aid all his coolness, reason, eloquence, and resolution : IIP who had twenty times looked on death with calm indifference and despised danger; he who, self-possessed and firm, because tried and sincere, had never even lowered his glance before the eagle-eye of his emperor his hero, his divinity now found himself trembling and utterly confused before the gaze of a scowling provincial functionary. So had he also brought himself to endure with imperturbable resignation the taunts and insults of the prophet on the preceding evening, that he might not, by indulging in suggestions of his own chafed spirit, in any manner compromise the sacred mission entrusted to him by a dying mother ; thus proving the heroism and self-denial a simple upright heart can attain. " Come, make haste ! Let's hear what you have to say in your defence I" said the judge, in a brutal tone, yawning at the same time with impatient drowsiness. " I have nothing to defend, M. le Bourgmestre ; on the contrary, I have a complaint to make," answered Dagobert, in a firm voice. " Are you going to teach me, fellow I in what form I am to put my questions ?" exclaimed the magistrate, in so sharp a manner that the veteran, blaming himself for having so badly opened the con- versation, and earnestly seeking to propitiate his judge, hastened to reply submissively, " Your pardon, M. le Bourgmestre ! I expressed myself badly. I only wished to say that I have been in no way to blame in the late affair." " The prophet says differently." " The prophet !" repeated Dagobert, with a contemptuous smile. "A most pious, worthy man !" added the judge; " quite incapable of uttering a falsehood !" " That is a point on which I have nothing to say, M. le Bourg- mestre ; but you are too good and too just to decide without hearing me. It is easy to perceive you are not the sort of person to deny justice to any one. I feel quite sure of that," added Dagobert. who, in thus playing a courtier's part against his own inclinations, endeavoured to render his performance still more correct by softening his voice and enlivening his austere features jvith a smiling, conciliating, and winning expression. " A man like you," continued the soldier, redoubling his flattery, " a judge so highly respectable, does not hear with one ear only." " Ears have nothing to do with the matter, but, as far as 'seeing' goes, is ' believing.' Why, my eyes, which smart as though they had been rubbed with nettles, have seen the hand of the master of these wild beasts, and it is dreadfully torn." " I don't dispute that, M. le Bourgmestre ; but only consider, if he had secured his door and the cages of his animals properly, none of this mischief would have happened." " Yes it would : it was all your fault. You ought to have fastened your horse more carefully to his manger." " You are quite right, M. le Bourgmestre, quite right, nobody can speak more sensibly," said the poor soldier, increasing in soft concilia- tion and flattery in proportion as he perceived the prejudiced view his interrogator had already taken of the case. " It is not for a poor devil THE INVESTIGATION. 83 like me to contradict you ! But suppose now that any one, for mischief's sake, had untied my horse, and led him into the menagerie, you would say then would you not ? that it was not my fault ; or, at least," said the old man, fearing he had gone too far, " you will ad- mit that fact if it is your pleasure to think so ; because it is not for such as I am to dictate to YOU !" " And what, in the devil's name, leads you to suppose any body has played you such a trick ? What motive could they have had ?" " That is more than I can imagine, M. le Bourgmestre ; " but still ' " But still you don't know ! Well, no more do I," exclaimed the burgomaster, in a peevish tone ; then added impatiently, " Here's a mighty fuss and coil about the carcase of a dead horse !" The countenance of the old soldier at these words lost all its assumed gentleness, its harsh expression returned, and he replied, in a serious and agitated voice, " True, but a carcase remains of my old friend my faithful horse, who but a few hours ago was so full of health and courage, and though old, still so intelligent and vigorous. Scarcely an hour ago he neighed joyfully at me as I gave him his meal, and each night he licked the hands of the dear children he carried through the long day, even as he had borne their mother. But now he will never rejoice in my ap- proach, never again carry his kind mistress or her children ; he is fit but to be thrown on the dunghill and to become the food of dogs, that is all he is good for now. It was not worth while, M. le Bourg- mestre, to recall all this to me so cruelly, for I dearly loved my poor horse." These words, pronounced with a simple, dignified manner and tone, made the functionary feel sorry that he had provoked the regrets of a man who thus loved even a horse ; he hastily interrupted Dagobert, saying, in a voice of greater kindness, " I can suppose you regret the loss of your beast ; but what can be said ? It is an accident, and you must bear it. I will even say it is a misfortune." " A misfortune, M. le Bourgmestro, of the deepest consequences. The two young girls whom I am accompanying are not strong enough to undertake a long journey on foot, and are too poor to travel by any public conveyance ; and yet it is indispensable that we should be in Paris before the month of February. I promised the mother of these children, on her death-bed, to conduct them to the time and place she desired. And the poor things have no one in the world to protect them but me." " You, then, are their " " Most faithful friend and servant, M. le Bourgmestre ; and now that they have killed my horse, how shall I be able to proceed on my journey ? You who look so good and speak so kind have, perhaps, children of your own. Oh ! if they should ever be situated as my poor orphans are, with no other possessions in the world than an old soldier and an equally aged horse, if, after having been born and reared in mi- sery, for these dear children were bom in exile, where their poor mother died if, after passing their early days in sorrow and banishment, a bright future awaited them at the end of this journey, and if this 84 THE WANDERING JEW. journey were rendered impossible by the loss of the horse, would not their painful position move you to pity them ? and would you not, like me, look upon the death of your horse as an irreparable misfortune?" " Certainly I should," answered the burgomaster, who was not a bad-hearted man, though hasty and abrupt in the discharge of his duty, and who began to feel a powerful sympathy with the sorrows of the old soldier. " And I can well believe the loss of your beast is a most serious loss to you ; but I feel interested in the fate of your orphan children : what are their ages ?" " Fifteen years and two months. They are twin sisters." " Fifteen years and two months ! Very nearly the same age as my Frederica." " You have, then, a daughter of similar age ?" inquired Dagobert, fresh hope springing up at the idea. " Thank Heaven ! for now, M. le Bourgmestre, the fate of my poor orphans no longer disquiets me. You, a wise and upright judge, and, moreover, a parent, will see justice done us." " Of course I shall. What is the use of my being a magistrate else ? But really, in this affair between you and the prophet, I think the case is pretty equal. On the one hand, you failed in securing your horse properly in his stable ; he gets out. Well, then the beast- tamer leaves his menagerie door open. Then he asserts, ' I have been wounded in the hand.' To which you reply, ' My horse has been killed, and, for various reasons, the loss of my horse is irreparable.' " " You express my meaning far better than I could do it myself, M. le Bourgmestre," said the veteran, with a humble and quiescent smile. " That is just the sense of what I should say if I were to talk for an hour, for even you, M. le Magistral, admit that the horse his beast killed was all I possessed in the world, and that, therefore, it is but just " " Of course, of course," replied the burgomaster, interrupting the soldier, " your reasoning is excellent ; besides, the prophet, who is as clever as he is pious and good, has very clearly laid all the facts of the case before me, added to which, he is well known here. You see we are all devout Catholics in this village, and this holy man sells exceed- ingly cheap and wondrously edifying books among our young people ; then he lets our wives and daughters have his rosaries, chaplets, and figmis Dei, almost at a loss. To be sure, as you will justly observe, that has not much to do with the present affair. Nor more it has ; and yet I declare, upon my conscience as an honest man, that when I came up stairs I had made up my mind to " " To decide against me ! was it not so, M. le Bourgmestre ? " re- turned Dagobert, becoming each instant more re-assured as to his success. " Ah, that was because you were only half-awake. Your justice had only opened one eye. " Good, my friend ! " answered the burgomaster, now roused into perfect serenity of temper ; " it may be as you say for, at my first coming hither, I did not conceal from Morok that I considered he was the party aggrieved, and should decide accordingly ; when he very generously remarked, ' Then, since you pronounce in my favour, I will not aggravate the position of my adversary by telling you what I otherwise could concerning him." THE INVESTIGATION. 83 " Concerning me ? and to my prejudice ? " " So it would seem : but, like a generous enemy, he was silent, after I had assured him that, according to appearances, I should sen- tence j'ou (conditionally) to make him an ample atonement for the pain and trouble you had occasioned him ; for I will candidly inform you, that, before you had adduced such good reasons to make me think you less to blame than I had been led to believe you were, I had fully re- solved on adjudging you to pay a very heavy indemnity to the prophet for the wound inflicted through your carelessness on his hand." " You see now, M. le Bourgmestre, how possible it is for even the most just and clever men to be deceived : however, the wiser the man the readier he is to acknowledge his error ; and no prophet, witch, or wizard, can hinder him from seeing clearly at last," added Dagobert, reassuming his flattering tone and manner, hoping, by increased atten- tion to his judge, to win his favourable consideration for his just de- mand for the means of prosecuting his journey without delay. The burgomaster appeared, however, to take little note of the veteran's strenuous attempts to place himself and his cause in a pro- pitious light, until, looking up, he perceived the chuckling, self-satisfied air of Dagobert, whose countenance seemed to say, " What do you think of my powers of persuasion ? I am quite surprised at my own skill and manoeuvres." Upon which the magistrate smiled a smile of paternal patronage ; then added, with a miserable attempt at a joke, *' Ay ! ay I you are right about clever men, and being con- vinced ; and the prophet will turn out a FALSE prophet THIS time. No, no! I shall not inflict any penalty upon you, because I think one has as much to complain of as the other ; and so one piece of mischief makes up for the other; he has received a severe wound, and your horse has been killed : so it seems to me that you are even witii one another." " And how much do you suppose he ought to pay me ? " inquired the soldier, with singular simplicity. " What is that you say ? " " I ask, M. le Bourgmestre, the amount of the sum he shall give me?" " What the devil are you talking about ? What sum ?" " Yes, the sum. But, before you name it, M. le Bourgmestre, I must tell you one thing I consider that I have a right to employ the money as I please ; therefore I shall not expend it all in the purchase of a horse. I am quite sure that, among the country people in the en- virons of Leipsic, I shall find a horse at a cheap price ; and I will even go so far as to own, between ourselves, that if even I could meet with a good strong ass, I would try to make shift with it not that 1 should like it nearly so well. But another horse would be almost painful to me, after my poor Jovial, the companion of so many journeys ; there- fore, I ought to say to you " " What are you gabbling about ? " cried the burgomaster, inter- rupting Dagobert. " And what money, ass, or other horse are you talk- ing of? I tell you again, that you owe nothing to the prophet, neither does he owe you any thing ! " " Not owe me any thing ? " " You have a very thick skull, my good man ; there seems no 86 THE WANDERING JEW. knocking any sense into it. I tell you once more, and for the last time, that if the wild beasts belonging to the prophet have killed your horse, the prophet himself has been severely wounded, so you are even with each other ; or, if you like it better, I will say that he has nothing to repay you, neither have you him. Now have I made you comprehend ? " Dagobert, quite stupified at finding his hopes thus destroyed by so unfair a decision, remained for some time regarding the burgomaster with an expression of deep anguish of mind. At length he replied, in a voice in which powerful emotion strove against his forced calmness, " Nay, M. le Bourgmestre, you are, I am sure, too just to over- look one circumstance. The wound received by the owner of the beasts will not prevent his continuing his daily occupation, while the death of my horse entirely prevents me from proceeding on my journey. Surely that ought to make a great difference between us, and call for his indemnifying me for the loss I have sustained." The magistrate, as we before stated, thought he had done much for Dagobert in excusing him from making any recompense to the prophet, who, as was previously stated, was in the habit of currying favour with the female part of the village, by selling them cheap articles of a religious character, such as rosaries, chaplets, and other trifles, said to be endowed with marvellous powers ; he also vended spiritual pamphlets and Scriptural tracts, ! at so small a price as rendered him, combined with the reported sanctity of his life, an excessive fa- vourite among all the strict Catholics in the place : added to this, he was well known to be powerfully aided and protected by persons of high rank and power, so that it became no easy matter to decide any point against him. Thus, then, the importunity of the soldier greatly displeased his judge, who, resuming his original harsh and severe as- pect, replied, angrily, " Do you wish to make me regret my impartiality ? What ! instead of thanking me, you have the face to make further demands ?" " M. le Bourgmestre, I ask but for that which is just and right. I would gladly suffer my hand to be more severely injured than is that of the prophet, so I could but continue my journey." " We have nothing to do with what you would like or dislike. I have pronounced judgment the case is ended." " But, M. le Bourgmestre " " Enough, enough, I tell you I No more of it. Let us proceed to the next thing. Shew me your passport and papers." " Yes, we will talk about the papers directly ; but, I beseech you, M. le Bourgmestre, to have pity on the two poor children yonder give us the means of proceeding on our journey, and " " I tell you I have done all that 1 can do, perhaps more than I ought to have done. Once again, let me see your papers ! " " Let me first explain to you " " I will listen to no explanations. Your papers, I say ! Do you mean to make me send you to prison as a rogue and vagabond ? " " Me I Send me to prison ? " " Of course I shall, if you refuse to give me your papers. Unless you immediately produce them, I shall treat you as though you had - 1JP"* sSlt THE BURGOMASTER. P. 87. n: Chapman an. I Hall. Janu.irx I, THE INVESTIGATION. 87 none to produce ; and, in that case, I have no alternative but to arrest you as a suspicious character, and place you under confinement, until the proper authorities have decided what shall be done with you. Now, then, if you please, these papers; and let us be quick, for I want to get home again." The position of Dagobert was the more insupportably trying from the false hope which had, until the last few minutes, induced him to believe justice would ceitainly be done him. This last blow was the climax of all the misery the veteran had endured through this eventful night a trial as severe as dangerous to a man of Dagobert's firm, honest, but unbending nature, who, long inured to the proud satisfac- tion of being honoured and esteemed as a soldier who had victoriously shed his blood for his country, and regarded by his superiors with confidence and esteem, had rather indulged in a contemptuous des- potism towards all mere " bourgeois," like the magistrate who now held his fate in his hands. At the oft-repeated words, " Your papers," the old soldier's colour fled his cheeks and lips ; the blood seemed to retreat from his heart at the thoughts of being ignominiously dragged to prison at so critical a moment, but still striving to conquer th*c agony of his feelings, and veil his fears beneath an appearance of confidence, which might, after all, win the magistrate to befriend him, he said, " I will tell you, in two words, M. le Bourgmestre, how I am situated at present the thing is simple enough, and might happen to any one. 1 do not look like a rogue or vagabond, do I ? And yet, you can imagine that a man like me, travelling with two young girls " " What the devil do you make all this parleying about? Produce your papers and have done 1" At this juncture, two unexpected allies arrived to assist the old soldier the orphans, whose uneasiness momentarily increased as they heard Dagobert's voice still earnestly engaged in conversation ; they therefore arose and dressed themselves, so that, at the instant that the magistrate was loudly exclaiming, " What is all this talk about ? Deliver up your papers instantly" Rose and Blanche came out on the staircase, holding each other by the hand. At the sight of these young and lovely beings, rendered still more interesting by their humble dress of entire mourning, the burgomaster rose from his seat, struck with sudden surprise and admiration. By a simultaneous movement, each sister clung to the side of their old friend, and taking each of them one of his large hands in theirs, looked up in the face of the magistrate with a timid yet ingenuous glance. A more exquisitely touching group can scarcely be imagined than Mas thus presented the rough, toilworn soldier, standing between. the young and delicate children, clinging to him in trustful love, while he seemed as though presenting their youth and innocence to the eyes of his judge, in M-arranty of his own integrity and honour in being thus accompanied. Unstudied as had been the scene, it had its full effect upon the magistrate, and again filled his heart with commiseration for their orphan state. The veteran quickly remarked the change in the austere countenance of the burgomaster, and, advancing towards him, holding the sisters by the hand, he said, " Behold these poor helpless orphan girls, M. le Bourgmestre ! What better passport could you desire ?" 88 THE WANDERING JEW. Aud overcome by a crowd of painful and long-repressed feelings, the eyes of Dagobert filled with large drops which threatened to over- flow. Although naturally abrupt, and rendered still more churlish by being disturbed out of his sleep, the burgomaster was, in reality, neither den* cent in good sense nor feeling, and he felt how impossible it was to suspect or mistrust a man thus accompanied." " Poor dear children !" said he, examining them with increased at trillion ; " orphans at so early an age ! And they come from some distance you say ?" " From the most distant part of Siberia, M. le Bourgmestre, where their mother was exiled before they were born. We have already been five months on our journey, coming short distances at a time ; that is no small hardship for young creatures like them. It is for them alone I seek your favour and kind assistance for these poor things, who seem doomed to misfortune. For just now, when I went to look for my papers, in the bag I always carried them in, I could neither ^find the pocket-book in which I had placed them, my purse, nor my cross ; for, excuse me, M. le Bourgmestre, I do not say it to boast of myself, but I have been decorated by the emperor's own hand with the cross of honour, and a man whom his hand thus dis- tinguished cannot be a bad man, though he may unfortunately have lost his papers and his money : so now you see exactly how we are circumstanced, and why I was so earnest about being indemnified for the loss of my horse." " And where, and in what, manner, did you lose these things ?" " I know not, M. le Bourgmestre. I am quite sure that the evening before last I took a small sum of money out of my purse, and that I then saw the pocket-book quite safe. The money, trifling as it was, supplied all our wants through yesterday, so that I had no occasion to undo the bag again." " And yesterday, and up to the present minute, where has your bag been kept ?" " Through the day, while travelling, with ourselves ; at night, in the room where these children slept. But this night " Dagobert was interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. It was the prophet. Concealed in the dark shadow of the staircase, he had overheard this conversation, and hastened, by his presence, to prevent the full accom- plishment of his schemes, almost realized, from being destroyed by the weakness and vacillation of the burgomaster. CHAPTER XIV. THE RESULT. MOROK, who carried, his left arm in a sling, ascended the stair- case slowly, and saluted the burgomaster respectfully. At the sight of the sinister aspect of the brute-conqueror, Rose and Blanche shuddered, and drew closer to the soldier, whose cheek THE RESULT. 89 burned again as he felt his gall rise against Morok, the cause of his distressing embarrassment. He was not aware, besides, that Goliath had, at the instigation of the prophet, stolen his pocket-book and papers. " What seek you, Morok ?" inquired the burgomaster, with an air half-kind, half-angry; " I told the innkeeper I wished to be alone." " I came to render you a service, M. le Bourgmestre." " A service ?" " A great service ; but for which I should not have disturbed you. But a scruple has arisen in my mind." " A scruple ?" " Yes, sir ; I have reproached myself for not having told you all I knew of this man ; but I was deterred by a false feeling of pity." " Well, what then have you to disclose ?" Morok approached the judge, and spoke to him for some time in an undertone. The burgomaster appeared at first greatly astonished, and then very attentive and anxious. From time to time an expression of sur- prise escaped him then of doubt, looking, as he did so, at Dagobert and the two young girls. By these looks, which grew darker and more uneasy, it was easy to perceive that the whispering of the prophet affected and destroyed the interest which the magistrate had at first expressed for the orphans and the soldier, converting the feeling of kindness into mistrust and hostility. Dagobert saw this sudden change, and his fears, allayed for the moment, revived in double force. Hose and Blanche looked at the soldier in amazement and anxiety, unable to comprehend what was passing. " The devil !" said the burgomaster, rising hastily. " I could never have believed it ! What could I have been thinking of? But you see, Morok, when a man is aroused in the middle of the night he has not all his wits about him so readily ; but I fully appreciate the great ser- vice you have rendered me, and am very much -obliged to you." " Mind, I do not say it is all certain, but " " Never mind, it's a thousand to one that you are perfectly cor- rect" " It is only my suspicion, founded, it ia true, on certain circum- stances ; but still, only a suspicion " " May lead us to the direct truth. And here was I, going like a bird into the snare I Again, I say, where was my sense when " " It is difficult to find excuse for certain appearances " " To whom do you allude, my dear Morok ? To whom ?" During this mysterious conversation Dagobert was on thorns ; ho frit all the presentiment of a storm that was bursting upon him, and only considered how he should repress his rage. Morok went closer to the judge, and pointing to the orphan girls again, began to speak in a low voice. " Ah 1" cried the burgomaster, with indignation, " now you are going too far." " I affirm nothing," said Morok, hastily ; " it is a simple pre- sumption based on" 90 THE WANDERING JEW. And again he whispered in the judge's ear. " After all, why not?" said the judge, raising his hands to heaven. " Such people arc capable of any thing. He said, too, he had come from the further end of Siberia with them ; that proves that his whole tale is but a pack of lies. But nobody makes a fool of me twice," exclaimed the burgomaster, in a wrathful tone ; for, like all persons of a weak and fickle mind, he had no mercy toward* those whom he thought capable of practising any deceit on him. " Do not, however, decide too hastily," said Morok, in a voice of hypocritical pity and compunction ; " do not allow my words to have more weight than is really due to them. My position with this man (pointing to Dagobert) is unfortunately so false, that it might be imagined that I was acting from resentment of the ill he has caused me ; and perhaps, unknown to myself, I may be so influenced, whilst I am supposing that I am solely impelled by a love of justice, a horror of falsehood, and profound reverence for our holy religion. He who lives longest will see most may the Lord pardon me if I err ! let justice be done I If they are innocent, they will be free in a month or two." " That is why I shall not hesitate ; it is but a simple measure of prudence, and they will not die by that. Besides, the more I reflect, the more probable it seems to me. Yes, this man is a spy or French agitator, particularly when we place beside these suspicions the display of the students of Frankfort.'' " And supposing it to be so, there is nothing which would excite and inflame the heads of those young fools like " and Morok gave a quick and meaning glance at the two sisters ; then, after a moment's significant silence, he added, with a sigh, " The Evil One avails himself of all means." " Certainly it is a detestable idea, but therefore the more skilfully designed." " Then, sir, look attentively at this man. Did you ever see a more dangerous countenance? Look I" and as he whispered, Morok pointed at Dagobert. In spite of the control he exercised over himself, the constraint he had displayed since his arrival in this cursed auberge, and particularly since the commencement of Morok's conversation with the burgo- master, yet he could no longer restrain himself. He saw too clearly that his efforts to conciliate the judge were utterly destroyed by the fatal influence and interference of the brute-tamer; and, losing all patience, he went up to him, and folding his arms across his chest, said to him, in a constrained tone, " Are you talking of me to the burgomaster ?" " Yes," answered Morok in a firm voice. " Then why not speak out?" The convulsive twitches of the thick moustaches of Dagobert, who having uttered these words looked steadfastly into Morok's very eyes, betokened the violent contest which was working within him. Seeing that his adversary kept up a provoking silence, he said to him, in a louder voice, " I ask you why you speak in whisper* to the burgomaster, if I was the subject of your conversation ?" THE RBSULT. 91 " Because there are things so shameful that one would blush to pronounce them aloud," replied Morok, insultingly. Dagobert had till then kept his arms folded, but he suddenly ex- tended them with his fists clenched. This rapid movement was so expressive, that the two sisters came to him uttering a cry of alarm. " Mister Burgomaster," said the soldier, from between his clenched teeth, " bid this man depart, or I will not answer for myself 1" " What!" said the burgomaster, angrily, "do you give your orders to me? do you dare " " I tell you to desire this man to depart," said Dagobert, whose anger was now unrestrained ; " or something will happen to him ! " " Dagobert, mon Dieu i calm yourself!" exclaimed the children, taking hold of his hands. " It is just like a miserable vagabond, as you are, to give your orders here ! " replied the burgomaster in a rage. " What, you thought it would be enough for me, to say that you had lost your papers ! You are playing a fine game, dragging these young girls about with you, who, in spite of their innocent looks, may be -" " What ! " exclaimed Dagobert, interrupting the burgomaster, with a gesture and look so threatening that thejustice was afraid to go on. The soldier took the children by their arms, and, before they could utter a word, put them into their chamber, of which he quietly closed the door and put the key in his pocket. He then turned hastily round upon the burgomaster, who, alarmed at the threatening attitude and aspect of the veteran, recoiled several paces, and put his had on the balustrade of the staircase. " Hear me, you ! " said the soldier, laying hold of the judge's arm. " Just now this fellow (he pointed to Morok) insulted me; I bore it, be- cause myself only was concerned. Again I have listened patiently to your stupid remarks, because you seemed for a moment to interest yourself in these unfortunate children ; but since you have neither heart, pity, nor justice, I tell you to your beard, burgomaster though you are, I will come across you as I have already done to this hound (pointing again to the prophet), if you dare to breathe one syllable against these two poor girls which you would not say of your own daughter. Do you understand me, burgomaster ? " " What you dare I " stammered the indignant burgomaster, " that if I speak of these two wanderers " " Your hat off when you speak of the daughters of the Marshal Duke de Ligny,"* cried the soldier, snatching off the burgomaster's bonnet and throwing it at his feet. At this Morok bounded with joy. In fact, Dagobert, exasperated as he was, renounced all hope, and, unfortunately, allowed his indignation full vent. When the burgomaster saw his bonnet at his feet, he looked at the tamer of brutes with an air of stupefaction, as if he could not com- prehend the enormity of the offence. Dagobert, regretting his offence, and knowing that there was no hope of reconciliation left, took a hasty glance around him, and, re- treating a few paces, gained the first steps of the staircase. * In a former chapter, by an error of the French copyist, General Simon has been called Duke de Montmirail, instead of Duke de Ligny. 92 THE WANDERING JEW. The burgomaster stood beside a bench in a corner of the landing- place ; Morok, with his arm in a sling, in order to give a more serious aspect to his wound, was near the magistrate, who, deceived by Dago- bert's movement, cried, j " Ah ! you think to escape, after having dared to lay hands on me; do you, you miserable old fellow, you ? " " Mister Burgomaster, forgive me. I could not control a feeling too quick for me ; I am sorry for my offence," said Dagobert, in a tone of repentance, and bowing very humbly. " I have no pity for you, fellow I You want to come over me again with your gammon ; but I see through your tricks. You are not what you seem to be, and there may be some state secret at the bottom of all this," added the magistrate, with a very diplomatic air : " every means is resorted to by persons anxious to set all Europe by the ears." " I am but a poor devil, M. le Bourgmestre. You who have so good a heart should have pity." " What, when you have snatched of my bonnet ? " " But you," added the soldier, turning to Morok, " you are the cause of all this : pity me, and do not shew malice. You, who are a holy man, say at least a word in my favour to the burgomaster." " I have said to him what I ought to say to him," replied the pro- phet, ironically. " Ah, now, you vagabond ! you are very sorry. You thought to humbug me with your tales of woe," added the burgomaster, advanc- ing towards Dagobert ; " but, Heaven be praised, I am no longer your dupe. You will see that at Leipsic there are good dungeons for French emissaries and wandering misses ; for your girls are no better than yourself. Go ! " added he, swelling with impatience, " go down before me ; as to you, Morok " The burgomaster could not conclude. For some minutes Dagobert had only tried to gain time ; he saw, from the corner of his eye, a half-open door looking on the staircase, and opposite the room occupied by the orphans. He found the mo- ment favourable, and darting with the quickness of lightning on the burgomaster, and seizing him by the throat, threw him so powerfully against the half-open door, that the bewildered magistrate could not utter a word or cry, but rolled prostrate to the further end of this chamber, which was in utter darkness. Then turning on Morok, who, with his arm in a sling, seeing the staircase free, had hastened towards it, the soldier seized him by his long hair, and, dragging him towards him, grasped him in his iron arms, put his hand over his mouth to prevent his cries, and, in spite of his determined resistance, pushed and dragged him into the cham- ber, at the bottom of which the burgomaster lay bruised and giddy. Having double-locked the door, and put the key in his pocket, Dagobert darted down the staircase, which led to the court-yard. The inn-gate was closed, and it was impossible to get out that way. The rain fell in torrents ; and he saw, through the window-panes of a lower room, lighted by a fire, the landlord and his people awaiting the decision of the burgomaster. To bolt the door of this back stair, and cut off all communication TUB RESULT. 93 with the court-yard, was with the soldier but the work of a second, and he then went quickly up the stairs to rejoin the orphans. Morok, recovering himself, called loudly for help ; but, even if his cries could have been heard at the distance, the wind and rain would have stifled them. Dagobert had perhaps an hour before him ; for by that time sus- picion would arise as to the long time elapsed, and suspicion once excited, they would break open the two doors, and release the burgo- master and the prophet. " My children," said Dagobert, entering abruptly in the room of the two little maidens, who had been aghast at the noise they had heard for the last few minutes ; " now is the moment to prove whether or not a soldier's blood is in your veins." " Mon Dieu ! Dagobert! what has happened?" exclaimed Blanche. " What would you desire us to do ? " asked Rose. Without replying, the soldier ran to the bed, took off the sheets, tied them together, made a large knot at each end, which he placed at the upper part of the shutter, first opened and then closed. Fastened inside by the knot, which could not slip through the space between the shutter and the jamb of the window, the sheet was securely fast- ened, whilst the other end dropping outside reached the ground ; the t other half of the window being opened, left a sufficient space for the escape of the fugitives. The veteran then took his bag, the children's portmanteau, the rein-deer skin pelisse, and threw them all out of the window, and then made a sign to Kill-joy to jump out and take care of the tilings. The dog obeyed in an instant. Rose and Blanche were amazed, and looked at Dagobert without saying a syllable. " Now, my darlings," he said, " the doors of the inn are closed. Courage !" and pointing to the window, "we must get out by this way, or we shall be arrested and cast into prison you on one side and I on the other, and our journey is ended." " Arre&ted ! cast into prison I " exclaimed Rose. " Separated from you ? " cried Blanche. " Yes, my dears ! They have killed Jovial : we must escape on foot, and try to reach Leipsic. When you are tired, I will carry you in turns ; and, if we beg every inch of our way, we will reach our journey's end ; but a quarter of an hour's delay, and all is lost ! So now, dears, trust in me. Let us see that the daughters of General Simon are no cowards, and we have still hope to lead us on." The sisters took each other's hand by mutual sympathy, as if to unite against the common danger ; their lovely faces, pale with emotion, yet expressed a simple firmness, which arose from their unbounded confidence in the old soldier. " Be assured, Dagobert do not fear for us," said Rose, in a resolute tone. " We will do what we ought to do," added Blanche, in a voice no less firm. " I was sure of it," said Dagobert; " good blood will always shew itself. Forward ! You are not heavier than feathers, the sheets are 04 THE WANDERING JEW. strong, and it is hardly eight feet from the window to the ground. Kill-joy is waiting for you." " I will go first I am eldest to-day," said Rose, kissing Blanche affectionately ; and she hastened to the window, determined, if there were any peril, to essay it before her sister. Dagobert easily guessed the motive of her conduct, and said, " My children, I understand you ; but do not fear, there is no danger ; I tied the sheets securely. Now, there, my little Rose-bud." Light as a bird, the young maiden jumped on the window-sill ; then, aided by Dagobert, she seized the sheet and slid gently down under the soldier's advice, who, leaning out of window, encouraged her with his voice. " Sister, dear, do not have any fear," said the young girl, in a low voice, when she touched the ground ; " it is very easy to come down so, and Kill-joy is liking my hand." Blanche did not delay in descending as speedily and with courage equal to her sister. " Dear little things 1 what have they done to have such misfor- tunes? Mille tonnerres ! Is there, then, an evil spell over the family ?" exclaimed Dagobert, in his grief, when he saw the pale and resigned countenance of the young child disappear in the darkness of the night, rendered still more painful by the gusts of wind and torrents of rain. " Dagobert, we are waiting for you : come quickly," said the two girls under the window. Thanks to his height, the soldier leaped rather than slid from the window to the ground. Dagobert and the two girls had hardly left the White Falcon inn a quarter of an hour, when a violent burst resounded through the house. The door had yielded to the efforts of the burgomaster and Morok, who had used a heavy table for a battering-ram. Guided by the light they ran into the room of the orphans. It was deserted. Morok saw the sheets hanging outside, and cried out, " M. le Bourgmestre, by this window they have escaped they are on foot the night is dark and storm v, and they cannot have fled far." " Certainly not. We shall overtake them. Miserable vagabonds ! Oh, I'll be revenged ! Quick, Morok ! Your honour is as much con- cerned as mine." " My honour ? More than that is concerned, M. le Bourgmestre," replied the prophet, in a tone of bitterness. He then descended the staircase rapidly, and, opening the door of the court-yard, cried with a resounding voice, " Goliath, unchain the dogs ! And you, landlord, bring lanterns and torches! Arm your people, open your doors! Run after the fugitives, they must not escape. We must take them, dead or alive !" END OV THE FIRST PART. 1HK ESCAPE .". M iimilon: ni.tiinii ami Hall. .ful> PART II. THE STREET OF THE MILIEU-DES-URSINS. CHAPTER XV. THE INFORMATIONS. IN reading the rules of the order of Jesuits, under the title of De Formuld Scribendi (Instit. 2, 11, pp. 125-129), the developement of the eighth part of the Constitution, we are amazed at the number of letters, informations, revelations, registers, and writings of every kind, preserved in the archives of the society. This body is a police, more exact and better informed than was ever found in any state. The government of Venice itself found that it was surpassed by the Jesuits, when, in 1606, it laid hands on their papers and drove them out of the city, reproaching them for their IN- TENSE AND PAINFUL CURIOSITY. This police, this secret inquisition, carried to such a pitch of perfection, evince all the power of a govern- ment ao fully informed, so persevering in its plans, so powerful in its unity, and, as their Constitutions express it, the union of its members. It may be easily understood what immense power the government of a society thus constructed must acquire, and how the general of the Jesuits was justified in saying to the Duke de Brissac, " FBOM THIS BOOM, SIB, I GOVERN NOT ONLY PARIS BUT CHINA; NOT ONLY CHINA, BUT THE WHOLE WORLD, WITHOUT ANY ONE UNDEBSTAND- 1NG THE MANNER IN WHICH I DO IT." TJl Constitutions of the Jesuits, with the Declarations : Latin text, from the Prague edition, pp. 470-478. Paulin, Paris, 1843. Morok, the beast-tamer, seeing Dagobert deprived of his horse, robbed of his papers and his money, and believing him also deprived of any and every means of continuing his journey, had, before the arrival of the burgomaster, despatched Karl to Leipsic with a letter, which he was instantly to put in the post, The address of the letter was as follows :- " To Monsieur Rodin, Rue du Milieu-des-Ursins, A Paris." About the middle of this solitary and little-known street, which is just above the Quai Napoleon, to which it leads, and not far from the 96 THE WANDERING JEW. Rue Saint Landry, there was a house of quiet appearance, built at the extremity of a dull and narrow court-yard, isolated from the street by a small facade, in which was an arched door, and two windows, pro- tected by strong bars of iron. Nothing could be more unpretending than the interior of this silent abode, judging from the furniture of a large room on the ground floor of the principal part of the building. Old gray panels covered the walls, the floor was of square blocks, painted red and carefully polished, and white calico curtains hung in front of the window-panes. A globe, four feet in diameter, placed on a pedestal of solid oak, was at the further end of the apartment, facing the fire-place. On this sphere, which was on a large scale, there were a vast quantity of small red crosses, scattered over all parts of the world, from north to south, from east to west ; from the most barbarous countries, the most remote islands, to the most civilised countries even to France : there was no nation which did not bear, in many places, more or less of these small red crosses, which evidently served as signs of indication or as points of reference. Before a table of ebony covered with papers, and close against the wall, by the chimney side, was an empty chair ; at a distance, between two windows, was a large walnut-tree bureau, with shelves filled with large memorandum -cases. At the end of the month of October, 1831, about eight o'clock in the morning, there was a man seated at this bureau, who was busily writing. It was M. Rodin, the correspondent of Morok the beast-tamer. Fifty years of age, he wore an old, threadbare, olive-coloured, long-tailed coat, with a greasy collar ; a pocket-handkerchief was his cravat, with waistcoat and trowsers of black cloth, worn white at the seams and knees ; whilst his feet plunged in shoes of oiled leather, rested on a small green-baize stool, which was on the red and shining floor. His gray hairs fell limp and flat on his temples, and crowned his bald forehead; his eyebrows were scarcely marked; his upper eyelid shrivelled, but falling low, like the membrane of a reptile's eye, half-concealed his small and sharp black eye ; his lips, thin and abso- lutely colourless, were lost in the wan hue of his lank visage, his peaked nose, and peaked chin. This livid and (it might almost be said) lipless mask seemed the more strange from its death-like in- animation, and but for the rapid motion of M. Rodin's fingers as he stooped over his bureau, and his pen scratched along, he might have been taken for a corpse. By the aid of a cipher (a secret alphabet) placed before him, he was transcribing, in a manner unintelligible to all but the initiated, certain passages from a long scroll of writing. In the midst of this perfect silence, in a dull, dark day, which made even more gloomy this large and naked room, there was something re- pulsive in the sight of this frozen figure writing mysterious characters. The clock struck eight. The knocker of the outer gate sounded heavily, then a bell tinkled twice. Several doors opened and shut, and another individual entered the room. When he saw him, M. Rodin rose, put his pen between his teeth, THE INFORMATIONS. 07 and, having saluted him with an air of the deepest humility, resumed his labour without a word. These two personages presented a striking contrast. The new-comer, older than he seemed, appeared thirty-six or thirty-eight years of age, of tall and elegant proportions; it was difficult to sustain the brilliant glance of his large and sparkling gray eyes ; his nose, large.at the base, terminated with an expansive curve; his chin was well defined, and, being closely shaven, the blue tints of his beard contrasted broadly with the vivid scarlet of his lips, and the whiteness of his teeth, which were exquisite in form and colour. When he took off his hat and put on a black velvet cap, which was lying on the table, he exposed his bright and full chestnut locks, which time had hitherto left without one gray hair. He was attired in a long military frock- coat, buttoned closely up to his chin. The penetrating look of this man, his largely developed forehead, revealed a powerful mind, whilst the expansion of his chest and shoulders betokened a vigorous physical construction. His distinguished appear- ance, the care evidently bestowed upon his gloves and boots, the light perfume which came from his hair and linen, and the easy grace of his slightest gesture, betrayed what is called " a man of the world," and implied that he had had, and might still have, if he pleased, success in all he aimed at, from the most frivolous toying to the most serious pursuit. From this strength of understanding, power of limb, and elegance of manners an union so rare to meet withal there resulted a com- bination the more remarkable, inasmuch as the appearance of arbitrary sway which exhibited itself in the upper part of his energetic features was, in a manner, tempered by the affability of his smile, habitual but not uniform ; for, as occasion claimed it, this smile, by turns affec- tionate or shrewd, cordial or gay, discreet or open, increased the insinuating charm of a man who, once seen, could never be forgotten. However, in spite of the conjunction of so many advantages, and although you were almost always left under the influence of his irre- sistible demeanour, your feelings would be mingled with a vague dis- quiet, as if the grace and exquisite urbanity of this individual's man- ners, the enchantment of his discourse, his delicate flattery, and the soothing softness of his smile, concealed an under-current of insidious treachery. You would ask yourself, even whilst subdued by an involuntary sympathy, if he were leading you to good or evil ! **** M. Rodin, the stranger's secretary, continued to write. " Are there any letters from Dunkirk, Rodin ? " asked his master. " The postman has not yet been." "Without being positively distressed about the state of my mother's health, for I was informed of her entire convalescence," replied the other, " I shall not feel perfectly easy until I have a letter from my excellent friend the Princess de Saint-Dizicr. I hope this morning will bring me good news." " I hope so," said the secretary, in a tone as humble and dependent as it was laconic and unmoved. " Yes, I am very desirous," resumed his employer ; " for one of the 7 H 98 THE WANDERING JEW. happiest moments of my lite was that in which the Princess de Saint- Dizier informed me that her malady, which was as sudden as it was dangerous, had most propitiously yielded to the careful attentions with which my mother was nursed by her ; but for this, I should instantly have set out for the princess's estate, notwithstanding my presence here is so very requisite." Then approaching the bureau of his secretary, he added, " Have you made the extracts from the foreign correspondence ?" " Here is the analysis." " All letters come addressed to the particular places designated, and brought according to my orders ?" " Always." " Read me the analysis of this correspondence ; and if there be any letters to which I ought to reply in my own hand, I will let you know." Rodin's master then began to walk up and down the room, with his hands folded behind his back, dictating, from time to time, remarks which Rodin carefully noted down. The secretary took a thick volume, and began thus : " Don Ramon Olivares, accused at Cadiz of the receipt of the letter, No. 19, will conform to its instructions in every particular, and will deny all participation in the affair." " Good : enter it in the right list." " Count Romanof, of Riga, is in a most embarrassing dilemma." " Tell Duplessis to gend him fifty louis d'or. I was once captain in the count's regiment, and he has since supplied us with most useful information." " They have received at Philadelphia the last cargoes of the ' History of France expurgated for the use of the Faithful.' They require another supply, as that is exhausted." " Make a note to write to Duplessis. Go on." " M. Spindler sends from Namur the secret report requested, con- cerning M. Ardouin." " That must be analysed." " M. Ardouin sends, from the same city, the secret report re- quested, concerning M. Spindler." " That, too, must be analysed." " Doctor Van-Ostadt, of the same city, sends a confidential note concerning both M. Spindler and M. Ardouin." " They must be duly compared. Continue." " The Count Malipierri, of Turin, announces that the donation of the 300,000 francs is signed." " Inform Duplessis. Well " " Don Stanislas has quitted the Baden waters with the Queen Marie-Ernestine. He states that the queen will gratefully receive any information sent to her, and reply to it in person." " Make a note of this. I will write myself to the queen." Whilst Rodin was making several notes in the margin of the book he held in his hand, his master, who continued to walk up and down the room, paused before the large sphere marked with the small red crosses, and gazed at it for a moment, thoughtfully. Rodin continued : THE INFORMATIONS. 99 " From the state of mind in certain parts of Italy, where certain agitators have turned their eyes towards France, Father Orsini writes from Milan that it would be very important to diffuse, in large numbers, a small book in which our countrymen, the French, should be described as impious and debauched, robbers and cut-throats." " It is an excellent idea, and we could thus easily account for the excesses committed by our troops in Italy during the wars of the Republic. Jacques Dumoulin must be employed to write this book that man overflows with bile, gall, and venom ! His pamphlet will be tremendous ; and I can furnish him with some notes. But mind, Jacques Dumoulin must not be paid until the manuscript is complete and delivered into our own hands." " Of course. If he had any money down, he would be blind drunk for eight days together in some disreputable house or other. We were obliged to pay him twice for his virulent letter against the pantheistical tendencies of the philosophical doctrines of Professor Martin." " Make your memorandum, and go on." " The merchant announces that the clerk is on the point of sending the banker to his accounts before the time, when Having accented the words we print in italics in a peculiar way, Rodin added, " You understand ?" " Perfectly," said the other, with a start ; " these were the ex- pressions agreed upon. Well, what then ?" " But the clerk" added the secretary, " is restrained by a last scruple." After a moment's silence, during which his features were painfully contracted, Rodin's master replied, " Give instructions to work on the clerks imagination by silence and solitude, and then place in his hands the list of instances in which regicide is authorised and absolved. Continue." " The woman Sydney writes from Dresden that she awaits in- structions. Violent scenes of jealousy have occurred between the father and son about her ; but in their mutual reproaches and hatred, in the confidences which each has made to her of his rival, the woman Sydney has not gleaned any thing on the subject we desire to fathom ; she has not as yet shewn preference for either, but if she delays, she fears they may suspect: which is she to prefer the father or the son ?" " The son! the workings of jealousy would be more violent and deadly in the old man than in the young ; and, to revenge himself for the preference bestowed on his son, he might very probably reveal what both have so great an interest in concealing. What next ? " " In the last three years, two female servants belonging to Am- brosius, who was placed as pastor in that small parish among the mountains of the Valois, have disappeared, without the least trace having been obtained of their fate ; a third has recently been missing. The Protestant inhabitants of the country are excited ; they speak openly of murder having been committed, and call it a horrible affair requiring immediate investigation." " Until the most positive evidence of bis guilt i* obtained, the 100 THE WANDERING JEW. most unquestionable proof of a murder having been committed, let Ambrosius be strongly supported and defended against the infamous falsehoods of a party that would go any lengths to support their malignant scandals. Continue." " Thompson, of Liverpool, has at length succeeded in securing a confidential employment for Justin, in the family of Lord Stewart, a rich Irish Catholic, whose mental weakness daily increases. Justin is engaged as private secretary." " Fifty louis for Thompson upon the above information being duly and satisfactorily verified. Make a note for Duplessis. Go on." " Frank Dichestein, of Vienna," resumed Rodin, " informs us that his father has just died of cholera, in a little village a few leagues from hence, for the epidemic is advancing with slow but sure strides, pro- ceeding froMi the north of Russia through Poland." " True," answered Rodin's superior, interrupting him ; " may this frightful scourge be arrested ere it reach France ! " " Frank Dichestein proceeds to say, that his two brothers have resolved to contest the legacy left by his father, but that he is well disposed to allow it." " Consult those charged with the bequest. What have you next?" " The Cardinal Prince d'Amalfi will conform to the three first points of the memorial ; but he will only accede to the fourth upon certain reservations." " None will be permitted ; a full and unqualified acceptation, or war. War! mark me well, and take a note of what I say bloody and unsparing, either of himself or his creatures ! The next." " Father Paoli announces that the patriot Boccari, head of a secret and formidable society, driven to despair of being (in consequence of the adroit insinuations infused by Paoli in the minds of his associates) accused by his friends and companions of treacherous designs against their common interests, has perished by his own hand." " Can it be possible ? " exclaimed Rodin's employer. " Boccari ! ^ the patriot Boccari! that redoubtable and dangerous enemy !" " Himself," repeated the still immovable secretary. " Bid Duplessis send an order for twenty -five louis to Father Paoli. Make a note. Now proceed." " Hausman acquaints us that the French dancer, Albertine Du- cornet, is established as the acknowledged mistress of the reigning prince, over whom she exercises the most perfect influence ; through her intervention the desired aim might be obtained : but this individual is in her turn entirely guided by her lover, an individual now under sentence for forgery, but without whose knowledge and concurrence she does nothing." " Then desire Hausman to confer with this man, and if he find him reasonable in his demands, to accede to them ; and also to make inquiries as to whether this woman, Albertine, has not relations in Paris." " The Duke d'Orbano acquaints us that the king his master will authorise the new establishment proposed, but upon the conditions previously stated." " No conditions will be listened to ; either an unqualified com- pliance or a positive refusal. By such decided means alone we shall THE INFORMATIONS. 101 be able to know our friends from our foes; the more unfavourable the circumstances by which we are surrounded, the greater need of shewing firmness and self-reliance." " By the same despatch we learn that the entire diplomatic body persist in remonstrating in favour of the parent of the young Pro- testant girl, who refuses to quit the convent in which she has found safety and protection unless to marry a person her father is wholly opposed to." " Ah I the diplomatic body continue to support the father's demand for the restoration of his disobedient daughter, do they ?" " They do." " Then continue to reply to all their petitions and memorials by saying that the ecclesiastical power cannot suffer itself to be drawn into disputes with temporal authority." At this instant the bell at the entrance-door rang twice. " Go see who that is," said Rodin's master. The former rose and quitted the room while his employer con- tinued pensively to pace the room, until his attention being attracted by the enormous globe he suddenly stopped, and for several minutes continued to gaze in silence on the innumerable little red crosses, which, like the meshes of an immense net, appeared to cover the whole surface of the earth. Doubtless impressed with the consciousness of his wide-extended power, from the influence of which no quarter of the universe seemed free, the features of the man we are describing were suddenly lighted up with an expression of haughty complacency and self-gratu- lation ; his large gray eye glittered, his nostril expanded, and his strongly marked features assumed an indescribable look of energy* determination, and pride. With lofty mien and half-disdainful smile he bent over the sphere and grasped the pole in his strong hand, looking on it with the proud air of a conqueror who felt assured of obtaining the universal dominion he coveted ; and well did that eager, absolute, and audacious grasp accord with the fierce, imperious look of the eye, fixed on it with so intense agaze, as though already wielding the universal sceptre his desires aimed at obtaining. Yet no smile illumined his counte- nance ; deep frowns contracted his large forehead and imparted a menacing air to his whole features. An artist would have chosen him, as he then stood, as a model of the demon of pride and auda- city, the evil genius of insatiable power. Nor could he have embodied his ideas under a more fearful personification. Ere Rodin returned to the room the features of his master had resumed their natural expression. " 'Twas the postman," said Rodin, exhibiting the letters he carried in his hand. " There is nothing, however, from Dunkirk." "Nothing I" exclaimed his master; and the pained look of his countenance contrasted deeply and singularly with the haughty and unbending expression it so lately wore. " No news of my mother !" resumed he ; " yet six-and-thirty hours more of uncertainty and suspense 1" " Yet had Madame la Princesse had bad news to communicate, she 102 THE WANDERING JEW. would surely have written. Let us hope, therefore, that things con- tinue to go on favourably." " Probably, Rodin, it may be as you say ; but, I know not why, I cannot tranquillise myself, and if to-morrow does not bring me the most satisfactory intelligence I shall certainly set off at once to the princess. Oh I why would my mother so positively choose to pass the autumn in that place I I fear much the situation of Dunkirk is decidedly unfavourable to her." After a brief silence, during which he still continued to pace the room, he added, " Let me see those letters." Rodin, having examined their various postmarks, replied, " Among the four I hold, are three relative to the great and im- portant affair of the medals." " Then Heaven be praised for so much that is good to hear I" ex- claimed Rodin's master. " Let us hope the accounts are favourable." And this was said in a tone and manner that clearly evinced the extreme uneasiness and anxiety entertained respecting the matter. " One is from Cliarlestown, and is, no doubt, from the missionary Gabriel," rejoined Rodin. "The other, from Batavia, comes pro- bably from the Indian Djalma. This is from Leipsic, and is, I expect, in confirmation of that of yesterday, in which Morok, the tamer of beasts, announced that, in pursuance of orders received, and without in any way involving himself, he had rendered it im- possible for the daughters of General Simon to continue their journey." At the name of General Simon a dark cloud passed over the features of Rodin's master. CHAPTER XVI. ORDERS. " THE provincial agencies correspond with that in Paris, and are also in direct communication with the General, who resides at Rome. The correspondence of the Jesuits, so active, various, and so wonder- fully organised, is arranged and devised to supply the chiefs with every information they may require. Every day the General receives a mass of reports which check each other. In the central depot at Rome there are immense registers, in which are kept the names of all the Jesuits, their allies, and all persons of consequence, friends or enemies, with whom they have connexion or business. In these re- gisters are detailed, without alteration, without hatred or passion, the facts relative to the life of each individual. It is the most gigantic biographical collection ever formed. The conduct of a woman of light character, and the concealed faults of a statesman, are recapitu- RODIN. P. IU3. London: Cha|>niiin and Mall. March I, I-4.V ORDERS. 103 lated in this book with calm impartiality. Abridged for an useful purpose, these biographies are necessarily precise. When it is requi- site to act upon or against a certain individual, the book is opened, and instantly his life, character, qualities, defects, projects, family, friends, and most secret connexions, are known. Imagine, now, what immense control, what a sphere of action, a book like this, which includes the entire world, must give to a society ! I do not speak lightly of these registers I have the fact from one who has seen the collection, and who knows the Jesuits thoroughly. This must afford matter for reflec- tion for families who admit with facility into their domestic circle members of a community by whom the study of biography is so skilfully carried out." LIBRI, member of the Institute: Letters on the Clergy. After having overcome the involuntary emotion which the name or the recollection of General Simon had caused him, Rodin's master said, " Do not open these letters from Leipsic, Charlestown, and Batavia ; the information they contain will doubtless classify itself forthwith. That will spare us a double employment of time." The secretary looked at his master with an inquiring air. The other continued, " Have you finished the note in reference to the medals ?" " Here it is ; I have just finished it from the ciphers." " Read it to me, and according to the order of dates, and adding the fresh informations which tjjese three letters ought to contain." " By which," said Rodin, " these informations will duly fall into their right places." " I wish to see," added the other, " if this note be clear and suffi- ciently full ; for you have not forgotten that the person to whom it is addressed does not know the full purpose of it?" " That I fully understand, and have drawn it up accordingly." Read." M. Rodin read what follows, very carefully and slowly : " A hundred and fifty years since, a French Protestant family voluntarily expatriated itself in anticipation of the coming revocation of the edict of JJantes, and with the intention of escaping the severe and just arrests already issued against the Reformers, those savage enemies of our holy religion. " Amongst the members of this family, some took refuge first in Holland, then in the Dutch colonies ; others in Poland, others in Germany, others in England, and some in America. " It is believed that at this time there are only seven surviving descendants of this family, which has experienced remarkable vicis- situdes of fortune, since its representatives are now placed on every step of the ladder of society, from the monarch to the mechanic. " These direct or indirect descendants are, " By the Mothers side : " The demoiselles Rose and Blanche Simon, minors. " (General Simon married, at Warsaw, a female descendant of the said family.) " The sieur Francois Hardy, a manufacturer at Plessis, near Paris. 104 THE WANDERING JEW. " The Prince Djalma, son of Kadja-Sing, king of Mondi. " (Kadja-Sing married, in 1802, a female descendant of the said family, then settled at Batavia, Isle of Java, a Dutch settlement.) " By tlie Father's side : " The sieur Jacques Rennepont, called Couche-tout-nud, a mechanic. " The demoiselle Adriennc de Cardoville, daughter of the Count de Rennepont, duke de Cardoville. " The sieur Gabriel flennepont, a missionary in foreign parts. " Each of the members of this family possesses, or ought to possess, a bronze medal, on which is engraved the following inscription : Victime de L.C.D.J. Priez pour moi. 13th February, 1682. A Paris, Rue St. Franfois, No. 3, In a century and a half you will be the 13th February, 1832. Paris, Pray for me " These words and this date indicate that there is some powerful reason why all of them should be in Paris on the 13th of February, 1832, and that not by proxies or by attorney, but IN PERSON, whether of age or under age, married or single. " But other persons have an immense interest in preventing any one of the descendants of this family from being in Paris on the 13th of February, except Gabriel Rennepont, the foreign missionary. " At all hazards, therefore, it is absolutely necessary that Gabriel alone be present at this interview, appointed for the representatives of this family a century and a half ago. " To prevent the six other persons from being in, or coming to, Paris on that particular day, or to prevent their attendance at the appoint- ment named, much has already been done; but a great deal more must be yet accomplished to ensure the entire success of this object, which is considered as the most important and vital affair of this time, because of its probable results." " That is very true," said Rodin's employer, interrupting him, and shaking his head gravely ; " add, moreover, that the consequences of success are incalculable, whilst the fatal results of failure cannot be anticipated. But, in a word, it involves the very fact of existence or virtual death for many years to come. Thus, to succeed, all means possible must be resorted to, and nothing allowed to impede the progress to perfect completion ; whilst, at the same time, appearances must be most carefully preserved." " I have written that," said Rodin, after he had added the words dictated to him. " Continue." Rodin continued thus : " To facilitate or ensure the success of the affair in question, it is necessary to supply some particular and secret details, as to those seven representatives of this family. These details can be verified, and if requisite, given in full minutiae ; for cross-informations having been received, we have the fullest particulars. We proceed in order of the persons, and only mention facts which have occurred up to this day." ORDERS. 105 (NOTE, No. 1.) " The girls Rose and Blanche Simon are twins ; age, about fifteen ; lovely faces, so like each other, that they are mistaken one for the other; disposition, gentle and timid, but susceptible of strong im- pulses ; brought up in Siberia by their mother, a woman of strong mind, and a Deist in principle, they are completely ignorant of every thing connected with our holy religion. " General Simon, separated from his wife before they were born, does not know to this hour that he has two daughters. " It was believed that they were prevented from reaching Paris on the 13th of February, by having sent the mother to a place of exile more remote than that to which she was first sentenced ; but the mother being dead, the governor-general of Siberia, who is entirely -devoted to us, believing (by a deplorable error) that the affair was only a personal one, affecting solely the wife of General Simon, un- fortunately allowed these young girls to return to France under the protection of an old soldier. " This man, quick-witted, faithful, and resolute, is noted as dan- gerous. "The demoiselles Simon are inoffensive. There is every good reason to believe that, at this time, they are detained in or near Leipsic." Rodin's master, interrupting him, said, " Now read the letter received by this post from. Leipsic, which should perfect the information." Rodin read, and exclaimed " Capital news ! the two young girls and their guide contrived to escape during the night from the inn of the White Falcon, but being pursued, they were overtaken a league from Mockern, sent on to Leipsic, and then locked up in gaol as vagabonds ; besides this, the soldier, who was their conductor, was accused and convicted of resist- ance, assault, and contempt of a magistrate." " Well, then, it is pretty sure, thanks to the tediousness of German law proceedings (and we will contrive to protract them), that the young girls will not be able to be here on the 13th of February," said the employer to Rodin. " Add this fact to the note by a postscript." The secretary obeyed, and added to the note the substance of Morok's letter, saying, " I have done that." " Then continue," said his master. Rodin complied thus : (NOTE, No. 2.) M. Francois Hardy, Manufacturer at Plcssis, near Paris. " Forty years old a strong-minded, rich, intelligent, active, hon- ourable, well-informed man ; greatly beloved by his work-people, owing to the numerous improvements he has established in their favour ; never fulfilling the duties of our holy religion ; marked as a very dangerous man; but the hatred and envy which he excites in other manufacturers, particularly to M. le Baron Tripeaud, his com- 106 THE WANDERING JEW. petitor, may be easily fomented, and used against him. If other springs of action against or upon him be required, the book will be referred to : it is very full with respect to him, as this individual has long been marked, and carefully watched. " He has been so carefully misled with regard to the medal that, up to this time, he is completely ijgnorant of its importance and the interests which it represents; moreover, he is constantly watched, looked after, and led, without the slightest suspicion on his part. One of his most intimate friends betrays him, and his most secret thoughts are known." (NOTE, No. 3.) The Prince Djalma. " Eighteen years of age of energetic and noble disposition, proud, independent, and wild ; a favourite of General Simon, who commands the troops of his father Kadja-Sing, in his struggle against the English in India. This account of Djalma is from memory only, as his mother died very young. From the survivor of her parents, who remained in Batavia, dying subsequently, their small property has not been claimed by Djalma, or the king his father, and it is clearly under- stood that they are both ignorant of the deep interests which apper- tain to the possession of the medal in question, which forms part of the inheritance of Djalma's mother." Rodin's master interrupted him and said, " Now read the letter from Batavia, that our information as to Djalma may be complete." Rodin did as he was desired, and said, "More good news! M.Joshua Van Dael,a merchant of Batavia (edu- cated in our house at Pondicherry), has learned from his correspondent at Calcutta that the old Indian king was killed iii his late battle with the English. His son Djalma, dispossessed of his throne, was sent temporarily to a fortress in India as prisoner of state." " We are at the end of October," observed the other, " and, ad- mitting that the Prince Djalma was set at liberty, and could now quit India, he could scarcely reach Paris by the month of February." " M. Joshua," replied Rodin, " regrets not being able to prove his zeal in this case : if, contrary to all probability, the Prince Djalma has been released, or contrives to escape, it is certain that he would come instantly to Batavia to reclaim his maternal inheritance, as he had nought in the world left beside. He might, in this case, rely on the devotion of M. Joshua Von Dae'l. He requests, in return, by the next courier, precise information as to the fortune of the Baron Tripeaud, manufacturer and banker, with whom he is connected in commercial affairs." " Reply in an eyasive manner, as M. Joshua has not yet testified anything but zeal. Complete the information of Djalma with these fresh particulars." Rodin wrote. At the end of a few seconds his employer said, with a singular expression, " M. Joshua does not mention General Simon, although he refers to the death of Djalma's father, and the prince's imprisonment." ORDEBS. 107 ' M. Joshua does not say one word," replied the secretary, as he continued his writing. Rodin's master kept silence, and walked up and down thoughtfully in the room. At the end of a few minutes, Rodin said, " I have written that." " Continue, then." (NOTE, No. 4.) The Sieur Jacques Rennepont, called Couche-lout-Nud. " A workman in the manufactory of the Baron Tripeaud, the com- petitor of M. Francois Hardy. This artisan is a drunkard, indolent, extravagant, riotous not deficient in understanding, but idleness and debauchery have utterly ruined him. One of our sub-agents, a very clever fellow, and much trusted, has got up an intrigue with a girl named Cephyse Soliveau, called the Queen-Bacchanal. She is the mistress of this artisan. Through her our agent has begun an inti- macy with him, and we may look on him, from this time, as almost withdrawn from any interest which might necessitate his presence at Paris on the 13th of February." (NOTE, No. 5.) Gabriel Rennepont, Foreign Missionary. " Distant relation of the preceding, but knows nothing of the relation or the relationship : a forsaken orphan, adopted by Franchise Baudoin, wife of a soldier surnamed Dagobert. " If, contrary to all expectation, this soldier should come to Paris, we should have a strong hold on him, through his wife, who is a worthy creature, ignorant, credulous, of exemplary piety, and over whom we have long had entire control and influence. It was by her intervention that Gabriel was induced to take orders, in spite of his own repugnance to a clerical life. " Gabriel is twenty -five years of age, and of a disposition as sweet as his countenance ; he has rare and solid virtues. Unfortunately he was brought up with his brother by adoption, Agricola, the son of Dagobert. This Agricola is a poet and a mechanic a capital \vork- ni;iii. and employed at M. Francois Hardy's ; imbued with detestable doctrines ; idolizes his mother ; honest, hard-working, but destitute of all religious feeling. Noted as very dangerous, which made his intimacy with Gabriel so much to be feared. " Gabriel, in spite of his perfect qualities, sometimes gives cause for alarm ; we must, therefore, not be completely without reserve with him a hasty step might render him a most dangerous man. He must, therefore, be carefully managed, at least until the 13th February, because on him, and on his presence in Paris at l/iis moment, rest not only immense hopes, but also the most important interests. " Carrying out this system of management with him, he has had leave to join a mission to America, for he unites to an extreme gen- tleness of disposition the most perfect intrepidity and a most adven- turous spirit, which could only be satisfied by allowing him to share in 108 THE WANDERING JEW. the perilous life of the missionaries. Fortunately, the most rigid in- structions have been given to the superiors at Charlestown that they will not expose a life so precious. They are to send him to Paris, at least a month or two before the 13th of February." Rodin's employer again interrupted him, saying, " Read the letter from Charlestown, and see what information it contains that will enable you to complete this information." Having read as he was desired, Rodin replied, " Gabriel is expected daily from the Rocky Mountains, where he insisted on going alone on a mission." '* What imprudence ! " " Oh ! doubtless he ran no risk, since he has himself announced his own return to Charlestown. On his arrival, which cannot be later than some time in this month, he will be immeditely sent forward to France." " Add that to the note about him," said Rodin's master. "I have done so," was the reply, after a few minutes. " Now, then, go on." Rodin complied. (NOTE, No. 6.) Mademoiselle Adrienne Rennepont de Cardoville. " Distant relation (and ignorant of the relationship) of Jacques Rennepont, called Couche-tout-nud, and of Gabriel Rennepont, the missionary priest. She is very nearly twenty-one years of age, with a countenance singularly prepossessing, and of remarkable beauty, though with hair of reddish tinge; an understanding remarkable for its originality ; an immense fortune ; possessed of strong sense and quick appreciation. There is much apprehension as to the future life of this young person, when her incredible boldness of disposition is considered. Fortunately, her acting guardian, the Baron Tripeaud (baron since 1829, and formerly man of business to the late Count de Rennepont, duke of Cardoyille), is entirely in the interest, and almost in the confidence, of the aunt of Mademoiselle de Cardoville. We calculate, and almost with certainty, on this worthy and respectable relative, and on M. Tripeaud, to combat and subdue the strange designs and unheard-of projects of this young lady, who is as deter- mined as she is independent, is always talking of openly, and which, unfortunately, cannot be usefully directed towards the importance of the affair in hand, for " Rodin could not proceed. He was interrupted by two blows care- fully struck on the door. The secretary arose and went to see who knocked, and, remaining outside for a moment, returned, bearing two letters in his hand, saying, " The princess has availed herself of the departure of the estafette to send " " Give me the princess's letter I " exclaimed the master of Rodin* not allowing him to conclude; "give me the princess's letter!" said Rodin's superior, without allowing him time to finish speaking. " At length, then," added he, " I have news of my mother ! " But scarcely had he perused a few lines of the epistle than he ORDERS. 109 turned pale, while his features expressed the most lively astonishment mingled with the deepest distress. 4 Oh, God !" cried he; " my mother ! my beloved mother !" " Has any thing happened to her ? " exclaimed Rodin, starting from his seat in alarm at the sudden exclamation of his patron. " Alas I " returned the latter, with most poignant agony, " all hopes of her recovery are at an end. The late favourable symptoms have proved deceitful, and she has relapsed into an almost hopeless state ; still her physician thinks that my presence might yet save her, for she incessantly calls for me, and prays to behold me yet once again, that she may die in peace. And shall I not fly to perform so sacred a duty ? to fail were to be a parricide indeed ! Heaven grant I may only reach her in time ! Travelling night and day, it will be two days ere I reach the princess's estate." "Great God!" said Rodin, clasping his hands, and raising his eyes to the ceiling, " what a blow ! " The superior rose, and hastily pulling the bell, it was answered by an old domestic, to whom he said, hurriedly, " Pack hastily such things as are indispensably necessary for a journey ; have the travelling carriage prepared with all speed, and bid the porter take a cabriolet and proceed as quickly as may be to order post-horses instantly ; I must depart within an hour." The servant bowed and retired. " And what if I should never again in life behold this beloved parent ? there is agony in the very thought. Oh ! ray mother ! my mother !" reiterated he, sinking into a chair, overwhelmed with an- guish, and covering his face with his outspread hands ; " for your dear sake, surely Heaven will spare me this bitter trial." And this burst of grief was of nature's own working ; no art, no feigned sorrow, mingled with the pure and sacred feeling. This man, so hard, so cold, and even so guilty in some transactions of his life, had preserved for his mother the most devoted affection ; and chilled as was his heart to every other finer sympathy of our nature, his filial fondness for his almost adored parent had remained un- touched, undiminished, through all the various changes and schemes of his chequered career. After some moments permitted to the indulgence of his agonised feelings, Rodin ventured to arouse him, by displaying a second letter, and observing, " This has just arrived from M. Duplessis ; it is most important, and in extreme haste." "See what it contains, and reply to it; I cannot attend to it at present myself." " But," said Rodin, presenting the epistle to his patron, " this letter is marked ' strictly private and confidential,' and bears the usual mark of being intended for your perusal alone. I cannot, therefore, open unless " As the eyes of the superior fell on the mark, his countenance assumed an indescribable expression of fear and respect; with a trembling hand he broke the seal, the billet merely contained these words : "Leaving all other matterf, set out withoitt an instant's delay ; 110 THE WANDERING JEW. come you are imperatively required. M. Duple&sis will take your place t an d has all the necessary instructions." The paper fell from his trembling fingers. " Merciful powers !" exclaimed the distracted man ; " what fresh trial awaits me ? What ! obey this mandate ! and renounce the melan- choly delight of once again beholding a dying parent? Oh ! horrible ! not to be thought of! Not go to her ! 'Twould be making me a parricide, indeed ! my own dear mother's murderer !" As he wildly uttered these words, his perturbed glance was arrested by the huge globe, dotted over with small red crosses ; and quickly again a change came over him. He seemed to regret his recent impetuosity and unrestrained grief, and by degrees his countenance, though still sorrowful, recovered its usual calm, grave expression. Giving the letter back to his secretary, he said, stifling a heavy sigh, " Number and class this paper." Rodin took the letter, numbered it, and placed it in a particular case. After a short pause, the patron continued, " You will receive all necessary directions from M. Duplessis, who will take my place while absent. Give him the paper concerning the medals, he will know who t'o forward it to. You will reply to our communications from Batavia, Leipsic, and Charlestown, as I dictated but now. By all and every means prevent the daughters of General Simon from quitting Leipsic ; and should (though it is highly im- probable, and scarcely possible, that such should be the case) Prince Djalma arrive in Batavia, inform M. Joshua Van Dael that it is expected he will use his accustomed zeal and energy to detain him there." So saying, the man who could thus turn a deaf ear to the summons of an expiring parent returned to his apartment cool and self-pos- sessed as ever. Rodin, meanwhile, occupied himself in transcribing in ciphers the different replies he had been directed to send. At the close of three quarters of an hour thus employed, the trampling of horses and the cracking of whips announced the arrival of the postilions and post-horses for the approaching departure ; the same old domestic who had previously appeared, having first discreetly tapped at the door, opened it gently, saying, " The carriage is ready ! " and as Rodin acknowledged his inform- ation by a slight inclination of the head, the servant retired as noise- lessly as he had entered. The secretary arose, and in his turn knocked at the door of his patron's chamber, who, calm and collected as before, but looking ghastly pale, immediately came forth, bearing a letter in his hand. " For my mother," said be, delivering it to Rodin ; " let a courier be sent off with it instantly." "This instant," replied the secretary. " And despatch the three letters for Leipsic, Batavia, and Charles- town, by the customary mode of conveyance ; it is of the very utmost importance that they be sent without a minute's delay. You under- stand ? " Such were the last words of this man, who, acting as pitilessly '"''I*' ;!!':; -:ftifii|A-i \ -(I < ', ! tilntti PKRE D'AIORIGNY. P. 110. ORDERS. Ill towards himself as he was doing to others, departed without making any further effort to visit his dying mother. His secretary respectfully accompanied him to the door of his carriage. " What route do I take, monsieur ? " asked the courier, turning round on his saddle. " To Italy," replied Rodin's patron, with a sigh so deep, so full of suffering, that it more resembled a sob. As the carriage dashed off at full speed, Rodin bowed with pro- found respect, and then retraced his steps to the large, cold, naked- looking apartment he had just quitted. And now that he found him- self alone in it, his attitude, demeanour, and countenance, appeared to undergo an entire transformation. No longer the mere automaton yielding an implicit and mechanical obedience to the will and commands of another, he seemed to increase in height, while his hitherto motionless features and downcast eyes were lighted up by an expression of fiendish audacity, while a sardonic smile played on his thin pale lips, and a sinister self-satisfied gleam diffused itself over his wrinkled, contracted countenance. He too paused to contemplate the ponderous globe, and his' medi- tations were evidently as deep and absorbing as his master's had been. Then stooping over it, and almost embracing it with his long lank arms, he continued to feast his reptile gaze with its dotted surface ; then passing his hard bony finger over the polished surface of the globe, he, by turns, tapped with his broad ill-shaped nail on three of the places marked with red crosses, and as he touched each place, so widely distant from the other, he gave a. look of demoniacal delight while he loudly pronounced its name ; and first he uttered, " Leipsic" then " Charleslown, Satavia," adding, " In each of these so widely separated cities are persons far from dreaming that here, in this small obscure street, in the recesses of this chamber, they are watched their every movement known and followed, and that from hence will instructions be despatched, in- volving their dearest plans, their most lively interests, and decrees sent forth which admit of no escape or appeal, but will most inex- orably be followed up : for motives are involved affecting the whole of Europe nay, the universe itself. Happily we have firm and able co- adjutors in Leipsic, Batavia, and Charlestown." The individual thus soliloquising, so old, sordid, and ill-dressed, with his livid death-like visage, thus crawling with slimy tread over the bright face of the earth, as though to blot its fair surface by deeds of wrong and treachery, was even a more fearful object to behold as he stood than had been his employer, when, but now, with haughty and imperious air, he placed his daring clutch on the pole of that globe, whose whole extent seemed barely sufficient to satisfy his craving ambition and desire of domination. The one resembled an eagle hovering over his anticipated prey, the other reminded you of the reptile clasping his victim in his inextricable folds preparatory to destroying it. At length Rodin quitted the object of his intense meditation, and, returning to his desk, eagerly rubbed his hands with every appearance 112 THE WANDERING JEW. of self-gratulation, then proceeded to write the following letter, using a cipher with which even his patron was unacquainted. " Paris, 9 o'clock, A.M. " HE lias gone, but not without HESITATION. When he received the order for departure, he had just been summoned to the death-bed of his mother. He was told /ter only cJiance of life lay in his presence. In his first emotion he exclaimed, ' Shall I not instantly fly to my parent ? I were a parricide else / ' "Nevertheless HE has gone, but he HESITATED IN so DOING. " / still carefully watch him. These lines will reach ROME as quickly as he will. " P.S. Assure the prince cardinal he may fully rely on me, but tliat I expect, in his turn, he will serve me with equal zeal and activity." After having folded and sealed this letter, Rodin deposited it in his pocket. Ten o'clock struck this was M. Rodin's breakfast hour. He ar- ranged his papers, and placed them in a drawer, which he carefully locked and took the key from, brushed his greasy old hat with the sleeve of his coat, took up a shabby patched umbrella, and went out.* * * * * * * While these two men were busied in this obscure retreat, laying plans to injure and involve the seven descendants of a once proscribed family, a strange and mysterious protector appeared to protect and support a family to which he likewise claimed affinity. CHAPTER XVII. EPILOGUE. THE site is rugged and wild. It is a high hill covered with vast blocks of granite, from amongst which, few and far between, are birch- trees and oaks, whose leaves already shew the tints of autumn. These large trees appear still larger in the red rays cast by the setting sun, and which resemble the reflexion of a fire. From this height the eye directs its vision into a deep valley, which, shady and fertile, is half-obscured by the thin vapour which descends with the twilight. The rank meadows, the clumps of umbrageous trees, the fields, shorn of their ripened grain, mingle in * After having cited the excellent and courageous " Letters " of M. Libri, and the curious work edited by M. Paulin, it becomes our duty equally to make mention of the many highly valuable and daring productions on the Jesuits, recently published by Messieurs Dupiu 1'aine, Michelet, Ed. Quinet, Gt-nin. the Count de Saint. Priestswritings full of the highest and most impartial information, and in which the fatal influence of the theories promulgated by this order are so admirably dis- played and censured. We should deem ourselves but too happy if the few humble stones we bring serve to aid in the powerful (and let us hope) lasting defence now being raised by these noble-spirited and right-minded men against the inroads of this impure and formidable stream, E. S. EPILOGUE. 113 one sombre and uniform hue, contrasting strongly with the clear blue of the firmament Uoofs of gray -stone or slate, thrust, in various places, their sharp angles above the soil of the valley, for several villages were scattered through it, on the borders of a long line of road extending from north to west. It is the hour of rest it is the hour when generally the window of each hut shines with the sparkling blaze of the cheerful wood fire, and is seen from afar through the shade of the foliage, whilst the curling smoke, hastening through the chimneys, ascends gently towards heaven. Yet, strange to say, it would appear that throughout this district the hearths are untenanted deserted. Still more strange, more fear- ful still, all the bells are tolling the funeral knell of the dead. All the activity, motion, and life, seem concentrated in this dismal sound, which echoes far and wide. Hut at length, in this village almost wrapt in darkness, the lights began to appear. These are not produced by the bright and joyful flame of the rustic hearth, but are red and dull, like a watch-fire seen through the evening fog. And these lights do not remain motionless, they wave gently towards the cemetery of each church. There the death-knell redoubles, the air trembles under the heavy tinkling of the bells, and, at rare intervals, the hymns for the repose of the souls of the dead reach faintly to the summit of the hill. Wherefore so many burials? What is this valley of desolation? Where are the peaceful strains that should follow the day's labour ? why are they displaced by the hymns for the departed ? Wherefore is the repose of evening replaced by the repose of death ? What is this valley of desolation, wherein each village bewails so many dead at the same time, and inters them at the same hour, on the same night ? Alas ! the mortality is so rife, so rapid, so fearful, that hardly enough of the living are left to bury the dead. During the day severe and requisite toil is done by the survivors, and in the evening only, on their return from the fields, are they able, though worn out by fatigue, to make that deeper furrow in the soil, in which they deposit their friends and kinsfolk like grains of wheat in the plough-land. This valley is not solitary in thus suffering from desolation. For many wretched years many villages, many towns, many cities, nay, immense districts, have been like this valley their hearth-fires extinct and forsaken; have seen, like this valley, mourning substi- tuted for joy; the death-toll replace the sounds of pleasure; have, like this valley, wept for the many dead the same day ; and buried them at ii'ght, by the dull light of the funereal torch. For many dreadful years a horrible traveller has slowly overrun the earth from pole to pole from the furthermost parts of India and Asia, to the endless snows of Siberia from the snows of Siberia, to the shores of the Atlantic Ocean. This traveller, mysterious as death, slow as eternity, implacable as destiny, terrible in the hand of God, was The CHOLERA ! I * * * * 8 i 114 THE WANDERING JEW. The noise of the funeral bells and hymns ascended still from the bottom to the summit of the valley, with a loud and wailing voice. The light of the funereal torches was seen afar through the gloom of the evening. The twilight was not yet obscured, but there was that singular glimmering which gives to forms the most defined a vague, indefinite, and fantastic appearance. The stony and echoing soil of the mountain path gives out the sounds of a slow, firm, and equal tread a man has passed across the black trunks of the tall trees. His stature is high ; he keeps his head lowered on his breast ; his countenance is noble, gentle, and sad ; his eyebrows, united into one, extended from one temple to the other, and spread over his forehead one ray of sinistrous aspect. This man seemed not to hear the distant tinklings of the funeral bells ; and yet, but two days before, tranquillity, happiness, health, and joy, reigned in these spots which he had slowly traversed, and now left behind him desolate and deserted. But the traveller wended onwards absorbed in these thoughts : " The 13th of February approaches they come ; those days in which the descendants of my beloved sister, these last branches of our race, would be assembled in Paris. " Alas ! for the third time, one hundred and fifty years ago, per- secution scattered all over the earth that family which, with tender- ness, I have followed from age to age for eighteen centuries, in the midst of their wanderings, their exiles, their changes of religion, of fortune, and of name ! " Oh ! this family, the progeny of my sister the sister of me, a poor artisan* how has it suffered in abasements, in obscurity, in brilliancy, in miseries, in glory ! " By how many virtues has it been illustrated by how many vices stained ! " The history of this one family is the history of all the children of humanity. " Passing through so many generations, flowing through the veins of the poor and rich, the sovereign and the robber, the wise and the foolish, the coward and the brave, the pious and the atheist, the blood of my sister has been perpetuated to this time. " What of this family remains at this hour? " Seven offspring ! " Two orphan girls, children of a proscribed mother and proscribed father " A dethroned prince " A poor missionary priest " The subject of the legend ol'tbe " Wandering Jew" is that of a poor shoemaker of Jerusalem. When Christ, bearing his cross, pa-ssrd before his house, and asked his leave to repose for a moment on the stone bench at his door, the Jew replied harshly, "Ontrardi! Onuard*!" and refused him. "It it thou who shall go onward* iiiiiiinl.i till the end of time ! " was Christ's reply, in u sad hot severe tone. For more details, our readers should refer to the eloquent and learned notice of M. Charles Maguin, which introduces M. Ed. Quiuet's magnificent poem of " Ahasuerus.'* EUGENE SUE. EPILOGUE. 115 " A man in the circumstances of middle life " A young maiden of illustrious birth, and vast fortune " A mechanic *' And amongst them they comprise the virtues, the courage, the degradation, the splendours, the miseries of our race ! " Siberia India America France Fate has thrown them in nil these countries ! " Instinct warns me when one of them is in danger then, from north to south, from east to west, I go to them. Yesterday, beneath the ices of the pole to-day, to the temperate zone to-morrow, beneath the tropics' scorching ray ; but alas ! often at the moment when my presence would save them, an invisible hand impels me, the whirlwind hurries me away, and " ONWARDS ! ONWARDS ! " Let me finish my task ! " ONWARDS! " One hour only ! One moment's rest ! " ONWARDS ! " Alas ! I leave those I love, on the very brink of an abyss ! " ONWARDS ! ONWARDS ! " This is my chastisement. If it is great, my crime was greater still ! " A mechanic, kept in privation and misery, misfortune made me wicked. " Oh ! cursed cursed for ever be the day when, whilst I was fasting, dull, melancholy, desperate, because, in spite of my constant labour, my family were still in want, Christ passed before my door! " Overwhelmed by insults, borne down by blows, and bearing with toil and great difficulty his heavy cross, he asked me to allow him to rest, for one moment only, on my stone bench. His forehead poured down with sweat, his feet were bleeding, his face in agony ; and, with touching sweetness, he said to me, ' I suffer I ' ' And I also suffer,' I answered, in a brutal tone, repulsing him with harshness and rage 'I suffer : but no one comes to my aid. The pitiless create the pitiless. Onwards ! Onwards ! ' " Then he, heaving a deep sigh, said to me, " ' And t/iou shalt go otiwards until the Day of Judgment ; so does HE will it, the Lord iv/io is in heaven' 11 And my chastisement began. " Too late did I see my error ; too late have I known repentance ; too late have I known charity ; too late, indeed, have I understood the Divine words of him I so outraged those words which ought to be the law of all human kind ' LOVE ONE ANOTHER.' " In vain, for ages, seeking to deserve forgiveness, exhausting my strength and eloquence in these heavenly words, have I filled with pity and love many hearts filled with envy, hatred, and all uncharitableness: in vain have I inspired many souls with a holy horror of oppression and injustice. ' The day of mercy has not yet arrived ! " And as the first man, by his fall, devoted his posterity to mis- fortune, so M'ould they say that I, an artisan, have devoted all artisans 116 THE WANDERING JEW. to eternal miseries, and that they expiate my crime : for they alone, for eighteen centuries, have not been emancipated. " For eighteen centuries, the powerful and the happy say to the working classes what I said to the imploring and suffering Christ " ' Onwards ! Onwards f ' " And these people, like him, broken down with fatigue and bear- ing a heavy cross, say, as he did, with bitter sadness, ' Oh ! for pity's sake, some moments of rest we are exhausted ! ' " Onwards/ " But we shall die on the way ; and what then will become of our little ones, old mothers? " Onwards ! Onwards ! " And for ages and ages they shall go on, and on, and on, and suffer suffer, whilst no pitying voice says to us, Enough ! " Alas ! such is my chastisement ; it is terrible to bear it is two- fold weighty. " I suffer in the name of all humanity when I see the wretched population sacrificed, without relaxation, to rude and ungrateful toil. " I suffer in the name of every family when I am unable I, poor and wandering to come to the rescue of my own, of the descendants of a dearly beloved sister. " But when my grief o'ermasters my strength when I foresee for my family a danger from which I cannot save them, thus traversing worlds, my thoughts desire to seek the woman cursed as I am that queen's daughter,* who, like me, the child of an artisan, goes onwards, onwards, till the day of redemption. " Once only in a century, eveii as two planets approach each other in their secular revolutions, may I meet this woman during the fatal week of the Passion. " And after this interview, full of fearful recollections and thrilling grief, we, the wandering stars of eternity, again proceed on our endless journey. " And she, the only one with me on earth who is present at the close of each century, and says, Again I ' she, from one end of the universe to the other, responds to my thought. " She, who alone in the world shews an equal destiny with myself, would also share the sole interest which has for ages consoled me. These descendants of my sister she too loves protects them also. For them she also, too, from the east and the west, and the north and the south, goes comes. "But, alas! the invisible hand impels her also the whirlwind hurries her away likewise. And " ONWARDS !" " ' Let me but complete my task,' she too exclaims. " ONWARDS I" " One hour one single hour of rest 1" " ONWARDS!" " I leave those I love on the brink of an abyss." " ONWARDS ! ONWARDS I " **## * According to a legend hut little known, Herodias was condemned to wander till the Day of Judgment for having demanded John the Baptist's head. EPILOGUE. 1 Whilst this man thus passed along the mountain, deeply abstracted in his thoughts, the evening breeze, till then but light, had increased, the wind became louder and. louder, and lightning darted along the sky ; whilst deep and loud howlings announced the coming storm. Suddenly, this accursed man, who could neither weep nor smile, shuddered. No physical harm could affect him : yet lie placed his hand sud- denly on liis heart, as it' he experienced sojne deadly blow. " Oh!" he cried, " I feel it I At this hour, many of my race, the descendants of my dearly beloved sister, sutler and undergo great peril : some in uttermost India, others in America, others here in Germany. The struggle again commences devilish passions are again excited. Oh ! thou who nearest me, thou, wandering as I am, and accursed as I am, Herodias, aid me to protect them : let my prayer reach thee in the depths of the solitudes of America, where at this moment thou art ! Oh ! that we may be in time to save them!" Then a remarkable phenomenon occurred. It was now night. This man made an effort to return quickly on his path ; but an invisible form prevented him, and thrust him in the opposite direction. At this moment the tempest burst forth in all its dark and fierce majesty. One of those whirlwinds which uproots trees, tears up rocks, passed over the mountain-top as quick and terrible as the levin bolt. In the midst of the howling of the storm, and the glare of the lightning, the man, with the forehead branded by his black hair, was seen hurrying along the mountain-side, and, descending with rapid strides across the rocks and trees, bent beneath the power of the hurricane. His step was no longer slow, firm, composed ; but painfully im- pelled, like a person hurried on by an irresistible force, or whom a fearful storm carried away in its whirlwind. In vain did the man extend his supplicating hands towards heaven, he disappeared rapidly in the darkness of the night and the howl of the tempest. 118 THE WANDERING JEW. PART III. THE STRANGLERS.* CHAPTER XVIII. THE AJOUPA. WHILST M. Rodin was despatching his universal correspondence from the Rue du Mileu-des-Ursins, at Pans; whilst the daughters of General Simon, after having quitted the inn of the White Falcon as fugitives, were, with Dagobert, confined as prisoners at Leipsic, other scenes, in which they were deeply interested, were passing similarly, and at the same moment, at the other extremity of the world, in the very depths of Asia, in the isle of Java, not far from the city of Batavia, the residence of M. Joshua Van Duel, one of the correspou- dents of M. Rodiu. Java! that magnificent and fearful clime, where the most lovely flowers conceal the most hideous reptiles ; where the most tempting fruit contain the most subtle poisons; where spring those splendid trees whose shadow is death ; where the vampire, an enormous bat, sucks up the blood of the victims whose sleep he prolongs, by wafting over them an air full of freshness and perfume, for the most briskly used fan is not more rapid than the motion of the vast and scented wings of this monster. The month of October, 1831, was nearly at its close. It is noon, an hour almost deadly for any one who dares the burn- ing sun, which was full in the sky, whose blue enamel was dappled with streaks of blazing light. An ajoupa, a sort of sleeping pavilion, made with mats of bulrush stretched upon thick bamboos driven deeply into the ground, might be seen in the midst of the dark-blue shade cast by a tuft of trees, whose verdure was as bright as the greenest porcelain ; those trees, of fan- tastic forms, were here bent into the shape of arcades here straight as arrows there arranged like parasols, and so tufty, so thick, so en- tangled one in the other, that the roof they formed was impenetrable to rain. The ground, always marshy in spite of the glowing heat, disap- peared here beneath the masses of bindweed, fern, and thick rushes, * Phantigars, or stranglers (from the Hindoo word phasna, to strangle). We shall give, farther on, details of this remarkable community, called '* The Good Work." THE AJOUPA. 119 all in the freshness and vigour of rank vegetation, and which, growing almost to the top of the ajoupa, concealed it like a nest amidst the grass. Nothing could be more suffocating than this atmosphere, scented as it was with moist exhalations, which steamed up like boiling water, and impregnated as it was with the most overpowering and pungent odours, for the cinnamon-tree, the ginger, the gardenia, the stepha- notis, mingling amongst these trees and creepers, gave out in volumes their sable and acrid odours. This cabin was covered over with large banana leaves ; at one end was a square aperture, which served for a window, and trellised over very finely with vegetable fibres, to prevent the noxious reptiles and venomous insects from entering the ajoupa. The vast trunk of a dead tree, still standing but very much bent, and whose top touched the roof of the ajoupa, sprung from the under- wood ; from each cleft and crevice of its black, rugged, and moss- covered bark, there appeared a peculiar and fantastic flower the wing of a butterfly is not of more fragile tissue, of more brilliant purple, or more velvetty black those unknown birds we see in dreams have not forms more bizarre than these orchydes, winged flowers, which always seem ready to fly away from their slender and leafless stalks : the curling cactus, flexible and rounded, and which seem like apples, also clung round the trunk of this tree, and their green arms, laden with large bell-flowers, of a silvery white, shaded within by a brilliant orange, hung down in clusters, shedding a strong odour of vanilla. A little snake, of a blood-red colour, about as thick as a quill, and five or six inches in length, hung with his head half out of one of these enormous perfumed cups, in which he lay nestled and coiled. At the bottom of the ajoupa was a young man, stretched on a mat and soundly asleep. To contemplate his clear yellow and gold-coloured complexion, he might have been taken for a statue of pale copper, on which a sun- beam rested ; his attitude was simple and graceful his right arm was folded under his head, which reposed upon it, and was somewhat raised and in profile ; his large dress of white muslin, with long hanging sleeves, displayed his chest, worthy of Antinous ; marble is not more firm and solid than his skin, of which the dark hue contrasted singu- larly with the whiteness of his dress. On his wide and powerful chest was a deep scar, which he had received from a musket-ball when de- fending the life of General Simon, the father of Rose and Blanche. He wore round his neck a small medal similar to that which the two sisters possessed. It was Djalma the Indian. His features were equally noble and beautiful ; hi* hair was of a blue-black, parted over the forehead, and falling wavy, but not curling, on his shoulder ; his eyebrows, boldly and perfectly drawn, were also of jet black, as were the long eyelids whose shade was thrown over his beardless checks ; his lips, of a dark red, half open, gave forth an ap- propriate sigh, whilst his slumber was heavy and painful, as the heat became more and more suffocating. Without the sileuce was profound. There was not a breath of air stirring. 120 THE WANDERING JEW. After a few moments, however, the vast creepers which covered the ground began to move almost imperceptibly, as if some animal slowly creeping along had shaken their stalks. From time to time this slight movement ceased, and all was again still as death. After several intervals between this motion and its cessation, a human head appeared in the midst of the rushes at a short distance from the trunk of the decayed tree. It was a man of sinister aspect, with a complexion of greenish bronze, his long hair twisted about his head, his eyes glaring with savage feeling, and a countenance replete with intelligence and ferocity. Holding his breath, he remained for a moment motionless, and then, advancing on his hands and knees, pushed aside the leaves so gently that not a sound was heard ; and thus progressing, until he reached the sloping trunk of the dead tree whose top reached nearly to the top of the ajoupa. This man, a Malay by origin, and belonging to the sect of Stranglers, having again carefully listened, drew himself almost entirely out of the underwood. Excepting a sort of white cotton drawers fastened round his loins by a handkerchief of most gaudy colours, he was entirely naked, whilst a thick dressing of oil was smeared all over his bronzed, supple, and nervous limbs. . Stretching himself upon the vast bole of the tree on the side farthest from the hut, and thus concealed by the bulk of the tree almost overgrown by the creepers, he began to climb it with extreme care and patience. In the undulations of his backbone, the flexibility of his movements, and his enduring strength, the extent of which must have been terrible, there was something which resembled the stilly and treacherous step of the tiger crawling to his prey. Reaching at length, and unobserved, the part of the tree which in its bend almost touched the roof of the cabin, he was not more than a foot distance from the small window. Then, stretching forth his head with the utmost caution, he cast his eyes into the interior of the hut, and tried to discover some mode by which he could enter. At the sight of Djalma in a deep sleep, the bright eyes of the Strangler shone with redoubled brilliancy, and a nervous contraction, or rather, a silent and scornful laugh, curling the two corners of his mouth, drew them up towards his cheek-bones, and displayed two rows of teeth filed triangularly like the teeth of a saw, and dyed of a jet and shining black. Djalma was sleeping so, and so near the door of the ajoupa (which opened inwards from without), that if any one had attempted to open the door ever so little, he would have awakened in an instant. The Strangler, whose body was hidden by the tree, desiring to examine the interior of the cabin a little more closely, leaned forward, and, to maintain his position, placed his hand lightly on the sill of the opening which served for a window : his motion shook the large flower of the cactus, at the bottom of which the small snake lay coiled, and, darting out, he twined rapidly round the Strangler's wrist. Pain and surprise extracted from him a slight cry; and, as he retreated behind the tree to which he still clung, he saw that Djalma had stirred. THE AJOUPA. 121 The young Indian, still keeping his posture of repose, half opened his eyes, turned his head towards the little window, and breathed forth a veiy deep sigh, for the concentrated heat under this thick vault of humid verdure was intolerable. Djalma had scarcely stirred, when there was heard from behind the tree that brief, sharp, and shrill cry, which the bird of paradise utters when he seizes his prey, and which resembles the pheasant's mate. This cry, often repeated, became weaker and weaker, as if the beautiful bird was on the wing. And Djalma, believing that he had discovered the cause of the noise which had aroused him for the moment, slightly stretched the arm on which his head rested, and went oft' to sleep again almost without changing his position. For some minutes the most profound silence reigned again in this solitude : all was silent. The Strangler, by his skilful imitation of the cry of a bird,' had managed to repair the imprudent exclamation of surprise and agony which the reptile's sting had wrung from him. When he imagined that Djalma would be again asleep, he carefully protruded his head, and saw that the youthful Indian was again slumbering soundly. Then descending the tree with the same precautions he had hitherto observed, although his left hand was swollen from the bite of the serpent, he disappeared amidst the tufts of rushes. At this moment there was heard a distant singing, in a monoto- nous and melancholy voice. The Strangler stood up, listened attentively, and his face assumed an expression of surprise and sinister meaning. The sound drew nearer to the cabin. At the end of a few seconds an Indian appeared in an opening, coming straight to the spot where the Strangler was hidden. He then took a long and thin cord which was encircled round his waist, at one of the extremities of which was a ball of lead, in shape and size like an egg. After having tied the other end of this string round his right wrist, the Strangler again listened, and then disap- peared, groping his way along the tall grass in the direction of the Indian, who came on slowly, singing his plaintive and gentle ditty. He was a young man, hardly twenty years of age, the slave of Djalma, and had the dark skin of his country. His waist was encir- cled with a gay handkerchief, which confined his blue cotton vest, and he wore a small turban, with rings of silver in his ears and round his wrists. He was bringing a message to his master, who, during the heat of the day, was reposing in this ajoupa, which was at some distance from the house in which he resided. When he reached a point where the path divided; the slave, with- out hesitating, took that which led to the hut, from which he was then hardly forty paces distant. One of those enormous butterflies of Java, whose wings, when ex- tended, measure from six to eight inches across, and displaying two rays of gold, arising from a body of ultramarine, was flitting from leaf to leaf, and had just settled on a bush of gardenias within reach of the young Indian. He ceased his song, stopped, put out his foot carefully, then his hand, and seized the butterfly. 122 THE WANDERING JEW. At this instant, the sinister visage of the Strangler arose before him; he heard a whistling like that of a sling, and then felt a eord, thrown with equal swiftness and power, encircle his neck with a triple fold, and, at the same moment, the lead with which it was loaded struck him violently on the back of his head. The assault was so sudden and unexpected, that Djalma's attend- ant could not utter one cry one groan. He staggered the Strangler gave a violent twist to his cord the dark visage of the slave became a black purple, and he fell on his knees, tossing his arms wildly in the air. The Strangler turned him over, and twisted his cord so violently that the blood rushed through the skin. The victim made a few con- vulsive struggles, and all was over. During this rapid but brief agony, the murderer, kneeling beside his victim, watched his blighted convulsions, fixing his glaring eyes on him, and appearing as if enjoying an ecstasy of delight. His nostrils expanded, the veins in his temples and neck swelled thickly, and the same sinister laugh, which had curled his lips when he saw Djalma sleeping, again displayed his black and pointed fangs, whilst a con- vulsion of the jaw made them chatter against each other. But soon he crossed his arms over his panting chest, bent his forehead, and murmured forth mysterious words, which seemed either an invocation or a prayer, and then again he resumed that savage contemplation with which the sight of the dead carcass inspired him. The hyaena and the tiger-cat, who always crouch beside the prey they have surprised in the chase before they devour it, have not a look more fierce, bloody, and rejoicing, than had this man. But, recollecting that his task was not yet accomplished, he tore himself away with regret from this sight of death, and, disentangling his cord from the neck of his victim, he restored it to its place around his waist, dragged the dead corpse out of the pathway, and, without at- tempting to despoil it of its rings of silver, hid the body in a thick bush of rushes. Then the Strangler, again going on hands and knees, reached Djalma's cabin, which was made of mats fastened to bamboos. After having listened very attentively, he drew from his waist a knife, whose keen and glittering blade \vas wrapped in a leaf of banana, and cut in a mat an incision about three feet long. This he did so rapidly, and with a blade so trenchant, that the slight noise of a diamond over glass sounds more loudly. Seeing through this opening, \\hicli he intended to pass through, that Djalma still slept, the Strangler glided into the hut with un- hesitating boldness. CHAPTER XIX. THE TATTOOING. THE sky, which until then was of a transparent azure, became overcast, and the sun was partially hidden by a red and lowering mist. THE TATTOOING. P. Itt. London: Chapman and Hall. January 1, THE TATTOOING. 123 This strange light cast curious shadows on all objects, and every thing seemed as a landscape would do viewed through a piece of cop- per-coloured glass. In these climates, this phenomenon, united with the increase of the fierce heat, always announces the approach of a tempest. From time to time there was a sulphurous smell, then the leaves, slightly stirred by the electric current, trembled on their stalks, then fell into a silence and utter want of motion. The weight of this burning atmosphere, saturated with acrid per- fumes, became almost insupportable. Large beads of sweat dropped from Djalma's brow, plunged as he was in enervating sleep, which was no refreshment or repose, but an overwhelming pain. The Strangler, gliding along the sides [of the ajoupa, and crawling on his stomach to Djalma's mat, at first stooped low beside him, and then raised himself up, occupying the smallest possible space. Then began a fearful scene, surrounded by mystery and in silence. The life of Djalma was at the Strangler's mercy j who, drawing him- self together, and supporting his whole weight upon his hands and knees, remained with extended neck and tixed gaze, like a wild beast about to spring upon his prey, a slight convulsive tremor in his lower jaw alone disturbing his bronzed countenance ; but quickly were his hideous features distorted by the struggle passing within him between the thirst for blood, the enjoyment of murder, doubly excited by the recent assassination of the slave, and the prohibition he had received not to aim at the life of Djalma, although the motive which had brought him to the ajoupa was fraught with evil designs the young Indian would have dreaded far more than death itself. Twice had the Strangler, whose looks kindled momentarily into in- creased ferocity, supporting himself only on his right hand, seized the extremity of his fatal cord, but the murderous design failed before the all-powerful influence which bore irresistible control over the mind of the Malay, and the extended hand was involuntarily withheld even at the moment when his savage soul most craved for blood ; and, in his insensate craving for murder, he allowed precious moments to es- cape, which might involve not only the success of his mission, but his very life ; for Djalma, whose vigour, address, and courage, were every where known and estimated, might awake, and, though un- armed, prove a formidable adversary. As, at length, these reflections forced themselves on the mind of the Strangler, with a deep and bitter sigh he resigned himself to the stern necessity of allowing his victim to live, and prepared himself to accomplish the task assigned him, a task which, to any but him, would have api>eared utterly impossible. Let the reader judge for himself. Djalma was sleeping with his face turned toward the left hand, his head supported on his arm. It was therefore requisite to induce him, with waking, to alter his position by turning in a contrary direction ; that is to say, towards the door, that, in the event of his suddenly awaken- ing, his tirst glance might not fall on the Malay ; and, in order to effect this, it was requisite the latter should remain some time in the pavilion. Meanwhile the heavens became more overcast, and the heat became 124 THE WANDERING JEW. intense. All conspired to prolong the deep slumber of the prince and to favour the designs of the Strangler, who, kneeling beside the young Indian, passed his quick fingers, previously rendered soft and supple by oiling them, over the eyelids, forehead, and temples of Djalma, managing the operation so delicately and skilfully, as to render the contact of the two skins scarcely perceptible. As the magnetic incantation proceeded, the large drops of per- spiration which bedewed the countenance of the sleeper became more abundantly large ; he sighed heavily, and a convulsive tremor passed over his features ; for these light touches, though insufficient to break his trance-like slumber, yet evidently caused him a feeling of great un- easiness and discomfort. Watching him with an eager, anxious eye, the Strangler continued his mano3uvre with so much patience, perseverance, and dexterity, that Djalma, whose sleep remained unbroken, unable longer to endure the oppressive sensations he experienced without being in any way con- scious of their origin, yet restless and uncomfortable, mechanically threw his right arm across his face, as though to free himself from the annoyance of some troublesome insect which had found admission to the ajoupa, but, yielding to the enervating effects of the heat which prevailed, his uplifted hand fell heavy and powerless on his breast. Perceiving by this favourable circumstance that he was proceeding towards the full accomplishment of his design, the Strangler redoubled his manoeuvres and increased his applications to the temples and fore- head of his victim ; and this he effected with so much address, that Djalma, yielding more and more to the drowsiness it inspired, and having neither will nor power sufficient to direct his hand towards his face, mechanically moved his head, which sunk languidly on his right shoulder, as though seeking by this change of position to escape from the disagreeable feelings which surrounded him. This point achieved, the Malay now went boldly to work, but, anxious to render the slum- ber he had partially disturbed as sound as possible, he sought to imi- tate the deadly practice of the vampire, which fans its prey into the sleep ending but in death, by the undulations of its wings. So did the Strangler continue gently to wave and agitate his hands, with the rapid motion of a fan, over the burning countenance of the young Indian. At this delightful and unexpected change from oppressive heat to refreshing coolness, the features of the prince assumed a look of soft repose and peaceful enjoyment ; his chest expanded, his respiration became easy and gentle, while his half-open lips seemed to court the beneficent breeze which had just arisen ; and his sleep became so much the sounder, as it now was the result of perfect ease and enjoyment, instead of being (as before) in a manner forced and constrained. A sudden flash of lightning illumined the leafy screen which encir- cled the ajoupa ; and the Malay, fearing that the noise of the accompanying thunder might awaken the prince, lost not an instant in the fulfilment of his project. Djalma now lay extended on his back, with his head on his right shoulder, while his right arm was extended at full length. The Strangler, concealing himself on the left side of the bed, ceased by degrees to fan the prince, and with incredible dexterity proceeded THE TATTOOING. 125 to lift up the long white muslin sleeve of his dress almost to the shoulder. Then, drawing from the pocket of his cotton drawers a small brass box, he took from it a needle of an almost indescribable fineness and sharpness, and a piece of a dark-looking root, into which he plunged the needle repeatedly, and at each injection there issued forth a white viscous liquid. When the Strangler deemed the needle sufficiently imbued with the juice of the root, he bent over his sleeping victim, and blew gently upon the internal portion of Djalma's arm, in order to induce him to extend it to receive the additional coolness by his breath ; then with the point of his fine needle he traced on the arm of the prince certain mysterious and symbolical signs and characters. All this was executed with so much skill and quickness, that Djalma was utterly unconscious of the operation, and felt not the fine and delicate point of the instrument, or the slight puncture it made as it slightly wounded the epidermis. At first the marks traced by the Strangler were of a faint pink colour, so pale as to be scarcely visible, and as fine as a hair ; but so potent and penetrating was the power of the juice into which the needle had been dipped, that, as it spread beneath the skin and mingled with the fine veins it passed over, the colour deepened by degrees, until, at the lapse of a few hours, the at first indistinct and almost invisible characters assumed a deep blood-coloured hue, recognisable at the quickest glance. The Strangler, having thus successfully performed his mission, surveyed the slumbering Indian with a look of brutal satisfaction, and, bestowing a last lingering look of murderous ferocity, crawled away as silently as he had entered, and, regaining the opening which had served to admit him within the hut, he carefully closed the aperture, so as to effectually prevent any suspicion of his visit, and disappeared in the mazes of the forest, just as the loud thunder began to peal forth its threatening notes.* The letters on India by the late Victor Jacquemont contain the following remarks on the almost incredible dexterity of these men. He says: " They crawl on the ground in the deepest ditches, in the furrows of the fields, and repair any false step they may make, or any accidental noise they may occasion, bv promptly imitating the cry of a jackal or some bird of prey, when a confederate will almost immediately respond by giving a similar note, as though from some animal in the distance ; they annoy the sleeper by various sounds, by different modes of touching him, and can always oblige their victim to assume the attitude and position best suited to their designs." M. le Comte Edward de Warren, in his admirable work on British India, which we shall have further occasion to quote, thus expresses himself:. " These men," observes he, " carry their address so far as to be able to deprive you of the very sheet on which you arc sleeping, without in the least disturbing your slumber ; and this is not intended figuratively, but as u literal fact. The ma- nagements of the HHEEL are those of a wily serpent. Should an individual be sleep- ing in bis tent, with a servant stretched outside each door conducting to it, the Bheel will crouch down in the shadow, and carefully listen to the respiration of all within and without the tent ; directly tho European sleeps, he is sure of his game ; he knows full well the Asiatic will not long resist the influence of the drowsy god. At the auspicious moment for his design, he softly cuts a round piece from the covering of the tent, sufficiently large to admit his body, which he slips through so stealthily and silently as not to disturb a single grain of sand. He is entirely naked, his body well 126 THE WANDERING JEW. CHAPTER XX. THE SMUGGLER. THE storm of the morning had long since ceased. The sun was declining, some hours having elapsed since the Strangler had introduced himself into the pavilion of Djalma, and tattooed him with the mysterious sign during his slumber. A cavalier was advancing rapidly in the midst of a long avenue bordered with thickly growing trees. Sheltered by this thick vault of verdure, a thousand birds hailed, by their warblings and their joyous twitterings, this glorious evening; green and red parrots climbed with beak and claws to the tops of the rare acacias ; the maina-mainon, a large bird with bright blue plumage, and with thin long necks and tails of burnished gold, pursued the lories, black like velvet, shaded with orange colour ; the turtle-doves of Kolo, of a rainbow violet colour, cooed loudly beside the birds of paradise, whose brilliant feathers united the prismatic tints of the emerald, ruby, topaz, and sapphire. This avenue, which was rising ground, terminated with a small lake, on whose surface, here and there, dipped the green shadows of the tamarind and the tatupa trees, whilst the water, calm and clear, shewed, as though incrusted in a mass of dark-blue crystal (so motion- less were they), silver fish, with fins of purple and gold ; fish with fins of scarlet, all immobile on the top of the lake, on which gleamed a dazzling sunbeam, which seemed to enjoy the light and warmth that were diffused amongst them ; a thousand insects, living jewels with \vings of fire, glided, dived, flew, and buzzed in this transparent mirror, which reflected, to a vast depth, the variegated shades of foliage and aquatic plants with which the banks were overgrown. It is impossible to depict the entire or part of this exuberance of nature, so luxuriant with colours, perfumes and sunlight, and serving, as we might say, for the frame to the picture of the youthful horseman at the end of the avenue. It was Djalma. He had not yet perceived that the Strangler had traced on his left arm certain ineffaceable marks. His Javanese steed, of moderate size, was full of fire and vigour, and black as midnight. A piece of scarlet cloth formed the saddle, oiled, and a small poignard suspended round his neck. Crouching down beside the bed, he, with a coolness and dexterity almost passing belief, begins folding the sheet on which the sleeper is extended, in h'ne folds close to the body lying on it ; then, passing to the other side of the couch, he commences a series of magnetic touches and light tickling, to avoid which the sleeper instinctively draws himself awav, and ulti- mately turns completely round, leaving the sheet nt the mercy of his enemy should he awake, and endeavour to seize the intruder, he grasps but a naked oiled body, which slips from his hold like an eel ; but if he unhappily succeed in holding him, then the dagger of the assassin is plunged in his heart, and while ho falls a corpse to the ground, his murderer escapes unobserved and undetected. THE SMUGGLER. 127 and, to restrain the impetuosity of his spirited mare, Djalma made use of a light bit of steel, whose reins of scarlet-twisted silk were light as a thread. None of those horsemen so admirably ensculptured on the frieze of the Parthenon is more gracefully and proudly mounted than was this young Indian, whose fine countenance, lighted up by the rays of the setting sun, was full of happiness and tranquillity. His eye sparkled with delight ; his nostrils were dilated ; his lips half opened, as he inspired with freedom the perfumed breeze of the flowers and scented shrubs, the more delicious as coming after the heavy rain which had succeeded the mid-day storm. A crimson cap, resembling the Greek head-dress, covered the black hair of Djalnm, and brought out the golden hue of his complexion. His neck was bare, and he was clad in his muslin caftan, with wide sleeves girdled by a scarlet band ; his drawers were full, and of white tissue, reaching just below the knees, leaving his rounded and polished legs half naked, whilst their graceful contour, quite a I'antique, was seen pressed against his horse's sides; those powerful limbs preserving his seat, as he had no stirrups j his small and narrow foot bearing a sandal of red morocco leather. The variation of his fancies, by turns impetuous and restrained, were exhibited in the paces which his horse displayed sometimes bold and rapid, as if his imagination had thrown away its reins and then calm and deliberate, as though reflection had succeeded to impetuosity. In this wayward course his erery movement was replete with a proud, independent, and wild grace. Djalma, dispossessed of his paternal territory by the English, and at first imprisoned after his father's death, who had been killed in battle (as M. Joshua Van Dae'l wrote from Batavia to M. Rodin), had been subsequently set at liberty. Then, leaving continental India, accompanied by General Simon, who had not quitted the environs of the prison which contained the son of his old friend the king Kadja-Sing, the young Indian came to Batavia, the place of his mother's birth, to obtain possession of the modest inheritance; of his maternal ancestors. In this inheritance, so long disdained or forgotten by his father, were found many important papers, and the medal resembling that worn by Rose and Blanche. General Simon, surprised as well as charmed at this discovery, which not only established a bond of relationship between his wife and the mother of Djalma, but seemed to hold out such great advantages to the latter hereafter, leaving Djalma at Batavia to conclude certain affairs of business, had gone to Sumatra, a neighbouring island, where he hoped to find a ship going straight and speedily to Europe ; for it was necessary, at all hazards, that the young Indian should be in. Paris on the 13th of February, 18J32. If he should find such a vessel, he was to return instantly to find Djalma, who was waiting his arrival daily, and was then going to the pier of Batavia in the hopes of seeing the father of Rose and Blanche arrive by the packet from Sumatra. A few words on the infancy and youth of the son of Kadja-Sing are necessary. 128 THE WANDERING JEW. Having lost his mother when he was very young, he was simply and rudely brought up, and as a child had accompanied his father to the great tiger-hunts, as dangerous as battles ; and, hardly a youth, he had followed his parent to the wars undertaken in defence of his territory, fierce and bloody as those wars were. Having thus lived, since his mother's death, in the depths of forests and his paternal mountains, where, in the midst of incessant combat, his vigorous and ingenuous nature had preserved itself pure and intact, never was the surname of Generous more fitly bestowed. Prince, he was really a prince a rare occurrence ; and, during the time of his captivity, he had won the favour of his English gaolers by his calm and uncomplaining dignity : no reproach, no lament, escaped his lips ; he maintained a proud, but not sullen demeanour, and never changed his mood until the moment when he was set free. Accustomed until then to a patriarchal existence, or a warrior in the mountain holds of his native land, which he had left only to pass a few months in prison, Djalma knew actually nothing of civilised life. But, without positively having defects, Djalma pushed the qualities of his mind to extremes; of an inflexible obstinacy as to his pledged word, devoted to death itself, blindly confiding, good to a perfect forgetfulness of self, he was inflexible towards any one who would prove himself an ingrate, liar, or a traitor he would have displayed summary justice towards perjury or disloyalty, because, had he himself been foresworn or treacherous, he would have deemed his life the just forfeit. He was, in a word, a man whose feelings were uncompromising and in full integrity. Such an one, opposed to the arrangements, cal- culations, falsenesses, deceits, tricks, restrictions, and hypocrisy of very refined society that of Paris, for instance would have been a perfect study for a philosopher. We advance this hypothesis, because, since his journey from Java to France had been decided on, Djalma had but one fixed, constant, and concentrated thought to be at Paris. At Paris, that fairy city, of which, even in Asia, that fairy land was discoursed of in such glowing terms. What especially inflamed the young and heated imagination of the young Indian was the French women the Parisiennes so lovely, so winning such marvels of elegance, grace, and fascination, who eclipsed (as the Asiatics said) the magnificence of the capital of the civilised world. At this moment, during this splendid and glowing evening, sur- rounded by flowers and delicious perfumes, Djalma was thinking of those enchanting creatures whom his fancy clothed in his own brightest hues. He seemed to see at the end of the avenue, in the midst of the sheet of golden light, which the trees encased in their frame of tufted verdure, lovely and entrancing forms, graceful and captivating figures, who smiled upon him, and sent kisses to him from the tops of their rosy fingers ! No longer able to contain himself, and carried away by the heat of his imagination at features so lovely, Djalma uttered a deep and MAHAL AND DJALMA. London : Chapman ami Hall. June I. I-.4.'. THE SMUGGLER. '2 almost savage note of joy ; and, at the same moment, his beautiful steed bounded in the air, as though participating in his ecstasy. A piercing sun-ray darted at this moment through the sombre vault of the alley, and lighted it all up. For some minutes a man had been advancing quickly along a path which, at its extremity, cut diagonally the avenue in which Djalma was. The man stopped for a moment in the shade, contemplating Djalma with astonishment. It was indeed charming to see, in the midst of this radiant glow of light, a young man so handsome, so full of fire, so joyous, with his white and flowing raiment, so gracefully seated on his proud black steed, who covered with foam his red bridle, and whose long tail and thick mane flowed in the evening wind. But, by a contrast which follows all human desires, Djalma soon felt the return of an indefinable and subduing melancholy, and, lifting his hand to his moist and downcast eyes, let fall his reins on the neck of the fine-tempered animal that bore him. The horse stopped instantly, stretched out his swan-like neck, and turned his head half towards the individual whom he saw in the path. This man was called Mahal the Smuggler, and he was dressed like an European sailor, with a jacket and trousers of white linen, a wide red girdle, and a straw hat, very wide in the brim ; his countenance was tanned and strongly marked, but, although he was forty years old, he was entirely beardless. " What seek you ? " said the Indian. " You are the son of Kadja-Sing ? " " Again I say, what seek you ?" " The friend of General Simon." " General Simon ! " exclaimed Djalma. " You were going to meet him, as you do every evening since you expected him from Sumatra ? " " Yes ; but how know you that ? " said the Indian, looking at the smuggler with surprise and curiosity. " He ought to reach Batavia to-day or to-morrow." " Do you come from him ? " " Perchance I may," said Mahal, with a distrustful air. " But are you really the son of Kadja-Sing ? " " I am, I tell you. But when did you sec General Simon ? " " If you are the son of Kadja-Sing," replied Mahal, still looking at Djalma with a suspicious eye, " what is your surname ? " " They called my father ' The Father of the Generous,'" replied the young Indian ; and a shade of sadness stole over his handsome features. These words appeared to begin to convince Mahal of the identity of Djalma ; however, as he was anxious to be well assured, he replied, " You should have received, two days ago, a letter from General Simon, written from Sumatra ? " " I did ; but why those questions ? " " That I may be quite certain that you are the son of Kadja-Sing* and then I will execute the orders I have received," " From whom ? " " From General Simon." " But where is he ? " 9 K 130 THE WANDERING JEW. " When I am certain that you are the Prince Djalma, I will tell you. I was informed that you would be mounted on a black horse with red housings ; but " " By my mother's shade ! will you speak ? " " I will say ever,y thing, if you tell me what printed paper there was inclosed in the last letter which General Simon sent you from Sumatra?" " It was an extract from a French newspaper." " And did it announce good or bad news for the general ?" " Good news ; for it stated that, during his absence, the title and rank which the emperor had last conferred upon him had been recog- nised and confirmed, and that the same recognition had taken place with respect to all his brothers in arms exiled as well as himself." " Now I am sure you are the Prince Djalma," said the smuggler, after a moment's reflection ; " and I will tell you all. General Simon landed last night at Java, but in a desert spot on the other side." " In a desert spot ? " " That he might be concealed." " He," exclaimed Djalma, in great surprise, "conceal himself 1 and why ? " " I do not know." " But where is he ? " said Djalma, with increased anxiety. " Three leagues off, on the sea-shore, in the ruins of Tchandi." " He forced to conceal himself ! " repeated Djalma, whose coun- tenance was expressive of deep alarm and anxiety. " I am not sure, but I think he was engaged in some duel in Su- matra," said the smuggler, with an air of mystery. " A duel ! and with whom ? " " I do not know. I am not at all sure about it. But you know the ruins of Tchandi ? " " I do." " Well, the general awaits you there, and desired me to bring you word." " You then have come from Sumatra with him ? " " I was the pilot of the little smuggling coaster from which he landed last night on the lone shore. He knew that you came every day to look for him on the road to the Mole, and I was sure to meet with you. He gave me the particulars about the last letter you received from him, and which I have mentioned to you that you might know I came from him ; if he could have written to you, he would have done so." " And he did not say why he was obliged to conceal himself?" " Not a word to me. But, from something that fell, I suspect, as I told you, that there was a duel." Knowing the quick temper and high courage of General Simon, Djalma thought the suspicions of the smuggler were very probable. After a moment's silence he said to him, " Can you lead my horse back for me ? My house is outside the city down there hidden by the trees, near the new mosque. My horse would be an obstacle in going up the mountain of Tchandi ; I would reach it quicker on foot." " I know very well where you live, for General Simon told me, and I should have gone on to you had we not met here. Give me your horse." M. JOSHUA VAN DAEL. P. 131. I..-U.I..M. Chapman ami Hall. March I, IH4'< M. JOSHUA VAN DAEL. 131 Djalma leaped lightly down, threw the bridle to Mahal, unrolled one end of his girdle, and taking out a small silk purse gave it to the smuggler, saying, " You are faithful and obedient there, it is not much, but I have no more." " Kadja-Sing was well named ' The Father of the Generous? " said the smuggler, bowing respectfully and gratefully ; and he took the route which led to Batavia, leading Djalma's courser by his bridle. The young Indian turned down the path, and, walking with great speed, bent his steps towards the mountains where the ruins of Tchandi were, but which he could not reach before night. CHAPTER XXI. M. JOSHUA VAN DAEL. M. JOSHUA VAN DAEL, a Dutch merchant, correspondent of M. Ro- din, was born at Batavia (capital of the island of Java). His parents had sent him to be educated at Pondicherry, in a celebrated religious house long established in that city, and belonging to the Society of Jesus. He was then affiliated to the community as a. professed of three rows, or lay member, commonly styled temporal coadjutor. M. Joshua was a man whose probity was considered perfect ; he was extremely exact and punctilious in all matters ; cold, discreet, im- penetrable, and of singular skill and sagacity. His financial operations were almost. always successful, for a protecting power gave him, from time to time, a knowledge of events which had the control of vast com- mercial transactions. The religious house of Pondicherry was inte- rested in his business, and entrusted to him the exportation and exchange of the produce of many extensive estates which it possessed in this colony. Speaking seldom, listening always, never discussing, exceedingly affable, giving little, but with care and discretion, M. Joshua inspired, in the absence of sympathy, that cold respect which men of his cha- racter usually inspire. Instead of yielding to the influence of colonial manners, so often libertine and dissolute, he appeared to live with great regularity, and his exterior presented an austere appearance, which imposed on the world at large. The following scene was passing in Batavia whilst Djalma was on his way to the ruins of Tchandi, in the hope of meeting General Simon there. M. Joshua had just entered his private closet, where were rows of shelves piled with memorandum-cases and large ledgers, and cash- books open on the desks. The only window of this closet, situated on the ground-floor, looked on a small empty court-yard, and was protected from without by thick iron bars, whilst a movable blind was substituted for panes of glass, in consequence of the great heat of the climate of Java. 132 THE WANDERING JEW. Joshua, having placed on his desk a wax-light enclosed in a glass shade, looked at the clock. " Half-past nine o'clock," said lie ; " Mahal will soon be here." So saying, he went out, crossed an antechamber, and, opening a second thick door, strengthened with large-headed nails, he entered the little court-yard with much precaution, that he might not be heard by the people of his establishment, and then drew back the secret bolt which fastened a folding-door with a large bar six feet long, and defended by plates of iron. Leaving this open he returned to his cabinet, after having succes- sively and carefully closed after him all the other doors. Joshua then seated himself at his desk, and took from a drawer a long letter, or rather memoir, begun some time back, and written day by day. (It is unnecessary to say that this letter, addressed to M. Rodin, at Paris, in the Rue du Milieu-des-Ursins, was anterior to the liberation of Djalma and his arrival at Batavia.) The memoir in question was also addressed to M. Rodin, and thus did M. Joshua continue it : " Fearing the return of General Simon, about whom I had been instructed by intercepting his letters (I have already said that I had contrived to have myself appointed as his agent and correspondent) letters which I read, and then forwarded, apparently untouched, to Djalma, I have been compelled, by time and the pressure of circum- stances, to have recourse to extreme means, at the same time that I have altogether preserved appearances, and rendered signal service to humanity : this latter reason especially decided me. " A new danger, moreover, imperiously ruled my conduct. The steam-boat, The Ruyter, reached here yesterday, and sails to-morrow. " This vessel goes to Europe by the Arabian Gulf; her passengers disembark at the Isthmus of Suez, which they cross, and at Alexan- dria they take another vessel, which conveys them to France. " This journey, as rapid as it is direct, only occupies seven or eight weeks : this is the end of October, and Prince Djalma might, therefore, reach France about the beginning of the month of January ; and after your instructions (the cause of which I am ignorant of, but which I execute with zeal and submission) it was requisite, at all hazards, to prevent his departure ; as you told me one of the gravest interests of our society would be thereby compromised by the arrival of this young Indian at Paris before the 13th of February. If I suc- ceed, as I hope and believe, in making him miss the Ruyter, it will be absolutely impossible that he can reach France before the month of April, for the Ruytcr is the only vessel which makes this quick and direct route, all the other ships being from four to five months in reaching Europe. " Before I tell you the means I have been forced to use to retain Prince Djalraa here means, of which at this moment I do not know the result, good or bad, I should tell you a few facts. " There has been discovered, in Anglo-India, a community whose members called themselves Brothers of the Good Work, or Phansegars, which simply means Stranglers ; these murderers do not shed blood they strangle their victims, less to rob them than to obey a homicidal vocation and the laws of an infernal deity, called by them Bohwanie. M. JOSEPH VAN DAEL. 133 " I cannot give yftu a better idea of this horrible sect than by transcribing a tew lines of the introduction to Colonel Sleeman's report, who has tracked and followed up this murderous confrater- nity with indefatigable zeal. The report was published two months ago : this is the extract, and the colonel himself speaks : " ' From 1822 to 1824, when I was charged with the magistracy and civil administration of the district ofNcrsi ngpour, there was not a murder, or the smallest theft by a common bandit, but I was instantly informed of it. And if any one had come and told me, at this time, that a band of assassins, by profession and inheritance, lived in the village of Kunddia, about four miles at most from my court of justice ; that the lovely groves of the village oj Mundesoor, a days march from my residence, was one of the most fearful centres of assassination in all India ; that vast bands of ' the Brothers of the Good IVorh,' coming from Indostan and the Dehan, annually met in these thickets, as at a solemn festival, to carry on their infernal calling on every road and bye-path which crossed this locality, I should have taken my informant for a madman, who had been alarmed at some silly invention : yet nothing was more true, for travellers by hundreds were every year interred in the groves of Mun- desoor : a whole tribe of assassins lived at my very door whilst I teas .supreme magistrate of the province, and extended their butcheries to the cities of Poonah and Hyderabad ! " ' / shall never forget that, to convince me, one of the Strangler chiefs, who had denounced his associates, exhumed, from the very spot on which I had pitched my tent, thirteen carcasses, and offered to dig up from the soil all around an unlimited number. 1 * " These few lines from Colonel Sleeman's report will give you some idea of this terrible society, whose laws, duties, and customs, are wholly at variance with all laws, human and divine. Devoted to one another, even to heroism, blindly subservient to their chiefs, who style themselves the immediate representatives of their dark divinity, considering as foes all who are not united with them, adding to their numbers in all quarters by a fearful system of proselytism, these apostles of a religion of murder go about preaching in secresy their abominable doctrines, and inclosing India in a vast net. " Three of their principal chiefs and one of their adepts, flying from the hot pursuit of the English governor, which they contrived to elude, had reached the northern point of India at the Straits of Malacca, which is but a short distance from Java. A smuggler and pirate, affiliated with them and named Mahal, took them on board his coasting bark, and conveyed them hither, where, for some time, they believed themselves in safety, for, according to the smuggler's advice, they took refuge in a thick forest, in which are several ruined temples, whose numerous caverns afford them a shelter. " Amongst these chiefs, all three of remarkable intelligence, is one particularly, Faringhea by name, who is a man of extraordinary energy, and of qualities so superior as to make him a man to be feared. He is a Metis, that is, the son of a white father and Indian mother. He has dwelt long in cities where Europeans have con- * This extract is from the excellent work of M. le'Comte Edward de Warren on British India, in 134 THE WANDERING JEW. ducted business, and speaks English and Frencft very well ; the other two chiefs are a Negro and an Indian : the adept is a Malay. " Mahal, the smuggler, thinking that he might obtain a good re- ward by betraying these three chiefs and their disciple, came to me, knowing, as all the world knows, my extreme intimacy with a person who is most influential with our governor, and offered, two days since, on certain conditions, to deliver up the Negro, the Me"tis, the In- dian, and the Malay. His conditions were, a considerable sum of money, and the guarantee of a passage on board some ship going to Europe or America, in order to escape from the implacable vengeance of the Stranglers. " I instantly seized on this opportunity of delivering up to human justice these three murderers, and I promised Mahal that I would in- tercede for him with the governor, on certain conditions on my side, very innocent in themselves, but concerning Djalma. I will tell you iny project at length if it be successful, which I shall soon know, as I expect Mahal here almost immediately. " Waiting until I close my despatches, which will go to-morrow for Europe by the Ruyter, on board of which I shall pay for Mahafs passage, if he is successful, I will advert to another subject which is very important. " In my last letter, in which I told you of the death of Djalma's father and the young man's imprisonment by the English, I requested information as to the solvency of the Baron Tripeaud, a banker and manufacturer at Paris, who has a branch-establishment at Calcutta. Now this information is no longer requisite to me if what I learn is unfortunately true, and, in that case, you will act accordingly. " His house at Calcutta owes us, t. e. to me and our college at Pondicherry, very large sums of money, and I am informed that M. Tripeaud's affairs are in a most embarrassed and ruinous condition. Desirous of establishing a concern which should ruin, by its unrelent- ing rivalry, an immense business, long since commenced by M. Francois Hardy, a most extensive manufacturer, I learn that M. Tri- peaud has already sunk vast capital in his undertaking, and lost it all. He has, no doubt, done M. Hardy considerable harm, but, at the same time, he has greatly injured his own property, and if he fails, his disaster will be greatly detrimental to us, as he owes us and our clients very considerable sums of money. "In this state of things it would be very desirable that all possible means in our power should be employed and directed to shake and in- jure the credit of the house of Francois Hardy, already hurt by the fierce opposition of M. Tripeaud. If this combination could be made to operate, M. Tripeaud might, in a short time, recover all he has lost, assure the ruin of his rival, which would be his own making, and our debts would thus be paid. " No doubt it would be most painful deeply grievous, to be com- pelled to resort to such an extremity to recover our monies ; but, in these days, are we not authorised to use means which are incessantly employed against us ? If we are driven to this by the injustice and wickedness of men, we must resign ourselves to the distressing task by the reflection, that if we strive to recover and preserve our earthly M. JOSEPH VAN OAEL. 135 possessions, it is all for the greater glory of God, whilst, in the hands of our enemies, these goods are but dangerous means to perdition and scandal. " This is but a proposal, which I humbly submit to you ; if I had the power in my own hands of taking the initiative on the subject of these credits, I should do nothing of myself my will is not my own ; with all I possess it belongs to those to whom I have sworn a blind obedience." A slight noise without interrupted M. Joshua Van Dae'l, and at- tracted his attention. He rose quickly, and went to the window. Three gentle taps were struck from without on one of the blinds. " Is it you, Mahal?" inquired Joshua, in a subdued voice. " It is," was the reply from without, and in a suppressed tone. "And the Malay?"" " Has succeeded." " Really ? " exclaimed M. Joshua, in a tone of deep satisfaction, " are you sure ? " " Quite sure. There never was devil more skilful and more daring." "And Djalma?" " The passages from General Simon's last letter, which I quoted to him, convinced him that I came from the general, and that he would find him at the ruins of Tchandi." " So, then, at this moment " " Djalma is at the ruins, where he will find the Black, the M6tis, and the Indian. They appointed the spot as a rendezvous for the Malay after he had tattooed the prince during his sleep." " Have you reconnoitred the subterranean passage?" " I went yesterday. One of the stones of the pedestal of the statue turns on a pivot ; the staircase is wide, and will do very well." " And the three chiefs have no suspicion of you ?" " None. I saw them this morning, and this evening the Malay came and told me all before he went to rejoin them in the ruins of Tchandi ; for he was obliged to remain concealed in the bushes, not daring to venture during the daylight." " Mahal, if you have told me the truth, if all succeeds, your par- don and a handsome reward will be yours. Your place is bespoke on board the Ruyter ; you will go to-morrow, and thus be out of reach of the Stranglers' revenge, who would else pursue you to death to avenge their chiefs. Since Providence has selected you to deliver these three great criminals to justice, God will bless you. Go now and await me at the governor's gate ; I will introduce you to his excel- lency, for such important matters are now concerned, that I shall not hesitate to go and awaken him, although it is midnight. Go quickly, and I will follow." There were then heard the rapid steps of Mahal, as he precipi- tately departed, and all was silent. Joshua returned to his desk, and added these words hastily to his long memoir. " Whatever happens, it is now impossible that Djalma can quit 106 THK WANDERING JEW. Batavia. Be assured that he will not be in Paris on the thirteenth of February next year. " As I foresaw, I shall be on foot all night. I am now going to the governor. To-morrow I will add a few words to this long me- moir, which the steam-boat, the Ruyter will convey to Europe." After having closed his secretaire, Joshua rang his bell loudly, and, to the great surprise of his establishment at seeing him go out so late at night, went away with a rapid pace to the governor of the island. We now conduct our reader to the ruins of Tchandi. CHAPTER XXII. THE RUINS OP TCHANDI. THE storm in the middle of the day that storm, whose influences had so well served the design of the Strangler on Djalma, was suc- ceeded by a calm and serene night. The moon's disc rose softly behind a mass of striking ruins, situated on a hill, in the midst of a thick wood, three leagues from Batavia. Large rows of stones, high brick walls mutilated by the tooth of time, vast porticoes covered with parasitical vegetation, were seen in the clear horizon, in the silvery light which was shed copiously from the blue vault of heaven. Several rays of moonshine, stealing through the opening of one of the porticoes, fell on two colossal statues placed at the foot of an immense staircase, whose disjointed flag-stones were almost entirely concealed beneath the rank grass, moss, and underwood. The remains of one of these statues, broken in the middle, were scattered on the ground ; the other, which was still upright, was frightful to look at. It represented a man of gigantic proportions, with a head three feet in height, the expression of whose countenance was ferocious in the extreme, and two eyes of black and shining schistus were inlaid in its stone-grey face ; the mouth large, wide, and opened to its utmost stretch, had become the nest of reptiles, a swarm of whom might be seen crawling in and out of the lips most disgustingly. A wide girdle, ornamented with symbols, encircled the waist of this statue, and supported the long sword which hung by its side. The giant had four extended arms, and in his four massive outspread hands he supported an elephant's head, a coiled snake, a human skull, and a bird resembling a heron. The moon, which lighted this statue on one side, spread a full light over the profile, which added to the singular fierceness of the countenance. Here and there, inserted in the midst of the brick walls, half de- stroyed, were fragments of bas-relief, also a stone very boldly carved ; THE STaANOLEK CHIEFS. f. l7. Lnnilun: Ch.iinr.aii .in. I Mall. July I, Is4;< THE RUINS OF TCHANDI. 137 one of these, in the best state of preservation, represented a man with an elephant's head, with wings like a bat, and devouring a child. Nothing could be more repulsive than these ruins, encompassed by thickets of trees of a dark green, covered with mystic emblems, and seen by the moon's pale light in the profound silence of night. In the angle of one of the walls of this ancient temple, dedicated to some mysterious and bloody Javanese deity, was erected a hut, clum- sily constructed of fragments of brick and stone ; the door, made of the bulrush stalks, was open, and there issued from it a reddish light, which cast its warm glare on the tall weeds with which the earth was covered. Three men were in this hovel, lighted by a clay lamp, in which burnt a wick made of the cocoa-tree fibre and fed with palm-oil. One of these individuals, a man about forty years of age, was dressed in shabby European attire; his pale and almost white com- plexion proving that he was of Mulatto race ; that is, the child of a white man and an Indian mother. The second was a robust African Negro, with blubber-lips, mus- cular shoulders, and spindle legs ; his frizzly hair was becoming grey, and, covered with tatters, he was standing upright near the Indian. A third person was asleep on a mat in the corner of this lair. These three men were the three chiefs of the Stranglers who, pur- sued in continental India, had sought refuge in Java under the guid- ance of the smuggler Mahal. " The Malay does not return," said the Mulatto, whose name was Faringhea, the most redoubtable of this homicidal sect ; " he may have been slain by Djalma in executing our orders." " The morning's storm has brought the reptiles out of their holes in swarms," said the Negro ; " perhaps the Malay has been bitten, and his carcass may now be only a serpent's nest." " To advance the good work" said Faringhea, with a sombre air, " death in all shapes must be braved." " And inflicted," added the Negro. A stifled cry, followed by several inarticulate words, attracted the attention of the two chiefs, who turned quickly towards the sleeping man. He was about thirty years of age, and his beardless chin and copper-coloured skin, his dress of coarse stun", his small variegated turban of yellow and brown, evinced that he belonged to the pure Hindoo race. His sleep was agitated by some painful dream, abun- dant perspiration covered his features, contracted by terror he uttered words, and his voice was stifled and moaning, whilst his frame shook with convulsive agitation. " Always this dream ! " said Faringhea to the Negro ; " always the remembrance of tliat man ! " " What man ? " " Don't you recollect, five years ago, that savage, Colonel Kennedy the Indians' executioner who came on the banks of the Ganges to hunt the tiger, with twenty horses, four elephants, and fifty at- tendants ? " " Yes, yes ! " said the Negro ; " and we three, men-hunters, we had better sport thun he had,. Kennedy, with his horses, elephants. 138 THE WANDERING JEW. and large train, did not catch his tiger ; but we, we had ours," he added, with fierce irony. " Yes, Kennedy, that tiger with a human face, fell into our ambush, and the 'Brothers of the Good Work' offered up their glorious prize to their goddess Bohwanie !" " If you remember, it was at the moment when we had encircled Kennedy's neck with the last twist of our cord, that we suddenly saw this traveller he had beheld us, and we were compelled to make away with him. Since that," added Faringhea, " the recollection of the murder of that man follows him" (pointing to the sleeping Hindoo) "even in his dreama." " As well as when he is awake," said the Negro, looking signifi- cantly at Faringhea. " Hark ! " said the latter, looking towards the Indian, who, in the agitation of his dream, began speaking again in muttering and broken tones. " Hark ! he is repeating the replies of that traveller when we told him he must die, or join us in the good work. His mind was un- settled by it decidedly affected ! " At this moment he uttered in his sleep a sort of mysterious inter- rogatory, in which, by turns, he gave the questions and replies. " Traveller," he said, in a voice broken by occasional abrupt pauses, " why hast thou that black circle on thy brow ? It extends from one temple to the other it is a fatal brand ; thy look is as sad as death itself. Hast thou been a victim? Come with us Bohwanie avenges the injured. Thou hast suffered? Yes, suffered deeply! For a long time? Yes, for a very long time! Thou still sufferest? For ever ! What wouldst thou bestow on him who hath so done to thee? Pity! Will thou return blow for blow? / would return love for hatred! Who art thou, then, that wouldst return good for evil? / am he w/io loves, suffers, and forgives" " Dost hear him, brother ? " said the Negro to Faringhea ; " he has not forgotten the words of the traveller before his death." " The vision follows him still. Listen he speaks again. How ghastly he looks ! " The Indian, still under the influence of his dream, continued thus : " Traveller, there are three of us : we are fearless, and have death in our hands ; thou hast seen us already make a sacrifice to the good work ; join us or die die die ! Oh, what a look !- Not so do not look at me so " As he uttered these words the Hindoo made a sudden motion, as if to drive away an object that approached him, and awoke with a start. He passed his hand over his forehead, which was reeking with perspiration, and looked wildly around him. " Brother, always this dream !" said Faringhea to him : " for a hardy hunter of men, thy head is weak. Fortunately thine heart and thine arm are strong." The Indian did not reply for some moments, but hid his face in his hands. After a pause he said, " For a long while I have not dreamed of this traveller." " Is he not dead ? " said Faringhea, shrugging his shoulders. " Didst not thou thyself cast the cord around his neck ? " " I did ! " said the Indian, shuddering. THE RUINS 0V TCHANDI. 139 " Did we not dig his grave close to that of Colonel Kennedy ? Did we not bury him as we did the English butcher, under the sand and bulrushes ? " asked the Negro. " Yes, we dug his grave," said the Indian, deeply agitated ; " and yet it is now a year ago that I was at Bombay, when, one evening, as I was awaiting one of our brethren, at sun-down, near the pagoda which is at the side of the little hill whilst I was looking at the view before me, seated under a fig-tree, I heard a gentle, slow, and firm footstep ; I turned my head .'twas he, leaving the city." " A dream ! " said the Negro. " Nothing but a dream ! " " Yes, a vision," added Faringhea ; "or some singular resemblance." " I knew him at once by the black half-circle which shrouds his brow 'twas he ! 'twas he f I remained motionless with fear my eyes starting out of my head. He stopped, and cast on me his mild and melancholy glance : in spite of myself I exclaimed Tis he ! " " ' ft is I," he replied, with his gentle voice ; ' and all those you have slain will rise again as I have done' Then he pointed towards the sky, and continued, ' WJiy slay ? Hearken ! I came from Java, I am going to the other end of the globe, to a country of eternal snows ; there or here, whether on a flaming soil or an icy land, yet I shall be for eternity. Thus will it be with the souls of all who fall under thy deadly cord, either in this world or the other; in this earthly form, or in some other, the SOUL will always be a SOUL thou canst not extinguish THAT. Then, wherefore slay?' And then, shaking his head sorrowfully, he went on his way, always walking slowly, with his forehead bowed. He ascended the hill of the pagoda, and I followed him with my eyes without stirring from the spot. As the sun set, he paused on the sum- mit, his tall figure was marked against the sky, and then he disap- peared. Oh, 'twas he ! " said the Indian, trembling violently as he spoke; and then again, after a long pause, " Yes, 'twas he!" This recital of the Indian had never varied, and he had frequently narrated this mysterious adventure- to his comrades. This pertinacity on his part shook their incredulity, or rather made them endeavour to find some natural solution for an event which appeared supernatural. " Perhaps," said Faringhea, after some reflection, " the knot which choked the traveller was not so tight as actually to cause death, and a breath of life might remain in him ; the air may have penetrated the rushes with which we covered his grave, and so he returned to life." " No, no ! " said the Indian, shaking his head ; " this man was not of our race " " What mean you ?" " Now I am sure " " Sure of what?" " Listen ! " said the Hindoo, in a solemn voice. " The number of victims that the children of Bohwanie have sacrificed since the begin- ning of ages, is nothing to the immensity of dead and dying that this terrible traveller leaves behind him in his march of destruction." " He ! " exclaimed the Negro and Faringhea. " He ! " replied the Indian, with an accent of conviction which struck home to his companions. " Hearken and tremble ! When I 140 THE WANDERING JEW. met this traveller at the gates of Bombay, lie had come from Java, and was going towards the north, as he said. The next day Bombay was ravaged by the Cholera ; and, some time afterwards, we learnt that this, scourge had burst forth here at Java." " That is true," said the Negro. " Listen to me," resumed the Hindoo. " ' I am going towards the north to a country of eternal snow,' said the traveller to me ; and has not the Cholera also gone northward, passing Mascata, Ispahan, Tauris, Teflis, and reached Siberia ? " " True," replied Faringhea, thoughtfully. " And the Cholera," resumed the Indian, " only proceeded at the extent of five or six leagues a-day a man's journey. It never appeared in two places at once, but progressed slowly, equally, always at the pace of a man's daily travel." At this singular comparison, the two comrades of the Hindoo looked at each other in great amaze. After some minutes' silence, the affrighted Negro said to the Indian : " And you believe that this man " " I believe that this man, whom we killed, restored to life by some infernal divinity, has been empowered to spread this terrible scourge over the earth, and to spread death wheresoever he may wander, though he himself cannot be affected by it. Remember," added the Indian, with gloomy emphasis " remember, this terrible traveller has passed by Java the Cholera has devastated Java ; this traveller has passed by Bombay the Cholera has devastated Bombay ; this traveller has gone northward the Cholera lias devastated the north " And the Indian, pausing, fell into a deep reverie. The Negro and Faringhea were overcome by deep astonishment. The Indian was right as to the mysterious progress (wholly inexpli- cable) of this fearful scourge, which, as we know, did not spread more than five or six leagues a-day, and never appeared simultaneously in two places at once. Nothing can be more striking than to follow, on a map marked for that purpose, and correctly, the steady advance of this progressive scourge, which presents to the astonished eye all the caprices, and all the incidents, of the march of a wayward traveller. Going here in preference to there ; choosing certain districts in a country and certain cities in those districts, certain quarters in those cities, certain streets in those quarters, certain houses in those streets ; having even its places of rest and cessation, and then resuming its gradual, mysterious, and terrible progress. The words of the Indian which described these fearful wantonings made, necessarily, a deep impression on the Negro and Faringhea, fierce as were their dispositions, and directed by revolting doctrines to the monomania of murder. It is an undenied and undeniable fact, that there are in India sects of this abominable community, creatures who, almost always, commit their murders without motive or excitement, who kill for murder's sake for the pleasure of slaying for the sake of substituting death for life to make a live being a dead corpse, as they have de- clared in answer to questions put to them. THE RUINS OF TCHANDI. 141 Thought is lost in the attempt to penetrate to the cause of such monstrous phenomena. By what incredible series of events have men become vowed to such a priesthood of Death ? Doubtless, such a religion cannot flourish but in countries de- voted, like India, to the most atrocious system of slavery to the most pitiless experiments of man on his fellow-man. Such a religion must be the outbreak of the hatred of humanity exasperated, beyond endurance, by the oppression of selfish power. Perhaps, too, this homicidal sect, whose origin is lost in the night of ages, is perpetuated in these regions as the only possible protest of slavery against despotism. Perhaps, indeed, the Almighty, in His impenetrable designs, has created the Phansegars as he has created tigers and serpents. It is very remarkable, in this repulsive community, that a mys- terious link unites all the members together, and isolates them from their fellow-men ; for they have laws of their own, customs of their own ; they devote themselves to each other, sustain and aid each other, but they have neither country nor family, they spring, then, them- selves, only in conformity to a dark and mysterious power, whose be- hests they blindly obey, and in whose name they wander abroad and " make corpses" to use one of their own ferocious expressions.* * We append some extracts from the very curious book of M. le Comte de Warren on British lodia in 1831 : " Beside the robbers who kill for the snke of the booty which they trust to find on travellers, there is a class of assassins, organised into a society, with chiefs, a service, a free-masonry, and even a religion, which has its fanaticism and its devo- tion, its agents, its emissaries, its assistants, its moving bodies, its passive comrades, who contribute by their subscriptions to " the good work." It is the community of Thugs, Phansegars (cheats or stranglers, from thugna, to cheat, and phasna, to strangle), a religious and working confraternity, who war against the human race by exterminating them, and whoso origin is lost in the night of ages. " Up to 1810 their existence was not only unknown to their European conquer- ors, but even to their native governments. Between the years 1816 and 1830, many bands were taken in the fact and punished, but up to the latter period all the revelations made on this subject by officers of high experience seemed too monstrous to obtain public attention and belief, and had been refused credence, as the dreams of a wild imagination. Yet for very many years, at least for half a century, this social plague-spot had consumed immense populations, from the foot of the Himalaya to Cape Comorin, from Cutch to Assam. " It wa* in the year 1830 that the confessions of a celebrated chief, whoso life was spared on condition that he should denounce his accomplices, unfolded the whole system. The foundation of the Thuggee confraternity is a religious belief, the worship of Bohwanie, a dark divinity, who loves nothing but carnage, and hates es- pecially the human race. Her most acceptable sacrifices are human victims, and the more of these are offered up in this world, the more will you be recompensed in the next by joys of the soul and the senses, and by females, always young, fresh, and lovely. If the assassin should meet with the scaffold in his career, he dies with en. thusiasm, a martyr whom a palm awaits. To obey his divine mistress, he murders, without anger and without remorse, the old man, the woman, and the child. To his colleagues he must be charitable, humane, generous, devoted, sharing all in common, because they, as well as he, are ministers and adopted children of Bohwanie. " The destruction of fellow-creatures who do not belong to the same community, and the diminution of the human species, is the object they pursue. It is not a road to fortune, for the booty is but a secondary consideration a corollary very agreeable, no doubt, but only secondary in estimation. Destruction is the great aim and end the heavenly mission, the absorbing vocation. It is a delicious gratifica- tion ; the hunting down of men is the most intoxicating sport in the world. ' You find great pleasure,' was said by one of theso criminals, ' in pursuing the wild beast 142 THE WANDERING JEW. For some moments the three Stranglers preserved a profound silence. Outside the hovel the moon was shedding her large and silvered rays and vast blue shadows on the striking mass of ruins. The stars shone brilliantly, and, from time to time, the fitful breeze shook the clustering and bright leaves of the bananas and palm-trees. The pedestal of the gigantic statue, which was preserved entire, and was at the left of the portico, rested on large slabs, half-concealed under thick and rank weeds. Suddenly one of these slabs appeared to give way. From the opening, which was effected noiselessly, a man, clothed in uniform, looked out and carefully reconnoitred about him, listening with much attention. Seeing the light of the lamp which lighted up the interior of the hut glimmer in the tall herbage, he withdrew, made a signal, and then he and two other soldiers climbed, with the greatest precaution and silence, up the lower steps of this subterranean staircase, and moved stealthily across the ruins. For some moments their moving shadows were thrown on the ground by the moonbeams, and then they disappeared behind several pieces of the fallen walls. At the moment when the thick slab resumed its place and level, heads of several other soldiers were visible in the concealment of this excavation. The Mulatto, the Indian, and the Negro, plunged still in deep thought, saw nothing of this. CHAPTER XXIII. THE AMBUSCADE. THE Mulatto Faringhea, no doubt desirous of diverting the pain- ful thoughts which the language of the Indian on the mysterious pro- gress of the Cholera had excited, suddenly changed the conversation. His eye shone with a wild glare, and his countenance assumed a look of fierce enthusiasm, as he exclaimed, ' Bohwanie will always watch over us, fearless hunters of men. to its lair, in attacking the wild boar and tiger, because there are dangers to fare, en- ergy and courage to display. Only think, then, how that fascination must be re- doubled when the struggle is with men, when it is men whom you destroy ! Instead of the exercise of one only faculty, courage, you have at once to evince courage, cun- ning, foresight, eloquence, diplomacy. How many springs to move! how many strings to touch ! To play with all the passions, to cause vibration on the chords ol love and friendship to lead your prey into your nets ; it is a glorious chase, it is sublime enrapturing, I say !' " Whoever was in India, in the years 1831 and 1833, will remember the stupor and affright caused by the discovery of this vast infernal machinery spread through- out society. A great number of magistrates of the provinces refused to believe it, and could not comprehend how a system so vast bad for so long a time absorbed tie social body under their eyes, silently and without betraying itself." British India in 1831, by M. Edward de Warren, 2 vols. 8vo. Paris, 1844. THE AMBUSCADE. 143 Courage, brothers, courage ! the world is wide and our prey is every where. The English force us to leave India we, the three chiefs of the good work ! What matters that ? We leave behind us brethren, as well concealed, as numerous, as terrible, as the black scorpions, which only betray their presence by their deadly bite ! Exile but widens our range, our domains I Brother, to thee is America ! " said the chief to the Hindoo, with an air of inspiration ; " Brother, to thee is Africa!" he said to the Negro; "Brothers, to me is Europe! Wherever there are men, there arc executioners and victims wher- ever there are victims there are hearts filled with hatred ; be it our task to influence those hatreds with all the fiercest longings after vengeance ! It is reserved for us, by dint of stratagems and seductions, to draw around us, servants of Bohwanie, all whose zeal, courage, and boldness, can be useful to us. Amongst ourselves, and for ourselves, let us rival each other in devotion, in self-denial. Let us lend each other force, help, and support. Let all who are not with us be our prey. Let us isolate ourselves in the midst of all, against all, in spite of all. For us let there be no country, no family ! our family is our brethren ; our country, the universe ! " This savage eloquence deeply impressed the Negro and the Hin- doo, who were usually under the influence of Faringhea, whose intelli- gence was so greatly superior to their own, although they themselves were amongst the most eminent leaders of this sanguinary fraternity. . " You are right, brother," exclaimed the Hindoo, fired by the en- thusiasm of Faringhea; "be the world ours! Here, even in Java, let us leave a trace of our passage. Before we quit it, let us establish the good work in this island ; it will increase, for her misery is great. The Dutch are as rapacious as the English. Brothers, I saw in the marshy rice-fields of this isle, always deadly to those who cultivate them, men M'hom want forced to this suicidal labour ; they were pale and wan as dead corpses. Some, extenuated by sickness, fatigue, and famine, fell never again to rise I Brothers, the good work will increase in this land !" " The other evening," said the Mulatto, " I was on the border of the lake behind a rock ; a young woman came thither having on a few miserable rags, which scarcely covered her lean and wasted frame : in her arms she bore a young child, whom she, weeping, pressed against her dried-up breast. She embraced the infant thrice, saying, ' Thou, at least, shalt not become miserable like thy father ! ' and she cast it into the waters, uttering a piercing shriek as the child sunk. At this sound an alligator, concealed in the reeds, dashed into the lake. Brothers, here mothers kill their children for pity's sake. Oh, the good work will increase in this land ! " " This morning," said the Negro, " whilst they were mangling one of the black slaves with the lash, a little old man, a merchant of Batavia, left his country-house to return to the city. In his palanquin he received, with all the indolence of palled appetite, the sad caresses of two of the young creatures with whom his harem is peopled, by purchasing them of their parents, too poor to bring them up. The palanquin which held this old man and the two young girls was borne by a dozen young and powerful men. Brethren, there are mothers here who, from want, sell their children slaves who have not 144 THE WANDERING JEW. a brute's pity nor a hound's fee men who carry others like beasts of burthen ; yes, yes, the good work will increase in this country ! " " In this country? yes, and in every country of oppression, misery, corruption, and slavery." " Should we succeed in engaging Djalma to join us, as Mahal the smuggler advises us," said the Indian, " our voyage to Java will be doubly profitable ; for before we go we shall include in our ranks this bold and daring young man, who has so many motives for hating mankind." " When he comes we will sharpen his animosities." " Let us remind him of his father's death." " The slaughter of all his people." " His own captivity." " If hatred but inflame his heart, he is assuredly ours." The Negro, who had been for some time lost in thought, said abruptly, " My brothers, what if the smuggler Mahal has deceived us?" " He !" exclaimed the Indian, almost indignantly ; " why, he gave us refuge on board his coaster, and effected our escape from the main- land, and he will take us on board the schooner which he is to command, and convey us to Bombay, where we shall find vessels for America, Europe, and Africa." " What interest can Mahal have for betraying us ?" inquired Faringhea ; " he knows how impossible it is to escape the vengeance of the sons of Bohwanie." " Then, too," said the black, " he has promised, by a trick, to bring Djalma here amongst us this evening ; and, once here, he must become one of us." " Besides, was it not the smuggler who said to us, ' Order the Malay to go to Djalma's ajoupa, to surprise him during sleep, but instead of killing him, as he might, let him mark on his arm Bohwanie's name ? ' Thus Djalma will judge of the resolution, address, and devotion of our brotherhood, and know what there is to hope and fear from such men. Through admiration or fear, then, he must join us." " But should he refuse to do so, in spite of the reasons he has to hate his fellow-men ? " " Then, Bohwanie will decide upon his destiny," said Faringhea, with a gloomy air. " I have my plan." " Think you the Malay will succeed in surprising Djalraa during his sleep ? " said the Negro. " It is impossible for living creature to be bolder, more adroit, and more active, than the Malay," said Faringhea. " He has had the daring to surprise a black female panther in her lair whilst she was suckling, and he killed the mother and carried off the cub, which he afterwards sold to the captain of an European vessel." " The Malay has succeeded ! " exclaimed the Hindoo, listening to a singular cry which resounded through the deep silence of the night and woods. " Yes, it is the cry of the vulture who bears off his prey," said the Negro, also listening. " It is the signal by which our brethren an- nounce their success." Shortly afterwards the Malay appeared at the door of the hut. DJALMA AND THE STRANGLERS. P. MY : riiapinnn .iinl Hall. May I. THE AMBUSCADE. 145 He was dressed in a large piece of cotton, striped with various bright colours. " Djalma will all his life bear the mark of the good work" said the Malay, exultingly. " To get at him I was compelled to offer up to Bohwanie a man who crossed my path ; I left his carcass under the bushes near the ajoupa. Djalma bears our sign Mahal the smuggler was the first to know that." "And! Djalma did not awake?" said the Indian, amazed at the Malay's address. " If he had awakened, I must have been dead," replied he, calmly ; " for I was ordered to spare his life." " Because his life may be more useful to us than his death," replied the Mulatto. Then, addressing the Malay, " Brother, in risking your life for the good work, you have done to-day what we did yesterday, and must do again to-morrow. To-day, you obey; another day, and you will command." " We all belong to Bohwanie," said the Malay. " What is next to be done ? I am ready." As he spoke, the Malay turned towards the door of the hovel, and said suddenly, and in a calm voice, " Here is Djalma he is approach- ing the cabin : Mahal has not deceived us." " He must not see me yet," said Faringhea, going into the further corner of the hut and concealing himself beneath a mat. " Try and persuade him ; if he resist, I have my plan." Faringhea had scarcely disappeared when Djalma reached the door of the hovel. At the sight of these three persons, with countenances so repulsive, Djalma recoiled with surprise. Ignorant that these men belonged to the sect of Phansegar and knowing that in this country, where there are no public-honses, travellers often pass the night under tents, or in ruins which they pass, he made a step towards them. When his first surprise was over, recognising, in the bronzed features and peculiar costume of one of these individuals, a Hindoo, he said to him, in his native tongue, " I expected to find here an European, a Frenchman." " The Frenchman is not here now," replied the Indian ; " but he will not be long." The Indian comprehending by Djalma's question the means which Mahal had made use of to draw him into this snare, hoped to gain time by not undeceiving him. " Do you know this Frenchman?" asked Djalma of the Phansegar. " He appointed to meet us here as well as yourself," replied .the ndian. " And why ?" said Djalma, more and more astonished. " You will know when he arrives." " Was it General Simon who told you to be here?" " It was General Simon." There was a momentary pause, during which Djalma in vain endeavoured to expound tliis mystery. " And who are you?" he inquired of the Indian with a suspicious air, for the profound silence which the two companions of the Phan- segar observed began to excite his suspicion. 10 L 146 THE WANDERING JEW. " Who afc we ? " replied the Hindoo ; " we are yours if you will be ours." " I have no need of you : you have no need of me ? " "Who knows?" I know." "You deceive yourself: the English killed your father; he was a king. You have been a captive, proscribed, and now possess nothing." At this reminding of his condition and his sufferings, Djalma's brow became clouded ; he started, and a bitter smile curled his lips. The Phansegar continued : " Your father was just and brave ; beloved by his subjects : he was called the Father of the Generous, and well named was he. Will you let his death pass away without vengeance ? Hatred is gnawing at your heart ; shall it bite into you in vain ? " " My father died with his weapons in his hand I revenged his death on the English, whom I slew in battle. He who replaced my father, and also fought for him, has told me that it would be folly, madness, for me to seek to contend against the English to recover my territory. When they set me at liberty I swore never again to set foot in India, and I will keep my word." " They who despoiled you, who made you captive, who killed your father, are men. Yes, men I And there are other men on whom you may take vengeance , let your hate fall on them." " You, who speak so of your fellow-men, are not you also a man ?" " I, and those who are with me, are more than men. We are to the rest of the human race what the bold hunters are to the fierce beasts whom they track into the woods. Will you become as we are- more than a man? Will you assuage surely, widely, fully, safely, the hatred that devours your heart, after all the ill, the injury they have done you?" " Your words become more and more obscure. I have no hatred in my heart," said Djalma. " When an enemy is worthy of me, I fight him ; when he is unworthy, I despise him ; and so I do not hate cither the brave or the coward." " Treachery I " exclaimed the Negro, suddenly pointing to the door with a quick gesture ; for Djalma and the Indian had moved, in the course of their conversation, towards one of the corners of the hut. At the cry of the Negro, Faringhea, whom Djalma had not per- ceived, threw rapidly from him the mat behind which he was concealed, drew his dagger, and, with a leap like a tiger's, was out of the cabin. Seeing then a body of soldiers approaching cautiously, he struck one of them dead with his poignard, dashed down two others, and then dis- appeared amidst the ruins. This occurred so instantaneously that, at the moment when Djalraa turned round to seek the cause of the Negro's alarm and cry, Faringhea had disappeared.. Djalma and the three Stranglers were then immediately under the fire of the raised muskets of many of the soldiery, whilst the others hastened in pursuit of Faringhea. The Negro, the Malay, and the Hindoo, seeing the inutility of resistance, rapidly exchanged some words, and then extended their hands to the cords with which the soldiers were furnished. THE AMBUSCADE. 147 The Dutch captain who commanded the detachment entered the cabin. " And this one," said he, pointing out Djalma to the soldiers, who had bound the three Phansegars. " Each in his turn, sir," said the old serjeant ; " we were going on to him." Djalma remained petrified with surprise, wholly unable to compre- hend any thing that passed around him ; but when he saw the serjeant and two soldiers advance to bind him, he repulsed them with violent indignation, and hastened to the door where the officer was standing. The soldiers, believing that Djalma would submit to his fate as quietly as his companions, did not anticipate this resistance ; but struck, in spite of themselves, with the dignity and nobility of the air of Kadja- Sing's son, they retreated a pace or two. " Why would you bind me as you have these men ? " exclaimed Djalma, speaking in Indian to the officer, who understood the language. " Why bind you, you wretch ? Because you are one of thig gang of assassins." " Are you afraid of him ? " said he in Dutch to his men. " Bind him, bind him hard and fast, and tie your knots tight round his wrists ; he'll have a tighter one round his neck very speedily." " You are mistaken," said Djalma, with a calmness and dignity which astounded the officer. " I have been here scarcely a quarter of an hour. I know nothing of these men. I expected to have found a Frenchman here." " You are not a Phansegar like them ? Who will believe that lie?" "Like them!" exclaimed Djalma, with a movement of horror so natural, that the officer signed to his soldiers to be quiet. " These men form part of that horrible body of murderers? and do you accuse me of being their accomplice ? Then I am quite re-assured, sir," said the young man, shrugging his shoulders and smiling disdainfully. " Your expression of tranquillity will not suffice in this case, as, thanks to certain information we have received, we are cognisant of the mysterious signs which designate a Phansegar." " I repeat, that you yourself, sir, cannot hold this murderous sect in greater abhorrence than I do ! " The Negro, interrupting Djalma with ferocious joy, addressed the officer, saying, " You have spoken well. The sons of the good work are easily known by the mystic characters tattooed on their body. Our hour has arrived, and wo welcome our fate. Full oft has our fatal cord encircled the necks of such as were enemies of the good work. Now, then, first behold our arms ; then examine those of this young man." The officer, only imperfectly understanding the words of the Negro, turned to Djalma, saying, " It is clear that if, as this Negro asserts, you do not bear on your arm the mysterious symbol, and of that \ve shall easily satisfy ourselves, und can fully account for your presence on this spot, you will be liberated at the end of two hours." 148 THE WANDERING JEW. " You do not comprehend me," exclaimed the Negro to the officer. " Prince Djnlma is our leading brother, and bears on his left arm the name of Bohwanie in testimony thereof." " Yes," added the Malay ; " he is as much the sworn servant of the good work as we are." " And as compete a Phansegar as any of us," rejoined the Indian. These three men, deeply irritated at the indignant disgust with which Djalma had repudiated the idea of belonging to their sect, now took a ferocious delight in endeavouring to prove the son of Kadja- Sing a member of their horrible association. "What answer do you make to all this?" inquired the officer of Djalma. The prince, smiling disdainfully, replied only by thrusting back with his right hand the loose hanging sleeve from his left arm, and extending it bare to the shoulder, for general inspection. "Unparalleled audacity !" exclaimed the officer, as, directing his glance to the out-stretched arm of the prince, he beheld, in indelible characters of deep blood-red, the name of Bohwanie traced just above the principal veins at the bend of the inside elbow-joint. Passing rapidly from the prince to the Malay, the officer pushed back his sleeve, and saw the same letters similarly traced. Still deter- mined upon further proof, he carefully examined the arms of the Negro and Indian ; each bore the precise counterpart of the mysterious words written on the arm of Djalma. "Miserable and contemptible being!" cried the officer, turning towards the prince, in a paroxysm of rage ; "you are more hateful and abhorrent to my sight than even your wretched associates ! Handcuff him, like a mean, cowardly assassin as he is !" added he to the soldiers ; " tie him as a paltry miscreant who lies even on the verge of the grave, for assuredly his punishment will not be long deferred." Stupified and speechless, Djalma remained in mute and motionless surprise, gazing on the fatal and incomprehensible marks upon his arm his whole being absorbed in dismay and wonder at a fact so bewildering. " Have you still the effrontery to deny bearing these characters?" exclaimed the officer, with deep disgust and indignation. "Alas, no!" returned the prince, in accents of intense suffering. " ' Tis there I see it but too plainly." " 'Tis well, unhappy man ! that you at length avow your guilt," replied the officer. " Soldiers, watch over this person and his accom- plices remember your own lives will have to answer for it if you suffer them to escape." Djalma, who could not believe all this was more than a fearful dream, and whose senses were so completely disturbed as to prevent his attempting to justify himself, allowed the soldiers to manacle his limbs, and lead him away without offering the slightest resistance. The officer, aided by a party of soldiers, sought diligently through- out the ruins in hopes of discovering Faringhea, but in vain ; and at the lapse of an hour he followed the prisoners, who had been previously despatched to Batavia under a powerful escort. ****** A few hours after the passing of the events we have just described, THE AMBUSCADE. 149 M. Joshua Van Dae'l thus terminated his long letter of particulars ad- dressed to M. Rodin, at Pa'ris : " Circumstances rendered it impossible for me to act otherwise than I have done ; and, after all, if a small mischief has been done, it. has been to effect a great good. " Three atrocious murderers have been delivered into the hands of justice, and the temporary arrest of Djalma will only serve to display his innocence in a stronger light. " I have already been this morning to the governor to assert the innocence of the young prince ; ' for," said 1, ' since it is entirely owing to me that three notorious criminals have fallen into the hands of jus- tice, I have a strong claim upon the gratitude of the public authorities, whose long and earnest desire I have now enabled them to carry into effect ; and I therefore require, as my sole recompense, that they will use every exertion to clear the character of Prince Djalma, already so justly estimated for his many noble qualities, and deservedly commi- serated for his great misfortunes. Certainly,' continued I, 'when I hastened yesterday to apprise the governor that a meeting of the Phan- segars would take place in the ruins of Tchandi, I was far from expect- ing that it would, in any way, involve the character and safety of the adopted son of General Simon, whom I know to be a mdsc highly honourable man, and with whom I have had many satisfactory trans- actions.' " We must, therefore, at all risks, and at any cost of time or patience, use the most strenuous efforts to penetrate the inconceivable mystery which has placed Djalma in his present dangerous position. 'And,' added I, 'I am so perfectly convinced of his entire innocence of the revolting charge under which he now suffers, that for his o\vn sake I seek no pardon, neither do I solicit his immediate release the prince, I am assured, possesses too much pride and dignity to desire to quit his prison until his innocence is made to appear clear and un- clouded as the sun at noon-day.' " You will perceive that in thus expressing myself I in no respect departed from the truth, neither have I loaded my conscience with the slightest falsehood, since no person can be more perfectly satisfied of the innocence of Prince Djalma than myself. "The reply of the governor was precisely what I expected it would be. He said that, morally speaking, he was equally convinced with myself of the young prince's innocence, and that his best exertions should be given to clear him of the foul accusation ; but that justice must take its course, because it afforded the only certain method of demonstrating the falsity of the charge made against the prince, or of discovering by what incomprehensible fatality the mysterious charac- ters were tattooed on the arm of Djalma. " Mahal the smuggler, who alone could clear up this perplexing point, will have quitted Batavia within an hour, to embark on board the Ruyter, which will land him in Egypt; and he will be furnished with a note from me, recommending him to the captain of that vessel as the individual whose passage on board the Jtitylcr I have engaged and paid for : he will also bring you this long letter, for the ship 1 am referring to sails in an hour, and the letters for Europe were made up and the bags closed last night. I wished, however, to report to you 150 THE WANDERING JEW. the result of my conference with the governor this morning, before finally sealing my voluminous packet. " You perceive, therefore, by what I have said, that Prince Djalma will be forcibly detained here for at least a month ; and the opportunity of sailing by the Ruyter thus lost, it will be entirely im- possible for the young Indian to be in France before the 13th of Fe- bruary in the coming year. " Thus have I, to the best of my ability, blindly and explicitly fol- lowed your directions, considering only the aim and END^ which should justify the MEANS employed. You assure me that the welfare of society requires the sacrifice of a few to the general good, and I yield implicit obedience to your words and commands, passively con- tenting myself with being, what all should be, willing to become a mere machine in the hands of my superiors, obeying their impulses, without even seeking to guess the motive or reason ; and well remem- bering that high and impressive command, ' that, to promote any great or holy design, we should place ourselves in the hands of our superiors as mute, as passive, and as passionless, as would be a corpse taken from its grave.'* " Let us then continue to act in firm concert and entire confidence in each other's zeal, for we live in troubled times ; circumstances and events may alter, we can know no change. Obedience and courage, secrecy and patience, cunning and boldness, union and devotion, be Tienceforth the watchwords of those who have no country but the universe, no family but our brethren, and no authority but the Church of Rome. J. V." About ten o'clock in the morning, Mahal the smuggler departed with his sealed despatches to go on board the Ruyter : but at the ex- piration of an hour, his body, evidently strangled by the Phansegars, was found among the rushes of a wild spot he had to pass in order to reach his bark, and proceed in her to the vessel he was to sail in. The Ruyter had been gone more than an hour when the body of the smuggler was first discovered ; but in vain did M. Joshua cause the strictest search to be made for the voluminous packet entrusted to him not a trace could be discovered of it, or the letter addressed to the captain of the Ruyter, recommending Mahal as the passenger he was to expect : neither were the close researches made after Faringhea successful. The dangerous chief of the Stranglers was never again seen in Java. * It is well known that the doctrine of passive and absolute ohedience, the grand pivot on which the body of Jesuits turned, was recalled by the dying words of Loyola : " Let each member of this association be in the hands of his superiors J.IKF A CORPSE DRAWN FROM THE TOMB, PERI NDE AC CADAVER." KH!^ I m MONSIEUR ANI1 MADAME DUPONT. 151 CHAPTER XXIV. THE CHATEAU DE CARDOVILLE. M. RODIN. THREE months have passed away sinco Djalroa was cast into prison at Batavia, accused of belonging to the murderous sect of the Phause- gars or Stranglers.. The scene we now describe is in France, at the beginning of the month of February, 1832, at the Chateau de Cardo- ville, an ancient feudal habitation, situated on the high cliffs of the coast of Picardy, not far from St. Valery, a very dangerous sea-shore, where almost every year ships are lost in gales from the north-west, which render the navigation of the Channel so dangerous. In the interior of the chateau was heard the roaring of the wild tempest which had arisen in the night, and, at intervals, there was a loud noise resembling a discharge of artillery, which echoed all around, and was repeated by the hollows of the rocks. It was the sea, which dashed with fury against the high cliffs which towered around the old manor-house. It was about seven o'clock in the morning, and daylight had not pe- netrated the windows of the large apartment on the ground-floor of the chateau ; it was lighted by a lamp, before which was seated a female of about sixty years of age, with an open and good-tempered face, clothed after the fashion of the respectable farmers' wives of Picardy, and occupied with needle-work, although it was so early. At a little distance was her husband, about her own age. He was seated before a large table, and sorting out and putting into small bags samples of wheat and oats. The countenance of this grey-haired old man was intelligent and honest, expressive of sound sense and a love of fair deal- ing, and lighted up by a look of mirthful humour. He wore a cut- away coat of green cloth, high tanned-leather gaiters, coming above the knees of his black velveteen breeches. The terrible storm which was raging outside seemed to make this peaceable interior even still more comfortable. An excellent fire was blazing in a chimney-place made of white marble, which threw the reflexion of its cheerful glare on the carefully dry-rubbed floor. No- thing could be more gay than the hangings anil curtains of old Persian cloth, with red Chinese figures on a white ground ; and nothing more pleasing than the paintings in the panels of the room, which repre- sented village scenes, shepherds and shepherdesses, in the style of Watteau. A pendule in JSevres biscuit, rose-wood furniture inlaid with buhl-work and of old-fashioned construction, in all sorts of odd shapes, twistings, and crooked constructions, completed the fitting-up of the apartment. The tempest continued to roar without, and the wind from time to time howled in the chimney, or shook violently the casements of the window. The man who was occupied in assorting the samples of grain was M. Dupont, the land-steward of the Chateau de Cardo- ville. " Sainte Vierge ! my dear," said his wife to him, " what awful weather ! This Monsieur Rodin, whose arrival the head-steward of 152 THE WANDERING JEW. the Princess de Saint-Di/.ier has informed us we are to expect this morning, has selected a very uncomfortable day for his journey." " Why, in truth, I think I never remember such a fearful tempest. If M. Rodin never saw the sea in a rage, he may to-day amuse him- self with the sight." " Who is this M. Rodin who is to come here to-day, mon ami T " Ma foi ! I don't know : the intendant of the princess desires me in his letter to shew him every attention, and obey him as I would my master. It will be for M. Rodin to explain himself, and for me to obey his orders, since he comes from the princess herself." " Why, to be quite precise, it is from Mademoiselle Adrienne that he really comes, as the estate belongs to her since the death of her late father, the Count-Duke de Cardoville." " Yes, but the princess is her aunt, and her chief agent does the business of Mademoiselle Adrienne ; so, whether he comes from her or the princess, why it's all the same thing." " Perhaps M. Rodin intends to purchase the estate, although the stout lady who came purposely from Paris a week ago, to see the chateau, seemed very anxious to have it." At these words the steward smiled. "What makes you laugh, Dupont?" inquired his wife, who was an excellent woman, but not remarkable for the brilliancy of her understanding or the acuteness of her penetration. " I laugh," replied Dupont, " because I was think'ing of the face and figure of this stout, this enormous woman. Only imagine with such an appearance that any female should call herself Madame de Sainte-Colombe f Dieu de dieu ! what a saint and what a dove (colombe) \ She is as big as a kilderkin, with a voice like a dram- drinker, and moustaches as thick and grey as a grenadier of the line 1 And I heard her say to her servant, * Come, get on, my trump ! ' And she is Sainte-Colombe /" " Really, Dupont, you make very strange remarks. She didn't choose her own name, you know ; and as to her beard, poor lady ! she cannot help that." " Yes, but it is her fault if she calls herself De la Sainte-Colombe ; you can't believe that it is her real name. Ah, my poor Catherine ! you are as simple as ever." " And you, my poor Dupont, you cannot help always saying little sharp things. Now I think the lady looked very respectable. The first thing, too, that she asked when she arrived was about the chapel belonging to the chateau, of which she had been informed. She declared she would fit it up again : and when I told her that there was no church in this small district, she appeared quite distressed at being deprived of a cure in the village." " Yes ah ! yes the first thing your parvenus do is always to play the charitable, and meddle with the affairs of the parish, like a great lady." " But Madame de la Sainte-Colombe has no occasion to play the great lady, for she is so already." " She a great lady ?" " Yes ; why, only look at how beautifully she was dressed, with her shot-silk gown and her violet-coloured gloves, as handsome as THB CHATEAU DE CARDOVILJ.E. M. RODIN. 153 a bishop's ; and then, when she took off her hat, she had round her false hair a bandeau of diamonds, and ear-rings of diamonds as large as my thumb-nail, and rings on every one of her fingers! Depend upon it she is a person of consequence, or she would not wear so many jewels in the open day." " Um I um ! you are a very clever body." " That is not all." " Go on what else?" "She talked of nothing and nobody but dukes, marquises, counts, and very rich people, who visited her, and were her friends ; and then, when she saw the little pavilion in the park, which was half- burnt down by the Prussians, and which the late count \vould not repair, she said, ' What ruins are these ?' I replied, ' Madame, this pavilion was burnt down when the allies were in this country.' ' Indeed, uiy dear,' said she ; ' the allies the good allies the dear allies they and the Restoration began to make my fortune.' Then I said to myself, Dupont, says I, ' Ah, I see, she is an ancient tinigree.' " " Madame de Sainte-Colombe ! " shrieked the steward, bursting with laughter ; " oh, my poor wife ! my poor wife !" " Ah, because you were once for three years in Paris, you think you know every thing." " Catherine, my dear, let us talk of something else ; you will make me say something 1 do not wish. There are things, my love, which good and simple-hearted creatures like you ought never to know." " I do not know what you mean by that, but pray try not to say such ill-natured things of people ; for if Madame de Sainte-Coloinbe does buy the estate, you wish to remain as steward, don't you ?" " To be sure 1 do, for we are growing very old, Catherine, dear ; and having been here for twenty years we have been too honest to save money for our old age ; and, inafoi ! it would be very hard, at our time of life, to have to seek another home, and, perhaps, not find it. Ah ! what I regret is that Mademoiselle Adrienne will not keep the estate, for it seems that it is she who will sell it, and that the princess did not wish her to part from it." " Mon Dieit ! Dupont, you do not surely see any thing very extra- ordinary in tho fact of Ma'amselle Adrienne's desire to spend some of her large fortune, so young as she is ?" " Oh, the thing is natural enough ; Ma'amselle, having neither father nor mother, is her own mistress, and she has a 'cute little head of her own. Don't you remember ten years ago, when the count, her father, brought her here one summer, what a self-willed young lady she was ? what temper ? and such eyes !/<'/, how they sparkled and shone even then !" " 'Tis truth to be said, Ma'amselle Adrienne had a very singular expression in her look very strange for her age." "If she has grown up as she promised to do, with her wild and animated countenance, she must be very handsome now, in spite of the rather peculiar hue of her hair ; for, between ourselves, if she was a little shop-girl, instead of a damsel of high birth, every body would say that she was red-haired." " For shame ! again something ill-natured." 154 THE WANDERING JEW. " Of Ma'amselle Adrienne ? Heaven forbid I for she promised to be as good as she was handsome ; and it is not to wrong or scandalise her that I should call her red-haired. On the contrary : for I remember that her locks were so fine, so bright, so golden, and suited so admirably her snow-white skin and black eyes, that I would not have had them altered if I could. Therefore, 1 am sure that now this auburn colour, which would have been detrimental to others, will render Ma'amselle Adrienne's hair only more charming ; and she must now be a real wanton little sprite." " Oh ! as to that, she was always full of tricks and fun ; running in the park, teasing her governess, climbing the trees, and a hundred little funny ways." " I agree that there Ma'amselle Adrienne was a very little devil, but then so full of sense, kindness, and so good-hearted !" " She was, indeed. Didn't she once give her new shawl and merino dress to a poor little beggar-girl, and then returned to the chateau with nothing but her petticoat on, and with her arms bare ?" " Yes, heart, plenty of heart, wife ; but her head ah ! what a head ! " " Yes, a wild, very wild head ; and I fear it may lead her into mischief; for it seems that in Paris she does things such things ! " " What things ?" " Oh, my dear, I dare not say." " Come, tell away, old lady." "Well, then," said the worthy housewife, with a sort of em- barrassment and concern, which shewed how deeply such enormities affected her, "they do say that Ma'amselle Adrienne never sets foot in church ; that she lives all alone in an idolatrous temple at the end of the garden of her aunt's hotel ; that she is waited on by women in masks, who dress her up like a goddess, and she scratches them all day long, for she gets tipsy, and then all night long she plays on a hunting-horn of solid gold ; and all this, as you may well suppose, is most terribly afflicting and annoying to her poor aunt the princess." At this moment the steward burst out into so loud a fit of laughter, that he quite interrupted his wife. " Really ! " said he, when he had finished ; " and who told you these fine facts about Ma'amselle Adrienne ?" " Why, Rene's wife, who went to Paris to see a child she had weaned ; and when she called at the Hotel de Saint-Dizier she saw Madame Grivois, her godmother, she, you know, is first fenime- de-chambre to the princess. Well, then, this Madame Grivois told her all this, and of course she must know all about it as she belongs to the household." " Oh, that Grivois is a nice gossip a worthy woman ! Why, not long ago she was one of the gayest ladies I ever met with full of tricks; and now she is like her mistress, so pious and sanctimonious! Umph I why she is now a devotee ! like mistress like maid. And the princess, too she who is now so stiff-starched and very correct why I remember the time when she used to play fine pranks : about fifteen years ago what a frolicsome miss was she ! You remember that handsome hussar colonel who was quartered at Abbeville ? You must THE CHATEAU DE CARDOVILLE. M. RODIN. 155 remember an emigrant who had served in Russia, and to whom the Bourbons gave a regiment at the Restoration !" " Yes, I remember very well ; but there you go again with your ill- natured remarks ! " " Mafoi ! not I, I only tell the truth. The colonel spent all his time at the chateau, and the world said that he was on very good terms with her holiness princess of to-day. Ah ! what a time we had of it then ! Every evening, plays or fetes at the chateau. What a devil what a rattler that colonel was I How well he acted ! I recollect, as though it was but yesterday " The steward was cut short in his recollections by a stout female servant, wearing the Pieardy costume and cap, who came into the room in a hurry, and said to her mistress, " Mistress, there is some gentleman who is asking for master ; he lias just come from St. Valery in a post-chaise, and he says his name is Monsieur Rodin." " M. Rodin ! " said the steward ; " ask him in instantly." A minute afterwards M. Rodin entered. He was, according to custom, more than humbly dressed. He made a low bow to the steward and his wife, who, on a sign from her husband, left the room. The cadaverous countenance of M. Rodin, his almost imperceptible lips, his small reptile-like and half-closed eyes, nearly covered by the placid upper lid, and his clothes almost beggarly, combined to render his appearance anything but prepossessing. Yet this man, when it was requisite or politic, knew how, by a devilish skill, to assume so much kindness and sincerity, to make his phrases so agreeable and so insinuating, that, by degrees, the disagreeable and repulsive effect which his first appearance conveyed was destroyed, and he almost al- ways succeeded in seizing his dupe or victim in the twisting folds of his hypocrisy by the aid of his language, which was as apparently yielding as it was honeyed and treacherous. It is said that the ugly and the evil have their fascination as well as the handsome and the good. The honest steward looked at this individual with surprise, when he recollected the pressing recommendations of the intendant of the Princess de Saint-Dizier. He expected a totally different personage, and could hardly conceal his astonishment when he said, " I have the honour of seeing M. Rodin ? " " Yes, sir ; and here is another letter from the intendant of the Princess de Saint-Dizier." " Pray, sir, draw near the fire whilst I read this letter. The weather is so bad," said the steward, with much respect, " may I offer you any thing?" " A thousand thanks, my dear sir ; I leave again in an hour." Whilst M. Dupont was reading, M. Rodin cast around him a scrutinising glance at the interior of the room ; for, like a skilful man of the world, he often drew his most correct and useful inferences from appearances, which often betray the taste and habits, and also afford some idea of character; but, for once, his sagacity was at fault. 156 THE WANDERING JEW. " Very well, sir," said the steward, after he had finished the letter ; " the intendant renews his instructions that I will place myself entirely at your orders." " Oh ! I shall give you but very little trouble, and not detain you long." " Sir, it is an honour." " Mon Dieu ! I know how fully you must be employed, for, as I came in, I was struck with the order and perfect arrangement which I observed every where a proof, my dear sir, of the regularity and care which you display." " Sir really you flatter me." " Flatter you ! a poor old man like me does not think of that : but, to business. You have here a room which is called the Green Chamber?" " Yes, sir ; it is the apartment which the late Count-Duke de Car- doville used as his own study." " Have the kindness to conduct me to it." " Unfortunately, sir, that is impossible. After the death of the count, and when the seals were removed, a quantity of papers were shut up in the chamber in a cabinet, and the lawyers took the keys away with them to Paris." " The keys ! oh, here they are I " said M. Rodin, shewing the steward a bunch, on which was a large key and several small ones. " Ah, sir, that alters the case. You want some papers, then ? " " Yes, certain papers, and a small wooden casket with silver hinges ; do you know it ? " " I do, sir ; I have often seen it on the table of the count when he was writing, and it must be in the large china cabinet, of which you have the key." " Be so good, then, as lead me thither, as I have the authority of the Princess de Saint-Dizier." " Yes, sir ; and is the princess quite well ? " " Perfectly ; she is, as usual, wholly absorbed in heavenly things." " And Mademoiselle Adrienne ? " " Alas, my dear sir !" said M. Rodin, with a deep and commise- rating sigh. " Merciful Heavens ! what can you mean ? Surely, nothing has happened to that excellent young lady ?" " You do not understand me." " Is she ill ? Speak, I beseech you, and terminate my uneasiness." " No, no I she is well. Unhappily, her health is only equalled by her extreme beauty." " Unhappily ! " repeated the registrar, in extreme amazement. " Too truly I said so," replied Rodin ; " for when youth, beauty, and high health are joined to a perverse spirit, and a bold, reckless dis- regard of all that is wise and good, it becomes rather a source of regret that all these personal advantages, so dangerous in the hands of one who, probably, has not, for violence of conduct and unbridled humours, her equal upon earth, should probably lead but to perdition. But let me pray of you, my dear sir, to speak of other things the subject is too painful for me," added M. Rodin, in a voice of deep emotion, and wiping the corner of his right eye with the tip of the little finger of THE CHATEAU DE CAUDOVILLE. M. RODIN. 157 his left hand, as though anxious to conceal the tear that had gathered there. The registrar did not perceive the tear, but he saw the action, and was much struck with the alteration in M. Rodin's voice ; he therefore replied, in a tone of sympathising regret, " I have been thoughtless enough to distress you, I fear let me crave your pardon for my inad- vertence ; I was not aware " Nay, my good friend, it is rather for me to ask you to excuse this involuntary weakness tears are rare visitors at my age; but had you seen, as I did, the despair of that excellent princess, whose only fault has been that of having been too indulgent perhaps, weakly so to her niece ; and so to have encouraged her in her But again, let me beg we may change the subject of our discourse, my very dear sir." After a momentary silence, during which M. Rodin appeared struggling to regain his usual calmness, he said to M. Dupont, " As far as regards the green chamber, then, my dear sir, one part of my mission is fulfilled ; there is still another matter to talk over with you, and, before I commence it, I must recall to your memory a circumstance you may probably have forgotten the fact of a Mar- quis d'Aigrigny, then a colonel of hussars quartered at Abbeville, having, about fifteen or sixteen years since, passed some time here." " Ah ! I recollect him well," answered Dupont; " a fine, soldierly, gentlemanlike man, as you would see in a thousand. I was talking of him to my wife, a very little while ago ; he was the very life and soul of the chateau ; and such a clever actor ! he always played the wild, rollicking characters, in all the private theatricals with which the com- pany used to amuse themselves. I think I see him in the ' Ttvo Ed- monds.' He used to play the part of the drunken soldier admirably ! And what a voice he had ! when he sung the music of Joconde you might have heard a fly move its wings ; every body said there was not such a singer in Paris." Rodin, after complacently listening to the registrar, proceeded : " You know, doubtless, that after a terrible duel with a violent Buonapartist, named General Simon, the Marquis d'Aigrigny (whose private secretary I have now the honour of being) determined upon forsaking the world, and devoting himself to the church ? " " Is it possible ? what a sacrifice ! so brave a soldier I" " Yes, this brave soldier, so rich, so noble, so justly esteemed and every where sought after, resigned all these advantages to assume a humble black robe ; and spite of his name, his rank, his high family connexions and influence, combined with his reputation and eloquence as the first preacher of the day, he is just what he was fourteen years ago a simple abbe, instead of being an archbishop or a cardinal, as many are who do not possess either his merits or virtues." M. Rodin said this in so natural and unaffected a manner, expres- sive of his own entire conviction of the truth and justice of all he asserted, that M. Dupont involuntarily exclaimed, " What a fine, what a noble picture you have drawn I " " Nay," answered M. Rodin, with a well-assumed air of ingenuous- ness, " nay, my dear friend, you overrate it; to a heart like that of M. d'Aigrigny, such conduct was the mere simple dictate of his excel- 158 THE WANDERING JEW. lent nature. But among his many fine qualities, he particularly pos- sessed that of never overlooking merit in others, or of allowing men of honour, probity, and conscientious discharge of duty, to go unre- warded. Thus, therefore, my worthy M. Dupont, he has not failed to think of you." " Is it possible M. le Marquis has condescended to " " Only three days since I received a letter from him, in which you were particularly mentioned." " He is, then, in Paris ? " " He is shortly expected to arrive there. About three months ago he set out for Italy ; during the journey, he received the afflicting in- telligence of the death of his mother, who had gone to pass the autumn at one of the estates belonging to the Princess de Saint-Dizier." " Indeed ! I was not aware of that." " Yes, indeed ; the blow fell on him with a crushing weight, for he was most tenderly attached to his parent. But we must all resign our- selves to the will of Providence." " And may I be permitted to inquire what it was M. le Marquis did me the honour to say in his letter respecting me ?" " I am about to inform you : in the first place, you must know this chateau is sold ; the agreement was signed the evening previous to my quitting Paris." " Ah, now you renew all my fears." " As regards what ? " " Why, you see, I am fearful the new proprietor may not choose to continue me in my present office of registrar." " Really, this is a fortunate coincidence ! for it was precisely re- specting your situation I wished to speak with you." " Is it possible ? " "Certainly; and knowing full well the interest the marquis takes in you, I am most anxious, most desirous for you to retain your employ- ment, and I will do all and every thing in my power to effect so desir- able an end, if " " Ah, my kind friend and benefactor ! " exclaimed Dupont, inter- rupting Rodin ; " what thanks do I not owe you ! Heaven has surely sent you to my assistance." " Nay, now you flatter me, my worthy M. Dupont ; and I fear you will think less of my zeal to serve you when you find I am compelled to attach certain conditions to the service I propose to render you." " Oh, if that be all, let me beseech you, sir, speak say what you wish me to do : you will find me all obedience." " The new occupant of the chateau is an elderly lady, worthy of the highest consideration and respect : Madame de la Sainte-Colombe is the name of this excellent lady." " Bless me I" cried the steward, suddenly breaking in upon Rodin's eulogium on Madame de la Sainte-Colombe ; " is it possible that the lady who has bought the chateau, and Madame de la Sainte-Colombe, are the same ? " " You are acquainted with her, then ? " " Why, sir, about a week ago, she came here to look at the estate. My wife insists upon it she is a great lady ; but, between ourselves, from certain words she let fall " THE CHATEAU DE CARDOVILLE. M. RODIN. 159 " Ah ! you arc an accurate observer, I see, my worthy M. Dupont ; your opinion evinces your correct penetration. Madame de la Sainte- Colombe is not what may be styled a lady, either by birth or educa- tion. The fact is, I rather believe she was formerly neither more nor less than a milliner in the Palais Royal. You see I use no reserve with you, my excellent friend." " And that, I suppose, was what she meant when she talked of the numerous French and foreign noblemen who were in the habit of fre- quenting her house." " Most likely, when sent by their wives to order hats and caps, &c. However, one thing is very certain, that she continued to amass a large property ; and having been in her youth, as well as more mature age, indifferent alas! more than indifferent to the well-being of her soul, Madame de la Sainte-Colombe is now bent upon following out a most praiseworthy and excellent course of life, and it is this very reso- lution which renders her, as I said just now, worthy of universal respect and veneration : for what is more calculated to deserve it than a hearty and sincere forsaking of all evil ways, and a clinging to that which is good ? But that the repentance of this lady may be lasting, and her eternal welfare effectually secured, we must have your co-operation, my worthy friend." " And in what manner can I possibly assist the work ? " " You may do much ; and in this manner, for example. You have no church in this hamlet, which is situated at equal distances between its two adjacent villages. Well, Madame de la Sainte-Co- lombe being naturally anxious to choose between the two ministers belonging to these churches, and aware that yourself and Madame Dupont have long inhabited this part of the country, will be sure to inquire of you or your wife the respective merits of the different clergymen." " Oh, then we shall not be long in answering that question ; the cure of Danicourt is one of the best men breathing." " And that very piece of information is precisely what you must conceal from Madame de la Sainte-Colombe." " You amaze me ! " " On the contrary, you must boast to her, day and night, of the surpassing virtues and goodness of the cure of the other palish, M. de Koiville, in order that this dear lady may be induced to confide to him the salvation of her immortal soul." " And why must this preference be accorded ?" "For a very good and sufficient reason. If you or your wife no matter which can induce Madame do la Sainte-Colombe to choose as I wish her to do, you may roly upon being continued in your present office of steward : to that I pledge my honour, and, what I once promise, I never fail to perform." " I doubt not, monsieur, your having the full power to continue me in my present situation," said Dupont, perfectly convinced by the tone and look of authority assumed by Rodin of his being quite in oarnt-st ; " but I should much wish to know " " One word more," said Rodin, interrupting him. " It is but right, and I am quite willing to explain to you why I so particularly insist 160 THE WANDERING JEW. upon your aiding me in leading the new owner of the chateau to prefer one cure to another. I should be deeply grieved, indeed, to allow you to fancy even the shadow of an interested motive existed, when my only reason is a desire to perform a good and charitable action. The cure of Roiville, for whom I am solicitous of procuring your kind offices, is, in the first place, a person in whose welfare M. 1'Abbe d'Aigrigny takes a lively interest; then, as a second reason, I would urge his having an aged mother entirely dependent on him ; thirdly, I am perfectly convinced that, were he entrusted with the spiritual guidance of Madame de la Sainte-Colombe, he would be enabled to effect a more decided improvement than any other person less endowed with patience and zeal. And then, as in all probability, so wealthy a penitent as Madame de la Sainte-Colombe would, from time to time, evince her grateful conviction of his valuable exertions in her behalf by an occasional offering of some of her superfluous riches, it follows, as a matter of course, that the poor mother would profit by the cir- cumstance. And so you see, my excellent friend, the whole history of this great machination, which so deeply surprised and puzzled you. Directly I became aware of this lady's intention of buying the estate contiguous to the parish of our protege, I wrote to apprise M. le Marquis of it ; and he, immediately recollecting you, replied to the information by despatching a most kind letter, in which he spoke in the highest terms of your zeal and ability, requesting me to solicit of you the trifling favour I have just named, and which, as you perceive, it is so much to your interest to grant : for I repeat and I will prove my words that it rests entirely with me to continue you as land- steward or to nominate another in your place." " Permit me to observe," said Dupont, after a few moments' re- flection " and you are so candid and polite that I fear not to offend you by adopting a similar candour in proportion as the cure of Danicourt is beloved and respected throughout the country, so is M. le Cure of Roiville, to whom it is your wish to give the preference, disliked and dreaded for his bigoted and intolerant spirit. And, besides " Go on." " People do say " " Well, what do they say ? let us hear." " It is generally reported, and almost universally believed, he is a Jesuit ! " At these words M. Rodin burst into a fit of laughter, so natural and hearty, that the poor steward was rivetted to the spot with asto- nishment at mirth so unusual with M. Rodin, and also with the sin- gularly sinister look expressed on his countenance, even while his features were convulsed with irrepressible laughter. " A Jesuit I " repeated M. Rodin, whose hilarity seemed to increase at the very idea of any thing so ridiculous being urged against any man. "A Jesuit! ha! ha! ha! My dear M. Dupont, you must excuse me ; but how is it possible a person of your good sense, intel- ligence, and knowledge of the world, can listen to such exceeding non- sense ? A Jesuit I Are there such things nowadays do you believe? Can you really put faith hi these absurd Jacobinical tales THE CHATEAU DE CARDOV1LLE. M. UODIN. 161 these hobgoblins of decayed Liberalism ? I'll wager you what you please that you have been reading all these 4 raw-hcad-and-bloody-bone ' stories in the Constitutionel ! " " Still, sir, folks say " " Say ! why what is there that idle, gossiping, mischief-making people will not say ? But wise and enlightened men, such as yourself, never listen to the floating scandal, always prefaced as what persons say; they busy themselves only with their own affairs, and do not sacrifice to a love of silly tattling an excellent situation, which will ensure them comfort and independence for life : for I tell you candidly, that unless you pledge yourself to obtain for my protege the preference 1 desire as regards Madame de la Sainte-Colombe, I shall be obliged, though with regret, to appoint your successor as land-steward here without delay." "But but, sir!" exclaimed poor Dupont ; " surely you will not consider me to blame if the lady, hearing the other cure every where extolled and eulogised, should prefer him to the one you wish me to recommend ?" " Of course not ; but that will not occur. On the contrary, Madame de la Sainte-Colombe hearing the cure of Roiville the con- stant theme of praise and panegyric by people of long standing and good reputation in the place like you and your wife, for instance, whom she will daily and hourly be in the habit of mixing with and then hearing from the same individuals the most fearful and atrocious character of the minister of Danicourt, will infallibly prefer my protege, and you will remain land-steward for the rest of your days." "How can I calumniate an innocent man?" exclaimed Dupont, thoroughly bewildered in the midst of this fresh mental difficulty. " How can I utter falsehoods against one so good so amiable ?" " My dear Monsieur Dupont," returned M. Rodin, with an air of painful reproach, "I trust you do not so far misunderstand me as to suppose I am urging you to do any thing against your conscience. 1 was merely putting a simple case before you a plain supposition. You are anxious to be retained in your present situation, and 1 merely pointed out a certain means of obtaining your wish. I offered no advice in the matter ; it is for you to decide as to its being a chance to accept or refuse pray let that be understood." " But, M. Rodin " One word more ; or, rather, one condition more, which, indeed, is of greater importance than the other. Unfortunately, the ministers of our holy religion are but too frequently known to take advantage of the weakness of mind and character of their penitents, and to turn their very distaste for worldly possessions either to their own account or that of others. Now, though I believe our protege wholly incapable of conduct so base, yet, to effectually guard my own responsibility, and, indeed, yours also you having all the merit of introducing the spiritual adviser of Madame de la Sainte-Colombe I could wish you to write me, twice in each week, a full and minute detail of all you see, hear, or observe, in the conduct, character, and habits of Madame de la Sainte-Colombe even the books she reads, &c. &c. : for it is in these daily minulue the influence of a spiritual director is most clearly traced, and I wish to be perfectly satisfied as to the conscientious manner in 11 M 162 THE WANDERING JEW. which my protege performs his duty, without his being at all aware of it. So that if it occurred to you that any thing at all blamable wen- going on, I should be immediately apprised of it through your weekly journal, which, I must impress upon you, should be most exact and circumstantial, even to the very most trifling detail." " But surely, sir," remonstrated the unfortunate steward, " this is punitive espionage!" " Come, come, my dear M. Dupont, I cannot allow you to bestow so injurious an appellation on one of the most soothing blessings of life. Confidence / confidence, my friend ! I ask you not to become a spy I start at the word with the same horror and disgust you do : I but ask you, in strict confidence, remembeV to write me from day to day all that passes here, even to the most minute details. On these two conditions, which cannot be separated from each other, you remain, as you now are, land-steward to this estate. Otherwise, with deep regret, I shall be obliged to appoint another to serve Madame de la Sajntc-Colombe." "Ah, sir I" cried Dupont, trembling with emotion, " I conjure you to be generous, without imposing these hard conditions. This situation is the sole maintenance of myself and wife, and we are now too old to seek a fresh one : do not, therefore, allow the probity of forty years' standing to struggle against the horrors of want and misery, lest I sink under the temptation." " My very good friend, you really talk like a mere child ; pray shew more good sense. By this day week you will have the goodness to let me have your ultimate decision." " Oh, pity us I I beseech you not to leave me so sore a temptation to contend with. Pray, pray pity us I" The conversation was here interrupted by a violent noise, re-echoed by the surrounding heights. "What can that be?" inquired M. Rodin, Scarcely had he spoken the words than the same noise was repeated, with even an increased kmdness. " Guns are firing 1 " said Dupont, hastily rising from his seat : " probably some vessel is in distress, or requires a pilot." " Husband 1" exclaimed the steward's wife, as she hastily entered the apartment, " you may see from the terrace a steam-vessel and a ship out at sea, almost entirely dismasted ; the waves arc bringing them rapidly on to this coast. The three-masted ship fired the signal- guns you heard just now. Oh, they must perish J, .there is pot the slightest hope of escape." " Dreadful !" cried M. Dupont, taking his hat and preparing to go out ; " and to think we can only look on, and behold our fellow- creatures perish !" "Are there no means of succouring these unfortunate vessels?" inquired M, I ! would save the infant if possible ; and then she, with intense agony of joy, bathed his dark hands with her bitter but grateful tears. On another part of the deck of the Black Eagle was a passenger who appeared animated by the most active pity. He was hardly twenty-five years of age, and long and <5urling light hair waved around his attractive features. He wore a black cassock and white band. Going to the most despairing, and from one to the other, he gave them words of pious hope and resignation; and to have 166 THE WANDERING JEW. heard him console some, encourage others, in language full of zeal, tenderness, and perfect charity, he might have been supposed unaware or regardless of the perils he participated. In this beautiful and mild face might be seen cool and holy intre- pidity, a religious abstraction from all earthly thoughts, as, from time to time, he raised his full blue eyes, beaming with gratitude, love, and composure, as though humbly thanking God for having placed him in one of those formidable positions of trial in which a man of high- wrought feeling and courage can devote himself for his fellow-creatures, and, if not save all, at least die with them, pointing the way to Heaven. In truth, he might be deemed an angel, sent by the Creator to render loss cruel the blows of an inexorable fatality. Singular contrast I not far from this young man, as glorious as an archangel, was a being who resembled the Demon of Evil. Boldly stationed on the shattered end of the bowsprit, where he held on by means of some broken ropes, this man looked around on all that was passing on the deck. A fierce, brutal, and horrid delight overspread his yellow features, of that peculiar tint M'hich characterises the offspring of a white and Mulatto Creole. He only wore a shirt and cotton drawers, and round his neck was suspended by a cord a long tin case, such as that in which soldiers keep their discharge. The more the danger increased, the closer the three-master neared the fatal reefs, and the more they drew near the steam-vessel (which collision threatened to destroy both ships, even before they should be dashed on the rocks), the more did the fiendish joy of this passenger reveal itself in desperate delight. He seemed desirous of hastening, by his savage impatience, the work of destruction which was now so imminent. To see him feed greedily on all the agony, the terror, and despair- ings which were displayed before him, he might be taken for an apostle of one of those bloody divinities who, in barbarous climes, preside over murder and slaughter. The Slack Eagle, driven by the wind and the towering billows, now neared the William Tell so closely, that from the former vessel the passengers were seen collected on the deck of the Tell, which was in a sinking state. Her passengers were but few. The sea that struck her, by carry- ing away the paddle-box and injuring the wheel, had also carried away nearly all the bulwarks on that side ; and the waves, at every moment washing over the breach they had made, swept the deck with irresist- ible violence, carrying away in each rush of waters several victims. Amongst the passengers who seemed saved from the one peril but to be dashed in pieces on the rocks, or crushed by the shock of the two meeting vessels, was a group which claimed the tenderest, the most painful interest. Standing quite aft was a tall old man with bald head and grey moustache, who had tied round his body a long piece of rope which was fastened to the ship's side ; and thus secured, he clasped in his arms, and hugged tightly to his breast, two young girls of fifteen or sixteen years of age, half-wrapped up in a reindeer-skin cloak ; a large THE J-HII'WHKCK. I', ion. II 4,,,, I i THE TEMPEST. 167 dog, dripping with water, and barking furiously at the angry waters, was at their feet. These young girls, embraced in the old man's arms, clung also tightly to each other; but, far from looking around them with fear, they raised their eyes to Heaven, as, though full of confidence and ingenuous hope, they were expecting to be saved by the interposition of some supernatural power. A fearful and horrid cry was uttered by all the passengers on board both vessels, which resounded far above the rage of the tempest. At the moment when, dipping down into the abyss of a monster- wave, the steamboat presented her broadside to the bow of the three- master, the latter, lifted up on high by a mountain of water, was sus- pended as it were in air above the William Tell, for the moment which preceded the collision of the two vessels. It was a spectacle of sublime horror which no pencil can paint. Yes, during such catastrophes quick as thought we may some- times retain pictures so rapidly sketched by the mind's eye, that they seem but as a flash of lightning. Thus when the Slack Eagle, uplifted by the waves, was about to descend upon the William Tell, the young man with the archangel's countenance and light and flowing hair, stood upright in the bow of the three-master, ready to dash into the sea to save some victim from the closing waters. He then saw on board the steamboat, which was fully visible to him from his elevated position, two young females, who stretched to- wards him their hands in supplication. They seemed to recognise him, and looked at him with a sort of ecstasy of religious adoration I For a second, and in despite of the tempest's din- the coming wreck the looks of these three beings met. The features of the young man then expressed a sudden, a deep commiseration ; for the two girls, with joined hands, implored his aid as their expected rescuer. The old man, who had been struck down by the fall of a piece of the bulwark, was prostrate on the deck. Soon all disappeared ! A volume of deluging waters rushed impetuously over the Black Eagle, and that ship and the William Tell dashed furiously against each other in a torrent of boiling foam. At the fearful collision of these two masses of wood and iron, which grounded against each other, the timbers quivered and parted. There was, too, a harrowing cfy: A cry of agony and of death ! One cry, raised by a hundred human creatures sinking simultane- ously into the abyss of waters I And then nothing was seen ! A few moments after, in the hollows or on the summits of the waves, might be seen the broken timbers of the sunken ships, and here and there the contracted arms, the wan and despairing faces, of some wretches trying to reach the reefs of the shore at the risk of being dashed on them by the rebounding waves, which fell there in all their violence. 168 THE WANDERING JEW. CHAPTER XXVI. THE CHATEAU DE CARDOVILLE. THE SHIPWRECKED. WHILE the steward proceeded to the coast, in hopes of saving such of his fellow-creatures as might have been spared from the inevitable destruction of the two vessels, M. Rodin, conducted by Catherine to the green chamber, had employed himself in selecting the various articles he was to convey to Paris. A couple of hours had thus passed away, when M. Rodin, who had almost forgotten the fearful fate of the wrecked passengers, and took not the slightest interest in the exertions each inhabitant of the cha- teau was making to save them from a watery grave, returned to the apartment ordinarily occupied by the steward, a room which opened upon a long gallery. It was entirely empty when he entered it, bear- ing under his arm a small ebony casket, with silver clasps, blackened and tarnished by time, while in the breast-pocket of his half-closed great coat might be seen the end of a large red morocco pocket-book. Had the cold, impassive features of the Abbe d'Aigrigny's confi- dential secretary been capable of expressing joy in any other manner than by a sardonic grin, now was the hour when he might have shone out all radiant, for things had hitherto all combined to work to the end he desired, and M. Rodin's reflections were of the most pleasing and happy description. First placing the casket on a table, he said, in a low and well- satisfied tone, " All goes well : these papers have been prudently left here until now, for it was at all times requisite to be on our guard against the diabolical spirit of that Adrienne de Cardoville, who appears to know, instinctively, things she never could have been told by any human being. However, happily the hour is fast approaching when we shall have no further occasion to fear her. Her fate will be a cruel one, 'tis true; but it must be so ; such proud and independent natures as she possesses must be treated as our born foes : a character like hers is at all times inimical to our designs, but when it rises in direct opposition, and threatens to overthrow our dearest schemes, our most important plans then then, indeed, down with it and with herl no mercy! it were worse than childish to think of shewing any. As for La Sainte- Colombe, there we are safe ; the steward is gained, for, spite of the fool's scruples of conscience, his dread of losing his situation will compel him to serve us. I shall keep him, because he will answer my purpose better than a stranger ; and the veiy fact of his having lived here the last twenty years, will effectually prevent that ignorant and weak-minded Madame de la Sainte-Colombe from entertaining the slightest mistrust of him. Once let me place her in the hands of our protege of Roiville, and I will answer for the rest. The path of these stupid, worldly- minded females is uniformly the same : in their youth they serve the devil ; in mature age they lead others to serve him ; in their old age they live in horrible dread of him ; and this fear we must excite and THE CHATEAU DE CARDOVILLE. THE SHIPWRECKED. 169 work upon until we have induced her to bequeath to us the chateau de Cardoville, which, from its isolated position, would form an excellent college. Thus far, then, all works as we could wish it. As for the aft'air of the medals, we are fast approaching the 13th of February, and, by the last accounts from Joshua, Prince Djalma is doubtless still kept a prisoner by the English, in some distant part of India, otherwise I should have heard from Batavia; while the daughters of General Simon will be detained a month longer at Leipsic. Nothing can be better than all our exterior relations ; and as for the state of our homo affairs " M. Rodin was here interrupted by the entrance of Madame Du- pont, busily engaged in her benevolent preparations to receive her shipwrecked guests. " Now, then," said she, speaking to a stout servant who was assist- ing her, " light a good fire in the adjoining room, and set this warm wine on the hob ; we may expect your master's return every minute." " Well, my dear madam," said Rodin, "do you expect to save any of these poor creatures ? " " Indeed, sir, I cannot say ; my husband has been gone these two hours, and my knowledge of his undaunted courage and resolution, where there is any good to be done, makes me dreadfully uneasy : for, indeed, lie carries his daring spirit beyond the limits of prudence." " Ha!" muttered Rodin to himself; "courageous even to impru- dence! I like not that !" " And now," resumed Catherine, " I am putting fresh clothes and linen to air by the fires Heaven grant it may be but as serviceable as I wish it." " Let us at least hope that it will," answered Rodin, blandly. " I assure you, my dear madam, I felt considerable regret that neither my age nor my infirmities permitted me aiding your worthy husband in his labour of love. I equally regret being unable to learn the result of his exertions, and to congratulate him if successful, for I am unfortunately compelled to depart immediately my very moments are reckoned. May I beg of you to order my carriage to be got ready instantly." " Directly, sir," said Catherine, going. " One word, my dear, my excellent Madame Dupont. You are a woman of good sound sense and admirable judgment; I will, therefore, tell you that I have pointed out a way by which, if your husband chooses, he may continue to hold his present situation." " Is it possible!" exclaimed Catherine, in a glow of delight : then, clasping her hands, she added, " Oh, what thanks do we not owe you for your goodness I What would become of people at our age if my husband was to lose his present employment?" " I have only added two trifling conditions to my promise of ob- taining his further engagement here, and these conditions are mere nothings. However, I shall leave him to explain all that to you." " Ah, sir ! Heaven has sent you to save and to serve us I " " Nay, nay, you overvalue my poor services, which are only given on two conditions, as I before said." " Were there a hundred, we should most gratefully accept them I Think, for a moment, sir, what would become of us, were 170 THE WAKDBfttHG JEW. M. Dupont forced to leave his situation hero. Alas ! we must starve, for we have saved nothing ! " " I may reckon, I see, upon your kind co-operation in the matter; and for your husband's sake, and the interests of both of you, endea- vour to persuade him not to reject the only chance of escaping from instant dismissal." "Madam! mistress!" exclaimed a servant, rushing breathlessly into the chamber ; " master has returned ! " " Has he many persons with him ? " " No, madam : he is alone." " Alone ? Quite alone ? "