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 http://www.archive.org/details/daughtersofisenb01palm
 
 . THE, 
 
 DAUGHTERS 
 
 OP 
 
 ISENBERG. 
 
 A BAVARIAN ROMANCEi 
 
 IN FOUR VOLUMES, 
 
 VOL. 1,
 
 THE 
 
 DAUGHTERS 
 
 OF 
 
 ISENBEMGs 
 
 A BAVAJIIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 IN FOUR VOLUMES. 
 
 BY ALICIA TYNDAL PALMER, 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 ** The Husband and the Lover ^ 
 
 SimpiicKy of life, 
 And elegance, and taste ; the graceful form, 
 The look resistless, piercing to the soul, 
 And by the soul infonn'd, when drest in love 
 She sits high-smiling in the conscious eye. 
 
 Art taught the nymph a thousand wiles, 
 A thousand soft insidious smiles ; 
 Mirtii taught her roguish tongue to speak, 
 And form'a the dimple on her cheek; 
 iNor did tlie God of Wit disdain 
 To mingle in the winnuig train. 
 
 Form'd by the Graces; loveliness itself! 
 Come, with those down-cust eyes sedate and sweet, 
 Those mniest looks that deeply touch the soul, 
 Where, with the light of tliousjhtful reason mix'd, 
 Shines lively fancy and the teeang heart. 
 
 VOL. L 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED FOR LACKINGTON, ALLEN, AJfD CO, 
 TE.MPIE OF THE MUSES, FINSBURY SQUARE* 
 
 1810.
 
 TO 
 
 JOHN BURROWS, ESQ. 
 
 OF 
 KADLEY, 
 
 IN THE COUNrY OF MIDDLESEX, 
 
 Sir, 
 
 Confident that you will regard these 
 A'olumes with that indulgence, which 
 forms a strong feature in the character 
 of an enlarged and cultivated mind, 
 I confer on them distinction, and do 
 myself honor, by thus publicly offer- 
 ing them as a tribute of the high 
 esteem, with which I feel pleasure in 
 declaring myself, — 
 
 Sir, 
 Your truly obliged and 
 
 most obedient humble Servant, 
 The Author^
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 Whether protected by the light of 
 superior wisdom, or fettered by the dul- 
 ness of inferior intellects, I know not ; 
 but I had long continued invulnerable to 
 the epidemic power of the novel-writing 
 mania^ (which has of late spread itself 
 through all classes of society) when, in 
 an idle hour, I w^as one day tempted to 
 relax from the sober reading in which I 
 had hitherto engaged, by sending for a 
 parcel of these fashionable publications. 
 Heavens ! what was my surprise, on 
 looking over their title pages, to see
 
 iv PREFACE. 
 
 amofigst their authors Senators, Counsel' 
 lors, Doctors of Divinity ! !! — I instantly 
 felt seized with the prevailing influenza^ 
 and, resolving to enrol myself in the list 
 of so respectable a fraternity^ exclaimed, 
 (turning to a venerable old friend, who 
 had been hitherto the chief directer of my 
 studies) " There is nothing too little 
 for 60 Httle a creature as man/* said the 
 Colossus of Learning. -"^^ It is by study- 
 ing little things that we attain the great 
 art of having as httle misery and as much, 
 happiness as possible/^ — Since grave Se- 
 nators, whose duty it is to study the 
 good of the nation, and frame its laws — 
 learned Counsellors, whose profession it 
 is to expound them —and reverend 
 Divines, who are elected to watch 
 over its morals — seek relaxation from the
 
 PREFACE. V 
 
 severity of these weighty avocations in 
 fabricating zvorlcs of imaghiafion, why 
 should not /, insi^gnificant as I am, obey 
 the inclination with which I am inspired 
 to employ the leisure hours, of a com- 
 paratively idle station, in a maiiner so 
 honorably sanctioned b\' rank, iearnirig, 
 and genius ? 
 
 '* I have read,'^ observed my friend in 
 a sarcastic tone, "that a necromancer 
 once threw jnto a great metropolis a ball, 
 which he had endowed with such 
 magic powers, that every one, w^ithin 
 whose notice it rolled, w^as irresistibly 
 impelled to kick it; till, by the reiterated 
 strokes of the multitude, it was sent 
 bowling through the Suburbs, at the ex- 
 tremity of which was situated the gulph 
 of oblivion^ into whose unfathomable 
 
 abyss the enchanted bail was fmally 
 a 5
 
 yi PREFACE. 
 
 hurled. Meanwhile the magician tooK a; 
 .foolish pleasure in witn€ssiiig the loss of 
 time, of strength, and of labour, >vhich 
 had been expended by some of the coux- 
 muuity in ridding the city of his inofft ii- 
 »ive plaything; which,, liad it been suf- 
 fered to remain unmolested, might, per- 
 chance, have amused, in the examina- 
 tion of its curious construction, some 
 heavy moments of a part of the inhabi- 
 tants-^noments, that probably were 
 given to less innocent recreations. — Now, 
 flighty Madam, unless you can, in like 
 manner, find diversion in w^itnessing the 
 cuffs and kicks to which the creation of 
 your magic pen will assuredly be ex- 
 posed, till it is fairly rolled into thegulph 
 of oblivion — let me advise you to lay
 
 PREFACE. Vii 
 
 aside your extravagant intention of writ- 
 ing a Romance." 
 
 '' And why, Sir, should such be the 
 fcite of my Romance, if I contrive to make 
 an amusing tale the medium of instruc- 
 tion?'^ 
 
 " Do you flatter yourself,'' interrupted 
 ray w orthy censor, " that the plan of ren* 
 dering a Romance instructive will recom- 
 mend it to your readers ? Assuredly not; 
 for while the pride of some will revolt 
 from the idea of gleaning instruction from 
 a novely the \m^^2ii\e\\idevourers of jour, 
 storij will regard its introduction as a te- 
 dious interruption of its progress/' 
 
 '' True, my friend, if I stop the pro- 
 gress of my story to introduce dry dis- 
 quisitions — but my diligent endeavour, 
 on the contrary, shall be to make infor- 
 a 3
 
 Vm PREFACE. 
 
 mation, at limes, the medium of develop- 
 ing my characters — and at others, so 
 artfully to interweave it with my history, 
 that, if I can accomplish the plan I have 
 conceived, it shall form links of the great 
 chain which connects the whole — while 
 even m}^ apparently most trifling inci- 
 dent shall tend to the accomplishment 
 of my grand object.'' 
 
 '^■An easy undertaking, truly! — But 
 should you succeed in performing all 
 this, my female Quixote, what do you 
 expect will be your reward ? Rely on 
 the prophecy of one who knows more 
 of the world than yourself — it will bring 
 you little beside tribulat on, vexatioti, 
 and mortification/* 
 
 *^ Sir," said I, somewhat nettled at a 
 prognostic so disheartening, " you speak 
 
 1
 
 FR^FACE. ix 
 
 like one who is unacquainted with the 
 universal taste which prevails for this 
 species of pubhcation, otherwise you 
 would rather encourage, than seek to 
 repress, the honest attempt I meditate. 
 It is an indisputable fact, that there are 
 many persons who peruse no other kind 
 of books than novels and romances. — 
 Vainly do such as you decry them— 
 they are not the less eagerly sought after 
 on that account ; while those works, by 
 which you w^ould wish to see them sup- 
 planted, remain quietly on their shelves^ 
 undivested of their dusty honors. In 
 my humble opinion, therefore^ the au- 
 thor, who, for tlie benefit of the inex- 
 perienced, scatters amidst such popular 
 labours, by the aid of the examples her 
 characters offer, a few seeds of ziDh-dom^
 
 X PREFACE. 
 
 as well as of virtue, which they might not 
 elsewhere seek, does more real good to 
 this numerous class of society, than those 
 who content themselves with condemn- 
 ing works of imagination altogether, 
 without exerting their own superior abi* 
 lities to supply the place of what is now 
 become an almost indispensable amuse- 
 ment. I should therefore have been bet- 
 ter pleased to have found you disposed to 
 aid me by your kind and judicious criti* 
 cism, than resolved to dishearten me 
 from an undertaking, in which, should I 
 faily I shall still consider my attempt as 
 laudable. 
 
 A shrug, and the dropping of his 
 sharp chin upon the head of his cane ; 
 my friend's usual mode of expressing his 
 doubts of the practicability of a scheme
 
 rilEFACE. Xi 
 
 was his only answer ; and the usual con- 
 sequence of these symptoms of ques- 
 tioning my abilities had their customary 
 effect on me — that of piquing me into 
 assuming a confidence which, in reality, 
 I was far from possessing. With in- 
 creasing warmth, therefore, I added, " Sir, 
 I will so decorate my instruction with 
 flowers, as to beguile my most superficial 
 readers into the unconsciousness that 
 they are inhaling with their perfumes 
 the essence of wisdom/' 
 
 My venerable friend, perceiving that I 
 had already adopted the language of rp- 
 mance, was convinced it was hopeless 
 further to oppose me; and, vVith a long 
 emphatic hum — ph — quitted the room; 
 while I sat down to ponder, seriously, 
 on the great task I had now firmly re- 
 solved on undertaking.
 
 Xii PREFACE. 
 
 My difBculties grew on reflection ; 
 for reasoning on others, from the effect 
 the works I had lately perused had pro- 
 duced on myself, 1 became conscious, 
 that if I would save my labours from the 
 gulph of oblivion^ I must above all things 
 interest my reader. This I can never 
 do, said I, unless I make my personages 
 act their parts before him — rendering 
 him, as it were, the eye-witness of the 
 various operations of the passions on 
 their minds. I must not content my- 
 self with faintly sketching their outlines, 
 I must fill up, and give body to their 
 pictures — develope their different shades 
 of character — and pour tray to the life 
 each personage of my group, by as- 
 signing, to him or her, natural and ap- 
 propriate sentiments, and motives for
 
 PREFACE. Xiii 
 
 action; above all, I must endeavour to 
 avoid the common error of suffering the 
 spirit of my work to evaporate in the 
 J&rst volume, by gradually making it rise 
 in interest till I arrive at my catastrophe. 
 If I am so fortunate as to accomplish 
 these difficult tasks, my scenes will pos- 
 sess the force and power of reality^ and 
 by irresistibly seizing on the imagination 
 of my reader, make him mdispiitahhj my 
 debtor for the amusement they will af- 
 ford him. 
 
 Yet how, if I have not the skill to per^ 
 form all this ? 
 
 Then will my Romance be nothing 
 better than a dull tale, tdld by a prosing 
 narrator, over which my reader will 
 dose — and my worthy old friend triumph 
 in the truth of his prognostics I
 
 Xiv PREFACE. 
 
 With these dispiriting images disturb- 
 ing my fancy, and a pen unused to com- 
 position, nothing but rny constitutiona 
 obstinacy (which ever becomes invinci- 
 ble the moment my pride is piqued) 
 
 could have spurred me on to the first at- 
 tempt. I made it, however, in spite of 
 
 these gloomy suggestions and — " The 
 Husband and the Lover,^^ without the 
 sanction of my good old friend, was 
 launched into the ocean of criticism. 
 
 From this moment my mind be- 
 came haunted by the phantom of 
 this enchanted ball; for I then dis- 
 covered in my work many faults, of 
 which I had before no suspicion. It 
 was With trembling anxiety that I now 
 watched the first dreaded kick which 
 might impel towards the ohlivioiis gulph
 
 PREFACE. XV 
 
 a work which had cost me, in the ex- 
 ecution, many months of unremitting 
 labour. 
 
 Its reception, however, has been such 
 as has most sensibly and gratefully af- 
 fected the author; and, under its en- 
 couraging influence, she has with a 
 bolder pen attempted^ in " The Daugh- 
 ters of Isenberg,'' a greater diversity of 
 character. If her exhibition of the ver- 
 bose pedantry of Lady Marguerite — 
 the t^aptious humour and self-sufficiency 
 of Doctor Martimas — the eccentricities 
 of the mysterious Florio — the innate co- 
 quetry of Carenthea — or the inordinate 
 vanity and absurd affectation of Miss 
 Wanmore, can raise the smile of inno- 
 tent mirth in a part only of her headers, 
 while the more baneful defects in some
 
 Kvi PREFACE. 
 
 of her serious characters act as warnings 
 to others — she will esteem herself amply 
 rewarded for the studious zeal with 
 which (as far as it lay within the scope 
 of her abilities ) she has prosecuted her 
 arduous task, according to the rules she 
 laid down to herself in its composition.
 
 THE 
 
 DxlUGHTERS OF ISENBERa 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 Ir was on one of those etherial morn- 
 ings, when the gales bear on their play- 
 ful wings the sweets stolen from the 
 flowers of early summer, that the three 
 lovely daughters of the Baron Isen- 
 berg, were lightly tripping from the 
 pagode des bains towards the chateau- 
 of their father. 
 
 Not more sweetly glows the rose, 
 bathed in the early dew, than did the 
 pure tints which bloomed on their 
 polished cheeks, heightened as they 
 were by the cool element, from whence 
 they had just emerged. Youth, beauty, 
 grace, and innocence, breathed over 
 
 VOL, I. B
 
 S THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 each their magic charms, and perfected 
 those works, in the creation of which, 
 nature seemed to have exhausted her 
 fairest favors. 
 
 Well might the Baron contemplate 
 such lovely scions of his noble family 
 with proud exultation ; and the Baroness, 
 glory in these softened copies of them- 
 selves. 
 
 " Dear girls !*' ejaculated she (while 
 with her lord, she watched from her 
 boudoir their elastic steps, as arm in arm 
 they crossed the lawn immediately in 
 front of the chateau) — " may no cor- 
 rosive cares — no remorseful recollections, 
 ever depress those now guileless hearts, 
 nor obscure that charming sun -shine 
 which has hitherto illumined your loved 
 countenances 1 ^ 
 
 " Fear it not my Gertrude,'^ replied 
 the Baron tenderly. " Your children, 
 educated under your watchful eye, and 
 "with minds formed by one so excellent.
 
 OF ISENBERG* $ 
 
 must ever be regulated by those ad- 
 mirable precepts you have so assiduous- 
 ly inculcated/^ 
 
 The Baroness sighed deeply as she 
 said, " But the example / my lord ! 
 Are we not taught by divine writings 
 how superior is its efficacy to precept ?'^ 
 
 " And who has ever given one more 
 perfect, as a wife, a mother, and a 
 friend, than you ?^' asked the Baron, in 
 a voice expressive of the deep-rooted 
 affection with w^hich those virtues had 
 inspired him. 
 
 " AhRhodolph '/' replied the Baroness, 
 solemnl}'^, ," how widely has that being 
 erred, whom your partiality thus exalts ! 
 But heaven is more just than you, and 
 has taught me, in the trembling anxiety 
 it planted in my bosom, on becoming 
 myself a parent, the extent of the offence 
 I committed against mine, when I rashly 
 abandoned them. Alas ! did I not by 
 that act, inflict on them the wretched- 
 b2
 
 4 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 ness of feeling inflexible resentment 
 towards her, who was till then the bles- 
 sing of their lives ?'^ 
 
 The shade of regret which, during 
 this conversation dwelt on the fine fea- 
 tures of Madame Isenberg, vanished as 
 she returned the morning salutation of 
 the three channing girls, who stopped 
 for a short time under the window of her 
 "boudoir, before they entered the portico. 
 
 The Lady Marguerite, a maiden sister 
 of the Baron, and twenty years his 
 senior, traced the foundation of the noble 
 house of Isenberg to the time of Char- 
 lemagne. The first of that name having 
 greatly distinguished himself among 
 those heroes who accompanied that re- 
 nowned sovereign in all his wars against 
 the Saxons, he received (according to 
 the Lady Marguerite) the princely do- 
 mains of Isenberg, as a reward for his 
 faith and services. From this noblemau,
 
 -' OF ISENBERG. ^ 
 
 she maintained it had descended in a 
 rio'ht hne to her brother. 
 
 We will not dispute the correctness 
 of the lady Marguerite^s genealogical 
 chain— not one link of which, she has 
 been frequently heard to declare, ha-d 
 ever been broken or blemished, but give 
 her credit for being as just in her 
 heraldic knowledge, as in her apprecia- 
 tion of this dc'ir and valuable brother. 
 The tastPs end habits of their parents, 
 having ill accorded with those of the 
 grand-sire of the present possessor of 
 Isenberg, his father, within two years 
 after his marriage, had eagerly availed 
 himself of an opportunity which offered, 
 to reside some years in an honorable 
 official capacit}' in Enjilrmd ; and he had 
 quitted Bavaria, with hisftady and injltnt 
 dauG^ht*^r, in the resolution of never 
 carrying theui vigain to that seat till he 
 should be its sole master. 
 
 Although dislike of residing with the 
 
 B 3
 
 6 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 old Baron, reconciled the young couple 
 to what they regarded as a kind of 
 banishment from a country to which 
 they were both equally attached, they 
 preserved, during their absence from it, 
 in their domestic establishment, all its 
 customs and strict etiquettes ; the Lady 
 Marguerite therefore, at the age of ten, 
 when they were recalled to Germany by 
 the death of her grandfather, had already 
 inibibed all the pride and stiffness which 
 she could have done in the ancient halls 
 of Isenberg. 
 
 One circumstance alone marked her 
 having passed so large a portion of that 
 time, in which the mind usually receives 
 its characteristic bias, in a nation so 
 little tinctured with the prejudices of 
 iier own ; it was her knowledge of the 
 English language, which she spoke with 
 great facility, and understood better 
 than the German. 
 
 The Lady Marguerite had attained
 
 eP rSENBERG. T 
 
 her twentieth year, and had been con- 
 sidered as sole heiress to those estates 
 possessed by her father, which were un- 
 attached to the family title, when these 
 expectations were cut off by an event 
 w hich cost the Baroness her life. She 
 gave birth to a son ; a blessing so greatly 
 cov^eted by her lord, that it in some 
 measure coiisoled him for the price at 
 which it had let^n purchased ; while it 
 enabled his daughter equally to prove 
 the disinterestedness of her nature, and 
 the inordinate pride she took in the 
 glory of her house ; since ail selfish 
 regret for the loss of that consequence 
 she had so lonpr personally experienced, 
 was annihilated, by the consideration 
 that a male heir woukl preserve in her 
 own family the princely domain, and 
 highly prized title of Isenberg. 
 
 The young Rhodolph had scarcely 
 began to lisp his first imperfect accents, 
 when his father sought out, with pa- 
 u 4t -
 
 f THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 rental solicitude, some person worthy to 
 be intrusted with the formation of his 
 son's mind, that the task of instil'ing 
 into it the principles of virtue, might 
 begin from the very first dawn of reason. 
 The disadvantages he had himself ex- 
 perienced during his diplomatic employ- 
 ment in England, from his superficial 
 knowledge of the idioms of its language, 
 induced him to prefer a gentleman of 
 that iidtiuii OS a tutor for his heir ; and 
 he had the good fortune to procure one, 
 through the recommendation of a friend 
 he consulted there, eminently qualified 
 to perform the task assigned him. 
 
 Mr. Delmond, united to an elegantly 
 classic mind, remarkably pleasing man- 
 ners ; while his grave turn of character 
 and moral principles, rendered him, not- 
 ^withstanding his youth, so proper a 
 governor for the infant heir, that he 
 became a permanent resident with the 
 family of isenberg.
 
 or ISENteERG. 9 
 
 The Lady Marguerite, who was at 
 the period of his introduction nearly the 
 age of Dehnond, was neither insensible 
 to the merits, nor to the handsome 
 person of the young tutor: yet the 
 strict principles of German pride in 
 which she had been brought up, taught 
 her to consider the combating her 
 growing inclination, as a cardinal virtue. 
 
 The honor she some years after re- 
 ceived from the empress, while on hef 
 progress through that part of the empire, 
 was, during life, esteemed by her as a 
 reward emblematic of her conquest over 
 herseE 
 
 This honor, was the electing her 
 ladyship one of the " Slaves of Virtue ^^^ 
 a female order of knighthood, whose 
 badge was a gold medal representing 
 the sun, encompassed by a wreath of 
 laurel.* 
 
 * This order was instituted in IQQQ3 Ipy the 
 Empress Dowager Eleonora, 
 B 5
 
 10 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 The Lady Marguerite was from that 
 time superstitiously careful of never ap- 
 pearing without this badge, considering- 
 it a charm against a renewal of those de- 
 grading sentiments, which she was sen- 
 sible she had, for a time, unworthily 
 allowed to dwell in the bosom of one, 
 lineally descended iiom a hero of the 
 days of Charlem.agne ! 
 
 The tutor, though either too noble 
 minded, or too proud to tempt her to 
 deviate from the line of conduct pointed 
 cut by the prejudices of rank, was 3^et 
 so sensibly touched by her flattering par- 
 tiality, as never to have transferred his 
 affections to another ; and when time 
 had mellowed their love into esteem, he 
 became the faithful friend, the trusty 
 confidant, the able assistant of his kind, 
 but haughty mistress, in the great charge 
 assigned her by her father, who died 
 five years after the giving birth to the 
 present Baron, had carried his lady to 
 the grave.
 
 OF ISENBERG. 11 
 
 Pleased with the generous love she 
 bore the little being, who had cut her 
 off from an inheritance, long considered 
 as her certain right, her father appointed 
 the lady Marguerite, guardian to the in- 
 fant Rhodolph, and mistress of the do- 
 . mains of Isenberg, during his minority ; 
 adding to this advantage, a handsome 
 independent fortune. 
 
 This eccentric, but kind hearted 
 woman quitted, on the demise of her fa- 
 ther, her beloved sovereign, the electress 
 of Bavaria, to pass her harmless hfe in 
 assiduously performing to the young 
 Baron, the duties of a mother ; and 
 zealously endeavouring so to improve 
 her own mind, as to assist him through 
 the progress of his early studies. 
 
 The motives which instigated her lady- 
 ship to labour at becoming a scavante^ 
 w^ere so very amiable, that Delmond un- 
 der whose tuition she had placed her- 
 self, used every means within his powei- 
 b6
 
 15 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 to direct her choice to such studies as 
 he thought hkely to prove in future a 
 source of pleasure to herself; but un- 
 fortunately, nothing short of under- 
 standing Homer and Virgil, in their 
 original languages, could satisfy the 
 scholastic ambition of his female pupiL 
 
 Although the unwearied labour she 
 patiently bestowed, for the attainment of 
 this desired end, was not crowned with 
 the success her perseverance merited, it 
 inspired her with so decided a preference 
 for the English language, above her own, 
 that in the end, she never used any 
 other to those who understood it. 
 
 The reason her ladyship assigned to 
 Delrnondfora partiahty, so inconsistent 
 with her generally bigotted local attach- 
 ments, savored too much of pedantry, 
 to be satisfactory to one of his modest 
 nature. She remarked, that her own 
 vernacular tongue, not admitting those 
 derivatives from the ancients, which in
 
 OF ISENBERG. * 13 
 
 her opinion, so finely enriched that of 
 his country, appeared to her, on a com- 
 parison, unworthy the use of one, who, 
 like herself, aspired to an intimate ac- 
 quaintance with those immortal writers, 
 from whose pure source the Enghsh 
 drew so valuable a portion of their lan- 
 guage. 
 
 This topic was inexhaustible to the 
 lady Marguerite, who took especial care 
 to store her memory with such parts of 
 speech, as were entirely out of common 
 use; by interlarding her conversation 
 with which, she flattered herself every 
 person of erudition, who listened to her 
 discourse, must immediately penetrate 
 into her superior acquirements, since to 
 them alone, could they attribute her apt 
 apphcation of those learned words, de- 
 rived from the dead languages. 
 
 The lady Marguerite never suspected, 
 that her applications were not always so 
 admirably correct as she had taught her-
 
 14, THi: DAtK]^HTERS 
 
 self to believe, but that they at times 
 bore testimony, that as an etymologist 
 she was rather superficial. 
 
 Fully persuaded, (as she was wont to 
 tell Delmond) that the introduction of 
 rarely used derivatives gave sometimes 
 euphony— sometimes nexility to her 
 language, she little thought that at first 
 her adoption of them, proved a source 
 of uneasiness to that estimable man ; 
 time, however, reconciled him to this 
 one speck in her, othervv^ise, truly exem- 
 plary character, and at length he ceased 
 to be conscious of it. 
 
 The young Baron, at the age of seven- 
 teen, entered the army ; and after ac- 
 quiring m that school, a complete know- 
 ledge of the theory of military dut}^, he 
 set out on the tour of Europe, accom- 
 panied by his invaluable friend and 
 tutor, Delmond. 
 
 France, he reserved for the last place 
 of his visiting ; intending to pass some
 
 OF ISENBERG. l5 
 
 months in a court, at that tirne, con- 
 sidered as the emporium of all that could 
 pohsh and accomphsh men of sense and 
 fashion. 
 
 We will join him at his last stage to- 
 wards Paris, as the calm repose of even- 
 ing was beginning to steal over the face 
 of nature. 
 
 The youthful traveller had just issued 
 from the forest of Biev re, through which 
 he had slowly paced his steed, to give 
 his attendants time to overtake him, 
 w^hen his curiosity was excited, by a 
 loud and vehement altercation, which 
 caught his ear ; casting his eyes around 
 in search of the disputants, he perceived 
 an open carriage standing by the road 
 side. On making up to it, he found the 
 vehicle occupied by two ladies, appa- 
 rently suffering under the most agonizing 
 terrors. 
 
 At the door of the carriage, he beheld 
 a form of herculean mould, pressing
 
 16 The daughters 
 
 with one knee the breast of the driver, 
 who lay prostrate on the ground. The 
 assaulter, regardless of his groans, or the 
 ladies entreaties, grasped with one strong 
 hand the boot of the vehicle, while with 
 the other, by an impressive action, he 
 gave energy to an apparently temperate, 
 but earnest expostulation. 
 
 As the Baron approached, one of the 
 ladies passionately sohcited his pro- 
 tection against a man who had taken ad- 
 van tasje of the shameful absence of their 
 other servants, to insult them. Rho- 
 dolph instantly turned to the accused, 
 and in a tone of authoritative superiority, 
 ordered him to release the driver, and to 
 depart ; yet while he uttered this com- 
 mand, he considered it only as a chal- 
 lenge, not having the most distant idea, 
 that a mandate so imperiously given, 
 would be obeyed; for he had observed 
 that spirit and determmation marked the 
 countenance of the unknown, accom-
 
 OF I5ENBERO. 17 
 
 panic J by a nobility of air, wholly in- 
 consistent with the outrage he was com- 
 mitting. 
 
 To this haughty command the stranger, 
 with a calmness which astonished the 
 Baron, thus replied. " By your honor 
 as a gentleman — by your feeling as a 
 man, I call upon you to judge between 
 this lady and myself?" 
 
 " Thus invoked," said the Baron, ad- 
 dressing himself to the lady, "Thus in- 
 voked, I cannot refuse to listen, but fear 
 not. Madam, that any thing this gentle- 
 man may say, will induce me to quit 
 you, till you y^^/ yourself in safety. — 
 Sir,*' he added, turning to the offender. 
 " I wait your explanation." 
 
 The invoker of his arbitration, quitting 
 his hold of the carriage, pressed both 
 hands on his heart, as if to still its throbs,, 
 and in a voice full, but affecting, thu^ 
 began : 
 
 •' That lovely being who adorns the
 
 18 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 side of her mother, is mine by ever}^ law 
 human and divine. Two years since 
 these arms received her a beauteous 
 Ibride — never had the varying seasons of 
 the year beheld — never, never, will they 
 behold a more enchanting union. Our 
 home was like the heavens, abounding 
 in delight. To crown this height of 
 happiness, she gave me a copy of herself 
 —the sweetest pledge of Iotc that ever 
 blessed an enamoured pair. 
 
 "The cheeks of our babe were like the 
 leaves of the rose — her eyes like the 
 dewy light in which Aurora bathes it — 
 our hearts drank joy from the smiles of 
 her coral lips — and our ears harmony 
 from the cooing of her infant voice. By 
 such bliss was I exalted above mortality 
 —when. ' As the spirit seen in a dream 
 vanishes from our opening eyes — so fled 
 the sun-beam of my days.^ These 
 treasures of my soul were torn from this 
 bosom, their native home — and ever
 
 OF ISENBERG. 19 
 
 since, the earth has borne my weary 
 steps — the sun has hghted my wretched 
 wanderinsr — and the orb of ni^ht has 
 shone upon my fruitless search, till this 
 evening — this auspicious evening — when 
 suddenly I heard her voice breathing on 
 the air its music to melt and rejoice my 
 soul — and presently — oh! extmvagance 
 of bliss ! the lidit of her countenance 
 beamed upon me, ' like the moon tiom 
 the cloud of the east.' Nor men— nor 
 gods shall part us more ! he vehe- 
 mently added — at the same time spring- 
 ing forwards to clasp the fancied object 
 of his love and misery — ^but the Baron's 
 timely grasp prevented him. 
 
 The wild language of his rhapsodical 
 complaint, added to the supernatural fire 
 which now blazed from his eyes, con- 
 vinced Rhodolph that the noblest gift of 
 God had been wrecked in this hapless 
 wanderer's struggles with adversity. 
 
 The moment this conviction pressed
 
 fO THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 on his mind, prudence and humanity 
 dictated a temporizing conduct towards 
 the victim of misfortune ; and while the 
 maniac was again ardently pleading his 
 claims to the terrified young lady herself, 
 Rhodolph, in a low voice, communicated 
 to the Countess D'Aubiy, her mother, 
 the discovery he had made of his in- 
 sanity. 
 
 He intreated her t© confide in his 
 prudence, and by composing her owa 
 spirits, set an example of courage to her 
 daughter. Then addressing the maniac, 
 he expressed, in friendly language, his 
 sympathy in his wrongs — ^and his as- 
 surances that he would see them re- 
 dressed, provided he would allow the 
 ladies to depart ; on this condition he 
 offered himself to bear him company the 
 rest of the journey. 
 
 The fit of tender melancholy was now 
 past — and with it, the feeble spark of 
 reason which had enabled the unfor*
 
 OF ISENBERG. 2-1 
 
 tunate to speak with calmness. At the 
 first mention of parting with the being, 
 he beheved to be his wife, frenzy, the 
 wildest and most ungovernable that had 
 ever deformed the human mind, took 
 entire possession of his senses —and but 
 for the superiority of skill which reason 
 gave the Baron, over the gigantic 
 strength of madness, instead of con- 
 quering the maniac, he must have be- 
 come his victim. 
 
 The contention was, however, sus- 
 tained with such persevering vaiour on 
 his part, that he had thrown his antago- 
 nist to the ground, just, as Delmond, 
 and his own suite of servants appeared 
 in si^ht. 
 
 On coming up they assisted with the 
 now courageous driver, in binding the 
 noble wanderer, over the necessity of 
 which ignoble treatment, the Baron's 
 humane heart bled; and with painful 
 reluctance he consigned him to the care 
 of his tutor, arid two of his attendants ;
 
 3S THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 while he offered himself as a guard to 
 the ladies, till they should reach their 
 home. 
 
 On the Countess's gratefully accept- 
 ing his offer, he gave his horse to his 
 servant, and stepping into the carriage, 
 took his place beside her. In this situ- 
 ation he had an opportunity of observing 
 at leisure the persons of his new ac- 
 quaintances. 
 
 The Countess was tall, handsome, and 
 majestic — her manners pohshed and en- 
 gaging — but — her daughter ! — she was 
 in the eyes of Isenberg the perfection of 
 female loveliness 1 like her mother she 
 was tall — graceful, and slight, almost to 
 fragility ; her dark eyes expressed, even 
 under the influence of terror, strength 
 of mind, softened by gentleness of 
 temper — while the ever varying shades 
 of the pale rose of her cheek testified 
 that she did not owe her gentleness to 
 want of sensibility. 
 
 This last observation the Baron made
 
 ©F ISENBERG. 25 
 
 on an improved acquaintance ; for during 
 their drive, terror had blanched to mar- 
 ble whiteness her Grecian face, and si- 
 lenced the soft tones of her sweet voice 
 — whose sound the Baron felt an ardent 
 desire to hear. 
 
 Socrates once said to a boy, " Speak 
 that I may see you/^ Ilhodoiph in this 
 instance felt hke Socrates — and anxious- 
 ly watched to catch the accents of Ger- 
 trude. Vainly he watched. Once, and 
 once only, she attempted to speak ; the 
 Baron, instantly suspended his breath 
 fearful of the sound escaping him — but 
 her quivering lips closed again, unable 
 to articulate a word. 
 
 On arriving at the hotel, D'Aubry, 
 the Countess beggecl the gallant Rho- 
 dolph, would allow her the pleasure of 
 introducing him to her lord, as the de- 
 liverer of his wife and daughter. The 
 Baron felt too much for the agitated state 
 of Gertrude^s spirits, not to fear that the
 
 S-i THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 presence of a stranger might add to the 
 emotions which would be renewed, in 
 relating the alarming circumstances 
 which had introduced him to their ae- 
 qviaiu lance ; requesting, therefore, to be 
 excused from paying his respects to the 
 Count till the following day, he took 
 his leave, saying as he did so, that he 
 hoped to briiig at that time, some satis- 
 factory intelhgence respecting the dis- 
 posal of the wTetched maniac ; and an 
 introduction through the Marquis de 
 Saintville, that should prove him entitled 
 to the honor and happiness so flatter- 
 ingly offered him. 
 
 The next morning, Rhodolph was 
 grieved and disappointed, at finding that 
 Gertrude was so ill, in consequence of 
 her alarm the preceding day, as to be 
 unable to quit her room ; but the Coun- 
 tess full of grateful acknowledgements 
 for his services, would not allow him to 
 depart, till he had also received the
 
 OF" ISENBERG 25 
 
 thanks of the Count D'Aubry, who en- 
 tered soon after, and expressed his sense 
 of their obhgation, with all the warmth 
 -which a very high idea of the benefit 
 conferred could alone inspire. The 
 Count who was truly the nobleman in 
 his appearance, possessed a heart and 
 mind corresponding with that dignity ; 
 but his character was blemished by one 
 dark shade, which sombred many of his 
 after years, and rendered him a prey to 
 wretchedness. 
 
 This shade was an unbending mind— 
 which when once resolved on any point, 
 no consideration of love, friendship, or 
 interest, could ever induce him to forego^ 
 or deviate one line from the stubborn 
 maxims of his own inflexible mind. 
 
 Rhodolph's generous heart sighed, as 
 he informed the countess—- in answer 
 to her enquiries respecting the unfortu- 
 nate maniac — that he was safely lodged 
 in the house of confinement fi-om whence 
 
 VOL. !• c
 
 ^6 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 he had lately effected his escape. That he 
 had discovered him to be the young Vi- 
 compte de Valdore, who having married 
 beneath the dignity of his family, had on 
 the discovery of his union, been sent by 
 the power of his friends to the Bastille — 
 that during this punishment, his wife w^as 
 arrested and carried to a convent, where 
 she was compel led to assu me the veil . The 
 infant had not long survived the happi- 
 ness of its parents, and the wTetched 
 father, was restored to liberty, only to be 
 informed that he had no longer a wife, or 
 child. This terrible stroke following so 
 immediately on his depressive imprison- 
 ment, threw* him into a fever, which 
 ultimately fixed on his brain, and ren- 
 dered him a miserable maniac for life ! 
 
 "But he has ever retained ,^^ continued 
 the Baron, " the idea that he shall one 
 day again meet his wife, whose death 
 he no longer beheves. This delusion, 
 so consoling to himself, makes him fancy
 
 OF ISENBERG Hf 
 
 he has found his Pauhne in every young 
 and lovely female he encounters/^ 
 
 Soon after Rhodolph had finished his 
 sad narration, he arose to depart; but 
 he was not suffered to go, till he had re- 
 ceived the most pressing invitation from 
 his grateful hosts, to consider their house 
 as his own, during his residence in 
 France. 
 
 The Baron was on the next day pre- 
 sented at court, from whence he again 
 repaired to the hotel of his new friends 
 — but Gertrude was still invisible. Dis-» 
 appointed of the pleasure he so ardently 
 desired, that of conversing with the 
 sweet creature whose person had made 
 so lively an impression on his fancy-— 
 he endeavoured to divert his miad by 
 employing himself in visiting the differ- 
 ent curiosities of Paris during his morn- 
 ings, and partaking of its amusements 
 in the evening. A few days after his 
 appearance at court, he accompanied his 
 c3
 
 ^§ THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 friend, de Saintville, to the play, and had 
 the happiness of seeing in a box oppo- 
 site that they had entered, the interest- 
 ing being to whom he had happily ren- 
 dered a service of so much importance. 
 
 He instantly hastened to the box, and 
 was greeted by her parents with kind- 
 ness. It was by the Count's invitation 
 that he took his seat by the side of his 
 daughter ; with whom he soon entered 
 into conversation, which while it offered 
 him an opportunity of displaying some 
 of the powers and virtues of his own 
 mind, dre^v into play those congenial 
 treasures which adorned the character of 
 the lovely Gertrude. 
 
 When she first spoke, it was with be- 
 witching timidity — for she ventured an 
 opinion in opposition to her mother's : — 
 but it was/ accompanied by a look of 
 such sw^eet deprecation, and expressed 
 in a voice so melodious, that the Baron's 
 whole heart felt their influence.
 
 OF ISENBERG ^ 
 
 From this time he spent part of every 
 day at the hotel of his noble friends, and 
 and every day became more and more 
 attached to the accomplished Gertrude, 
 in whose pleasures and pursuits he de- 
 lighted to mingle ; — nor could he with- 
 out rapture perceive that he gained 
 ground in her esteem and affection.-^ 
 Thus feeling, he allowed himself to in- 
 dulge in those visions of happiness, 
 which youth fondly believes are decked 
 with unfading flowers. 
 
 One evening, while walking with de 
 Saintville, he became ^o rapt in one of 
 these enchanting reveries, that he was 
 wholly unconscious of having a com- 
 panion, when he was suddenly roused 
 by the marquis's abruptly addressing 
 him in a rallying tone with——" Your 
 visits there, my friend,^' pointing to the 
 hotel D'Aubry — " are too frequent.^' 
 
 " Not too frequent, de Saintville — 
 not too frequent,^^ he repeated with
 
 so THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 earnestness, " for I have the happiness'^' 
 '. — ^and as he spoke his face glowed with 
 pleasure at the conviction, " I have the 
 happiness of feehng that whenever I 
 present myself, I am most cordially wel- 
 <iome.'* 
 
 " And you deserve to be so," return- 
 ed his companion ; " but are you — par- 
 don me my friend — ^are you not acting 
 the part of the simple moth, who flut- 
 ters around the flame, till he falls a vic- 
 tim to his temerity ?" 
 
 "I donot Jlutter^^^ rejoined Rhodolph 
 with warmth. " I have embosomed the 
 flame, and hymen will, I trust, by hal- 
 lowing the devotion my heart pays it, 
 save it from the destruction you fear.'^ 
 
 The marquis turned eyes of doubt 
 and commiseration upon. Rhodolph, as 
 he exclaimed in a voice of interest, 
 *' I hope to God you are not serious ?" 
 
 " Not serious,^' hastily repeated the 
 Baron, *' have a care — you alarm— you 
 raise horrible fears — — ^'
 
 OF ISENfiERG. $1 
 
 " Not of me !" said de Saintville, in- 
 stantly catching the jealous meaning of 
 his words! " / have no claims — no 
 wishes, respecting the amiable Gertrude; 
 
 — but there is one. This is no place" 
 
 he added, suddenly checking himself, 
 " for an explanation/* 
 
 Saying this, the marquis led the dis- 
 tressed Rhodolph to his own hotel; 
 where with much tenderness he disclosed 
 to him the sad truth, that Gertrude had 
 been, from her cradle, destined by her 
 parents for the nephew of the Count 
 D'Aubry, Hubert de Crevecoeur ; a 
 youth reported to be every way deserv- 
 ing the parental care bestowed on him 
 by his uncle. That he was the next day 
 expected to return from his travels, on 
 which he had spent four years ; and that 
 his marriage with his cousin, was to be 
 celebrated immediately on his arrival. 
 
 De Saintville paused, and Rhodolph 
 continued, apparently, listening long 
 c4.
 
 3S THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 after his friend had ceased to speak ; 
 when without uttering a word, he quit- 
 ted the hotel motioning de Saintville not 
 to follow him. 
 
 That night appeared an eternity to 
 the unhappy Rhodolph, and scarcely 
 had the sun risen above the horizon the 
 following morning, when he sought the 
 gardens of the hotel D'Aubry. 
 
 Gertrude overcome by the sudden 
 determination her cousin had formed, 
 of returning much sooner than his 
 former letters had mentioned, passed the 
 night with as little tranquillity; and 
 feeling equally desirous of quitting her 
 restless couch, appeared at the same 
 moment on the terrace. 
 
 She started at seeing Rhodolph, a 
 sense of impropriety in thus meeting the 
 Baron at such early day, unattended, in- 
 stigated her immediate return to the 
 house; but the keen apprehension of 
 love, made Rhodolph guess her in ten-
 
 OF ISKNBERG. S3 
 
 tion, and he exclaimed with passionate 
 vehemence : " I know all — but do not 
 fly me — Ah ! do not cruelly add to the 
 misery of my fate, that of depriving me 
 of this precious opportunity of telhng 
 yoUj that I adore you- — that I die if you 
 give yourself to another. — Oh ! speak — 
 say your heart refuses to sanction the 
 pretensions of de Crevecoeur ?^' 
 
 It was sometime before Gertrude could 
 summon resolution to answer this ab- 
 rupt avowal of his sentiments ; at length, 
 in a low and timid accent she said — 
 " Alas ! I am not allowed a choice ; 
 in this country heiresses are generally the 
 victims of the ambitious views of their 
 families, in fulfilling the decrees of mine 
 — I shall be one, but it is my duty to 
 obeyV^ 
 
 " Ah cruel Gertrude ! — say rather 
 that the tenderness of the unfortunate 
 Rhodolph, has been unable to penetrate 
 c^
 
 84 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 a bosom, too cold to share the sentiments 
 It inspires 1" 
 
 " I ought perhaps to leave you in so 
 favourable an error," returned Gertrude, 
 much affected ; " but I feel too pain- 
 fully your suspicions to give you up to 
 their chiUing influence; you are unjust 
 Rhodolph ; yet fly me — your absence is 
 necessary to enable me to act consistent- 
 ly with my filial principtes/' And as 
 she spoke she quitted the terrace, with 
 a precipitation which eluded the endea- 
 vours of the Baron to stay her. 
 
 Surprise, hope, fear, and joy, tor some 
 hours took alternately the lead in the 
 heart of Rhfjclolph. 
 
 '* I am loved then V he at length 
 exclaimed, " what happiness ! — -let me 
 banish every other consideration — what 
 of felicity can this world ofler beyond 
 that conviction : possessing it. what 
 miseiy can I fear V'
 
 OF ISENBF.RG. S5 
 
 As he reflected on the words, the tone, 
 the air, with which • ertrude had quitted 
 him, he was confirmed in the behef that 
 he possessed her affections ; and this de- 
 lightful assurance, by degrees, filled his 
 heart with those delicious transjSorts 
 which are never felt but once, yet are 
 they perhaps the most pure — the most 
 ecstatick pleasures Heaven can bestow 
 on man ! Love, who had thrown him 
 into the enchanting reverie, which kept 
 him long wandering in the grounds of 
 D'Aubry, now wliispered that time's 
 broad wings might outstrip his light 
 and tender plumes, if suffered to gain 
 upon him, by irresolution. 
 
 Roused by the hint, the Baron hast- 
 ened home, with the determination of 
 devoting every thought to the improving 
 that advantage, Gertrude's unguarded 
 discovery of her partiality, had given him 
 over her. 
 
 On his arrival at his hotel, he found 
 c6
 
 S6 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 there, a note of invitation from the Count 
 D'Aiibry to pass the day with him. 
 That nobleman, who was wholly unsus- 
 picious of the attachment which sub- 
 sisted between his daughter and Rho- 
 dolph, greatly esteemed and delighted in 
 the society of the latter. 
 
 On his obeying his summons, the 
 Count informed him, that the Countess 
 wished to consult with him respecting a 
 little fete, by which she meant to cele- 
 brate the return of his nephew on the 
 following day. " The Countess,^^ he 
 continued, " has conceived the fancy of 
 playing oft une petite ruse upon Cre- 
 veeoeur, by dressing Gertrude, and two 
 of her friends, who much resemble her in 
 height and figure, as Aglaia, Thalia, and 
 Euphrosyne ; and she means to give my 
 nephew to understand, that he can no 
 otherwise prove himself a faithful vo- 
 tary of the purple winged God, than by 
 discovering, through the bandage of
 
 OF ISENBERG. 3? 
 
 that deity, the lady, to whom he has de- 
 voted his heart.'^ 
 
 " Admirable idea!'^ said Ilhodolph, 
 a thought flashing across his mind, which 
 made his bosom throb with tumultuous 
 emotion — but recovering himself, he 
 added calmly. " I think, my lord, it 
 would very much heighten the effect, if 
 Cupid was to introduce the graces to the 
 choice of this modern Paris. That 
 beautiful little island which embellishes 
 a branch of the river that flows beneath 
 the colonade, must be his paphos ; and 
 when splendidly illuminated, will pro- 
 duce a strikins: effect." 
 
 " We will leave entirely to your 
 taste," replied the Count, " the settling 
 these matters ; so give your own orders, 
 and I am sure they will be such as the 
 Countess must approve." 
 
 This compliment, expressed in a voice 
 of confiding kindness, gave a pang to 
 Rhodolph, which made him gladly
 
 S8 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 (under pretence of forwarding the pre*' 
 parations ) quit the presence of a noble- 
 man, \Yhose confidence and hospitahty 
 he intended so cruelly to abuse ; and 
 till he had conjured up the soul-harrow* 
 ing idea of Gertrude's becoming in a 
 few hours the wife of another, he found 
 it impossible to divest himself of the 
 severe feelings of remorse, which had 
 assailed him. 
 
 In the retirement of her own cham- 
 ber, Gertrude, in the mean time, expe- 
 rienced not less of compunction, at 
 havino^ so s^reatlv deviated from the de- 
 licacy of her sex, as to allow her af- 
 fection to appear to its object, while her 
 hand was engaged to another. Her 
 strict sense of propriety magnified this 
 imprudence into a crime, and she re- 
 solved to conquer a weakness at which 
 she blushed, by the severest penance — 
 that of avoiding in future all private 
 meetings with the author of her fault.
 
 OF ISENEEHO. 35 
 
 Love, laughed at these resolves ; and 
 the next day slyly hovering over her 
 toilet, beguiled the unconscious girlj 
 into decking lierself in all those charms^, 
 so calculated to banish every vestige of 
 compunction from the breast of Rho-* 
 dolph, and to expose to an unequal 
 contest, her own resolution. 
 
 This object of Isenberg's first and last 
 affection, was dressed in a robe of the 
 fmest, whitest crape, confined beneath 
 the bosom by a zone of pearls. The 
 tresses of her dark and silken locks were 
 bound on her polished forehead by lilies 
 of the valley^ — and thus simply attired 
 for the fete, she looked — she moved — - 
 she smiled (in spite of self-reprehension) 
 the character she assumed. 
 
 Vain were her endeavours to shun 
 the anxious, watchful Rhodolph — he 
 caught a moment of privacy to say — 
 " Is it to make me feel with ten -fold 
 keeness my misery, that you have stolen
 
 40 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 a charm from each grace to swell the 
 triumph of my too happy rival? In 
 giving your faith, 3^our love, to the en- 
 vied Crevecoeur veil — in pity veil, from 
 the unfortunate Rhodolph, this tender, 
 this unnecessary anxiety to do honor to 
 his choice 1 '^ 
 
 Gertrude's eyes timidly sought the 
 ground, on meeting the intreating looks 
 of the Baron, and she faintly said, in a 
 voice which betmyed her feelings. 
 "Would that I felt for you no other 
 sentiment but pity ; then should I not 
 experience this agonizing struggle, be- 
 tween duty and inclination. Ah ! why 
 have you caused it, by seeking to inspire 
 sentiments, unhallowed by the blessing 
 of my parents P' 
 
 Encouraged by the certainty that he 
 was beloved, it was with all the energy 
 of a cultivated and impassioned mind, 
 that the lover pleaded his cause. 
 
 Silenced by his eloquence, the still
 
 OF ISENBERG. 41 
 
 voice of conscience spoke not, in the 
 bosom of Gertrude; who, forgetful of 
 her better resolutions of the morning, 
 consented, ere they separated to meet 
 him in the grove, during the entertain- 
 ment of the evening. 
 
 As the moon slowly rose from her 
 watery bed, throwing over the enchant- 
 ing scenery of D'Aubry her placid ra- 
 diance, myriads of artificial stars in- 
 stantly appeared to catch light from her 
 brightness, and gave to the castle, 
 grounds, and water, the softened bril- 
 liance of an Itahan evening. 
 
 The grove alone, remained in shade, 
 while the little island, appeared one 
 blaze of richly studded diamonds. 
 
 Soon after the Countess and her friends 
 had repaired to the gardens, a general 
 buz arose, as the arrival of Crevecoeur 
 was announced ; and in a short time 
 after, he was led to the feet of Madame 
 D'Aubry, by his delighted uncle.
 
 49 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 The first ceremonials over, he impa* 
 tiently intreated to be conducted to his 
 lovely cousin ; but the smiling Coun* 
 tess, acquainting him of the device she 
 had formed, by way of making trial of 
 his penetration, added, that he must 
 controul his eagerness till the agreed on 
 signal. 
 
 While she was yet speaking it was 
 given ; and the whole party immediately 
 following the sound of some admirably 
 executed airs, w^ere led by their charmed 
 senses to the rivers bank, opposite the 
 island, from whence the music pro- 
 ceeded. 
 
 On this imaginary Paphos, they be- 
 hold a winged boy, attended by several 
 nymph-like figures approach its shore — 
 they enter a bark — and a chorus of fine 
 voices, proclaim the approach of the 
 god of love, leading'in captivity the rosy 
 hours, whose bondage is to last, till the 
 son of Venus has confirmed the choice 
 ♦f bis newly arrived votary.
 
 Of ISENBERG. 45 
 
 All Stand fixed in delighted expecta- 
 tion, as the bark slowly advances to- 
 wards the banks of D'Aiibry, the rip- 
 pling stream mingling its gentle cadence 
 with the simple notes of the softly- 
 breathing: flute. 
 
 Now it touches the mossy bank, and 
 the celestial navigator with airy step, 
 lights on the terrace — the boat disap- 
 pears, and Cupid summoning the Graces, 
 they modestly advance. He presents 
 them to the agitated Crevecoeur, who 
 after alternately regarding the lovely 
 trio, for a few moments makes his choice, 
 the lady unmasks — she is — not Gertrude. 
 
 Instantly, as by magic, darkness 
 spreads itself over the island, and Cupid 
 is heard to pronounce. " You chuse no 
 more, till the moon sinks to rest. Such 
 is the punishment decreed to blindness 
 of heart." 
 
 While the attention of the whole com- 
 pany was thus pleasingly fascinated, the
 
 44' THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 trembling and imprudent Mademoiselle 
 D'Aubry (whose place as one of the 
 graces was supplied by an obliging friend) 
 faithful to her promise, was seeking the 
 grove, in whose recesses awaited the 
 impatient Isenberg. 
 
 Young and presumptuous female ! 
 who in the self-confidence of your own 
 resolution, rashly persuade yourself you 
 may venture to overstep the bounds of 
 duty and decorum, provided you are 
 pre-determined speedily to regain the 
 safe path from whence you have strayed, 
 attend to the event of Gertrude's breach 
 of final confidence, who would have 
 died, rather than engage her promise to 
 meet Rhodolph, had she been aware of 
 all the consequences to which that 
 meeting led. Immoveably fixed, as she 
 believed, on taking of him, that evening 
 an eternal farewell, her thoughts were 
 too deeply occupied in considering how 
 she could best soften to him a misfortune
 
 OF ISEX3ERG. 45 
 
 which she deemed inevitable, to allow 
 her calculating on the probability of her 
 maintaining her own firmness, when op- 
 posed to the eloquent pleadings with 
 which love and despair alternately in- 
 spired the Baron. 
 
 His heart palpitated with joy, as even 
 amidst the thick shades of the grove, he 
 perceived her white robe floating in the 
 breeze, and caught the sound of her 
 light footstep ! for his hopes whispered, 
 that he had now conquered the most 
 formidable difficulty which he feared 
 might impede the accomplishment of 
 that plan, to which he had rendered the 
 device of the evening fete wholly sub- 
 servient. 
 
 Animated by the fond belief that she 
 would not be long deaf to his pleadings, 
 he threw himself at her feet, and in the 
 most touching language, passion is ca- 
 pable of inspiring, painted to her imagi- 
 nation the grief and wretchedness to
 
 46 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 which she would abandon him, in re- 
 jecting the only expedient by which 
 he could secure their mutual happiness. 
 
 He urged her by every tender claim 
 Tier affection gave him, to seize the golden 
 opportunity the present moment offered 
 them to effect their escape in Cupid *s 
 bark, and permit his conducting her to 
 the little island, where a boat was in 
 waiting to carry them down the Seine 
 to Paris. 
 
 At that place, he informed her, eveiy 
 preparation was already made for the im- 
 mediate performance of that ceremony 
 which would give him af legal right to 
 be, henceforth, her protector. Isenberg, 
 as he perceived her reluctance yielding 
 to his warm persuasions, with gentle 
 force conducted her unwilling steps to*- 
 wards the spot where lay the boat. 
 
 As she proceeded through the grove, 
 the voice of merriment grew fainter and 
 fainter; till' it became so indistinct, that
 
 OP ISENBERG. 4/ 
 
 it was merely at intervals borne on the 
 unsteady gale of evening, and came to 
 her ear in bursts, which conscience re- 
 presenting as the sudden shout of sur- 
 prise and consternation, suggested to the 
 terrified imaginatfon of Gertrude, that 
 her evasion was already discovered. 
 
 The Baron, perceiving that she could 
 not without difficulty support her sink- 
 ing frame — yet feeling that every mo*- 
 ment of delay threatened his hopes with 
 ruin, y'entured to take her in his arms, 
 and rapidly bore her to the extremity of 
 the grove; there gently quitting her, he 
 paused to listen if her fears were well 
 founded, but all was silent, no sound 
 broke the stillness which reigned around, 
 save the measured dashing of the water, 
 on which he now perceived, inviting his 
 approach, the bark of Cupid. 
 
 As he souofht to lead to it the much 
 distressed Gertrude, he observed, while 
 the moon beams fell strongly on her
 
 4S THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 face, that her eyes, full of tenderness, 
 and overflowing with tears, were fixed 
 on the colonade, still visible through a 
 vista of the wood. It was a farewell 
 look, at that building which contained 
 those dear beings, she was thus rashly 
 forsaking — never, perhaps, to behold 
 them more. 
 
 Overwhelmed with the grief this pre- 
 sentiment caused ; she exclaimed in a 
 suffocated voice — " Oh ! my mother — 
 shall I ever be permitted to retu'i <, and 
 if not — can joy be again restored to thy 
 afflicted heart ? When I am gone, will 
 not the place where thou hast fondly 
 watched over the infancy of thy Ger- 
 trude, become to thee in future a dreary 
 solitude ? Oh, horrible idea ! No, Rho- 
 dolph, no, I cannot doom that dear 
 mother, to weep over my deviation from 
 the duty 1 so justly owe her — I feel that 
 if I go, I carry with me, her future 
 peace — my desertion will cloud her days 
 with hopeless sorrow."
 
 •P ISENBERG. 4f 
 
 *' And is the happiness of my future 
 days," said Rhodolph, in accents half 
 tender, half reproachful — *' Is my hap- 
 piness, Gertrude, a subject of indiffer- 
 ence to you^ — would you consign this 
 devoted heart to despair, to torture ; this 
 heart whose only crime is loving you ? 
 If you could live in the arms of another^ 
 and know that you have blasted all his 
 youthful prospects and condemned to 
 misery him, who wishes life only that 
 he may devote it to you— if all the soft- 
 ness of your heart is forgotten — if it 
 retain no sense of the blissful hopes it 
 lately gave — return to the happy Cre- 
 vecoeur ! 1 no longer oppose your 
 abandoning the unfortunate — the de- 
 ceived — the distracted Rhodolph, to 
 wander henceforth through the joyless 
 world, a prey to all the endless torments 
 of ill-requited love." 
 
 *' Oh, Isenberg!" exclaimed Ger- 
 trude ; '' rack not my soul by such keen 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 50 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 — such unjust reproaches ; thou know- 
 est 1 love thee — the moment of irreso- 
 lution is past — ^l3ut deny not to my over- 
 charged bosom the rehef of breathing a 
 few sighs — of shedding a few tears of 
 tributary affection and regret to those I 
 sacrifice to you /^ 
 
 " Hark '/' said Rhodolph, dreading a 
 second access of sorrow ; " heard you 
 not approaching steps ? Fly, fly, or we 
 ure lost — we are separated for ever.^' 
 
 The bewildered Gertrude, after cast- 
 ing her fearful looks around, wildly threw 
 herself into the Baron's arms, who 
 raising her to his bosom, conveyed her 
 with anxious speed to the cave, under 
 ■which he had, on the disembarking of 
 Cupid, moored his little barge. 
 
 Lifting her into it, he paddled to the 
 island, where tenderly removing her into 
 the vessel awaiting them, their well 
 plied bars soon enabled them to Teach 
 the Seine, into whose majestic stream 
 
 I
 
 OF ISENBERG. 6t 
 
 the smaller river which adorned the 
 Count's grounds emptied itself. 
 
 As they floated gently down its rolling 
 waters, favored by the current, love and 
 pity again gave way in the h^art of 
 Gertrude, to filial affection, remorse and 
 fear. In every breeze she heard her fa- 
 ther's dread voice — -in every flying 
 cloud, which cast its dark «hade on the 
 w^ater, she saw the form of a pursuing 
 boat. To her oft repeated question of, 
 " Saw you that figure on the bank ? 
 Heard you that call from the wood ?'* 
 The Baron, with passionate earnestness 
 replied — '' In pity to.'iny feelings, sub- 
 due these groundless fears — be assured 
 that you may trust to an excess of ten- 
 derness, which while in doubtful pos- 
 session of my heart's treasure, doubles 
 the keeness of every sense. Believe 
 me — not a shadow — aot a foot fall -—not 
 a whisper can now escape ny anxious 
 watchfulness. Calm then, my Ger^ 
 
 D 2 tai;^;:Mh^ 
 
 ^jmamn ^r mmm
 
 (52 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 trude, this agonizing perturbation — have 
 courage to listen — to look around you — » 
 mark how love, has with protecting pity, 
 hushed the winds — veiled the brightness 
 of the moon with ebon clouds — and 
 turned the wilful current in our course, 
 to silence our betraying oars. 
 
 *' He will perfect his beneficient work, 
 my Gertrude, and in pleading for a 
 daughter's pardon in a father's bosom, 
 he will whisper that her conduct defeats 
 no just views — ^braves no parental rights 
 —since in rank — in fortune — and in 
 love, her Rhodolph is superior to the 
 husband of his choice/* 
 
 This impassioned address produced on 
 Gertrude the effect desired ; it soothed 
 her perturbation, and prepared her on 
 her arrival at Paris, to receive Avith some 
 portion of fortitude the nuptial bene- 
 diction. 
 
 Immediately after the ceremony, the 
 anxious Baron departed with his bride
 
 OP ISENBERG* 65 
 
 for his own princely domains, where he 
 deemed it prudent to remain till he had 
 procured the necessary dispensation from 
 the Pope, to legalize a union contracted 
 without the consent of the Baroness's 
 parents. 
 
 This indulgence from his Holiness ob- 
 tained, the nuptial ceremony was again 
 performed in the chapel of Isenberg, 
 and Gertrude was irrevocably confirmed 
 his wife. 
 
 But peace accompanied not security 
 in the bosom of the Baroness ; she had, 
 on the first moment, she could snatch, 
 during their flight, written to her of* 
 fended parents, supplicating with the 
 utmost humility their pardon for the 
 bold step she had taken, and intreating 
 their permission for herself and lord to 
 endeavour by their presence, to depre- 
 cate the just anger her conduct had 
 drawn on them. This letter was fol- 
 lowed by many others, breathing filial 
 d3
 
 54 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 affsction, and pouring forth her grief 
 and contntion, but no answer was re- 
 turned to cheer her drooping heart. At 
 length a pacquet from France was pre- 
 sented to her — with breathless eagerness 
 she broke the seal — it cont^ised her 
 own letters unopened — accompanied by 
 one from Crevecoeur, which at once cut 
 off all hope of her being again received 
 into the paternal arms. 
 
 The Count D'Aubry had charged him 
 to inform her, that though he once pos- 
 sessed a daughter, he had torn her from 
 his heart for ever, and that her mother 
 participated in his wrathful feelings. 
 De Crevecoeur, with kindness added, 
 that he would w^atch the moment of 
 awakening nature in her father^s bosom, 
 and with all the energy of fraternal re- 
 gard plead in her behalf; but he assured 
 her she could only avoid drivingf the 
 Count to imprecate a curse upon her, 
 by forbearing to address her parents
 
 OF ISENRERG. 6S 
 
 till time had softened their irritated 
 feelinsrs. 
 
 The alarming effect, which this af- 
 fecting intelligence produced on his lady, 
 induced the Baron to accept an embassy 
 to England, (which was offered him soon 
 after by the Emperor) an the hope so 
 new a scene might prove beneficial to 
 her ; but the novelty that country offered 
 to her observation, failed of producing 
 immediately, the desired effect. 
 
 It was not till after the birth of Sigis- 
 mond, that the dejected spirits of his 
 mother, were roused to a capability of 
 enjoyment. Her lord cherished with 
 assiduous care her returning smiles, and 
 had the happiness of perceiving that 
 she gradually became, in some measure, 
 resigned to an event now past recal. 
 
 De Saintviile's letters to himself offer- 
 ing no hope of the Count's relenting ; 
 he, from that time, sedulously endea- 
 voured to banish her native country 
 D 4
 
 46 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 from the recollection of his lady, never 
 allowing any conversation v^^hich might 
 recal it, to be introduced. 
 
 After passing three years in England^ 
 during which period, Gertrude formed 
 an intimate friendship with an amiable 
 lady of that kingdom, they returned to 
 Isenberg, where in the tenderness of the 
 Baron — the increasing pledges of their 
 affection, and the kindness of the Lady 
 Marguerite, the Baroness would have 
 passed most happily her days, but for the 
 heart-wounding remembrance of her 
 parents implacable resentment ; "for that 
 it still remained in equal force, de Saint- 
 ville, from time to time acquainted the 
 Baron. 
 
 This noble family had not been long 
 permanently established in the paternal 
 domains of the Baron, when his lady 
 had the happiness of seeing that English 
 friend, whom she had quitted reluctant- 
 ly, become a resident in Bavaria -, some
 
 OP ISENBERG. 5/ 
 
 pecuniary vexations having induced 
 her, with her husband and infant son, 
 to leave for a while their native country. 
 
 The Baron amused himself by build- 
 ing a new chateau on a more elevated 
 scite, than that on which the antique 
 one of his forefathers had stood ; but it 
 was long before he could obtain the 
 Lady Marguerite's consent to the dis- 
 mantling the ancient towers of her an- 
 cestors. 
 
 At length he succeeded in effecting a 
 kind of compromise with her, by which 
 it was agreed that the arsenal, hall of 
 state, and chapel, which more particular- 
 ly marked the venerable grandeur of 
 the edifice, should remain entire ; and the 
 other parts be reduced to a picturesque 
 ruin. 
 
 The lady Marguerite, had acquiesced 
 
 wdth a sigh — and after the completion of 
 
 the new castle, made it a sacred duty, 
 
 daily to cultirate and train the ivy, 
 
 T> 6
 
 58 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 which she had planted to decorate the 
 revered i clique of her family honors. 
 
 That excellent woman had learnt with 
 extreme complacency the advantages, 
 the brother in whose renown she ever 
 felt so lively an interest, had, during his 
 residence in England, derived from his 
 intimate knowledge of that (still to her 
 favourite) language ; and she thorough- 
 . ly rejoiced at his chusing from that coun- 
 try a governess for his daughters. 
 
 Out of compliment to the venerable 
 lady, whom every member of the family 
 loved and respected, English, in which 
 she alone now loved to converse, was 
 almost constantly spoken at Isenberg. 
 It had cost Mrs. Maitland some pains 
 to guard her young pupils from adopting 
 the singular phraseology and pedantic 
 words of their venerable aunt — in this, 
 however, she happily succeeded. 
 
 The Baron now gave himself up to 
 the mild enjoyment of private life. The
 
 OF ISENBERG. 59 
 
 ever-blooming olis^e of domestic peace 
 waved over his open gate : and under 
 the " snowy wings of innocence and 
 love/^ his family grew up a mutual 
 blessing to each other, till the period 
 which opens to the reader the cha- 
 racters, graces, and beauties of the 
 
 DAUGHTERSOFTHEHOUSEOF ISENBERG. 
 
 Let us follow these charming girls 
 into the saloon, which they entered after 
 quitting the window of their mother's 
 boudoin 
 
 d6
 
 60 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 GHAP, 11. 
 
 '* How sweet are the effects of the soft 
 frasfraiice of the mornins: air breathed in 
 such a ramble as we have just taken/' 
 exclaimed Viola ; " how does it cheer 
 the spirits, and harmonize, yet elevate 
 the soul ! Can you, my dear Pauline, 
 imagine a higher gratification ?" 
 
 The enjoyment of which you speak, '^ 
 replied her elder sister, while she en- 
 deavoured to suppress a sigh which 
 struggled to escape her, *' may be ren- 
 dered doubly dehcious '/' 
 
 " As how ?" interrogated the sprightly 
 Carenthea. — " I doat on pleasure, and 
 would fain learn how I could render
 
 OF I9ENDERG* 6! 
 
 two-fold, that which I have this morning 
 tasted ?" 
 
 " Simply by sharing it with a beloved 
 object, one who ■ /' 
 
 " You are right," interrupted Caren- 
 thea, "^ for mine has to-day been im* 
 measurably heightened by participating 
 with my darling Frolic in his enchant- 
 ing gambols. But for that ingenious 
 trick, of his stealing my bonnet from the 
 pagode des hains^ \ should not have been 
 drawn into indulging myself in the wild 
 scamper after him, by which I recovered 
 it; and then, the infinite diversion he 
 afforded me by his pretended contrition 
 when, panting for breath, I overtook 
 him ; and his well feigned joy at my 
 pardoning his roguery, after I had given 
 him an edifying lecture on the respect 
 due to his sovereign mistress! — Yes, 
 yes, Frolic and I^ have very honestly 
 divided between us the joys of this 
 morning."
 
 63 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 " And I have shared my pleasure also^ 
 with a little helpless creatuEe whose 
 misfortune claimed my pity, and ren- 
 dered me the preserver of its life," said 
 Viola. " While you were pursuing 
 Frolic, and Pauline was visiting the tree 
 of Sigismond, I remained on the brink 
 of the canal, watching the carp as they 
 rose to the surface for the bread we had 
 , thrown them. Suddenly my attention 
 was diverted from their sports by a 
 gentle rustling near me, which excited 
 my curiosity. On examination, I found 
 it had been occasioned by a half- fledged 
 robin, w^hich had just fallen from its 
 nest. Carefully taking it up, for I was 
 fearful of hurting the delicate little 
 creature, I was soon directed to its 
 home by the chirping of the parent 
 bird ; and with the assistance of mount- 
 ing on a garden stool, I restored it to 
 the nest, to which the anxious mother 
 immediately returned. As I marked
 
 OF ISENBEEG* 63 
 
 the joy with which the terror-struck 
 young bird nestled under her extended 
 wing, and then shly watched me from 
 beneath its downy shelter, I recollected 
 an event of my early infancy. Do you 
 remember, Pauline, the first time the 
 late Sir Launcelot Ab^erdale brought his 
 black boy to the chateau ? I had never, 
 at that period, seen one of his colour, 
 and was inexpressibly alarmed at his 
 entering the room in which I was 
 playing with my doll. The poor youth, 
 naturally fond of children, came towards 
 me with a cry of pleasure, and a smile 
 which exhibited two rows of ivory that 
 contrasted with his ebon skin j made him 
 appear, to my affrighted eyes, still more 
 horrible. Terror rendered me immove- 
 able ; and I had given myself up for lost, 
 when my mama, w^ho was only in the 
 next room, by her presence, restored my 
 animation. I even now, well remember 
 how swiftly I darted into her arms;
 
 64 THE DArcilTERS 
 
 from whence, after she had soothed my 
 fears by assuring me Pedro would not 
 hurt me, I from time to time hfted my 
 face from her bosom, where I had first 
 hid it, to peep with timid curiosity at 
 the object of my alarm ; just, I dare 
 .say, as my httle robin did at me, in 
 whose eyes I must have been quite as 
 terrific an object as poor Pedro was in 
 mine. While I stood observing the sly 
 rogue, I recollected the description my 
 mama has since given me of myself; 
 and I felt pleasure from the belief that 
 the bird experienced the same sensations 
 of happiness, at recovering its parentis 
 protection, as 1 had done on the occa- 
 sion, which its prett}^ ways recalled to 
 my remembrance." 
 
 " The circumstance you mention," 
 rephed Pauline, smiling, " reminds me 
 of the trick which Sir Launcelot played 
 Carenthea at that time, whose untamed 
 spirits he thought nothing could daunt.
 
 OF ISENBERG* 63 
 
 The idea was suggested by the very 
 effect that first sight of Pedro produced 
 on you, which my mama related to him 
 on his return from his morning's ride.^' 
 
 " Peace, break you off,'' cried Caren- 
 thea, with affected gravity, not sorry to 
 stop the relation of a joke against herself, 
 which some part of the family had 
 greatly enjoyed at her expense. " Wot 
 you not, the Lady Marguerite ap- 
 proaches ? — Frolic and I will leave yoii 
 to the delectation of the first matinai 
 ceremonials." As she said this, taking 
 her favorite by the blue ribbon which 
 decorated his neck, she precipitately 
 made her exit w^ith him, through the 
 glass door which opened on the lawn, 
 while her venerable relative slowly en- 
 tered at one opposite. 
 
 *' My nieces,^' said the Lady Mar- 
 guerite, as soon as she had taken her 
 usual seat at the breakfast table : " you 
 will scarcely inficiate that I come tho
 
 66 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 harbinger of good tidings, when I enun- 
 ciate to you that one is newly arrived 
 from Sigismond with dispatches ; which, 
 however, in my existimation, savor of a 
 dyspathy which merits increpation. The 
 exoptation of the youth to embrace the 
 illustrious family of which he has the 
 glory to be the induciate heir, follows 
 hard on the course of his herald.'^ 
 
 Joy brightened the charming counte- 
 nances of the sisters, as they lent their 
 attention to the words of their usually 
 too prolix kinswoman, who thus pro- 
 ceeded : 
 
 " For myself, I think this precipitar 
 tion auo'urs too much of that in^enite 
 impetuosity, which was always, in my 
 existimation, the leading fault of his 
 character, and from which I have often 
 obsecrated him to free himself, as in- 
 compatible with the grave dignity of 
 deportment which beseems one of hig 
 elevated station. I have, at times, en-
 
 OF ISENBERG. 67 
 
 coiiraged th-e hope that the diuturnity 
 of his classical researches would have 
 made him absist from those juvenile in- 
 considerations, which I remember the 
 Baron, your grandsire, greatly con- 
 demned, as totally iaconsistent with 
 maximity. After his absences from the 
 chateau of his ancestors, he ever made 
 it a point of propriety to return to it, 
 escorted by a numerous retinue. To 
 this end he was encountered at several 
 leagues distance, by some of his multi- 
 tudinous vassals, who escorted him to 
 the chateau. After an absence of four 
 years, it assuredly may be deemed an 
 inhonestation of his descendant, not to 
 have adopted some similar excogitntion, 
 by the which- means, instead of revisit- 
 ing the mansion of his forefathers vvith 
 the impigrity of a valet de poste, (a 
 measure I greatly im probate as an in- 
 honestation of his dignity) he mi^ht 
 slowly, and v/ith that stateiiness, have
 
 68 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 approached it, which his high rank de- 
 mands. Had I been aware of this, his 
 so sudden plan of return to Iseriberg, I 
 should have thrown on paper for his 
 perusal an exegesis of my opinability, 
 accompanied with my tlagitations on 
 the subject, which considerably touches- 
 the dignity of his name. As my nephew 
 has nothing immorigerous or tetrical in 
 his disposition, he mdubitably would 
 have grateiully profited of my advice.^^ 
 
 " But do you not think, my dear 
 aunt,^' asked Pauline, modestly, " that 
 the youth of Sigismond, his^Iong ab- 
 sence from a family which he tenderly 
 loves, and his very natural impatience to 
 embrace them, are sufficient excuses for 
 waving the procession of which you 
 speak ?" 
 
 '• Aye ! so it ever is," ejaculated the 
 Lady Marguerite. " That portion of 
 gallic blood derived from the maternal 
 line, which co-mingles with that of Jsen-
 
 OP ISENBERC* 69 
 
 berg in the veins of each descendant of 
 the Baron my brother, and may be 
 termed ingenite in them, Cver shews its 
 effects by those starts of vivacity and 
 flammeous impatience ; though, with 
 all due deference and regard be it 
 spoken, for that admirable lady your 
 mother, whom I respect and love. It 
 is r^o personal fault of hers, but that in- 
 digenous to her nation which I lament ; 
 and but for this, her children would be 
 eximious. Sigismond and Carenthea 
 were doubtless imbued with the largest 
 portion of this vivacious spirit and in- 
 cogitancy, though I still flatter myself, 
 the former will be found' to have greatly 
 subdued his during his peregrinations/^ 
 
 "But when does my brother's letter 
 bid us hope to see him ?'^ asked Viola, 
 who had been too much absorbed in 
 anticipating the return of a brother, who 
 was fondly lored by them all, to have 
 strictly attended to the Lady Marguerite's
 
 70 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 lecture oa the proper ceremonials of 
 his entree, or the co-mixture of s^alhc 
 blood with that of Isenberg. She 
 only remembered that Sigismond was 
 ever wont to be the dehght of his happy 
 family — ^tlie promoter and planner of 
 their juvenile sports, of which he was 
 the soul ; that they had wept at his 
 departure, mourned his absence, and 
 would all equally rejoice in its happy 
 termination. Fond expectation there- 
 fore, beamed from her soft eyes, as she 
 repeated: " Do you think, my dear 
 aunt, we may hope to see him to-night." 
 *' Verament, even now he may be 
 Avithin a league of the chateau,^' replied 
 the Lady Marguerite, " so the report of 
 his emissary leads us to conjecture. I 
 doubt if he has allowed sufficient time 
 for the domestics to be habited in their 
 state liv^eries, and arrange themselves in 
 the hail of audience to receive their 
 young lord. Such incogitancy was ma-
 
 OP ISENBERG. 71 
 
 nifest in my sister the Baroness, from 
 joy at the unexpected return of her son, 
 that but for my presence of mind, I 
 query if any one would have given even 
 the exoptable orders for the grand portal 
 to be thrown open for l\is reception. 
 The elation of my brother, the Baron 
 Isenberg, was scarcely less remarkable, 
 it took from him the power of attending 
 to my dehortations from giving way to 
 such transports/^ 
 
 The speech of the Lady Marguerite, 
 was here suddenly interrupted by loud 
 shouts of laughter, mingled with several 
 voices which proceeded from the lawn. 
 The party were evidently approaching 
 ' the apartment in which she was haran- 
 guing ; and in the next moment, she 
 saw enter through the glass door way, 
 the induciate heir of the illustrious house 
 of Isenberg, in a careless trayelhng dress, 
 with Carenthea fondly leaning on one 
 arm, while with his other hand, he was
 
 7^ THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 leading a boy, beautiful as the god of 
 love ! This sweet child was the young 
 Isidore, his brother, the last born of the 
 Baroness. 
 
 Carenth^a, (who in her escape from 
 the breakfast room, meant to avoid 
 meeting* the Lady Marguerite in her 
 way to her own apartment, by crossing 
 the hall of audience) on arriving there, 
 was startled at seeing the full dressed 
 domestics already assembled, w^ho were, 
 at the express order of her aunt, arrang- 
 ing themselves in the form in which 
 they had been accustomed to receive 
 their late lord. At this unexpected 
 sight, she stopped to enquire the cause, 
 ■when she was informed by the newly 
 arrived valet of her brother, that he w as 
 momently expected. As she was lis- 
 tening to this delightful intelligence, 
 she observed Isidore, who was at that 
 instant peeping over the ballustrades of 
 the corridor, to discover the meaning
 
 OP ISENBERG. 7S 
 
 of the unusual bustle below ; Caren- 
 thea beckoning to him, he ghded down 
 the staircase and joined her. Taking 
 his hand, she swiftly traversed with him, 
 that part of the grounds, by which she 
 knew Sigismond would arrive; and 
 they had not proceeded far, when the 
 expected object appeared in sight. 
 
 Greatly as Carenthea (who strikingly 
 resembled himself) was grown since 
 their separation, he instantly recognized! 
 in the bewitching nymph who ap- 
 proached him, that ever lovely, mirth- 
 ful, laughter loving girl of thirteen, 
 whom he had four years before left. 
 Springing from his horse, in the next 
 moment they were locked in each others 
 arms. Aiier the fu'st transports of joy 
 were a little subsided, and Sigismond 
 had sworn that ha at first took Isidore 
 for Cupid, led by one of the Graces, 
 Carenthea, in the intoxication of her 
 pleasure, entirely forgetting the grand 
 
 YOi<. r. E
 
 74 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 portal, the hall of audience, and the do- 
 mestics adorned in their state liveries, 
 led the future noble representative of the 
 illustrious house of Isenberg, by the 
 nearest vray to the embraces of that 
 affectionate family, who were so im- 
 patiently awaiting his arrival. 
 
 Nothinor could exceed the dismay of 
 the good Lady Marguerite, at this total 
 neglect of all those rules, estabhshed 
 for the wise purpose of preserving, un- 
 impaired, the dignity of her ancient 
 house. She sat petrified during the 
 joyful scene to which she was a witness ; 
 for the Baron and his lady descrying the 
 happy party as they were appnoaching 
 the chate.iu, arrived at the breakfast 
 room the moment after themselves. 
 
 Some time past before any one was 
 sufficiently composed, to remark the dis- 
 satisfaction which still loured on her 
 brow. When it became visible to Sigis- 
 mond, he said, " I am sorry to perceive
 
 OF ISENBERG. 75 
 
 that there is one of my family to whom 
 I am not welcome ! — My sweet Viola 
 wept at sight of me, but I felt that her 
 tears, as they wetted my cheeks, were 
 those of joy !^' 
 
 The conscience-struck Lady Mar- 
 guerite interrupted him — "My dear 
 nephew, you are unjust. — Your arrival 
 amongst us, is to myself, a subject of 
 much gratulation — It is the manner of 
 it that has checked those manifestations 
 of satisfaction, the defalcation of which 
 you complain/^ She then repeated to 
 him the lecture on the important topic, 
 with which she had before sought to 
 edify his sisters. 
 
 Sigismond hstened with a good hu- 
 moured attention, which modified his 
 venerable relative ; who concluded her 
 harangue by observing that she attached 
 considerably more blame on the occa- 
 sion to Monsieur Delmond, than to 
 himself, since his long residence in the 
 
 ESI
 
 76 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 chateau Isenberg, ought to have im- 
 pressed on his memory those rules of 
 decorum, of whose violation she com- 
 plained. 
 
 " Pardon me, Lady Marguerite,^^ 
 said Sigismond, " Delmond is by no 
 means in fault ; last evening, before we 
 separated, he urged something of this 
 kind, but I, who was tired with my day's 
 journey, told him, after a night s rest he 
 would find me in a bett;er cue to weigh 
 these important matters ; and being 
 really overcome with drowsiness, I re- 
 tired to bed. To-day rising with the 
 lark, I was suddenly struck with the 
 thought, that the shortest and most 
 agreeable way of settling the business, 
 was giving him the slip, by departing 
 before his reveU\ I therefore instantly 
 dispatched Latour, to warn you all of 
 my approach, that my unexpected ap- 
 pearance might not alarm you, and soon 
 after followed him as you see. 1 ques-
 
 ©P IStNBERG. 77 
 
 lion if Delmond, who is no early riser, 
 is yet acquainted with my flight. 
 However, I think this clumsy affair of 
 mine may yet be re"paired. You have 
 only to suppose that I have to day 
 merely visited you incog ; Princes you 
 know sometimes travel inbog. To- 
 morrow, with the earliest dawn, I will 
 ride forth a few leagues from Isenberg, 
 where I have promised to meet tvv6 
 friends whom I have invited to pass 
 some time at the chateau ; then shall 
 the cavalcade, as my aunt directs, meet 
 us on our return ; at the head of which 
 you shall descry me deporting myself 
 with grave dignity a thousand times 
 more like my grand-tather, than I could 
 possibly have done, had ! not previously 
 seen and embraced you all ^' 
 
 " There spoke the descendant of the 
 ancient house of isenberg,^' said the de- 
 lighted Lady Marguerite. " This happy 
 expedient will, as you justly enunciate, 
 e3
 
 7S THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 repair all. I will take on myself to 
 order and arrange every thing. But of 
 •whom spake you nephew ? — Who are 
 these friends whom you purpose domes- 
 ticating aw hile in this mansion ?" 
 
 " They are cavaliers of birth, merit, 
 and fortune/' returned Sigismond, " w ho 
 were introduced to me by the Prince of 
 Verona at that place. Don Alphonso, 
 Savaadra de Lerma, the elder by a year, 
 13 a Spaniard, whom I wdli describe in 
 the language ©f him to w^hom I 6we the 
 honor of his acquaintance. In his 
 bosom, '^ said the Prince, " burns the 
 pure flame of genuine chivalric honor ; 
 the house from which he sprang is the 
 noblest and most disfinguished in Cata- 
 lonia ; and his soul is still more elevated 
 than his rank ; for the rest,^^ continued 
 Sigismond, '' he is esteemed by the 
 ladies as too grave and studious, w^hich, 
 however, is of no consequence, as his 
 heart has hitherto been impenetrable to
 
 OP ISENBERG. 79 
 
 the attraction of even the most cele- 
 brated beauties, so that he has never yet 
 surrendered the fortress, which is be- 
 heved therefore, to be impregnable. 
 
 " In my other friend, the Marquis de 
 Villerose. centre the titles and estates of 
 two illustrious houses of France. Not 
 long after the Marquis's mother became 
 a widow, she retired with her infant son 
 into Germany, her native country, 
 where, in great retirement, he was edu- 
 cated. On the decease of his mother, 
 three yeaps since, Villerose, to comply 
 wdth her dying request, has passed his 
 time from that period in visiting the 
 different states of Europe ; and he is 
 now about to return to France to take 
 possession of his extensive domains, 
 which he has never yet seen. I regard 
 it highJy complimentary to myself that 
 he has been prevailed on to deviate 
 from his direct road thither, for the pur- 
 E 4
 
 so THE r)AUcfeTERS 
 
 pose of favoring me with his company 
 for some weei> s/' 
 
 " It gives me much satisfaction, 
 nephew/' said the Lady Marguerite, 
 •' that these two cavaliers, your friends, 
 "will be escorted to Isenberg with the 
 res'-ect which appears to be so justly 
 their due. I m^ke it my especial care 
 that their reception here, shall not dis- 
 credit their merits, or your name.'' 
 
 On sayii^g this, the Lady Marguerite 
 arose, and with solemn steps, and a look 
 of complacency quitted the room. The 
 bappv party she left behind her, separa- 
 ted not, tin the first dinner-bell ac- 
 quainted them with the lapse of time.
 
 tdt ISfiNBERG. 8J 
 
 CHAP, III. 
 
 In the afternoon, Sigismond attended 
 his three sisters round a part of the beau- 
 tiful plantation which skirted the noble 
 park of Isenberg. On their arrival at a 
 favorite seat, which commanded a very 
 extensive and charming view of the sur- 
 rounding country, they agreed to rest 
 awhile. 
 
 As soon as they had taken their 
 places, the youth thus addressed them. 
 
 " Well, my girls ! what think you of 
 this promised vasit of my friends de 
 Lerma, and V'illerose ? are you not all 
 delighted at the prospect it gives of en- 
 livening this solitary place ; yet let me 
 give you, before hand, a necessary piece 
 E 6
 
 $9 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 of caution. Guard well your hearts ! 
 I should be sorry that my sisters threw 
 away jewels of such rare value ; and 
 take my word for it, the preux cheva- 
 Hers in question, will never yield you 
 their^s in return.'^ 
 
 " And pray brother,'^ asked Caren- 
 Ih^a, archly, "^ what put it into your 
 wise head that your sister's hearts were 
 made of more penetrable stuff than those 
 which appertain to these same knights 
 of the flinty bosom ? Have you dis- 
 covered any lurking weakness in a cer- 
 tain friend of their's, which leads you to 
 suspect it is ^ifamihj foible ?'' 
 
 " Pauline,^' said the laughing Sigis- 
 mond, " I find this sister of ours has 
 not lost any of her saucy spirits since I 
 left you. But mark, she already throws 
 down the gauntlet ; if Villerose take it 
 up, I would have her beware ! By my 
 life, if he would try, he might easily 
 tame this wild bird, and teach it to sit
 
 OF ISFYRERG. 83 
 
 and sing' ^cnteiitveui^ to him in the 
 matiimoiiial ca^e.^* 
 
 " ii-^ily ! *' ejaculated Carenthea, with 
 well feigned earnestness, '' but think 
 you brother, this renowned bird-tamer 
 would lure to his net the t;iddy vvinj^ed 
 animal, by imitating her wild wood- 
 notes till she fancied him her mate ? or, 
 like the rattle-snake, fascinate by his 
 irresistible charms, the trembling flut- 
 terer, till she dropped helpless into his 
 toil??'' 
 
 '' Let me consider," said Sigismond: 
 *' Villerose has charms sufficient to tiis- 
 cinate the fair; to wit, the figure of 
 Apollo — eyes dazzlingly bright — teeth 
 white and regular- — manners graceful 
 and polished ; but whither is that mad 
 girl scampering, Pauline,'^ asked he, as 
 she, to whom he had been addressing 
 himself, started from her seat, and with 
 the fleetness of a fawn, bounded out of 
 sight. 
 
 e6
 
 84 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 " I knovv iiot/^ answered she, " these 
 freaks of hers are by no means uncom- 
 mon; let us leave her to indulge her 
 whim, and do you finish your portrait of 
 the Marquis, that I may judge to- 
 morrow, if you paint weli.'^ 
 
 " Mij portrait ! my good girl ! — no, 
 no !^' replied Sigismond, '* the coluuiiiig 
 is not mi lie, believe me, but that of a 
 lady who viewed my friend v/ith very 
 partial eyes. As she could not exactjy 
 infbnn h'un of this, she used often to in- 
 dulge herself, by enumeiati ng for my 
 edification the various captivating graces 
 she discovered in him, or fancied she 
 did ; which as far as regarded herself, 
 was pretty much the same thing, you 
 know. But what a dear little charmer 
 is this, our Viola become ! her e3^es are 
 handsomer than Carentbea^s, when she 
 is looking just so ! and by the Lady 
 Margueri^^e, she is still more charming 
 when she thus modestly veils them by
 
 Of ISENBERG. 85 
 
 dropping those long silken curtains. I 
 would bid you not blush, my girl, but 
 thof it the more embellishes you ! 
 Really, 1 am surprised at my not having 
 before remarked how very lovely she is 
 grown ! though now 1 recollect it, she 
 used formerly at times, to strike me as 
 handsomer than either of you.^^ 
 
 " Well but brother,'' interrupted Pau- 
 hne. " I wish to hear your opinion of 
 these your expected guests. The Prince 
 of Verona's, and that of the tender 
 hearted lady who favored you with her 
 conrdence, we have already had ; come, 
 honestly tell us, in what you think their 
 commendations exaggerated/' 
 
 " Why, as to De Lerma,'' returned 
 he ; "I think the Prince said no more 
 than is his due — and for person — I know 
 not any fault which is Xo be found with 
 it; but though it is impossible, when 
 you know him as well as I do, not to 
 love and respect him, I think he is too
 
 S6 THE D^rCHTERS 
 
 precise — too — i can scanely tell what 
 — but to give an instance of my Ui wan- 
 ing — he makes it a principle, to devote a 
 certain portion of the day to his studies, 
 from which there is no getting him 
 to deviate. Nay, I have known him 
 dechne morning parties, even when in- 
 treated to join them by ladies (from 
 whom some of my acquaintance would 
 have given an eye to receive such a com- 
 phment) rather than swerve a tittle, 
 from the established rules he has imposed 
 on himsflf. Would you believe it, 
 before I could prevail on him to promise 
 me his company at Isenberg, I was 
 obliged to pledge my word, that he 
 should be perfect master of his own 
 time. But c»n the other hand, instead 
 of stupifying himself as you would very 
 naturally suppose, by thus systema- 
 thizing and schooling himself, he ever 
 imparts pleasure to his associates w^hen 
 he appears amongst them. His con-
 
 OF ISENBFRG. S7 
 
 versatioii is so sensible — his sentiments 
 so elevated — his heart so generous — his .. 
 mind so enlaroed — and his understand- 
 ing so cultivated, that he forms the 
 charm in whatever company he mixes. 
 And now 1 think of it, I verily believe, 
 the disapprobation with which I have 
 been speaking of his particularities, 
 orio^inates in its often banishins: me his 
 society, in which I delight, for hours 
 that I might otherwise pass with him/^ 
 " Brother,'' said Viola, " 1 think 
 your pretended censure on Don Al^ 
 phonso, proves to be a very high pane- 
 gyric ! Let us hear if you can speak as 
 honorably of the Marquis }'' 
 
 " By the illustrious house of Isen- 
 berg !" exclaimed Sigismond, " She 
 has the softest — sweetest — tenderest 
 voice I ever heard ! Are you not all 
 struck with it, Pauline ? Has it not 
 drawn on her the epithet ofj the S2/reny 
 amongst you ?"
 
 tS THE PAUGHTER5 
 
 " Ts not the syren fabled to have pos- 
 sessed the power of bending to her will 
 all who listened to her liquid tones/^ 
 asked the smiling Viola. " Surely, 
 brother, you even now teach me mine, 
 possesses no such influence !" 
 
 " And roguish too, by all that is se- 
 ducing V^ ejaculated Sigismond; " Well, 
 my girl, thou art right, and I half sus- 
 pect that the rare and evanescent arch- 
 ness, which now and then peeps cut of 
 a pnir of soft eyes, like thine, just to sa- 
 tisf}^ us, that there is all we wish within, 
 is a thousand times more piquant and 
 captivating, than the ever animated 
 witcheries of Carenthea — not that I am 
 dissatisfied with her — she is a delightful 
 girl, and will make a very proper help-- 
 mate for \ illerose, should he happen to 
 be of the same opinion. To be honest, 
 I am very proud of my friends, but 
 still more so of my sisters, who are 
 three of the finest girls I know ; and I
 
 ep ISENEERG. 89 
 
 should not be sorry, if the dignified air, 
 the graceful figure, and noble features of 
 Pauline, are not viewed with his wonted 
 frigidity by Don Alphonso.-^ 
 
 The cheeks of his sister were instant- 
 ly suffused with the deepest vermiilion, 
 at this random observation. As the 
 glowing tints gradually faded, they l^ft 
 behind them a shade of uneasiness, 
 which though unobserved by her bro- 
 ther, escaped not th6 sensative Viola, 
 who with the amiable view of divehinsc 
 from her sister, his attention, till Pauliiie 
 had subdued the painful sensation so 
 unintentionally aw^akened b}^ Sigismoud 
 — she said, " But the MHrquis't brother, 
 when are we to be gratified with his 
 likeness }^^ 
 
 Why I scarcely know what to tell you 
 of Yillerose, rephed he, " but that he 
 has a certain takivs^mss of manner which 
 renders him a great favorite amoni^st 
 the women. This, De Lenna once re-
 
 90 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 marked to me, he attributed to the sin- 
 gularity of one of his great vivacity of 
 character, possessing the apparently in- 
 compatible propensity, to view things 
 through the medivmi of a kind of sen- 
 timental romance, which is an invariable 
 passport to the favour of your sex. He 
 has hitherto, however, been a mere flu t- 
 terer amongst them, nor could any one, 
 but such a mad cap as Carenthea, in my 
 opinion, ever fix him; it wouid afford 
 excellent sport, to see them rattle each 
 other into sobriety. However there is 
 one thing that I must not omit to tell 
 you, which alone is sufficient to shew 
 his intrinsic merit. De Lerma loves 
 him above all other human beings. They 
 accidentally met between two and three 
 years ago in Spain, where Villerose 
 (tlien newly set out on his travels) had 
 an opportunity of distinguishing him- 
 self, in an affair of great dehcacy., in 
 which he exhibited such honor, bra*
 
 OF ISENEERG, $1 
 
 very, and dignified pride, that Don Al- 
 phonso who happened to be an eye wit- 
 ness of the scen€, from that hour, 
 opened to him his capacious heart. 
 They have ever since been united by 
 the closest ties of friendship; and 
 striking- as is the contrast which tlieir 
 characters form, so correct are the prin- 
 ciples of each, and so greatly do they 
 resemble each other in essentials, that 
 if I may be allowed the expression, one 
 great soul seems to animate them both 1 
 I have already told you, I owe my intro- 
 duction to them to the Prince of Vero- 
 na, who had the goodness not only pri- 
 vately to recommend' rny cultivating 
 their good opinion, but did me the 
 honor of speukins: to them of me in 
 terms so far beyond my merits, that my 
 modesty will not allow me to repeat 
 them. He, at the same time, solicited in 
 my behalf their friendly attentions, as 
 for one in whom he took a particular 'm-
 
 99 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 teres t. In tbe progress of our travels 
 we have often been thrown together^ 
 when we ever in common pursued our 
 researches. The comphment they are 
 about to pay me in this visit, I regard as 
 the highest proof they could give, that 
 if I have rejoiced in the chance which 
 introduced me to their acquaintance, 
 they have not repented the encourage- 
 ment they have given me, to profit by 
 that chance/^ 
 
 '' Indeed, brother," said Pauline ; 
 *' you have greatly prejudiced me in 
 favor of these cavaliers, but here comes 
 Carenthea, apparently somewhat com- 
 posed by her excursion/' 
 
 At this moment she Was approaching 
 the party, preceded by the beautiful and 
 joyous Isidore. On being called on, to 
 explain the cause of her sudden disap- 
 pearance, she informed them that her 
 little brother had obtained from her a 
 promise that he should make one of
 
 OF ISENEERG. 93 
 
 their evening walking* party. " While 
 Sigismond was speaking/^ added she; 
 " I suddenly was struck with the re- 
 collection of my breach of faith, and 
 pictured to myself, the poor little fel- 
 low, grieving at home on account of his 
 disappointment. No sooner had this 
 remembrance and its attendant appre- 
 hension, rushed on ray mind, than I 
 hastened, as you saw, to repair my fault, 
 ^nd obtain cupidons pardon.'' 
 
 " There is many a youth," said Si2;is- 
 mond, as he affectionately placed the 
 delighted Isidore on his knee, " of 
 thrice thy years, who would think 
 himself trebly repaid, for a temporary 
 slight from so fair an offender, by such a 
 reparation !'^ 
 
 '' You cannot imagine,*' whispered 
 Isidore; " what a bustle the lady Mar- 
 guerite is in, at the chateau, and Mon- 
 sieur Delmond is arrived, and she says 
 he is to make one of the procession to-
 
 94- THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 morrow — and they are now consulting 
 all about the manner of it. Oh! it is 
 so droll to hear the questions she is 
 putting to him about our grand-papa ! 
 then he answers he does not remember 
 — and then she is displeased. I could 
 not help laughing to see Monsieur Del- 
 mond at school / but luckily ^e was so 
 much puzzled, and she was so much 
 taken up with her arrangements, as she 
 -calls them, that they did not heed me, 
 so while I was waitinof at the window 
 till she was at leisure to tell me where 
 you were all gone, I saw Carenthea 
 crossing the lawn, on which away I 
 slipped, leaving them to wonder, by and 
 bye what is become of me." 
 
 " i rather suspect Mademoiselle Cary," 
 said Sigismond ; " that you have taken 
 this sly rogue under your tuition. Tell 
 me, Isidore, does she not instruct you 
 in mischief; and shew her white teeth 
 when you say saucy things of our good
 
 OP ISENBERG. 93 
 
 aunt, Marguerite ? By my life, that is a 
 wortiiy old soul, girls, notwithstanding 
 her erudition and circumambalaUtig 
 manner of coming to the jDoint.'^ 
 
 " But surely brother,'^ said Carenthea 
 with much gravity ; " you are net of so 
 tetrical a disposition to wish to free my 
 aunt's English from that equally uncom- 
 mon and amusing peculiarity of ex- 
 pression, which does not more form a 
 subject of pride and pleasure to herself, 
 than it does of amusement and edifica- 
 tion to her admiring auditors?" 
 
 " / wish to deprive her of any plea- 
 sure?" replied Sigismond ; -' by no 
 means; on the contrary, 1 declare it has 
 greatly delighted me that I was so lucky 
 as to hit on the happy expedient of 
 to-morrow's raree-show, which has not 
 only set the ancients' heart at ease, but 
 she has. looked ten years the younger 
 for it ever since. Though while T think 
 of it, let me caution you all to observe,
 
 96 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 I mean to assume the dignified deport- 
 ment, proper for the descendant, and 
 future representative of our great pro- 
 genitors, on this ever memorable event 
 in the annals of Isenberg; I expect 
 therefore to be greeted on my arrival at 
 the chateau, with the respectful de- 
 meanour, which will befit its importance. 
 Besides, 1 dare say, De Lerma will take 
 it all to be quite as serious and proper, 
 .as the old lady herself, so I charge you 
 remember, that you make right dis- 
 tinction between Sigismond incog, and 
 Sigismond in propria persona/^ 
 
 How very far was this amiable youth 
 from suspecting, when he thus sportively 
 denominated the next days expected 
 arrival, " an ever memorable event in the 
 annals of Isenberg^' that these words. 
 •\Vere prophetic ! or that the hour, which 
 each innocently anticipated, as promising 
 to exhibit a farce, well w^orth their 
 mockery, was big with the future fates
 
 OP ISENBERO. 97 
 
 <)f tlio«e lovely sisters, for whom hi^ 
 bosom glowed with fraternal affection. 
 
 Charmed with the present—and care- 
 less of the future, this happy and united 
 party, after fully enjoying the tranquil 
 Sweetness of their agreeable walk, re- 
 turned to the chateau J to delight th6 
 inost tender of parents, by the sight of 
 a group so interesting ! so every way 
 worthy their fondest cares. 
 
 The rest of the evening glided away 
 in the same pleasing harmony, enlivened 
 ^vlth the details of his travels by Sigis- 
 piond, which were not unpleasingly di* 
 versified by the occasionally sagacious 
 remarks of Delmond, and the learned 
 Strictures of the lady Marguerite ; who 
 learnt with great satisfaction, that the 
 expected guests of her nephew were 
 l&ufficiently masters of the English 
 tongue, to converse with her ladyship) 
 In it. 
 
 ¥0L^ I. t
 
 95 THE DAUaHTER$ 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 On the following morning, as soon as 
 the awakening dawn began to gleam 
 with mild lustre in the east, and tinging 
 with its soft light the vast horizon, dis- 
 closed the new-born day, Sigismoad 
 arose, faithful to his engagement, and 
 accompanied only by Delmond, and his 
 valet Latour, departed from Isenberg. 
 
 They had for some time lost sight of 
 the turrets of the chateau, when the 
 mounting sun unveiled his dazzling orb, 
 and gave promise of gilding, with his 
 effulgent rays, the pageantry, which w^s 
 to grace the festival of the lady Mar 
 guerite. 
 
 That glorious luminary had scarcely 
 reached his meridian, w^hen the piercing
 
 OF ISENBERG, 99 
 
 eyes of Carenth^a, from the terrace, 
 descried at a considerable distance the 
 cavalcade, winding its slow and stately 
 way on its approach to the chateau. 
 
 She had no sooner proclaimed thm 
 discovery, than a confused sensation be- 
 gan to agitate every bosom, as if they 
 were now about to behold, for the first 
 time, after an absence of four years, their 
 beloved Sigismond; and with palpi- 
 tating hearts they hurried towards the 
 Baron's state room, where it was settled 
 the assembled family were to receive 
 him. 
 
 The pompous ceremonials whrcfe 
 were every where prepared to greet the 
 future lord, seemed to have produced 
 on the minds of all, a magic influence ! 
 even the playful beings who had fore* 
 ?een on the preceding evening in theni, 
 only subjects of merriment, now felt 
 themselves involuntarily impressed with 
 solemnity^— which was ^om fette to 
 ¥2
 
 100 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 time increased by the discharge of ar- 
 tillery from the battlements, whose 
 thjunder reverberated along the chain of 
 mountains, which stretched in sublime 
 majesty, on the east side of Isenberg, 
 and formed a fine contrast to the smihng 
 vallies and gentle slopes, with which 
 other parts of the noble domain were 
 diversified. 
 
 Their discharges were answered by 
 the bugle horns of the advancing party, 
 every blast of which, as it smote more 
 Jand more loudly on the listening ears of 
 the expecting family, seemed by an- 
 flouncing the nearer approach of the 
 procession, to redouble the agitation 
 tvhich shook them. 
 
 The Baron's room of state, with the 
 princely suite of apartments which led 
 to it, were all hung with the richest 
 gobelin tapestry, representing the most 
 renowned deeds which had been per- 
 formed by the members of the house of 
 ffeeuberg.
 
 Olf iSEKBEttG. 101 
 
 The cavalcade had now reached the 
 grand entrance of the park, from the 
 gate of which, to the draw bridge of 
 the chateau, the avenue was Hned by- 
 rows of vassals clad in their holyday 
 garments. 
 
 Through these greatly attached and 
 humble children of their lord, did the 
 hope of this amiable family now ad- 
 vance, mounted on a noble steed, pre- 
 ceded by two pages, carrying the banners 
 of Isenberg — and supported on either 
 side by his graceful and gallant friends, 
 Don Alphonso Savaadra de Lerma, and 
 the Marquis de Villerose. Next ad- 
 vanced the respectable Monsieur Del- 
 mond followed by four pages. The 
 band of the chateau formed a break be- 
 tween these and twenty equeries sump- 
 tuously dressed, and mounted on horsea 
 richly caparisoned. The procession was 
 closed by fifty of the younger vassals, 
 well mounted, and testifying by tbeii 
 
 F 3
 
 lOf THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 respectful afFectioh, their readiness to 
 (FaHy: round the standard of their young 
 lord, should he ever demand their ser- 
 Tices. 
 
 ' .'The huissiers now received netice to 
 throw open the grand portal, from the 
 tvarder, stationed on the parapet of the 
 chateau— ^whose shrill horn, echoing 
 through the vaulted halls proclaimed 
 the near approach of the noble heir of 
 Isenberg. 
 
 A grand discharge of artillery saluted 
 the party, as they crossed the draw- 
 bridge, and passing the first quadrangle 
 arrived at the grand entrance. Then 
 did Sigismond dismount, and lead his 
 friends through a numerous assemblage 
 -of domestics (habited in their dress 
 liveries) towards the room of state, 
 where arranged by the lady Marguerite, 
 in the order of primogenitorship, were 
 ?ea^erly awaiting him, his anxious family. 
 - 'Th^ Baron, and his still beautiful
 
 OJE ISENBERQ. lOS 
 
 lady, decomted with the most costly 
 elegance, were seated on chairs, elevated 
 several steps above the level of the 
 apartment ; and on his right hand was 
 seen the lady Marguerite, clad in the 
 same habiliments in which she had re- 
 ceived from her imperial majesty, the 
 honor of knighthood ; w^hile from her 
 bosom appeared suspended the glittering 
 badge of her order. 
 
 Gratified pride smoothed her usually 
 wrinkled brow, as she cast her eyes on 
 the lovely creatures beneath her, who 
 were placed on each side the steps lead- 
 ing to the platform ; and with raised 
 colours, and palpitating hearts, listened 
 to the approach of those footsteps, which 
 were distinctly heard traversing the 
 distant anti-roorns. 
 
 " Brother,^^ said the lady Marguerite; 
 '* this is as it should be, and reminds 
 me of the golden days of my youth ; 
 when in the ancient halls of our fore-
 
 104 THE DAtJGHTERS 
 
 fathers, the eximious sire, from wfiOte 
 we are immediately descended, w^ 
 wont thus to commemorate each im*- 
 portant domestic event, which occurred 
 in his distinguished family. It has evet 
 been to me a subject of lamentation, 
 that the repugnance my sister, the ex* 
 cellent Baroness, has ever testified fot 
 these our long established decorum^ 
 should have been the means of their 
 falling so entirely into disuse in the pre? 
 sent generation/' 
 
 At this moment the door was thrown 
 open, and Sigismond, advancing with 
 respectful dignity, bent his knee tp 
 the Baron, while that nobleman be- 
 stowed on him his paternal benedictioBu 
 He would have paid the same homage 
 to the Baroness, but rising in great 
 emotion, she prevented his intention by 
 receiving him in her arms, and pressing 
 him once more to her maternal bosom. 
 
 The lady Marguerite condescendingly
 
 OF ISENBERG. 105 
 
 extended towards him her hand, as 
 quitting his mother, he approached her. 
 With an air of mingled respect and gal- 
 lantry, which highly pleased her, he 
 pressed it to his Hps ; then turning to 
 his friends, w^ho entered the apartment 
 soon after him, he was leading them to 
 his family ; but the Baron and BaronesS 
 rising with graceful politeness, antici- 
 pated his intention by meeting them. 
 
 Highly as was this noble pair pre* 
 possessed by the appearance and address 
 of these polished youths, not less so 
 were- their guests with the courteous 
 reception they experienced ; and the 
 sweet group to whom Sigismond, after 
 tenderly embracing them, separately in- 
 troduced them. 
 
 How unaccountably is the human 
 mind often swayed by external circum- 
 stances ! If the spirits of the lovely 
 daughters of the house of Isenberg had 
 been affected by the solemn grandeur of 
 v6
 
 306 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 that day's ceremonials, not less rennark* 
 ably were those of Sigismond subdued 
 ^y them:. While they were impressed 
 witl? a timid respect, hitherto never felt 
 towards their brother — and almost un- 
 consciously regarded him, while thus 
 ^surrounded by splendid pageantry, with 
 ia new-born sentiment, almost bordering 
 -on veneration — that brother, for the 
 first time in his life, had been roused to 
 •a perception of those duties, his elevated 
 rank imposed on him ; nor could he se- 
 riously reflect that on himself would 
 one day probably depend the happiness 
 of those ' faithful creatures, who had 
 that morning so affectionately pressed 
 ■aa*ound him, without being greatly 
 touched, and awakened to a lively sense 
 of his own importance in society. 
 
 Such were the sensations which tem- 
 pered the hilarity of the ^^ounger 
 'branches of this amiable family, till 
 they Were roused into activity in the
 
 OF ISENBERG. 107 
 
 evening, by the enlivening strains of 
 music which summoned them to the 
 hall ; where the vassals, who had been 
 Tegaled with true ancient hospitality^ 
 were now about to conclude this happy 
 day, by tracing the mazy circles of the 
 dance; and it was settled that their 
 lord's party were to mingle in the jocund 
 throng. 
 
 The ball was opened by the Baron and 
 Baroness Isenberg, followed by Sigis- 
 mond and the Lady Marguerite ; who 
 was now so completely in her element, 
 as to have forgotten the lapse of the last 
 forty years. 
 
 Don Alphonso led out PauHne; 
 while to the high gratification of her 
 brother, the Marquis de Villerose soli- 
 cited the hand of Carenthea, with a de- 
 gree of eagerness, not more calculated to 
 flatter his hopes, than to rouse that 
 lurking vanity in her young bosom, 
 which was inherent there. This vanity 
 f6
 
 108 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 was accompanied by its too frequent 
 attendant, coquetry, though they had 
 hitherto lain dormant and unsuspected. 
 
 It had not escaped her penetrating 
 feyes, that the Marquis, on the first 
 mention of a dance, impatiently quitted 
 her eldest sister, with whom he was 
 conversing, and passing Viola, had has- 
 tened towards herself, with an eagerness 
 which instantly informed her, he dreaded 
 his friend's anticipating him, in securing 
 her as a partner for the evening. 
 
 How insatiable is vanity ! — How does 
 its " appetite increase by what it feeds 
 on r^ The pleased elation, which this 
 marked preference to herself for a short 
 time occasioned Carenthea, received a 
 severe check a few minutes afterwards. 
 De Lerma, who was attending to the 
 Baron with too much interest to have 
 noticed the engagement which had just 
 taken place between herself and Ville- 
 Tose, on the signal for adjourning to the
 
 OP ISENBERG. 109 
 
 ball-room, approached Pauline, and re- 
 quested the honor of her hand, in a 
 manner, which evinced that her refusal 
 would disappoint him. Had the Mar- 
 quis made choice of Viola instead of 
 herself, Carenth^a, with her naturally 
 childish gaiety, would truly have en- 
 joyed the inspiring exercise of the dance 
 with her hitherto favorite partner, the 
 little Isidore; and the latent spark of 
 vanity have still remained in embrio rn 
 her young bosom. But that tranquil 
 period was now passed ! the first breath 
 of flattery had blown it into a flame, 
 which already burnt with ardor, and 
 made her feel, that without the prefer- 
 ence of Don Alphonso also, that of the 
 Marquis was of little value. 
 
 She now discovered in him, or fancied 
 she did, a superiority over Villerose^ 
 which rendered her absent and dissatis- 
 fied ; and for the \first time, a slight 
 shade of envy, mingled with her affee-
 
 110 THE DAUGHTEns 
 
 tion towards Pauline. " Why do I not 
 resemble her," mentally ejaculated she, 
 " then should 1 have been the choice of 
 Don Alphonso ! '^ 
 
 At that moment the Marquis recalled 
 her thoughts to himself, by some ele- 
 gantly turned compliments, which made 
 her smile on him with renewed compla- 
 cency ; and but, that from time to time, 
 her eyes would follow her sister's part- 
 ner with a secret preference, enhanced 
 by the vain wish of appropriating to 
 herself the approbation with which 
 Pauline had evidently inspired him, she 
 would have felt well satisfied with 
 Villerose, who appeared to see only 
 herself during the evening. 
 
 These attentions v/ere not only no- 
 ticed by Sigismond, but his occasionally 
 significant glances, and nods of en- 
 couragement, testified to his sister that 
 he was greatly pleased to remark the 
 lively impression his friend had received.
 
 OF ISENDERG lU 
 
 Viola, dancing with her little brother^ 
 looked the emblem of innocence, and 
 moved with the most agile grace; while 
 her spotless bosom participated in the 
 hilarity of the joyous Isidore. No one 
 could unmoved behold this sweet 
 couple, lovely in youth, and glowing 
 with health and happiness. 
 
 The Marquis did not behold them ; 
 we have already observed, his every 
 sense was engrossed by his animated 
 and blooming partner, who kept his 
 attention in constant play by the variety 
 of her pretty caprices. 
 
 One moment, were her fine eyes 
 turned fi'om him, apparently seeking 
 some more agreeable object ; the next, 
 her pleased attention was most flatter- 
 ingly given to himself; then her fits of 
 reverie, which were succeeded by repar- 
 tees to his railery, so brilliant, as to re- 
 double his admiration, and consequent 
 efforts to appropriate wholly to himself.
 
 119 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 the attention of one, whom he con- 
 ceived to be the most seducing of her sex. 
 
 Such were the magic charms which 
 Tspell-bound the Marquis during the 
 whole evening, and rendered every other 
 object invisible to his fascinated eyes ; 
 not so his more philosophic friend, Don 
 Alphonso. Greatly as he admired his 
 fair partner, he could not avoid noticing 
 these charming young creatures, who 
 themselves, quite absorbed in the de- 
 light, dancing at an early period of life 
 is capable of inspiring, were equally un- 
 conscious of the admiration they excited 
 in him, and the maternal tenderness 
 with which the Baroness watched their 
 light foot-steps, and followed, with fond 
 attention, their airy movements through 
 the varying dance. 
 
 De Lerma, repeatedly in the course 
 of the evening, gratified her by the en- 
 comiums he lavished on these, her 
 favorite children ; and by bis animated
 
 OF ISENBERfi. II'^ 
 
 ^eons^tulations on her being the motha^ 
 of a family, the most interesting and 
 lovely he had ever seen. " What hap- 
 piness, Madam,^' said he, just before 
 they quitted the ball-room, *' is yours, 
 in possessing such treasures ! — How 
 genuine a source of felicity is opened to 
 those favored of heaven, who like your- 
 5ielf, are enabled, even in the meridian of 
 life, to anticipate the seeing your de- 
 clining years sweetened by the affection- 
 ate cares of those beloved offspring, in 
 whom you will again live ! — What fate 
 on this globe can be more enviable ?^* 
 
 The words of her guest were as caus- 
 tics to the wounded conscience of the 
 Baroness. " Oh ! God t mentally eja- 
 culated she, and her cheeks were 
 bleached by the recollection of the 
 passed. '*' Have I deserved a fate so en- 
 viable ? — Dares she, who has abandoned 
 to grief in their age, those, to whom she 
 owed more than existence. — Dares s-he
 
 114 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 hope to escape a terrible retribution, 
 even where her heart is most vulner- 
 able ?" 
 
 At this moment the eyes of the Baron 
 were directed towards his lady, and he 
 remarked her sudden change of counte- 
 nance. Conceiving it proceeded from 
 fatigue, he immediately gave the signal 
 for retiring ; which the party all obeyed 
 without reluctance, save the Marquis, 
 who felt pained at the necessity of 
 rehnquishing the privilege? he had pos- 
 sessed, as the partner of Carenth^a, ojf 
 giving her his exclusive attention ! 
 
 That usually sprightly girl took her 
 place at the supper table, with an air of 
 gravity so unusual to her, that the 
 Baroness tenderly inquired if she were 
 well ? On her replying that !^she was 
 perfectly so, Sigismond, who was at the 
 moment passing behind her chair, in 
 order to seat himself next to the Lady 
 Marguerite, (to whom he resolved to
 
 OF ISENBERG. lU 
 
 play the attentive cavalier during the 
 rest of the evening) stooping, whispered 
 in his sister^s ear: " Bravo, my girl, the 
 comedy opens well, and promises a de- 
 nouement highly diverting ! you are 
 acting your part very prettily, I hope 
 we shall soon see Villerose seize hi$ 
 proper cue; but just now he a httle 
 mistakes it.'^ 
 
 *' JPray don't teize me, brother,'^ ex- 
 claimed Carenthea, in a voice so expres- 
 sive of peevishness, that the Baroness 
 again took alarm, and was not easily re^- 
 assured that she had nothing of whichi 
 to complain but a little fatigue. 
 
 " Sister," said the Lady Marguerite, 
 who saw that she was still anxiously 
 watching her daughter ; " you do wrong 
 in attributing to indisposition in my 
 neice, that which proceeds merely from 
 the continuity of the music, striking in 
 her tymphanum. I protest I still fee] 
 the effect it produced on mine, which
 
 116 TH£ DAUGMTERS 
 
 has occasioned certain slumbrous sensa- 
 tions on Carenth^a, I dare say, as well as 
 on myself, which in her case, rendered 
 the susurration of my nephew ill-timed," 
 
 The effect of the Lady Marguerite^s 
 eloquent speech was at that moment so 
 powerfully seconded, by one the Mar- 
 quis was addressing to the subject of 
 her observation, that by bringing back 
 the smiles and good humour to her 
 glowing countenance, it at the same in- 
 stant dissipated the apprehensions of he? 
 mother, and encouraged the delighted 
 Villerose to redouble his efforts to amuse 
 and please her. 
 
 ** See, my dear Madam, '^ said Sigis- 
 mond to his venerable partner, and 
 pointing at the same time to the Ba- 
 roness, '' see an additionalproof of your 
 wonted power ! — ^You condescend to 
 speak, and your words carry conviction 
 to the minds of your auditors ! — I, who 
 have this day been an example of the
 
 OP ISENBERG. 1 If 
 
 truth of my observation, may presume 
 to say this, which few would venture to 
 pronounce. But I see Dehnond thinks 
 J am trenching on his prerogative/' 
 
 " You need be in no pain, Mr. Del* 
 mond," said the Lady Marguerite, 
 taking very seriously the rattle of Sigis- 
 mond, " at our imparlance. Every 
 minute that I converse with my nephew, 
 but the more confirms me in the belief, 
 so creditable to yourself, that you restore 
 to the house of Isenberg its induciate 
 heir, freed from the few faults he carried 
 thence, and the irradication of which, 
 has rendered him truly eximious.^^ 
 
 Delmond acknowledged the great sa- 
 tisfaction he received by this most gra- 
 cious compliment, from a lady of her 
 high pretensions, and the party not long 
 after, separated for the night. 
 
 The next ten days were productive of 
 much pleasure to the guests of Sigis- 
 mond. The extreme tenderness the
 
 118 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 Baron ever retained for his lady, had 
 made him, on their setthng at Isenberg, 
 easer to restore to her in the chateau, as 
 far as he was able, all she had lost* in 
 ^abandoning her native country. Her 
 taste, /^e;- manners, therefore soon wrought 
 an entire change in his mansion. The 
 stiffness and etiquette which had, till her 
 arrival, rendered it a comfortless abode 
 to foreigners, and all who were not at- 
 tached to the sombre magnificence 
 W'hich had hitherto reioned there, bv 
 degrees gave way to the graceful free- 
 dom then so attractive in the higher 
 circles of France. 
 
 The Lady Marguerite had sighed, and 
 at times remonstrated with warmth, as 
 one by one she perceived the ancient 
 usuages of the chateau abolished, for the 
 purpose of introducing others, to w^hich 
 she could.not reconcile herself: but the 
 sweetness with which her sister depre- 
 cated her displeasure, the sincere affec*
 
 OT ISENBERG. 119 
 
 tion with which she had inspired her, 
 and the unfeigned wish of seeing the 
 Baron and herself happy, had generally 
 prevented her from persisting in her 
 opposition to their inclinations. 
 
 The manners of the younger branch 
 of this charming family, were formed on 
 those of their accomplished mother, who 
 had been aided in the difficult task of 
 educating her daughters, by an English 
 lady eminently qualified for such an 
 office. She had been recently sum- 
 moned to her native country by the 
 death of a relation, from whom she in- 
 herited an independence ; but some dif- 
 ficulties that occurred in the arrange- 
 ment of her affairs, alone prevented her 
 from hastening back to a family, in 
 which she felt an interest truly maternal, 
 and each member of which hekl her in 
 the highest estimation. 
 
 The absence of Mrs. Maitland how- 
 ever, though affording more liberty to
 
 150 Tat DAUGHTERS 
 
 Tier young pupils than they had hitherto 
 enjoyed, had not diminished the zeal 
 tvith which each pursued the acquire- 
 ments suited to her pecuUar genius i 
 and for this purpose they continued to 
 absent themselves during the morning, 
 from those apartments open to the rest 
 of the family. These hours, were passed 
 by Don Alphonso, in a study appropri- 
 ated by Sigismond solely to him ; and 
 by Yiilerose, in the eager anticipation of 
 that hour, which restored to him the 
 witcheries of Caranthea, with whom he 
 fancied himself most seriously ena- 
 moured- 
 
 The dinner bell was his daily summon* 
 to happiness, for the afternoon was 
 always passed by the ladies with the 
 rest of the family. These hours were 
 rendered delicious to the Marquis by 
 bis agreeable hopes and fears. Now 
 %vould he flatter himself he had re- 
 teived some striking proof of having
 
 OF ISENBERG. 121 
 
 having touched the obdurate heart of his 
 animated mi stress— now tremble least he 
 had lost the ground he the hour before 
 had gained— then, at the moment such 
 an apprehension struck him with dis- 
 may, would she again raise him from 
 despair to extacy, by one of her most 
 enchanting smiles ! Such was the w^ay 
 in which Villerose passed one half of 
 the first ten days at Isenberg. 
 
 Don Alphonso's rolled, though more 
 tranquilly, not less agreeably on. He 
 W^s pleased with every member of his 
 friend's family; and to eafch individual 
 of it, rendered himself highly interesting, 
 without, however, laying himself par- 
 ticularly out to pleiafee either* 
 
 • aVOfllS ';fy 
 
 -:-' 'to .,u . 
 
 VOL. r.
 
 132 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 CHAP. Y. 
 
 Such was the posture of affairs, when 
 one evening Sigismond proposed to his 
 friends, the making an excursion on the 
 following morning to the salt works, in 
 the vicinity of Saltzburg, and the aque- 
 duct at Reichenhall. AYith his usual 
 delicacy in making himself appear the 
 obhged person, addressing Don M- 
 phonso, he said; "I have contrived thisf 
 party from the selfish wish of transfer- 
 ring to myself the enjoyment of those 
 hours, you so inflexibly bestow on the 
 inanimate inhabitants of your study, 
 without obliging you to deviate from 
 your rule of daily adding to your stock 
 of knowlediie.^^
 
 OF ISENBERG. 153 
 
 The fine countenance of De Lerma, 
 relaxing from its usual gravily into an 
 expressive smile of lively acknowledge- 
 ment, enriched the brown of his cheek 
 with a glow, which spoke the heart 
 within to be unfrozen. 
 
 The Marquis sighed, but could not 
 object, and ^t the appointed hour joined 
 Sigismond ; who, with spmts gay as the* 
 lark that summoned him to join with 
 her, in welcoming the sloping beani'^ 
 which announced the birth of a new 
 morning, w-as already mounted, and im- 
 patiently awaiting his friends. 
 
 It was with proud pleasure that Sigis- 
 mond, as they journeyed along, listened 
 to the admiration expressed by his com- 
 panions, of his native country. 
 
 Its never-ending variety charmed, at 
 each change, their different tasters. The 
 sublime prospect presented from an im- 
 mense peak, which they soon reached, 
 of clouds rolling their vast volumes
 
 124 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 below their feet, aiid softening, with 
 their fleecy veil, the glowing landscape 
 beneath ; while above them, towered in 
 beautiful sublimity, the aspiring sum- 
 mits of huge rocks, frowning disdain on 
 the smiling valley below, suited the ele- 
 vated mind of De Lerma. 
 
 The gayer, yet romantic temper of 
 Villerose, gave the preference to the 
 more pastoral scenes, which awaited 
 them on their descent from this emi- 
 nence. 
 
 He enjoyed, with rapture, following 
 the windings of the river, (through 
 vallies encompassed with gently sloping 
 hills, and reflecting in its clear bosom 
 the waving umbrage of the Arcadian 
 woods which embellished the opposite 
 banks) as it directed them to Reichen- 
 hall. 
 
 .At that place they were diverted from 
 the contemplation of the \\'orks of 
 mature^ to those of art, and found in the
 
 OP ISENBERG 125 
 
 celebrated acqueduct which adorns the 
 town, a noble monument of human 
 sagacity and industry. 
 
 * This vast work was constructed to 
 preserve the town from inundation, by 
 the conflux of the water from the salt 
 springs, wath the fresh stream, which 
 issues from a rock near it. 
 
 Though this admirable work was well 
 known to Sigismond, he affected to 
 hear with surprise and aversion an invi- 
 tation to take a voyage beneath the 
 earth ; which however he finally agreed 
 to accept. A flight of stairs at the 
 spring head, conducted the travellers to 
 a subterranean canal, where a boat was 
 in waiting. On approaching the bark, 
 Sigismond, with a view of heightening 
 the effect, pretending to shrink from the 
 abyss, exclaimed : — 
 
 * This acqueduet was constructed in tht 
 ^fteenth centur/. 
 
 G 3
 
 126 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 ** On thy dark bosom, men float fa 
 the city of mourning — through thy 
 Mack jaws men are borne to everlasting 
 ;6orrovv — through thy murky channel, 
 men join those who are lost for ever — 
 Quit every hope.* — thy growling waters 
 seem to say — ^\^e who tempt my gloomy 
 stream. — ^Yet I'll dare the threat/^ h^ 
 ^dded ; and jumping into the boat, his 
 friends followed, >smiling at this humour- 
 ous sally. 
 
 So rapid and violent is the current o£ 
 this subterranean river, that torches are 
 absolutely necessary to the safe guidance 
 of the vessel; which makes its impa- 
 tient way beneath the whole town, and 
 ander many fields and gardens, twelve 
 fathoms below the habitation of man, in 
 a quarter of an hour ; when, with incre- 
 dible impetuosity it launches thebovmd- 
 ing boat once more into open day. 
 
 Well had our young travellers chosea 
 * Dante*s Inferno.
 
 OP ISENBERO. 127 
 
 their seas(Jn for making this singular 
 voyage; for, though the water in 
 general is not more than five feet, there 
 are times, when it is so swelled after 
 heavy rains, as scarcely to leave room 
 for the passengers to sit upright in the 
 bark. This inconvenience they were 
 however spared. 
 
 While, durmg their voyage, De Lerma 
 eXamfhed with a curious eye the roof or 
 arch, which covers the acqueduct, ob- 
 serving to Villerose that the very hard 
 species of rosin with which it was 
 coated, and which gave it the appear** 
 ance of being one entire solid piece, 
 promised its endurance to the end of 
 time ; Sigismond amused himself by ad- 
 dressing those people of the upper z0oM, 
 who from idleness or curiosity were 
 peeping through the openings, or aper- 
 tures, built in the form of towers, which 
 flank the acqueduct. Sometimes he 
 called upon the ladies to pity a tendet 
 G 4
 
 128 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 soul, prematurely banished from terres- 
 trial joys, by wounds received from eyes^ 
 bright as their own ; sometimes on their 
 charity, to throw him a penny to stop 
 the snarling of old Charon. 
 
 On reaching the extremity of the 
 channel, they found their horses in rea- 
 diness, and immediately pursued their 
 journey towards the salt works at Halle. 
 
 The country near Saltzburg assumed 
 a character more sublimely beautiful 
 than any they had yet viewed ; and 
 Don Alphonso appeared to double to 
 himself the pleasure the scenery afforded 
 him, by pointing out to Villerose, those 
 grand features of the landscape, aa hich 
 piore particularly attracted him. 
 
 " How elevating, my friend,'^ he ex- 
 claimed ; *' How awfully majestic, to 
 look up at those prodigious mountains, 
 backed by perpendicular rocks of gra- 
 nite, whose stupendous heights seem 
 to defy the very heavens, and to tempt
 
 OF ISENBERG 129 
 
 US to believe that from their aspiring 
 summits ^ve might touch them. Nor is 
 it less admirable, though more terrific, 
 to view from this undefended road, the 
 tremendous depth below, through which 
 the river Saltz winds its rapid way, as 
 if fearfully hastening from the savage 
 grandeur of its rocky embankment, to 
 repose near the flower-enamelled sides 
 of your beloved meadows. Observe, 
 Villerose, those rival mountains opposite ; 
 do they not appear to hang their pine- 
 clad heads in mournful solemnity over 
 the rapid stream ? To my feelings, this 
 picture comprises, in one coup d'oeil, 
 every thing w^hich can be conceived cal- 
 culated to expand and elevate the soul 
 to a comprehension of the power — the 
 immensity — the wisdom of the great 
 Creator of this stupendous world of 
 wonders!" 
 
 " Nature, in your favorite dress, De 
 Lerma," said the Marquis, " makes my 
 
 G 5
 
 130 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 head giddy, and my lieart cold; to 
 charm me, she must adorn herself irr 
 mild and pastoral beauty, and be sur- 
 rounded by living objects; thus I 
 have ever worshipped her, rather than 
 under the frowning aspect of rocks piled 
 on rocks. Here, in my eyes, desolation 
 seems to have fixed her abode, and to 
 enjoy a savage triumph over the de- 
 struction she has made arovmd of all the 
 smiling scenes of social Me. But what^^ 
 abruptly checking himself, " can that 
 be, perched on the beethng brow of that 
 immeas-urable mountain ! surely it is a 
 hut, hanging on the brink of its fearful 
 acclivity !'* 
 
 " A hut, by all that is tremendous V 
 re-echoed Sigismond; " let us scale the 
 steep ascent, and ascertain whether any 
 one can possibly exist in these forlorn 
 and desert regions ?^' 
 
 The three youths, with all the eager- 
 ness, pursuit at their age inspires, now
 
 OF ISENBERG. 151 
 
 sprang forward, and by perseverance 
 reached the lofty summit, where they- 
 beheld, with an astonishment scarcely 
 to be described, a lovely girl seated at 
 the entrance of a hut, for a hut it was, 
 whose saddened countenance testified 
 that happiness was no mountain nymph. 
 
 She held a crook in her hands, against 
 which she rested her cherub face; on 
 her lap lay some faded flowers, on 
 which she fixed a look of tenderness 
 and regret, bathing them with her tears, 
 *' as if she would make them grow 
 again. '^ — A dog stood by her side, 
 leaning his head on her knee, and re- 
 garding her w4th mournful attention. 
 His vigilance, however, soon called him 
 from his melancholy employment, and 
 warned his mistress of the approach of 
 intruders. 
 
 At sight of the noble youths, she 
 timidly approached ; and a transient 
 gleam of pleasure flushed her cheek, as 
 G 6
 
 135 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 she offered them her httle all, of bread 
 %\d milk, with the shelter of her hut. 
 
 Curiosity, however, not hunger, was 
 their predominating feeling, and de- 
 chning her hospitality, they hastened to 
 question her, respeeting her abode. She 
 shall tell her own tale, in her own 
 words, with that engaging simplicity 
 which won the kind wishes and good 
 offices of the youthful travellers. 
 
 " When first my father sent me to 
 this dreadful place,^^ she began, " I 
 thought I should have broken my heart, 
 ao frightful and solitary it was to be 
 aloiiie ; I feared even the sound of my 
 own voice, and when poor Melak 
 barked, I fancied the echo which re- 
 peated the sound, was the old man of 
 the mountain, threatening to punish me 
 for daring to bring my herd to feed upon 
 his grounds. Indeed, Sirs, I wonder I 
 did not break my heart, when night 
 came on, and I saw no one to protect
 
 OP ISENBERG. 153 
 
 and comfort me but poor Melak, and he 
 could not comfort me either, for he looked 
 up in my face so pitiously, that I pitied 
 myself the more, from seeing myself 
 pitied even by a dog, and was ten times 
 more unhappy for iL 
 
 " One evening, after I had been some 
 weeks here — Oh ! I shall never forget it, 
 how happy it then made me — how sad 
 since ! I had run, as usual, to the brink 
 of the mountain, to catch the last light 
 of the sun, when on looking down, I 
 saw a wild-goat hunter climbing up its 
 hard rough sides. — At first, I thought of 
 running away, but so pleasurable was the 
 sight of a fellow creature, that it rooted- 
 me to the spot, till he approached, and 
 in the sweetest, gentlest voice, begged 
 me not to be frightened; — I suppose, 
 through all my gladness, I looked as if 
 I was, as well I might ; for since my 
 father could be so cruel, what right had 
 I to expect kindness from a stranger ?
 
 134 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 He was kind though, and he wa& respect-* 
 fill too ; he pitied me, told me whom he 
 was, that I might trust him, and pro- 
 mised to come and see me often. He 
 was true to his w^ord, and came morning 
 after morning, bringing me fruit and 
 flowers, and his pipe, and sometimes he 
 would sing, and sometimes he would 
 play, and sometimes he would teach me 
 to sing to his pipe, and all with such 
 good humour and patience, that you 
 would have thought it was I who was 
 doinof him a favour ! It was no wonder 
 that I loved him, for we all loved him^ 
 even the sheep rejoiced at the sight of 
 him; and Melak would watch foi' his 
 coniing, almost as anxiously and impa- 
 tiently as I did, the lambs too would all 
 go frisking round him at the sound of 
 his pipe, so that he was more welcome 
 to us all than day-break, or even the 
 sun itself; for he made every thing about 
 us look as cheerful, and as happy, as that
 
 OP ISENBERG, IS5 
 
 makes the blue sky ami white clouds. 
 I began to think these mountains not so 
 very sad, and that I might live in time 
 contentedly upon them. I began too 
 to admire their beauties, that is, after 
 Chr jstophe had shew n them to me. I told 
 him all this, one evening, and he said I 
 deserved a better fate, than to waste my 
 life in a solitude, fit; only for the greatest 
 criminal ; and he hoped soon to offer me 
 
 one, if I here he stopped, but then 
 
 he looked so honest, so good, as he spoke, 
 that I thought I saw into his heart,^ 
 and 
 
 " You were deceived'^ — said Villerose 
 hastily, whose interest rising with the 
 mountaineer's tale, was hurried away by 
 his feehngs to anticipate w^hat he dreaded. 
 
 '• I hope not" sighed the innocent 
 girl, not taking in the full sense of his 
 question, and losing that sufiusion of 
 cheek, the remembrance of her lover's 
 declaration caused, " 1 hope not,'' she 
 repeated, " for he left me with the deter-
 
 136 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 mination of telling his father the next 
 day, that he had chosen the happy Jose-» 
 phine; and, as he was the only child, he 
 thought, that he should get his consent. 
 He promised he would then return with 
 the joyful tiduigs to me, '' before your 
 worshiped sun,^' said he, with a dear 
 smile, has driven and dispersed the 
 mists through our valley below — these 
 are his very words. How dreary ap- 
 peared the long, long night : at last the 
 sun — Ah no !" suddenly exclaimed the 
 afflicted girl — " No, no — no tongue can 
 tell what my poor, poor, heart felt, when 
 days, and days and days passed on, and 
 no Christophe came back ; when I went 
 
 day after day, and day after '^ 
 
 Here the painful retrospection check- 
 ed her power of utterance. — The youths 
 sympathising most sincerely in her 
 artless sorrow, in the hope of diverting 
 her from recollections which a recapi- 
 tulation of these events w^as calculated
 
 ©J ISENBERG. 13Y 
 
 if) render doubly poignant, asked what 
 motive could possibly induce her cruel 
 father ( who had evidently given her an 
 education superior to her station in life) 
 to condemn her to so savage a hfe. 
 
 *' Ah, Sirs V' said the sweet girl ; 
 " perhaps he could not help it. I was 
 taken, when quite young, by the Coun- 
 tess de Schonbrun, to divert her melan- 
 choly on the death of an only daughter^ 
 (who was my foster sister) and brought 
 up by her with great kindness till het 
 death, which happened a year ago, since 
 when — I don't know how I became so 
 unfortunate, but — I, I — displeased my 
 lord, the Count- — and growing more and 
 more angry with me, he at length in- 
 sisted upon my father's taking me home, 
 hinting that some severity was necessary 
 to humble my pride. ]\Iy father enraged 
 at having me returned to be a burthen 
 upon him, was too well inclined to obey 
 the Count's orders, by choosing this
 
 138 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 mountain, as the >place of my punish- 
 
 ment/^ 
 
 ^' I know the Count/^ eagerly ex- 
 claimed Sigismond ; " and I will make 
 him restore you to your former comforts.'^ 
 
 " We will find Christophe,'' said de 
 Lerma, with some severity ; ^' and oblige 
 him to return to the paths of honor, by 
 returning to you/^ 
 
 '' Depend upon it/'^ observed Ville- 
 rose, in a soothing voice ; '^ he is stilf 
 faithful, and we will assist him in re- 
 moving the impediments which have 
 hitherto prevented his proving himself 
 
 so/' 
 
 The mountaineer looked the grateful 
 feelings, she could not speak : and satis- 
 fied with giving these consolotary pro-' 
 mises, the youths quitted the shep- 
 herdess, to attempt their execution. 
 
 They repaired without delay to the 
 Count de Schonbrun^s, of which noble- 
 man, Sigisraond (after introducing his
 
 OF ISENBER6. 139 
 
 friends) requested a private audience. 
 This favor was no sooner granted him, 
 than conscious of the benevolence of 
 his motives, he without preface entered 
 upon the business, which carried him 
 there, with an earnestness and warmth 
 that for some time wholly prevented his 
 observing the contracting brow and 
 growing impatience of his host. The 
 youth concluded the subject with pe- 
 titioning for the release of Josephine; 
 and was greatly astonished at the repulse 
 he received, and the offensive expres- 
 sions, in which the Count couched his 
 refusal, to release from a just punishment 
 an ungrateful viper, who had perfidiously- 
 wounded the bosoms which had fostered 
 her. 
 
 It was m vain, that Sigismond, after 
 urging every plea humanity could dic- 
 tate, claimed, as an act of justice, a fair 
 statement of the poor girls oftence. 
 The Count was tnflexible ; ^nd becoming
 
 140 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 enraged at the youth's perseverance, veiy 
 unceremoniously quitted the apartment 
 without deigning him any other reply. 
 
 Indignation and disappointment cloud- 
 ed the usually happy countenance of 
 Sigismond, as he joined his friends ; but 
 a few minutes reflection inspired in him 
 the hope that his father's better directed 
 influence, might yet effect, what his 
 want, of judgment and precipitate man- 
 ner of opening the business, had, pro- 
 bably, contributed to frustrate. With 
 this consoling idea they proceeded to the 
 valley— De Lerma and himself to seek the 
 habitation of Christophe's father, while 
 Vilierose explored his way to that of 
 Josephine's. 
 
 The Marquis found, that coarse and 
 ruffian-like as were his manners, he did 
 not long remain insensible to the plead- 
 ings of nature, rendered irresistible by 
 the judicious mixture of manly sense 
 and tenderness, with which he appealed
 
 OF iSENBERa. l41 
 
 to the head and heart of the peasant* 
 But all he gained by thus rekindhng the 
 parent in the boor's bosom, was the 
 making him feel a portion of that help- 
 less affliction, under which, his daughter 
 suffered ; for so completely did Yillerose 
 find he was within the tyrannic power of 
 his lord, that he must risk, not only his 
 future well-being, but life itself, by 
 daring to disobey him, or dispute his 
 power over his hapless child. 
 
 Sigismond and De Lerma in the 
 mean time were not more successful. 
 They had found old Christophe in the 
 deepest distress at the loss of. his son; 
 who had disappeared immediately after 
 he had uttered his perem.ptory prohibi- 
 tion, against his marriage with Jose- 
 phine, and had never since been heard 
 of, though he had sought him, he said^ 
 only to make him happy his own way. 
 
 Upon being asked why he had at 
 first opposed it, he replied, there had
 
 I4f THE DAUGUTEHS 
 
 been ugly reports about the Count and 
 Josephine ; and he thought his boy was 
 too worthy, and too well off in the 
 world, to marry amj man's mistress x 
 but since his son's absconding, he had 
 learnt another tale, *' I have beea 
 t€)ld,'* said he, lowering his voice to a 
 whisper, " that the girPs loant of virtue 
 was not the cause of the Count's inve- 
 teracy against her. Poor girl!" he 
 added, compassionately, " she has been 
 hardly used for being too good, and I 
 would lend a helping hand to redress * 
 her." 
 
 " Keep this in mind," replied Sigis- 
 mond, " and we may perhaps find you 
 emplo3rment, which may absolve you 
 from your share in her injuries." 
 
 As nothing more could, for the 
 present, be done in the valley to pro- 
 mote this laudable work, Sigismond pro- 
 posed the proceeding to the salt works 
 at Halle, which were at no great
 
 OP ISENBERCf. 143 
 
 distance, and from thence return the 
 nearest way to Isenberg, for the pur- 
 pose of enUsting the Baron in the cause 
 of the unfortunate Josephine. 
 
 With this determination, his friends 
 acquiesced, and then pushed forward 
 with an impatience which soon brought 
 them to Halle. 
 
 They found this town romantically 
 situated in a valley, which was crossed 
 by three rivers, formed by the torrents 
 that roll from the mountains, loaded 
 with a rich tribute of wood for the ser- 
 vice of the salt works. The rare beauty 
 of a salt- chamber, to which they were 
 conducted, diverted for a time, their 
 minds from the interesting mountaineer. 
 They imagined themselves transported 
 to some fairy palace, and the artful 
 manner in which they had been 
 conducted through a subterranean pas- 
 sage, lighted by one solitary torch, 
 before they were introduced into a
 
 14i THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 crystal apartment, brilliantly illuminated, 
 doubled its effects by the contrast. 
 
 Cooling, at length in their admiration, 
 they quitted this temple of light ; and 
 Villerose was slowly following his com- 
 panion when he was checked by a deep- 
 drawn sigh which seemed to proceed 
 from some one very near him. 
 
 He started, and threw his eyes 
 around ; but the sudden transition from 
 a blaze of illumination, to the compara- 
 tively feeble rays of a single torch, 
 carried some distance before by the 
 guide who led the v/ay, disabled the 
 Marquis from discerning eveh. a. shadow, 
 in the gloomy passage they were now 
 
 traversmg. 
 
 .^ While he was straining his visual 
 orbs to discover the person, his' com- 
 panions turned the corner, leaving him 
 in total darkness, and at the same time, 
 some one rushed quickly by him. Vil- 
 lerose called tQ him to stop, but no one
 
 OF ISENBERG. Ui 
 
 answering he pursued his path, whick 
 conducted him to a smaller chamber of 
 crystal, lighted from an opening, in the 
 roof. Here he perceived a youth, who 
 immediately on his entrance, threw him- 
 self oh his face. 
 
 The Marquis supposing him suddenly 
 taken ill, with much kindness attempted 
 to raise him; but the unknown firmly 
 resisted his efforts, and heard, in perse- 
 vering silence, all his humane enquiries^ 
 
 Villerose now caught the voice of 
 Sigismond, who was caUing on his 
 name in a tone of anxiety, which made 
 him quit the stranger and hasten to 
 his friend, to whom he related this ren- 
 contre, and asked the guide if he knew 
 why the youth sought to conceal him- 
 self. 
 
 '- He is a stranger to us,^* replied th6 
 man, " and I really believe not too 
 sound here,^^ pointing significantly to 
 his own vacant head. " For though he 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 14:6 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 came here to ask for work, and works 
 hardly too, he gives away all the pay he 
 earns ; and though he seems impatient 
 to go, still he stays. I can't think why 
 he should be rude to you, for he is very 
 good tempered and civil to us.'^ 
 
 " Let us respect his wishes,'^ inter- 
 rupted Don Alphonso, " which are evi- 
 dently to remain unknown.'^ — Saying 
 which, ^ he led the way to their horses, 
 and directed their route to Saltzburg, 
 intending there to pass the night. 
 
 In a few minutes Sisrismond and A I- 
 phonso fell into conversation respecting 
 the visiting the mines in the Tyrol, 
 which on quitting Isenberg ha'd been 
 one of the chief objects of their tour. 
 
 " We will first see the grievances of 
 the pretty Josephine redressed,^^ conti- 
 nued Sigismond, " and then we can 
 with greater satisfaction put our original 
 plan into execution.'^ 
 
 Villerose, at the mention of this 
 
 i
 
 OF ISENBERG. 147 
 
 name, seemed as if by sudden intuition, 
 to discover some connection between 
 her who bore it, and the youth, on 
 whose singular conduct they had so 
 lately commented* These ideas w^ere 
 no sooner associated in his mind, than 
 he felt irresistibly impelled to return to 
 Halle, and investigate the truth of the 
 suggestion to which it had given birth. 
 With this intention > he slackened his 
 pace till his friends were at some dis- 
 tance, when turning his horse, thfe 
 Marquis gallopped back to the salt 
 works, and hastily enquired for the 
 young man whom he had left in the 
 crystal chamber. So suddenly was Vil* 
 lerose introduced to the unknown, that 
 it was in vain he sou^fht to conceal his 
 face. In that face, spirit, sense, and 
 worth w^ere conspicuous^ amidst the 
 grief and vexation which saddened his 
 features. This last feeling the Mar- 
 quis's ingenuous and engaging manners
 
 143 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 soon removed ; and the name of Jose* 
 phine completed the conquest of his 
 reserve, betraying what Villerose sus- 
 pected; that in this youth, he beheld 
 the lover of the mountain exile. 
 
 The Marquis could not forbear ex- 
 pressing in strong terms, his disappro- 
 bation of the cruelty, of which he had 
 been guilty, in leaving the confiding 
 Josephine, a prey to doubts and fears of 
 the most torturing nature. Christophe 
 acquitted himself of the charge with 
 feeling and spirit. He had parted from 
 his father on his re-iterating his prohi- 
 bition against marrying the object of 
 his choice, from a fear of exasperating 
 him, by urging him any further till he 
 could remove the suspicions which he 
 saw influenced him in his refusal ; and 
 was hastening to Josephine, with a view 
 to strengthen, by his own example, her 
 acquiescence in a temporary comphance 
 with his father's mandate, when in his 
 
 I
 
 OF ISES'SERG. 149 
 
 way to her, a party of soldiers rushed 
 upon him, and affecting to consider him 
 a young recruit, lately enlisted in the 
 service of the emperor^ forced him to ac- 
 company them to Rattenberg. 
 
 He there found an opportunity of 
 effecting his escape ; and had sought a 
 temporary asylum in the salt works, 
 hoping to remain concealed under the 
 disguise of a labourer, till the pursuit 
 after him should have ceased. 
 
 Villerose. satisfied with this explana- 
 tion, tendered Christophe his services to 
 the utmost extent of his power ; on 
 which he entreated as the Marquis re* 
 turned home, that he would convey an 
 account of his safety, and his faithful 
 intentions in her favor to Josephine. 
 With this commission Villerose de- 
 parted, and rejoining his friends at 
 Saltzburg, rejoiced them by the ac- 
 count he gave of the fortunate dis- 
 covery of Christophe, and his unabated 
 11 3
 
 160 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 affection for their little favorite moun- 
 taineer. 
 
 With their heads and hearts full of 
 schemes and good wishes for the youth- 
 ful lovers, the three travellers arose the 
 next morning, to make with all speed 
 their way to Isenberg. On their second 
 days journey, Villerose, attracted by a 
 bird of remarkable plumage, followed 
 the digressive way it had taken, to 
 catch another view of it, during which 
 his friends gained upon him, and he saw 
 them from the vale below, in which h^ 
 had rambled, slowly winding round an 
 eminence at some distance. 
 
 He immediately clapt spurs to his 
 horse, w^ith the intention of overtaking 
 them; but as he was turning into a 
 road, skirted on each side by a thick 
 wood, his steed was suddenly startled 
 by a pei^sons darting across his path, 
 with a velocity, evidently winged by 
 fear. The lightening glimpse his eye
 
 Of ISENBERG. 151 
 
 caught, conveyed to him the hkeness of 
 Christophe, but before he could follow 
 him, two soldiers, springing from the 
 same thicket from whence he had issued, 
 with breathless speed pursued the track 
 of the fugitive, and a moment after, the 
 report of a musket was distinctly heard. 
 
 The Marquis now pushed forward, 
 and was soon presented with the picture 
 of the unfortunate Christophe, faUing 
 lifeless at the feet of his merciless 
 enemies, who had thus outstripped the 
 rigour of mihtary discipline, by in- 
 humanly arresting his flight, even at the 
 expense of his life. 
 
 The soldiers seeing him without sens* 
 or motion, believed him dead, and pre* 
 cipitately left the scene of their atrocity 
 to seek their own safety by absconding ; 
 while Villerose, was too anxiously de- 
 voting his cares to the victim of their 
 cruelty, to notice their sudden flight. 
 
 Christophe had given some faint 
 H 4
 
 152 THE DAlKiHTERS 
 
 symptoms of returning life, when tlie 
 Marquis was joined by his friends, who 
 wondering at his long delay in coming 
 up with them, had returned to enquire 
 the cause. 
 
 With their assistance, the poor youth 
 was gently lifted on a horse, and thus 
 conveyed, slow as foot could fall, to a 
 cottage, which Don Alphonso had no- 
 ticed at no great distance. Here h^ 
 was lodged with every convenience it 
 could afford, and two servants were left 
 to attend and guard him, till his father 
 should arrive to take on him^self the gai'^ 
 of his son. 
 
 Sigismond and his friends then set 
 out, — De Lerma and himself for Schon- 
 brun, to send him medical assistance^ 
 and apprize Christophe's parent of his 
 situation ; while Yillerose undertook to 
 scale the assent to Josephine's hut, and 
 perform the promise he had given to her 
 unhappy lover, in the salt chamber on 
 the preceding day.
 
 OF ISENBERG. l53 
 
 The Marquis rejoiced the poor girl's 
 heart, by the assurance he gave her, 
 that her lover was faithful ; and as he 
 contemplated her innocent smiles, while 
 she listened to his narrative, he could 
 not prevail on himself to damp the hap- 
 piness, to which his intelhgence had 
 given birth, by recounting his recent ad- 
 venture. 
 
 Allowing Josephine, therefore, to 
 imagine Christophe still in the salt 
 works, he took his leave, after having 
 vainly offered to conduct her from her 
 present forlorn situation, to one of 
 safety; where she should be beyond 
 the tyranny of the Count de Schon- 
 brim, till her lover was at liberty to 
 marry her. 
 
 But the young mountaineer steadily 
 rejected this proposal, alleging, that by 
 braving the fury of their lord, she should 
 leave her father exposed to his ven- 
 geance, which he would assuredly exer- 
 H 5
 
 1^4 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 cise against him, on finding she was 
 beyond his reach. 
 
 Still more interested in her happiness, 
 by this proof of filial affection, and the 
 correctness of mind it evinced, the 
 Marquis joined his fi-iends, whom he 
 accompanied back to the cottage where 
 they had left the wounded hunter. 
 
 They found him restored to anima- 
 tion ; and were informed by the youth, 
 that after Viilerose had on the preceding 
 evening quitted him, a party of soldiers, 
 tracing him to the salt works, had pro- 
 secuted a diligent search through every 
 gallery. Fearing that if they succeeded 
 in securing him, it would avail him little 
 that he was conscious of being innocent 
 of the charges preferred against him, he 
 had, with the connivance of his com- 
 rades, effected his escape ; but by some 
 means, the pursuers had traced him to 
 the spot on which he had passed the 
 Marquis on the road.
 
 OF ISENBERG. I 6^ 
 
 Before quitting him, his noble friends 
 had the satisfaction of learning from the 
 surgeon, that his wound was inconsider- 
 able, and though weak from loss of 
 blood, that he was in a fair way of re- 
 covery. With this agreeable intelli- 
 gence they departed, to the great joy of 
 Villerose, whose impatience to again see 
 Carenthea, had grown to a very painful 
 height ; and without farther adventure, 
 the three travellers reached Isenberg, 
 the morning of the sixth day from that 
 of their quitting it. 
 
 B 6
 
 156 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 CHAP. VL 
 
 Soon after Sigismond and his friends 
 had entered the park, they were met 
 by a person, who requested of the 
 former the honor of a few minutes 
 audience ; on which, promising speedily 
 to follow his guests, he turned his horse 
 and accompanied the man who solicited 
 his attention. 
 
 Scarcely were they out of sight, when 
 Don Alphonso proposed their dis- 
 mounting, and strolling round the canal 
 to the p&gode des hains, a building 
 whose singular construction had excited 
 his curiosity. 
 
 Yillerose, whose watch told him it 
 yet wanted two hours of the time at 
 which the ladies were accustomed to
 
 OF ISENBEUG. ] 6? 
 
 join them, reixlily consented ; and they 
 reached the object of their search 
 through a thicket, which on one side 
 sheltered the edifice, and concealed 
 from those within, the approach of com- 
 pany, for the sound of music as they ad- 
 vanced apprized them that it was oc- 
 cupied. 
 
 The delicacy, and taste with which 
 the instrument was struck, attracted 
 their attention ; but in a short time they 
 became all ear, as a voice whose liquid 
 notes expressed sensibility and sweet- 
 ness, began an air, to which the harp now 
 formed only a soft accompaniment. 
 
 For some time the youths stood sus- 
 pended, and doubtful w^ho could be the 
 musician, capable of breathing forth 
 such touching tonet; (as they had never 
 heard the Baroness or either of her 
 daughters perform) and they evidently 
 proceeded from the room above them, 
 whose windows were thrown open.
 
 15S THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 " It must be Carenthea/^ whispered the 
 Marquis ; " she alone possesses the 
 power of thus instantly seizing on the 
 heart/' 
 
 " And yet/' rephed De Lerma ; " she 
 positively denied the other evening 
 having any skill in the science.'' 
 
 " If/' rejoined Villerose with energy, 
 *' her soul correspond with the form it 
 animates, it must be harmony itself! 
 but whither are you going ?" 
 
 " I fear," said Don Alphonso ; "we 
 may incur the imputation of imperti- 
 nence, should we be surprised as listen- 
 ers ;" and as he spoke he took the arm 
 of his friend to draw him from the steps 
 of the building on which he had thrown 
 himself. " Go thou man of marble,'^ 
 said the Marquis ; but leave me here to 
 incur the penalty my fault — if such it 
 can be deemed, may draw on me." 
 
 De Lerma, finding his friend im- 
 moveable, immediately turned an angle
 
 OF ISENBEllG. 159 
 
 of the pagode, which shut him from his 
 sight, and he was about to re-enter the 
 thickef, when the captivating grace with 
 which a fine cadence was just then ex- 
 ecuted, arrested him under an opposite 
 w^indow, which opening from the same 
 apartment, as that he had just quitted, 
 gave him an equal opportunity of hsten- 
 ing to the termination of the charming 
 air that attracted them. 
 
 The next minute the musician ceased, 
 xmd Carenthea was heard to say. 
 " Thank you, my dear, I would beg 
 you to repeat once more that delightful 
 rondo, but that I at this moment feel so 
 lively an impatience to know your se- 
 veral opinions of Don Alphonso and the 
 Marquis, that I cannot resist calling on 
 you instantly to give me that satis- 
 faction/' 
 
 If the powers of the musician had, in 
 spite of their sense of propriety, de- 
 tained the Cavaliers as listeners, these
 
 160 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 words seemed to produce a still more 
 potent influence. No longer thoughtful 
 of decorum, they strained every sense 
 to catch the answers to a question for 
 which they were so little prepared. 
 
 In vain did they hold their breath, 
 that not an accent might escape them. 
 Some minutes passed, 'and Carenthea 
 received no reply. At length she said. 
 " Did you suspect, Pauline, that I 
 envied you your partner the other 
 evening ?" 
 
 " Impossible !" observed her sister ; 
 " I am very certain you would not have 
 exchanged with me, your gay and agree- 
 able Marquis ?'^ 
 
 " Indeed, but I would, '^ rephed she 
 quickly ; " I don't know that I like gay 
 people; at least I am sure the Marquis 
 De Villerose would always cease to be 
 amusing to me, w^hen, by forcing me to 
 listen to himself, he prevents me from at- 
 tending to his every way superior friend.*^
 
 OF IS£NBERC, l6l 
 
 Alas ! poor Villerose I he was at that 
 moment most severely smarting under 
 the punishment denounced against list- 
 eners. His whole soul was in tumults 
 —he would have fled, but his strength 
 seemed to have forsaken him with his 
 hopes, and he felt compelled to hear the 
 continuation of a conversation, whose 
 beginning was equally replete with mor- 
 tification to his self-love, and his most 
 earnest wishes. 
 
 Don Alphonso, on the contraiy, was 
 surprised and affected by what he heard 
 — but blushed at its reaching him in a 
 way he felt to be so unworthy. It was 
 with mingled sensations of gratified 
 pride, and bitter self-reproach, that he 
 now hastily prosecuted the original in- 
 tention with which he had quitted his 
 friend, and plunging into the thicket, 
 rapidly retraced the way they had to- 
 gether, a short time before traversed. 
 
 " Every way superior ?^^ replied Fau-
 
 162 ITIE DAUGHTERS 
 
 line; *^ I cannot agree with you — naV;, 
 I think the Marquis has — though very 
 different — equal recommendations with 
 his friend. To say the truth, I should 
 be greatly puzzled w^hich to name, were 
 I compelled to give a preference to 
 either/^ 
 
 " So should not I/^ said a voice, 
 whose soft and melting tones penetrated 
 the afflicted heart of Villerose. " I differ 
 from you both.'^ 
 
 *' Surely,'^ interrupted Carenthea ; 
 (the Marquis thought the interruption 
 most unseasonable) surely Viola, you did 
 not envy me my partner. 
 
 " No,*' replied she in the same gentle 
 accents. " I was too much occupied 
 with the pleasure of dancing, in which 
 I do dehght, to remark particularly either 
 of the Cavaliers on that evening, nor did 
 I ever make a comparison between them 
 till the day before their departure.^' 
 
 *' I am to infer then,'^ said Pauline
 
 OF ISENBERG. J65 
 
 ^' that when you ^i J find leisure to make 
 one, my little Viola, its result was fa- 
 vorable to the Marquis ?" 
 
 <i Very favorable/^ said the ingenuous 
 girl ; ** while he was playing at battle- 
 dore and shuttlecock with Isidore, I 
 •took such pleasure in watching him, that 
 I was several times on the point of for- 
 getting the skein of silk I was holding 
 for the lady Marguerite to wind — he 
 was so graceful ! and when he addressed 
 Isidore, there was such a sweetness in 
 his manner-^I could not help wishing 
 he had asked me to play with him also/^ 
 
 " Well,*^ said Carenthea ; " allowing 
 that the Marquis is more expert, at that 
 very scientific game, than his friend, I 
 think you would ^nd it diificult to point 
 out any other instance in w^hich he 
 eclipses him?" 
 
 " In my eyes he eclipsed him in the 
 conversation which followed on that 
 same evening,*' replied Viola,
 
 164 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 *' There your partiality a little blinded 
 you/' retorted Carenthea in a voice of 
 pique ; " since I believe you were the 
 only one present who did not feel, that 
 Don Alphonso had the best of the ar- 
 gument/' 
 
 " Which gave the Marquis an oppor- 
 tunity of yielding with that charming 
 ingenuousness, on his conviction that 
 he had been in an error, that so greatly 
 struck me," replied Viola, with more 
 animation than she had before spoken. 
 
 " Who would have suspected that 
 you w^ere so sly an observer ?" remarked 
 the smiling Pauline, " I should have 
 imagined you had been too much taken 
 up with your embroidery, to have noticed 
 so critically what passed. But on re- 
 flection, 1 am of opinion that you were 
 the only person present, whose nice dis- 
 cernment, did justice to the Marquis on 
 that occasion. Such an instance of ge- 
 nerosity in yielding on a conviction of
 
 OP ISENBERG. 165 
 
 error, evinces a liberality, far more rarely 
 to be met with, than persons possessing 
 understandings capable of maintaining, 
 even a wrong cause. We should there- 
 fore I'egard it as a proof of superior great- 
 ness of soul, that Monsieur ViJlerose, 
 ■who had at first certainly combated his 
 point with some warmth, acknowledged 
 himself afterwards to have been subdued 
 by his adversary.'^' 
 
 " Well !" said Carenthea saucily, " in 
 my eyes, he who has ingenuity to main- 
 tain his point, right or wrong, will ever 
 shine at the expence of his subdued ad^ 
 versary^ though he yield ever so grace" 
 folly ; for I cannot think it becoming in 
 any one to yield, except to myself,'^ 
 added she in a lower tone — that must be 
 always agreeable, but as we seem to see 
 these matters in a different point of view, 
 we may as well dismiss the unworthy 
 subject, and driv^e it out of our heads by 
 one more repetition of my mysterious
 
 \66 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 rondo ? Make haste therefore my good 
 Viola, or we shall not have time to get 
 back to the chateau, and dress before 
 the return of these same Vaimens^ who 
 have occupied more of our leisure, than 
 their merits deserve.'^ 
 
 Immediately the same thrilling notes 
 smote the ear of the bewildered Marquis, 
 which had at first riveted him to the 
 spot — the same clear, yet soft tones com- 
 posed and " soothed his soiilto pleasure/^ 
 Soon after the air was concluded, the 
 three sisters descended, and issuing 
 through the portico on the opposite side 
 of the building, hastened to the chateau, 
 w^ithout having suspected the intruders, 
 who had with such " gi'eedy ears, de- 
 voured up their discourse/' When Vil- 
 lerose imagined the nymphs werc out 
 of sight, he arose from his recumbent 
 posture, with the intention of following 
 them at an unnoticed distance to the 
 mansion ; but as he was making the cir-
 
 OF ISENBERG. 167 
 
 cuit of the edifice, in pursuance of this 
 intention, he felt himself powerfully ex- 
 cited to enter it. 
 
 For some minutes he stood examining 
 its exterior, which he found well worthy 
 his observation. This remarkable build- 
 ing, which consisted of one story, was 
 constructed on the plan of a Chinese 
 temple, nor can any thing be imagined 
 more pleasing than its general effect. 
 
 He crossed the portico, and found diat 
 the ground floor consisted of an octagon 
 vestibule, and several other apartments, 
 ornamented with stucco, and paintings 
 of great value, besides the baths, which 
 were completely lined with marble, and 
 enriched by appropriate decorations, the 
 productions of eminent masters. 
 
 From the vestibule, wound a staircase 
 conducting to one magnificent room 
 above, w^hich formed the dome of the 
 temple, and was unique of its kind, 
 Villerose found on his approaching it,
 
 16S THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 that it was furnished in the Indian style, 
 the neat and elegant effect of which was 
 particularly striking* From some of ii% 
 windows was seen the grand canal, orna- 
 mented by cascades and statues ; and 
 beyond .it a fine plantation of noble 
 trees formed an amphitheatre, equally 
 bold and luxuriant. Within this temple 
 (so was the upper saloon called) seemed 
 to be collected, every requisite for the 
 gratification of refinement and taste. 
 
 Books, a fine collection of shells and 
 fossils scientifically arranged, with the 
 apparatus for the practising the various 
 elegant arts, were all assembled here. 
 
 The Marquis was at first checked from 
 ientering this shrine, by a timidity he had 
 never before felt ! was it consciousness 
 of the unjustifiable action he had that 
 morning committed, w hich thus affected 
 him ? Whatever the cause, he remained 
 some time irresolute, before he ventured 
 to proceed beyond the door way.
 
 OP ISENBERG. 169 
 
 Opposite to him stood the harp of 
 the musician, who had a short time be- 
 fore so dehghtfully regaled his senses ; 
 the cantata she had been singing still 
 lay open on the desk, and at length im* 
 pelled by a lively desire to peruse the 
 words which he had very imperfectly 
 heard, he advanced, and read thes^ 
 lines : 
 
 * Cupid with Carcnth^a 
 Once play'd at cards for kisses. 
 
 He stakM his quiver, bow, and arrows. 
 His mother's doves, and team of sparrows. 
 At last he set her both his eyes 
 She won — ^and Cupid blind did rise." 
 
 " Oh 1 vanity !'* exclaimed Villerose ; 
 *' to thee do I trace the pleasure with 
 which the subject of these verses, de- 
 lights in their repetition,^' and as he 
 
 * The above lines are slightly altered from some 
 verses, written by Jolin Litye, a celebrated dramati 
 writer, in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 170 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 spoke, hastily snatching a pencil which 
 by near him, he wrote under them,^ 
 
 Love ! of tliine eyes she cheated thee 
 Least fairer Viola thou should'st sec ! 
 But her sweet strains, defeat the art 
 And thro* thy ear subdue thy heart. 
 
 As with a pique, engendered by mpr- 
 tified pride, the Marquis repeated the 
 two last lines of this extemporaneous 
 effusion, he crossed the apartment to a 
 little table, over which were scattered 
 the materials for forming artificial flowers. 
 Some lay there in a half-finished state-m- 
 others were completed, and might well 
 have rivalled those from which they 
 were imitated. 
 
 At a Httle distance was placed a music 
 shell, of remarkable beauty, and in high 
 preservation, with a neatly finished 
 copy, which he concluded to have been 
 the occupation of Pauline, of whose 
 industry in the study of conchology, he
 
 OF ISENBERG. 171 
 
 had been informed by Sigismond. It 
 was correctly and delicately executed. 
 
 To an opposite table Villerose was 
 now attracted by an object, which in- 
 stantly fixed his attention in pleased ad- 
 miration, it w^s a small figure ex- 
 quisitely, modelled in wax, in whose 
 beautiful features he immediately recog- 
 nized his little favorite Isidore. The 
 boy with an expression equally tender 
 and mournful, was caressing a young 
 fawn ; and by his attitude and mannef, 
 appeared promising it his protection. 
 
 This chef d^oeuvre, such it appeared 
 to the Marquis — long detained him m 
 the examination of its excellencies. 
 Greatly did it excite his interest, but 
 still more strongly rouse his curiosity to 
 discover who was the delicate artist ; for 
 that it was the production of one of the 
 daughters of the house of Isenberg, he 
 naturally suspected, since the fawn was 
 not quite completed, and some im- 
 i2
 
 175 THE DAtJGHTERS 
 
 wrought pieces of wax were lying on 
 the table near it. 
 
 He was now forced, though reluctant- 
 ly, to quit the contemplation of this in- 
 teresting subject, by the sound of the 
 first dinner bell, which warned him that 
 he had not another moment to lin^^xer. 
 
 Hurrying out of the building, there- 
 fore, with rapid steps, he returned to 
 the chateau, and hastened to his apart- 
 ment; where he had scarcely time to 
 change his apparel, before the last sum- 
 mons to dinner forced him into the pre- 
 sence of objects, whom he could not 
 now meet, without emotion. 
 
 In crossing the hall in his way to join 
 the family, he was encountered by Sigis- 
 mond, who apologizing for the length of 
 time he had been detained from Isen- 
 berg, accompanied him into the sa/le a 
 wfifwj^/V where they found ail the rest of 
 the party, already assembled. 
 
 Two vacant places remained at the
 
 OF ISENBERG. 173 
 
 table, the one between the Lady Mar- 
 guerite and Paidine, the other on the 
 opposite side, which separated Viola 
 and the Baron. While Villerose hesi- 
 tated which to take, the Lady Mar- 
 guerite waved him to approach her, and 
 scarcely knowing what he did, the Mar- 
 quis, with precipitation, took possession 
 of the chair next hers. 
 
 Yet it should appear he had no cause 
 for hesitation, since that seat for which 
 he was wont alone to have a preference— 
 that seat, which he had hitherto always 
 occupied with so much pleasure, was 
 not now within his choice. De Lerma 
 was in full possession of it ; and the 
 gratified Carenthea, absorbed in the 
 pleasure his attentions gave her, saw not 
 — or affected not to see, that his friend 
 had entered the room. 
 
 This marked indifference, in spite of 
 his better resolutions, wounded and 
 affected him so greatly, that for a time
 
 174 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 he forgot the determination with which 
 he quitted the pagoda — that of seeking 
 to discover which of the sisters had ex- 
 ecuted the sweet model, whose living 
 image was now before him. By degrees 
 his agitation subsided, and he cast his 
 eyes around him,, in the hope of dis;- 
 covering some ckie to guide him to the 
 truth. 
 
 The soft voice of Viola was at that 
 moment addressing her brother, but her 
 accents were so low, that scarcely a sen- 
 tence reached him ; the tone, however, 
 recalled certain recollections soothing to 
 his feehngs. 
 
 Although her face was turned from 
 him towards Sigismond, he regarded her 
 steadily, and remarked that her beautiful 
 hair was decorated with a wreath of 
 flowers, similar to some of those he had 
 examined in the temple. 
 
 *' She cannot be the artist,^' thought 
 he ; '^ whose work has so greatly attract-
 
 OF ISENBERG. 175 
 
 ed me — no, the composition of those 
 flowers, is a far more natural occupation 
 at her age. I have been unreasonable 
 to feel indignant, that the superior ge- 
 nius of her sister, directs her preference 
 to my friend — so much more worthy of 
 it/' Villerose sighed as the conviction 
 pressed on his mind, that even the pro- 
 ductions of Carenthea's hours of retire- 
 meiit, possessed charms, which in spite 
 of himself, captivated his admiration. 
 
 " I suspect," observed the Baroness 
 in a friendly tone : " that Monsieur le 
 Marquis has not entirely shaken off 
 the effect of the scene, by the relation 
 only of which — Sigismond has so deeply 
 interested us all ?" 
 
 Why should this rernark have discon- 
 certed Villerose; was he ashamed of 
 being suspected to possess a heart sus- 
 ceptible of generous feeling ; or did it 
 proceed from a consciousness, that his 
 \inusually grave depoTtment sprang fVori) 
 I 4
 
 176 THE DAUCiHTERS 
 
 a cause, whose investigation he dreaded. 
 Whatever its origin, his face was in- 
 stantly suffused with crimson, the sen- 
 sation of which redoubled his embar- 
 rassment. 
 
 '' Sister/^ said the Lady Marguerite ; 
 " I noted well the observations of my 
 nephew, your son, touching this affair, 
 and think the Marquis's exertions, ^ 
 related by him, savor greatly of that 
 true maximity of soul, which ought 
 ever to emanate from those highly born, 
 yet pardon me if I attribute to a reason 
 different from yourself, the subject of 
 your animadversions being just now, 
 somewhat elinguid. 
 
 Villerose quite unable to guess to 
 
 what this speech tended, ventured not 
 
 Ao raise his looks from the soup, to 
 
 which he had been just served—and the 
 
 Lady Marguerite proceeded. — 
 
 *' To a youth fond of research, it ap- 
 pears to me very natural that any recent
 
 OF ISENBERG. 177 
 
 matters which have formed the objects 
 of his examination, should furnish him 
 with immediate topics for cogitation ; 
 otherwise they w^ould be too frequently 
 marcessible frorri his memory/^ 
 
 " I hope," said Carenthea, with an 
 iirchness which Don Alphonso thought 
 peculiarly becoming. *' I hope your 
 cogitations are just now as profitably em- 
 ployed, as those of your friend, pray 
 do not let me break in upon them.^* 
 
 -Although this was spoken in an un- 
 der voice, it reached the attentive ear of 
 the Marquis, as did the flattering an- 
 swer it was calculated to draw forth. 
 
 " Villerose,'^ said Sigismond; " I 
 shall request that you will by-and-bye 
 satisfy my sister Viola's curiosity res- 
 pecting the manner, in which our moun- 
 tain shepherdess, received the joyful in- 
 telligence, with which, full fraught, you 
 so knight-errant-like scaled the barriers 
 between you. She wants to know how 
 I 5
 
 l78 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 she looked — what she said, and other 
 matters, with which you, who alone 
 witnessed them, are competent to ac- 
 quaint her/' 
 
 " I shall be too happy, '^ replied the 
 Marquis, with a hesitation very unusual 
 to him ; "in the power of supplying 
 any deficiency in your narrative, w hich 
 may be thought w^orthy to excite in- 
 terest;*^ and as he spoke, he bowed 
 with a mixture of diffidence and plea- 
 sure to Viola, w^ho acknowledged her 
 sense of his politeness, by a look ex- 
 pressive of candour and benevolence. 
 
 What a sweet countenance thought 
 Villerose, as his eye dwelt on it some 
 time, after her attention was directed to 
 Isidore ; to whose prattle she was now 
 listening, with an affectionate indul- 
 gence, which he thought engagingly 
 amiable. 
 
 It was in fact the first time the Mar- 
 q.uis had ever noticed this fascinating
 
 OF ISENBERG. 179 
 
 girl ; the more brilliant Carenthea, at 
 once, seized on his imagination ; and 
 her innate coquetry had hitherto con- 
 trived so completely to amuse and en- 
 gross him, that but for the correction 
 she had lately given his judgment, by 
 deeply wounding his self-love, it is 
 probable he would still have remained 
 insensible to the modestlv retirino:, but 
 superior excellence of her sister. 
 
 ** I am fortunate,'^ said the Baron; 
 *^ in possessing some influence over the 
 Count de Schonbrun, and flatter myself 
 I shall be able to conclude this aflair 
 very happily. Be assured Marquis, I 
 will use my best endeavours for the full 
 success of your wishes. And now let 
 me ask Chevaliers, if the objects of your 
 little excursion, have answered your ex- 
 pectations." 
 
 Both gentlemen warmly replying in 
 the affirmative, Sigismond remarked, 
 " that Villerose and himself had derived'^ 
 i6
 
 180 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 peculiar pleasure from the inspection of 
 the salt works at Reichenhall ; but he 
 could scarcely flatter himself that De 
 Lerma who had visited the celebrated 
 mines of Viheza in Poland, could have 
 participated in the pleasure which an 
 entirely new scene afforded them/* 
 
 *' You are mistaken my friend/^ he 
 replied; " if you imagine my having 
 visited those mines, could lessen my 
 pleasure in the present instance ; since 
 the process is so entirely different, that 
 the works in question possess not more 
 completely tlie charms pf novelty to you 
 than to myself/' 
 
 '* May I petition, Don Alphonso. for 
 your enarration of what particulars con- 
 stitute their difference ?" said the Lady 
 Marguerite. 
 
 " Undoubtedly,^' replied De Lerma, 
 with his usually mild gravity. " Your 
 ladyship is, I presume, perfectly conver- 
 sant with the plan pursued in the Ba- 
 varian works ?'^
 
 OF ISENBERG. fgl 
 
 " You will nevertheless oblige me by 
 detailing it, whereby you may recall 
 sundry particulars to my memory which 
 have escaped it/^ 
 
 Don Alphonso, with a bow of ac- 
 quiescence thus proceeded: '' In your 
 salt works, the article in question is 
 crystalized by boiling the water which 
 issues from your salt springs. You are, 
 I imagine, aware that it is raised from 
 thence, and conveyed to the work house 
 by means of a large w^heel, round whose 
 circumference are attached buckets, 
 formed of leather; which, as it turns, 
 constantly fill, and discharge their con- 
 tents into the reservoir, prepared to re-: 
 ceive the water. In the manufactory, 
 are half a dozen pans, into each of 
 which the fluid is successively con- 
 ducted and boiled during six days, at 
 the end of which period the process is 
 completed.^' 
 
 *' In what way does the preparation of
 
 18§ THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 the Vilieza salt differ ?'^ asked the Ba- 
 roness. 
 
 " In these mines/' replied De Lerma, 
 *' nature has saved man the labor of this 
 process, by presenting the saline trea- 
 sures to him, ready prepared for his ne- 
 cessity. The salt found at Vilieza is so 
 free from all extraneous particles, that 
 the miners have little more to do than 
 to dig, collect, pound, and pack it in 
 barrels. Although these remarkable 
 mines have been already worked above 
 five hundred years, and have more than 
 supplied all Poland with their produce, 
 they appear to be inexhaustible.^' 
 
 '• I have heard,'' observed the Baron, 
 " that the mines of Vilieza, if considered 
 as objects of curiosity, afford higher 
 gratification than any others in Europe. 
 Are you of that opinion, Don Al- 
 phonso ?" 
 
 " They are greatly superior to any I 
 have elsewhere seen," he replied, " and
 
 OF ISENBERG. l8S 
 
 although some years have now passed 
 since I descended into them, I still re- 
 member with pleasure the sensation I 
 experienced, after having been let down; 
 to the depth of two hundred and thirty 
 feet, on being led by my conductor 
 through illuminated galleries, so lofty 
 and spacious, as to impress me with the 
 idea that I was traversing some magnifi- 
 cent subterranean palace. 
 
 " These galleries terminated in two 
 chapels, hewn entirely out of the solid 
 mass. I cannot give you an idea of the 
 beautiful — the almost magic effect, pro-- 
 duced by the reflection of the lights 
 carried by my guides, on the points and 
 spars of the pillars and ornaments that 
 decorated the chapels ; which as well 
 as the images that adorned the altars, 
 were all composed of the same brilliant 
 and transparent materials.^' 
 
 " Oh, charming V^ exclaimed Isidore ; 
 who, attracted by the latter part of De-
 
 184 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 Lerma's description, had been listening 
 with eyes sparkhng with pleasure. " I 
 dare sa}^ you were in some enchanted 
 palace, though you had not yet met* 
 with the magician who inhabited it.'^ 
 
 The smiling Baroness gently recom- 
 mending silent attention to her animated 
 boy, entreated De Lerma to favor them 
 by proceeding in his interesting descrip- 
 tion. He obeyed: but desirous of hu- 
 mouring the idea Isidore had conceived, 
 whom he had a few days before found 
 deeply engaged in reading the " Ara^ 
 bian Nights Entertainments,'^ he con- 
 tinued in these words : 
 
 " Perceiving neither genius, magician, 
 dwarf, nor fairy, in these temples of 
 crystal, I descended lower into the 
 earth by means of ladders, till I found 
 myself in an immense hall or cavern of 
 salt, many hundred feet in height, 
 breadth, and length ; the floor and sides 
 of which were cut with exquisite nicety^
 
 OF ISENBERG. IS6 
 
 On first entering this vast subterranean 
 apartment, the flambeaux of my con- 
 ductors but faintly discovered its prodi- 
 gious magnitude, and left my imagina- 
 tion to enlarge it indefinitely. But as 
 we approached its sides/^ pursued Don 
 Alphonso, fixing his eyes on the de- 
 lighted Isidore, " they appeared to my 
 dazzled sight covered with the most 
 precious gems, of every size and colour. 
 Here the briUiant topaz — there the 
 glowing ruby — rivalled by the rich emer- 
 ald, and the sparkling diamond, every 
 where shone with resplendent bright- 
 ness. — Yet still no genius appeared .^^ 
 
 " But were did you find the wonder- 
 ful lamp ?" eagerly demanded Isidore, 
 who really believed that De Lerma had 
 descended into the cavern of Aladin. 
 " Had you rubbed it, the genii would 
 soon have made their appearance/^ 
 
 " I discovered no lamp in this sub- 
 terranean palace,'^ replied Don Al-
 
 186 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 phonso, " but those carried by some of 
 my guides ; and after passing several 
 hours in it, I expressed a wish of being 
 restored once more to open day. Within 
 four minutes after this desire had es- 
 caped me, I found myself at the mouth 
 of the aperture through which I had 
 descended. ^^ 
 
 " Did you not find the air extremely 
 oppressive, so many hundred feet below 
 the surface of the earth ?" asked the 
 Baroness. 
 
 " By no means, ^^ replied De Lerma. 
 " It was cool and pleasant in these 
 Polish mines, though in some others I 
 have felt it far otherwise.'^ 
 
 *' I look to the regula of such esta- 
 blishments,*^ said the Lady Marguerite, 
 " and think it exoptable to supplicate 
 your exegetical history of the mines of 
 Viheza." 
 
 " At the time I visited them,^^ said 
 Don Alphonso, " there were between
 
 OF ISENBERG. 187 
 
 eight and nine hundred persons em- 
 ployed in working them; but ai 
 some part of the year, not more than 
 half that number are engaged. These 
 laborers, who never sleep below, descend 
 at four in the morning, and quit the 
 mines at the same hour in the afternoon, 
 when their place is supplied by another 
 set of miners. About fifty horses are 
 used in this work, which constantly 
 remain below." 
 
 '' The revenue arising from these 
 mines must be very considerable," re- 
 marked the Baron ; " and if I mistake 
 not, constitute part of the domain of the 
 crown."* 
 
 " You are perfectly right,*' rephed De 
 Lerma, " they are regarded in Poland 
 as the chief source of regal wealth.^ 
 
 * This was some years before the partition of 
 Poland. On that memorable event it is well 
 known the mines of Vilieza fell to Maria Theresa, 
 as a part of her share.
 
 188 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 " Are there any females employed in 
 the subterranean recesses of which we 
 are speaking ?" asked the Baroness. 
 
 " Never/' said Don Alphonso, " no 
 woman is permitted to descend into 
 them/' 
 
 " And a very sagacious ordination/^ 
 observed the Lady Marguerite. — " I 
 hold it to be one of singular optimity.^' 
 
 While the latter part of this con- 
 versation was passing, A^iola with great 
 sweetness, was in a low voice, assuring 
 the eager Isidore, that the extraordinary 
 subterranean palace, which Don Al* 
 phonso had just described, resembled in 
 nothinoc the cavern of Aladin, but in its 
 being situated beneath the earth. 
 
 Yillerose lent to her his whole atten- 
 tion, and was charmed with the clear, 
 yet simple language, in which she ren- 
 dered comprehensible to his young mind 
 what had, in reality, produced the won- 
 derful appearances, which he had been
 
 OF ISENBERG. 189 
 
 SO greatly transported by hearing. She 
 ended by promising him, she would the 
 next morning answer all his enquiries, 
 provided he would now allow her to 
 attend to the conversation. To this he 
 readily consented; and the Marquis, 
 from a certain consciousness, fearful of 
 being detected contemplating her, has- 
 tily withdrew from her face, iiis regards. 
 It was almost unintentionally that he 
 snatched a furtive glance at Carenthea, 
 who was at that moment entirely en- 
 gaged by the description Don Alphonso 
 was giving of the method by which a 
 part of the briny fluid, issuing trom the 
 salt spring of Reichenhall, was convey- 
 ed over high mountains, through leaden 
 pipes, to Traunstein, distant three 
 German miles from its source. He took 
 great pains to explain to the ladies, in 
 what way the machines, which were 
 erected at proper distances on the moun- 
 tains, for the purpose of forcing the
 
 199 THE DAtGHTERS 
 
 water through those pipes, were acted 
 on, by springs, gushing from the rocks, 
 on w^hich they were situated. 
 
 The Marquis morahzed as he re- 
 marked the undivided attention which, 
 the usually giddy Carenthea, was de- 
 voting to a subject, he was convinced 
 she would not have listened to from 
 himself; while the questions, she from 
 time to time asked De Lerma, equally 
 flattered the person to whom they were 
 addressed, and convinced Villerose, 
 that she not only entered into the elu- 
 cidation he was giving her, but felt 
 anxious to render herself complete mis- 
 tress of it. 
 
 *' Can this lively volatile girl V 
 thought Villerose, " really feel all the 
 pleasure her bewitching countenance 
 expresses, in listening to a topic, so 
 little calculated to interest her. Alas ! 
 yes ! — there is no affectation in those 
 engaging smiles. In her fancy, the
 
 OF ISENBERG. 191 
 
 speaker breathes a charm over all which- 
 escapes his lips. Happy De Lerma ! — 
 yet, unconscious— ' unmindful of thy 
 happiness !'^ 
 
 Villerose was roused from the reverie 
 into which these reflections had thrown 
 him, by the Baroness, who enquired 
 if he had not accompanied his friend 
 into Poland, 
 
 On his replying that he had joined 
 him in that country, soon after De Ler- 
 ma*s visit to the mines of Vilieza. the 
 lady asked what object had appeared to 
 him most w'orthy his inspection. 
 
 " I wnll candidly confess,'^ rephed the 
 Marquis ( making an effort to speak with 
 his accustomed animation) " I will can- 
 didly confess that the object which 
 most interested me, in that kingdom, 
 was the tomb of its greatest monarch." 
 
 " I apprehend you allude to the sire 
 of our deceased electress, Theresa," ob- 
 served the Lady Marguerite, with emo-
 
 192 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 tion. " Mean you not the illustrious 
 Sobieski ?^' 
 
 " I do/* replied Villerose, " and on 
 my first visit to the cathedral of Cracow, 
 in which repose his ashes, so inconsi- 
 derate was I, as to be surprised and 
 grieved, at finding no monument erected 
 there to his memory. But reflection 
 has since taught me to appreciate the 
 hont)r his countr}^ intended him, by the 
 omission. . The republic well knew he 
 had himself raised so proud a monument 
 of his unrivalled fame, that no sculp- 
 tured marble was necessary to insure its 
 immortality.*' 
 
 " I well remember,'' said De Lerma, 
 " that leaving my friend, enthusi- 
 astically contemplating the unornament- 
 ed tomb of that great man, I amused 
 myself sometime in the examination of 
 the other regal mausoleums which deco- 
 rate the building-; when on returning to 
 the spot, where I still believed Villerose
 
 OF ISENBERG. 193 
 
 to be, I found he had vanished. Uncer- 
 tain where to seek him, I wandered 
 over the royal palace, within wliose walls 
 stands the cathedral; at length I dis- 
 covered him on the ramparts, so rapt in 
 contemplation, as to be unmindful of 
 my approach. 1 imagined the beautiful 
 city of Cracow — the course of the Vis- 
 tula — and the extensive country beyond 
 it, (which our elevated situation com- 
 manded) were so deeply engaging his 
 admiration ; but I soon discovered that 
 his eyes, passing over the lovely land- 
 scape, were intently fixed on the far 
 distant Carpathian mountains, which 
 formed the boundary towards Hungary ; 
 those mountains, whose summits were 
 white with snow, or lost in the clouds." 
 '' It is very true,^' said the Marquis, 
 smiling; '' I was lost in recalling the 
 march of the Polish hero, when con- 
 ducting over desart wastes, in the most 
 inclement season, his victorious troops, 
 
 VOL. p. K
 
 194 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 again to visit their native soil, after' 
 assisting their monarch in the glorious, 
 and ever memorable rehef of Vienna/' 
 
 " Your enthusiastic admiration of 
 Sobieski/^ said the Baron, '* will greatly 
 endear you to my sister; who, though 
 considerably her junior, was for many 
 years honored by very particular marks 
 of his daughter's friendship and affection- 
 ate confidence. After the Princess 
 Theresa, by her marriage \\\ih Charles 
 Emanuel, became Electress of Bavaria, 
 she selected my mother as her principal 
 favorite, and sincerely attached herself 
 to the whole house of Isenberg. My 
 Bister was by these means early intro- 
 duced to her court; and in the. end, 
 became the depository of her dearest se- 
 crets. The filial respect with which 
 that princess ever spoke of her illustrious 
 parent, irresistibly kindled enthusiasm 
 in all who hstened to her. Judge then 
 of its effect ^on the young mind of th^
 
 O^ ISENBERG, 19i 
 
 Lady Marguerite, to whom in her hourij 
 ©f sorrow and poignant regret at his 
 loss, she indulged herself in the most 
 amiable effusions of filial admiration ; 
 and in recounting all his endearing a^ 
 well as all his magnanimous qualities. 
 It is now five-and-twenty years since 
 the decease of the Electress ; imme? 
 diately after which event,, my sister^ 
 who attended her during her la^t mo? 
 ments, retired to vent the grief occa- 
 sioned by her loss, in the solitude of 
 this chateau. From which time she 
 h^s resolutely refused quitting it for the> 
 gayer scenes of a court*" 
 
 '• Allow me to add a claim which the< 
 memory of the great Sobieski possesses^ 
 to the gratitude^ as well as admiration of 
 our respected L^dy Marguerite," said 
 the Baroness; "It is one on which I 
 have often heard her dwell with plea- 
 sure ; that of the Germanic capital, if not- 
 the empire itself, having once owed, to,^
 
 196 THE DAtTOKTERS 
 
 him its preservation. But I hop?, 
 Marquis, you did not quit Poland with- 
 out having seen the favorite retreat of 
 that monarch — the palace of Viilanow ?" 
 " After Villerose's second visit to the 
 tomb of Sobieski/^ said Don Alphonso, 
 " nothing could detach him from imme- 
 diately setting out to view the spot, on* 
 which the hero breathed his last. We 
 Teached the plain were Viilanow standf? 
 an hour before sun-set. It is situated 
 two leagues beyond Warsaw, near a 
 branch of the Vistula. Its architecture, 
 as did the min-d of its constructor, com- 
 bines elegance with grandeur, and I was 
 sometime engaged in examining, with 
 Fio common pleasure, the 'orders of its 
 structure, Meanwhile my'" friend ab- 
 ruptly quitted me, to wander amongst 
 its princely gardens. On my joining 
 him there, I found him pensively travers- 
 ing its paths, rendered gloomy by the 
 iclemn umbrage its venerable trees
 
 OF ISENBERG. 197 
 
 threw over them ; and in the language 
 of the bards of other times, was he to 
 this effect apostrophrsing their hallowed 
 shades : ' Your king of heroes is low, 
 who bent the strong in arms, but spared 
 the feeble hand ; he was a stream of 
 many tides against the foes of his 
 people, but like the gale that moves the 
 grass, to those who asked his aid. His 
 arm was the support of the injured, the 
 weak rested behind the lightning of his 
 shield. But your king of heroes is low, 
 blasts sigh lonely on his tomb.^ After a 
 pause of some minutes, he added: 
 ' Yet the vahant must fall in their 
 day, and be no more heard on their hills. 
 They set like stars which hav^e shone, 
 and we only hear the sound of their 
 praise. Thus shall we pass away in the 
 days of our fall. My friend, said Ville- 
 rose, turning towards me, whom he had 
 not before observed to be near him ; 
 ' Then let us be renowned while we 
 k3
 
 198 THE DAl/GffTERS 
 
 may, and leave our fame behind us, fike 
 the last hours of the sun, when he hides 
 his red head in the west ! '^ 
 
 "Does the Marquis often indulge 
 himself in such flights of romance?'^ 
 asked Caranthea, in a tone of ridicule, 
 wliich entirely disconcerted Villerose. 
 
 To conceal from the saucy cause of 
 his embarrassment, the crimson tide 
 which he felt impetuously rush to 
 overspread his face, he turned towards 
 Sigismond with an intention of making 
 some observation, which might give g 
 change to the discourse, now beconrm 
 painful, by rendering him the principal 
 object of notice ; but he found his 
 friend at that moment, entirely engaged 
 by his youngest sister, who was ad- 
 dressing him with unusual earnestness. 
 Low as were her accents, his attentive 
 car caught some of her words, amongst 
 which he distinguished : " Can a mind 
 so enthusiastic, yet so reflecting, merit
 
 OF ISENBERS. 199 
 
 the epithets of light and volatile ? — No, 
 brother, 1 cannot discover his resem- 
 blance in your picture." 
 
 *'When I have five minutes leisure/* 
 replied Sigismond, laughing, " I will call 
 on you to design a better, we will then 
 submit both our sketches to his own 
 consideration ; and he shall honestly de- 
 clare, for an honest fellow he is, whicft 
 is his true likeness, your's, or mine.'^ 
 ih " Alas !" thought Villerose, ** whjr 
 has not Carenthea the gentleness — -the 
 indulgence — the charming candor of hcF 
 sister. — Yet is that sister less lovely 
 than herself ?•— Not to impartial eyes. 
 If the one seizes the admiration by sur- 
 prise, the other appears formed, imper- 
 ceptibly, to steal the affection.^' 
 
 The Marquis's reflections were here 
 broken in upon by the voice of the 
 Lady Marguerite, who in a tone consi- 
 derably above her usual key, and with 
 severity, was addressing Carenthea, 
 k4
 
 $00 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 The countenance of the hvely girl was 
 rendered truly comic by her vain en- 
 deavours at disciplining her muscles 
 into an expression of contrition; while 
 joguish triumph peeped from her half- 
 closed eye-lids, as she listened to the 
 following speech, 
 
 " Niece, I am absolutely siderated at 
 observing that a member of the house 
 of Isenberg, can so far forget what is 
 $eemly, as by an observation, more 
 argute than sage, to treat with caleosity, 
 those spontaneous effusions, arising from 
 the noble sentimentality of the cogita* 
 tor ! — More especially, in the presence 
 of a relative, whom you know partici- 
 pates in his admiration of the eximious 
 hero who elicited them. Pray, niece, 
 endeavour to free yourself from a cacoe- 
 thus, which I must ev^er oppugn. I 
 agree entirely with the Marquis, in the 
 idea, that the country of Sobieski, well 
 aware that the historic calamus, must
 
 OF ISENBERG. SOI 
 
 fmnsmit to future ages his valorous 
 deeds, and render his renown tergemi^ 
 Bous, disdained cal€0graph3^" 
 
 '' Pardon me, my dear madam," said 
 Carei>thea, with an air of well affected 
 humihfcy, — ^" I will henceforward study 
 to keep in mind your edifying precepts ; 
 and lest I should ever again by incogi^ 
 tancif be hurried into similar errors, I 
 shall in future, on occasions of senti" 
 mettialiiij^ make it a principle to remaia 
 
 While the Lady Marguerite was gra- 
 ciously extending -^ the ohv^e branch 
 towards her iuKigined penitent, the Ba- 
 yoMess endeavoured by a look of serious- 
 ness, to repress her further indulgence 
 of that vein of ridicule, to which she 
 knew her to be so prone.. 
 
 Meanwhile, Isidore, stealing round W 
 the Marquis, and climbing up his knee, 
 entreiited him .to. play a few turns of 
 battledore, as soon as the party should
 
 ^02 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 quit the table. On his consenting, all 
 the younger members immediately 
 arose, and accompanied them into the 
 saloon, the usual place of action. 
 
 But that remarkable dexterity, which 
 had formerly so greatly distinguished 
 Villerose at this game, appeared pro- 
 Vokingly to have deserted him ; and to 
 the infinite delight of Isidore, he played 
 so indifferently, as to give the boy 
 frequent opportunities of hitting him ; 
 which he had never before found pos- 
 sible. 
 
 " Oh» you are no match for me this 
 afternoon,*^ said the overjoyed Isidore. 
 
 *' You must therefore give me my 
 revenge to-morrow ?^^ replied Villerose ; 
 " in the mean time, I acknowledge 
 myself beaten, and offer to resign my 
 weapon to any one, who will have the 
 charity to take up my bad cause. De 
 Lerma; — Sigismond; — -^ill neither of 
 you ffelieve me ?'* -' "^^^^
 
 OF ISENBERG. 205 
 
 *' That will I do," said the latter, 
 good humouredly taking the place of 
 the Marquis ; who, after lingering a short 
 tinae in irresolution, approached the 
 place where Viola was engaged at her 
 embroidery frame. 
 
 For some time he silently stood 
 watching her fingers, as they were em- 
 ployed in shading a pomegranate blos- 
 som, with a wreath of which, she wagi 
 bordering a shawl for the Lady Mar- 
 guerite. 
 
 At length, seating himself beside 
 her, he said, ■*' I fear my friend has 
 flattered rne, in awakening the hope, 
 that you condescend to take an interest 
 in our unfortunate lovers." 
 
 It was with a look of surprise, that 
 Viola, lifting her eyes from her work to 
 fix them on Villerose, replied, " 1$ it 
 possible you can imagine any being ca- 
 pable of listening with indifference to 
 their affecting little history > It appears 
 k6
 
 fOi THE DAUGHTKRS 
 
 to me more natural, my lord, that the 
 active exertions your own heart has 
 prompted you to make in their service, 
 should have prepared you to expect, at 
 least, sympathij from those who are not 
 happy eiiough to possess, the power of 
 assisting you in restoring them to happi- 
 ness. But, in truth, I was just then ia- 
 dulging the pleasing idea, that if my 
 papa has the good fortune to succeed 
 equal to. his wishes, we shall all be 
 enabled to contribute towards the good 
 work you have begun. Did the account 
 you carried the poor girl of her hunter's 
 safety dispel the sorrow in wiiich you> 
 found her plunged }'' 
 
 " It greatly alleviated it^'^.^ replied the- 
 Marquis ; " and the hope with which I 
 afterwards inspired her, of effecting their 
 •union, brought back the smiles and roses 
 to her innocent face, which despair had 
 banished thence.'^ 
 
 ** And yet you left her in that frightful
 
 OF ISENBERG. 205 
 
 solrtude/* exclaimed Viola in a voice of 
 commiseration, "Oh why did you not 
 bring her hither/^ 
 
 " She told me," replied the Marquis, 
 
 ■" she dared not leave her father's flock ; 
 
 nor could I prevail on her, without his 
 
 permission, to quit the habitation to 
 
 which he has banished her.'* 
 
 ' " Good sjirl !" ejaculated Viola ; " but 
 
 we will obtain this permission. How 
 
 dehghtful to be the bearer ! She will 
 
 hail you, my Lord, as her better ai>gel,'^ 
 
 and as she spoke, her sweet features 
 
 were irradiated by thebenevolence which 
 
 -glowed in her soft bosom. 
 
 The Marqr is continual for some time 
 ■silently to note its expression, after (un- 
 conscious of his attention) she resumed 
 her occupation ; till noticing the wreath 
 which bound her hair, he felt the curi- 
 osity which had been engendered in the 
 temple, again roused, and he said, with 
 a view to gratify it, '' I conjecture, from
 
 506 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 the remarkable skill with which you 
 imitate flowers, that you must have 
 made them your particular study." 
 
 *' Your observation, my Lord/' re- 
 turned Viola smiling ; " rather proves that 
 you are prone to judge indulgently, than 
 that they have ever formed a part of 
 your's — indeed I am, as yet, a very no- 
 
 vice in the art." 
 
 ** Surely," replied Villerose, " on^ 
 cannot look at those wild roses, and be- 
 lieve otherwise than that they are just 
 plucked from the parent stem?" The 
 reply which Viola was about to make at 
 that moment, received a check by hear- 
 'ing the voice of Isidore eagerly calling 
 on them, to know if they w^ould join 
 the rest of the party, who were about to 
 enjoy the afternoon breezes on the canal 
 (which the Baron had extended to meet 
 the river Iber) whither the Baroness had 
 consented to accompany them. *' The 
 boat is getting ready ;^^ added he, '* and
 
 OF ISENBERG. 907 
 
 you have not a minute to lose. I hope 
 you will go, Monsieur le Marquis, or I 
 shall lose half my pleasure." - 
 
 Viola at the first mention of this plan, 
 had started up, and hastened to equip 
 herself for the occasion. In a few 
 minutes they overtook their friends, who 
 had not yet reached the side of the 
 water, and together arrived at the place 
 of embarkation. The afternoon was 
 delicious, and it was with light hearts 
 that the majority of the party seated 
 themselves in the boat; and felt it glide 
 down the smooth surface. 
 
 They had not proceeded far when Ca- 
 renthea exclaimed : " Oh ! my poor 
 Frolic, what could make me forget you ? 
 see, see, how disconsolately the dear 
 fellow stands on the lawn, waiting but 
 one word of encouragement from me to 
 brave every impediment which separates 
 him fromi his mistress ! shall I call 
 him :"
 
 208 TIfE DAUGHTERS 
 
 On the Baroness observing that they 
 should find hira an unpleasant guest, ia 
 the wet condition he would reach them^ 
 the gentlemen proposed returning to ad- 
 mit the tavorite. But to this Carenthea 
 whimsically objected — sayings he had 
 drawn on himself the deserved mor- 
 tification of being left behind^ by his 
 inattention to her movements. 
 
 " Poor Frolic I" exclaimed the Mar* 
 quis; who, without exactly knowing 
 \yhyy felt piqued at this speech.. " Yoi* 
 had no little friend to remind you of 
 your disloyalty." 
 
 '' Oh l" replied Isidore, looking drolly 
 at Villerose; " his little friend, you 
 know, was performing a good office else- 
 where." 
 
 As this conversation proceeded, Frolic 
 continued to run close to the edge of 
 the water, from time to time stopping i& 
 bark at his mistress;, at length the Bar- 
 roness recollected that they could take
 
 .^ OF ISENBERC;. 209 
 
 him in opposite the pagode des bains, 
 where the sides of the canal permitted a 
 boat to get close to the shore. 
 
 " Well thought of,'* observed Sigis- 
 mond ; " I have not visited that place 
 since my return : suppose we land there, 
 and take our afternoon's refreshment m 
 the temple. What says my mother?" 
 
 The Baroness consenting, he added;, 
 turning to his friends — " You must 
 know, Messieurs, that it is contrary to all 
 law, instituted in these domains, for any 
 one, save these young ladies, to be ad- 
 mitted into that sanctum sanctorum, 
 unaccompanied by this our lady pre- 
 sident." 
 
 His mother smiled as she replied, 
 *' and a very useful regulation it has 
 proved ; since, hitherto it has excluded 
 the entrance of idleness into a retreat, 
 dedicated to improvement and industry. 
 The healthiness and beauty of the spot,**" 
 a^iided she, " induced my lord the Bai'oii
 
 2lO THt DAUGHTEJIS 
 
 to fit up the saloon, of which TnysoB 
 speaks, expressly for the purpose of a 
 'school room for my daughters ; at which 
 period we thought it necessary to es* 
 -tablish certain strict rules, which would 
 guard against the liberty it offered them 
 from falling into abuse ; a circumstance 
 which must necessarily have happened, 
 had Sigismond and his young compa^ 
 nions been admitted there at pleasure. 
 Hence the regulation to which he al* 
 iudes, and which still continues in it^ 
 original force." 
 
 *' That hint I presume is intended to 
 enhance the obligation you are no\T 
 about to confer on us," remarked Sigis- 
 mond ; " since I am certain you can 
 entertain no apprehensions of the abuses 
 of which you speak being introduced 
 by your son, such as he now is, or these 
 his grave associates.** 
 
 This epithet was used sportively, but 
 it happened, at that moment, to be par-
 
 OP ISEIfBERG, 211 
 
 tieularly applicable to the Chevaliers, 
 \vho had listened in profound silence to 
 the conversation, without shewing anj 
 disposition to take a part in it; both 
 equally occupied in the recollection cf 
 their morning's intrusion there, 
 i Don Alphonso occasionally stole ^fc 
 look at Carenthea, who appeared €!> 
 tirely engrossed by watching Frolic^ 
 \vhile Isidore, creeping to the lap of 
 Viola, and encircling with his arms he^ 
 iieck, was very earnestly whispering 
 something in her ear, to which she listr 
 ened with pleased attention. 
 'At this moment the boat sweeping 
 round an elbow of the canal, they were 
 presented with a full view of the pa- 
 goda, and at the same moment they ob- 
 served several of the Baron's people, 
 who were hastening by a short cut across 
 the Park to reach the border of the 
 canal, before the barge should have passed 
 the place of landing.
 
 512 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 As the party approached within hear- 
 ing, they were respectfully informed that 
 the lady Marguerite, had sent to apprise 
 them, that lady Aberdale, accompanied 
 by her son Sir Launcelot, her niece 
 Miss Letitia Wanmore, and Doctor 
 Martimas, had arrived at the chateau a 
 few minutes after the family had quit- 
 ted it. 
 
 *' Ah! my old play fellow Aberdale," 
 exclaimed Sigismond ; " that is indeed 
 an unexpected pleasure : we had better 
 put about the boat immediately.'^ 
 
 The Baroness agreed ; and while the 
 bars^e was measurino- back its course, 
 Sigismond said, — 
 
 " I w^onder if Sir Launcelot has 
 brought back the valuable collection of 
 axioms, which with his hums, and his 
 hehs ! he used to regale us before he set 
 out on his travels.'* 
 
 *• I shall be in despair if he has not,'' 
 replied Carentliea, " he used to form
 
 OF ISENBERG. 2\3 
 
 the dciight of my life, during liis visits 
 to Isenberg." 
 
 " And I am sure/' returned Sigis- 
 mond " were we to bring him to con- 
 fession, . he would acknowledge, that 
 you were, at those periods, the torment 
 of J his. But who, Madam, is JVliss 
 Wanmare ? I do not remember to have 
 ever heard that her hidyship had a 
 niece?'* 
 
 '-'^ She is .the daughter of my friend's 
 only brother," rephed the Baroness 
 gravely. '' He formed early in life an 
 imprudent and very unequal marriage, 
 which was the ii cans of almost entirely 
 detaching him from his family for the 
 remainder of his life. This 3'oung lady 
 is the only child of that marriage, and 
 is recently become an orphan. Mr. 
 Wanmore, some years since, conscious 
 of his approaching end, found means to 
 engage the promise of his sister. Lady 
 Aberdaie, to take his daughter under
 
 S14 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 her guardianship should she survive her* 
 mother. That event has happened ; 
 and it was tofulfil her pmmise, that my 
 friend has lately taken a voyage to 
 England, from whence she is now re* 
 turned with her ward. 
 
 '** How long has Aberdale been re- 
 turned from Italy ?'* asked Sigismond. 
 ' ' " He arrived only a few days before 
 his mother learnt the event, by which 
 the sole charge of her niece devolves on 
 herself Sir Launcelot, accompanied 
 her ladyship to England, whither he had 
 before resolved on soon going, for the 
 purpose of expediting, if possible, that 
 tedious chancery suit, which stands be- 
 tween him and the enjoyment of the 
 large estates to which he believes himself 
 entitled. Till the final settlement of this 
 business, he has resolved on never be- 
 coming a resident of his native country. 
 Lady Aberdale's last letters informed me, 
 that at present no prospect offers of that*
 
 OF ISENBERG. filA 
 
 desirable circumstance taking place ; 
 and that they were about once more to 
 quit England in disgust, at the new dif- 
 ficulties which had sprung up to pro- 
 crastinate the termination of this vex- 
 atious affair. I sincerely pity my 
 amiable friend, who, after having beea 
 herself for so many years perplexed, 
 and involved in all the intricacies of 
 law, sees her only child likely to inherit 
 the same anxieties, which have embit- 
 tered so large a part of her life, instead 
 of the noble property, to which she be*- 
 lieves him justly entitled/' 
 
 " Pray, Pauline ?*' demanded Sigis- 
 mond, on whom his eyes had been for some 
 time fixed : " Pray Pauline, have you seeii 
 Aberdale since his return from Italy ?** 
 " No, brother ; why do you ask ?" 
 *' Because if you had, my girl, I should 
 inspect that your heart had not been in- 
 vulnerable to the travelled manners of my 
 nearly play-fellow?'*
 
 216 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 " Bless me, Sigismond,*^ intermpted 
 Carenthea tartly ; '* what an outree idea. 
 I know not whether his travelled man- 
 ners, as you call them, are less dawdling 
 and fatiguing than those he carried 
 abroad with him — but I am sure if they 
 are not reformed altogether, you offer a 
 strange affront to the taste of m^^ sister, 
 and one w^hich I should not easily for- 
 give, were 1 in her place." 
 
 " Pray allow Sigismond to jest a little 
 at my expence if he pleases," said 
 Pauline, endeavouringby a forced laugh 
 to hide the emotion which her brother 
 \vas not the only one present who had 
 remaiiced. " But he must at the same 
 time permit me to repeat, that I have 
 not seen lady Aberdale's son these three 
 years." 
 
 '^ Then I can only say, my dear," re- 
 marked her brother carelessl}^ '^ that 
 your countenance is not a true mirror 
 of your feelings ; for on first hearing of
 
 OF ISENBERG. 517 
 
 his arrival, itwassufFused with vermilion; 
 and ever since you have looked as 
 white as a snow drop, till my ques^ 
 tion just now brought back the roses to 
 your cheeks, which no one can deny 
 are at this nioment blooming there most 
 freshly." 
 
 " And who taught you, my son," said 
 the Baroness seriously; " that a lover 
 only has power to agitate the unhack* 
 neyed feelings of an amiable girl like 
 your sister ? She loves lady Aberdale as 
 her second mother. During the three 
 years of Sir Launcelot's absence, yield- 
 ing to her earnest intreaties, I have al- 
 lowed Pauline to pass half her time at 
 Rhonburg— the other half my friend has 
 Spent with us ; and till her late ex- 
 cursion to England, they have not been 
 separated since her son's departure. So 
 truly is my dear girl attached to lady 
 Aberdale, and so convinced of the plea- 
 sure her society is capable of conferring 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 218 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 on her, that fondly as she is attached to 
 her own famil}^ T have known her 
 warmly unite her gentle pleadings to 
 those of my friend, when she has seen 
 my lord or myself hesitate again to part 
 with her ! Have I said enough* Siais- 
 mond, to account salisfactoril}^ for your 
 sisters not hearing, unmoved, of her la- 
 dyship's return, after a comfortless, and 
 unsatisfactory absence of many months?'^ 
 
 " Ten times more than was necessary, 
 my dear Madam r^^ replied her son gaily/ 
 "But what sort of young lady is this Miss 
 Wan more ?" 
 
 " I know little of her,'' rephed the 
 Baroness, " except that in consequence 
 43f her father's property being entailed 
 on the male heirs, she is almost destitute 
 of fortune, She has hitherto lived prin- 
 cipally with her mother's family^ who I 
 fear were noi altogether the associates 
 l.ady Aberdaie would have chosen for 
 her. She is, however, youngy and by
 
 OP ISENBER6. 51$ 
 
 %eing removed entirely from them, *and 
 domesticated with her pohshed aunt, 
 will, I hope, become all that excellent 
 woman wishes to sec a descendant of a 
 brother, to whom early in life she was 
 greatly attached. But pray, Carenthea, 
 where have your thoughts been wander- 
 ing, for 1 perceive you have not been at- 
 tending to our late conversation." 
 
 " Pardon me, Madam," sh6 replied, 
 *' it was an observation which fell fi'om 
 you, that led me into the train of re- 
 flection in which I was just then en- 
 gaged. I was considering how singular 
 it is, that without an emotion as power- 
 ful as Pauline^s, I should have heard of 
 the arrival at Isenberg of the family to 
 which Doctor Grregory Marti mas forms 
 the most distinguished and captivating 
 ornament.^^ 
 
 De Lerma, who had been silently 
 holding in his arms the favorite Frolic, 
 tf4)m the time he was admitted into the 
 L 2
 
 2f0 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 boat opposite the pagoda, and whcse 
 eyes and thoughts had been engaged in 
 admiring the sportive graces which gave 
 such captivating brilhance to the play- 
 ful features of his mistress, now ad- 
 dressing Sigismond in a low but earnest 
 tone, said: " who, my fiiend is the very 
 amiable person of whom your lovely 
 sister is speaking ?^' 
 
 " Doctor Gregory Marti mas," re- 
 
 . plied Sigismond with a gravity, not less 
 
 impenetrable than his own. ^'Doyou 
 
 remember, Villerose the height of the 
 
 ^^pollo Pythius." 
 
 " I believe his statue measures seven 
 heads, three parts, six minutes," re- 
 plied the Marquis, who not having heard 
 Don Alphonso's question, knew not to 
 what this interrogatory tended. 
 
 " Pray oblige me, by enumerating the 
 prominent and distinguishing merits 
 which have rendered that statue so ce- 
 lebrated," resumed Sigismond.
 
 GF ISENBERG* 221 
 
 ** The spirit and elegance of the at- 
 titude, which represents him as. having 
 just discharged the arrow at the serpent 
 ^— the indignation so finely expressed bj 
 his raised chin, with the anger pour- 
 trayed in his bent brows, and the slight 
 distention of his nostrils — these together 
 form one of the most subhme and ani- 
 mated figures, marble can exhibit." 
 
 *' Admirable!" exclaimed Sigismond, 
 ** Is not the resemblance wonderful 
 Carenthea ? JMark you — the raised chin 
 of Martimas, exuberantly supported by a 
 triple row below. Distended nostrils— 
 not indeed indignantly breathing ire — 
 but copious volumes of pulverized to- 
 bacco ; the bent brow, scowling disdain 
 at his unclassical opponents. And if 
 in height, the Doctor falls a few heads 
 short of the Pythian God, what matters 
 it — when he so amply makes up the de- 
 ficiency in his vast circumference.'* 
 l3
 
 525 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 " Admirable indeed !" re-echoed Ca* 
 renthea, laughing heartily ; '' the next 
 time I happen to make him very angry 
 "With me, 1 will bring him into good hu- 
 mour again by telling hirn to what you 
 have compared him ; and my life for it 
 he takes it as a compliment. Well, I 
 never could imagine v/hat induces Lady 
 Aberdale to burthen herself with that 
 arrogant over bearing — yet to give him 
 his due — ^mirth-inspiring man/' 
 
 *' Have you so entirely forgotten, Ca- 
 renthea," asked the Baroness ; " how 
 greatly her ladyship thinks herself in- 
 debted to the Doctor for his long and 
 patient attendance on the late Sir Laun- 
 celot ; and that she belie^^es to his skill, 
 and unremitting cares, she owes the pre- 
 servation of her son ! Giddy as you are, 
 you must remember how assiduously he 
 has for nights successively watched over 
 liim, in those dangejous attacks to
 
 OP ISENBERG. 223 
 
 which, when a boy, he was subject. I 
 am very certain my friend would have 
 been miserable during the absence of 
 Sir Launcelot, had he not been accom- 
 panied by one, equally anxious for his 
 health, and qualified by his judgment to 
 preserve it." 
 
 " Perhaps then,*^ remarked Caren- 
 thea, with one other most roguish smiles, 
 " perhaps it is on principle that the w^ary 
 Doctor never allows his patient to con- 
 clude a sentence. I cry him mercy, 
 but I always attributed to an insatiabl* 
 love of listening to his own monotonous 
 voice, that invariable trick, of antici- 
 pating the conclusion of whatever Sir 
 Launcelot begins to say ; when had I 
 done justice to his true motive, I should 
 have been aware that he kindly meant to 
 spare the lungs and breath of his patient, 
 at the expense of his own." 
 
 ** Oh my child!" interrupted the Ba- 
 roness, *' how circumspect ought you to 
 l4 
 
 \
 
 9f'i THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 be in your own actions, v/ho view with 
 so microscopic an eye, the little foibles 
 and peculiarities of others." 
 
 *' Who would suspect," thought De 
 Lerma, " that so young, so sprightly a 
 creature, possesses that intuitive pene 
 tration which enables her immediately 
 to delect and seize on the eccentricities 
 of others. How delightfully does she 
 iaipart at pleasuFe to those who listen 
 to, and contemplate her, a portion of 
 her own charming gaiety. I am amazed 
 that I should so long have remained un- 
 conscious of that superiority of intellect, 
 which distinguishes her, and eclipses tha 
 milder graces of her sisters." 
 
 So reflected Don Alphonso, but it 
 occurred not to him, that the object^ on 
 whom till that day he had looked with 
 indifference, he now for the first time 
 contemplated through the medium of 
 self 'love I That first principle to which 
 some philosophers have traced every ex^
 
 OF ISEXBERG. . §25 
 
 ertion of which the mind of man has pro* 
 ved itself capable, and all that genius has 
 effected, or power performed ! That 
 principle deemed by them, the insti- 
 gator to every art, and every enjoyment, 
 the main-spring- which universally goides 
 the actions of mankind I 
 
 Little did D€ Lerma imagine how 
 very a slave he^ at4that moment was, to 
 its all potent sway ! when by exalting 
 the fancied perfections of Carenthea, he 
 swelled his own triumph over one so 
 fastidious. It was from her alone he 
 had erer experienced a decided prefer- 
 etice over his generally more admired 
 friend, Villerose. It was unsought, there- 
 fe>re treblj^ precious; and his knowledge 
 of that preference, had reached him in 
 a shape so unquestionable, as would 
 have disarmed scepticism itself. 
 
 The same omnipotent principle, self- 
 hve, governed not less absolutely, the- 
 mind of the Marquis. That niortitica- 
 l5
 
 226 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 tion and pique, which the severe ani 
 madversions of Carenthea had in the 
 morning engendered in his bosom, in a 
 great measure dissipated the mist of 
 partiahty which had before veiled from 
 him, her faults, and she now appeared 
 in his eyes very nearly such as she really 
 was, a beautiful, wild, trifling, amusing 
 coquette — whose wiv so greatly over- 
 balanced her sensibihty, that provided 
 ■she could enjoy her jest, she cared little 
 at whose expense it was purchased; 
 while her respect for the feelings of 
 others, but rarely offered them a suffi- 
 eient barrier against the shafts of h«r 
 lidicule. 
 
 The sweet Viola had, though uncon- 
 sciously, poured balm into the wound 
 which Carenthda so roughly, so unex- 
 pectedly, had inflicted on the Marquis. 
 His grateful eyes dwelt on this gentle 
 being, as on a beneficent angel, and his 
 ^eJf-love assisted him to discover that
 
 OF ISENBERG. !^27 
 
 with her very nature was interwoven 
 sensibility, candour, modest worth, and 
 discriminating good sense, which uncon- 
 scious as she was of his notice, her 
 every look, word, and action, expressed* 
 
 Once or twice, that she was drawn in 
 to mingle in the conversation, her beau- 
 tiful features were illumined by anima- 
 tion, and remarkable intelligence, yet 
 tempered by a diffidence truly fascina- 
 ting, while her voice, soft as the mellow 
 flute borne on the evening breeze of 
 summer to the attentive ear — found its 
 way through that of Villerose, to his 
 affection. 
 
 He several times felt vexed and impa- 
 tient when in the uncontrolled laugh of 
 Carenthea, her soothing accents, though 
 addressed to her little brother, escaped 
 him ; and on observing Isidore quit her 
 lap with the design of resuming the place 
 he had at fii^st occupied on the bench, 
 he eagerly offered him' one on his knee, 
 l6
 
 228 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 which the boy joyfully accepted. ViU 
 lerose pressed him in his arms with a 
 tenderness he had never before felt in so 
 great a degree, for this captivating and 
 universally beloved child. 
 
 Meanwhile Carenthea, who with ex- 
 travagant pleasure had remarked the un- 
 divided attention which De Lerma was 
 giving to ah she said and did, and read 
 with exultation in his express^ive face, 
 the admiration with whkh her comic 
 humour had inspired him — redoubled 
 her efforts to secure a conquest of which 
 she was most ambitious ; entirely for- 
 getting in this paramount desire, that 
 she by no means intended to rehnquish 
 the sway she had acquired over Yil- 
 lerose.
 
 OF ISENBERG» S29 
 
 CHAP. VIL 
 
 On reaching* the lawn, the party disem- 
 barked, and in a few minutes regaining 
 the chateau, entered the saloon in which 
 their newly arrived guests, with the lady 
 Marguerite, were sitting. 
 
 Pauline instantly rushed into lady 
 Aberdale*s arms, who with truly mater- 
 nal affection pressed her to her bosom. 
 The meeting between that lady, and the 
 whole Isenberg family, testified the 
 friendship which had long subsisted be- 
 tween them ; and after the first agitation 
 such a re-union was calculated to 
 awaken, had subsided, general intro- 
 ductions took place, amongst those who 
 were not previously acquainted. 
 
 Lady Aberdale, delicate and pleasing
 
 fSO THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 in her person, well bred and singularly 
 graceful in her manners, could not be 
 seen without claiming respect and ap- 
 probation ; nor was it possible to avoid 
 being struck with the remarkable con- 
 trast her niece formed to her, as she led 
 that young lady forwards, and presented 
 her to the three sisters, saying she hoped 
 Iheir intimacy would be productive of 
 mutual pleasure. 
 
 Miss Wanmore had long piqued her- 
 self on uniting in her person many of 
 those exquisite point* which have ren- 
 dered the finest Grecian statues so justly 
 celebrated. 
 
 In tenaciously cherishing this very 
 erroneous idea, she had not only lost 
 sight of the glaring imperfections con- 
 spicuous in her figure, but had per- 
 suaded herself that her very blemishes 
 were striking beauties. 
 
 A celebrated painter had once said, 
 in her hearing, that the contour of a
 
 OF ISENBERG. S3l 
 
 face to be perfectly correct, ought to be 
 so delicately formed as not to exceed in 
 breadth the pillar of the well-moulded 
 neck which supported it. The first mo- 
 ment Miss Wanmore could escape from 
 the company, she flew to consult her 
 glass ; which discovered to her, that the 
 ample size of her own throat, was 
 scarcely exceeded in dimensions, by her 
 expansive visage. 
 
 Vanity instantly whispered her that, 
 by the painter^s criterion, they were 
 formed with the justest proportions ; and 
 she from that period imagined -them fit 
 subjects for the sculptor's study, entire- 
 ly overlooking, in her self-approbation, 
 the strong resemblance, her physiogno- 
 my bore in shape, features, and expres^- 
 sion, to the grimalkin race. Her eyes 
 were of their greenislv hue, while the 
 quick dilation and aontraction of her 
 pupils, with tlie remarkable space which 
 separated the orbs, still more character- 
 istically marked the Jctmil^ hkeness»
 
 239 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 But the point which Miss Wanmore 
 contemplated in herself with never sa-* 
 tiated admiration, was the length of 
 sweeo which marked the intervening: 
 space between her ear and shoulder ; on 
 this graceful line she had formerly been 
 accustomed, for hours, to descant to 
 those who were, unhappily, under the 
 necessity of listening to her volubility ; 
 from time to time, stopping to enquire' 
 if they did not envy her this singular 
 perfection, or those of her little hands> 
 her little feet, and her little waist. One 
 day a liidy, whose patience she had so 
 far tried beyond forbearance, as to 
 banish w^ith it her good breeding, re- 
 plied to these absurd questions : " By 
 no means, for I am far from esteeming 
 dwarfish extremities to shapeless and 
 clumsv limbs as advantaa^es, or so re- 
 markable a length of urck, where the 
 legs are disproportionately short, as fit 
 subjects for admiration; let me advise
 
 or ISENBERG. 235 
 
 vou, therefore, as a well wisher, to avoid 
 forcing your person into notice, if you 
 cannot bear with more philosophy, than 
 I perceive you are able to do at present, 
 to hear the wholesome truths I hav« 
 just told you/' 
 
 Miss Wanmore had instantly quitted 
 the room in tears of rage and indigna- 
 tion ; but the advice, unpalatable as it 
 was, produced some beneficial effects 
 on the young lady, who from that 
 period avoided indiscriminatelij annoying 
 others by talking of herself. It besides 
 set her upon concealing, as far as dress 
 was able so to do, the defects which her 
 censure had so justly pointed out ; while 
 she cherished with yet greater tenderness, 
 what she still deemed her perfec- 
 tions. 
 
 So much conceit and affectation still 
 remained, at the time of her introduc- 
 tion at Isenberg, as to render her a very 
 conspicuously absurd young worn an
 
 t34 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 and her attempt at exhibiting refinement 
 and elegance, (while it made more ob- 
 vious her want of education) appeared 
 so ill to assort with the coarseness of 
 her features and ungraceful manners, as 
 to mark her out a fit object for ridicule. 
 Such was the impression Sigismond and 
 Carenthea receiv^ed at the first glance. 
 
 During the three years of Sir Launce- 
 lot Aberdaie^s absence, a very consider- 
 able alteration had taken place in hi^i 
 appearance, which from an ungainly, 
 awkwardly, tall boy, had formed into a 
 slight fashionable looking young man. 
 The same s^^mptoms of delicate health 
 which he carried abroad with him, were 
 «till visible, and gave an air of languor to 
 his deportment, which to the lively 
 Carenthea still appeared v/oe-begonc 
 and lacky-daisycal ; yet to those, whose 
 greater sobriety of mind taught them to 
 admire gentleness of manners, Sir Laun- 
 celot's had acquired in interest, what 
 they wanted in animatiou.
 
 OF ISEN^ERG. ^33 
 
 Iftlie dissimilarity was great betweea 
 the person and manners of X-ady Abei- 
 dale and her niece, not less striking was 
 that of Sir Launcelot, gnd his ramily 
 ph3^si9an, Doctor Gregory Martitiias. 
 
 That very important persr.nage was 
 the third son of a villaoe school-oiaScer 
 in the west of England, of which hsmlel 
 the grand-father of the present Baronet . 
 had been the patron. 
 
 The late Sir Launcelot, was an only 
 child, and consequently experienced 
 during his early years much of that weak 
 indulgence, which has proved ruinous 
 to the health and happiness of many an 
 hopeful heir. 
 
 Happily, Sir Marmaduke Aberdal^, 
 before it was too late, perceived the ne- 
 cessity of sending his son from the pa- 
 ternal roof, in order to have him initiated 
 into those habits of application which he 
 liad reason to fear, he wanted himself 
 resolution to enforce.
 
 '1^36 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 After much consideration, he deemed 
 it expedient, before launching the boy 
 into a large public school, to place him 
 for a couple of years, under the care of 
 Mr. Martimas, as a kind of a preparatory 
 breaking in. 
 
 The father of young Gregory, on 
 learning this resolution of the Baronet, 
 strictly charged his son to seek every 
 possible means of amusing the young 
 squire, and reconcihng him to his new 
 abode; in which the lad so well suc- 
 ceeded, that in a short time master 
 Launcelot could not be happy to go, even 
 home, without his favourite play-fellow. 
 
 This partiality encreased to such a 
 height, that when the period arrived for 
 removing Iwm to Eton, he without 
 much difficulty prevailed upon his fond 
 parents to send his friend there with 
 him. 
 
 Gregory, was a boy of much appli- 
 cation, and not only made an excellent
 
 OF ISENBERG. 237 
 
 use himself of the time he had the good 
 fortune to pass there, but possessed the 
 art of stimulating young Aberdale, to 
 retrieve lost time. 
 
 So sensible was Sir Marmaduke of 
 the advantages his son had derived from 
 his intimacy v^^ith Martimas, that on 
 leaving school he took on himself to 
 provide for the future fortune of the 
 youth. 
 
 Ilis inclinations directed him to the 
 study of medicine ; and the Baronet 
 placed hirri, at his ovi^n expense, with a 
 gentleman eminent in that profession 
 in the metropolis ; with whom he resided 
 till Mr. Aberdale quitted the university. 
 Soon after that event, by the death of 
 Sir Marmaduke, his son succeeded to 
 ])\s title and estates ; but some dissipa- 
 tion, intowhich the young man had fallea 
 during his stay at Oxford, having shaken 
 his before w^eakly constitution, a milder 
 climate was recommended, as his best
 
 238 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 restorative to health ; and Martimas who 
 had by that time fully qualified himself 
 for the office, cheerfully consented to 
 accompany his patron to Italy, iti the 
 double capacity of companion and tra- 
 velling physician. 
 
 For the purpose of supporting this 
 character with the greater propriety, the 
 young man furnished himself tvith a 
 scotch diploma, and assumed all the con- 
 sequence he thought his new dignity 
 conferred; which Sir Launcelot enabled 
 him more effectually to support by set- 
 tling on him, previous to his departure 
 from England, a small independence. 
 
 The subsequent marriage of his patron, 
 had not interrapted the friendship which 
 had begun at school, for Lady Aberdale 
 was mild, amiable, and too sincerely 
 attached to her husband, not to estimate 
 very highly, the advantage of having 
 always near him, in the sudden and dan- 
 gerous illnesses to which he was ever
 
 OF ISENBEF.G. 239 
 
 after subject, one who was equaily qua- 
 lified by skill and affection, to watch 
 Over and advise him. 
 
 She bore therefore with the utmost 
 patience his little characteristic peculi- 
 arities, of which he had manj^ ; and he 
 ever after continued to be their inmate. 
 
 The birth of their son seemed to give^ 
 the doctor a new claim to the regard of 
 Sir Launcelot and Lady Aberdaie; for 
 they attributed to his unremitting care 
 the saving the infantas life, who was re- 
 markably sickly in his early years. His 
 father lived only to see him attain the 
 age of ten, from which period Doctor 
 Marti mas appeared to transfer to his 
 ' young representative, the friendship and 
 affection he before felt for the parent. 
 He entirely devoted himself to this child, 
 who now benefitted by those literary 
 advantai^es, which he had himself owed 
 to the Aberdaie family. 
 
 The conscious mother, delighted to
 
 40 fHE DAUGHTERS 
 
 see her son acquire under the maternal 
 roof, those elements of education, for 
 the just attainment of which schools are 
 generally so necessary, thought she 
 could never sufficiently requite him, to 
 whom she owed the happiness of not 
 being obliged to send her child from her; 
 and the boy was brought up, rather 
 more under his guidance, than that of 
 Lady Aberdale. 
 
 Doctor Martimas now felt completely 
 in his element, for he loved consequence 
 and authority, and he fully enjoyed both. 
 He loved too, good eating and drinking, 
 and he copiously indulged these incli«» 
 nations, while he descanted on the vir- 
 tues of temperance and sobriety — for 
 the doctor loved to harangue. 
 
 More a man of information, than one 
 of deep reflection, or any extraordinary 
 powers of mind, he often sported in the 
 flow of his eloquence ideas and opinions 
 borrowed from wiser heads than that he
 
 daimed ; yet ever giving to them such 
 an air of originality, as to deceive his less 
 Tvell read auditors, into a belief that they 
 were wholly the suggestions of his own ; 
 while in proportion to the intense labor, 
 by which in his youth he had acquired 
 his stock of erudition, now that he was 
 arrived at that period, when easebecomes 
 preferable to exertion, he plumed him- 
 self on the possession of those treasures, 
 in proportion to the toil by which he had 
 amassed them. 
 
 But although Doctor Marti mas prized, 
 or professed to prize, knowledge beyond 
 all worldly acquisition in his oicn sex, 
 he entertained a feeling little short oi 
 antipathy, to those termed learned of 
 the other: a prejudice which gave much 
 vexation to the amiable Lady Aberdale, 
 during their visits at Isenberg, since it 
 led him into eternal disputes with the 
 Lady Marguerite. 
 
 If she cited an ancient authority in 
 
 VOL. I. M.
 
 24S THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 support of her own argument, the Doctor 
 ever took a malicious pleasure in doubt- 
 ing the accuracy of his venerable oppo- 
 nent ; or in detecting some error in 
 her quotation, which not unfrequently 
 produced discord between ' them, and 
 disturbed the pleasure of the part}V^-. -i 
 
 Thus while the amiable and? not less ■ 
 learned , Delmond; with benevolent in- 
 dulgence, allowed the sister of his patron 
 to ride her innocent hobby-horse unmo- 
 lested, Doctor Martimas, with a mind 
 less enlarged and liberal; though with a 
 heart as upri*ght and honorable, conde- 
 scended to use even unfair means to dis- 
 mount her. 
 
 Such was the personage who, with a 
 very profound bow, saluted the Isenberg 
 party on their entrance ; and his person 
 was such as to excite immediate remark. 
 
 Doctor Marti mas was about ^ve feet 
 four in height, by four feet five in circum- 
 ference ; his ampleiiead was sufficiently
 
 OF ISENBERG. 2A:5 
 
 capacious to contain the vast store of 
 erudition on whidi he piqued himself; 
 and while his small eyes, had merely so 
 slight a dash of blue in their mixture, 
 as just to give them a faint greyish tint, 
 his hair, brows, and lashes, were perfectly 
 white ; from his cheeks (which rivalled 
 '•1 their swelling roundness those of Bo- 
 reas, when he deigns to bless the sailor 
 with a brisk gale) descended in triple 
 tiers, a chin, which disdained to be out- 
 bloomed by the rosy- hue of his cheeks, 
 forehead, or nose ; the skin of the Doc- 
 tor, which had been in extreme youth 
 exquisitely fair, still preserved its 
 polished smoothness, and gave to his 
 ruddy face, the appearance of healthy- 
 uess, not often the companion of lux- 
 urious induio-ence. 
 
 o 
 
 If the comely magnitude of his wAist- 
 
 coat bore testimony to the full and solid 
 
 mass it clothed, this mighty protuberance 
 
 had no cause to complain of its support- 
 
 m2
 
 544 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 ers ; for weighty, fleshy, and of equal 
 bulk, his short thick legs, firmly bore 
 their ponderous burthen, through all the 
 many grotesque attitudes his self suffici- 
 ency dictated, as suitably expressive of 
 his various powers of pleasing, imposing, 
 censuring, and instructing. 
 
 In a word, (according to the general 
 acceptation of the expression) Doctor 
 Martimas was a complete character; 
 whose pretensions, oddities, and fre- 
 quently overhearing manners, offended 
 some, diverted others, but where tole- 
 rated by all who loved Lady Aberdale, 
 and knew how greatly she esteemed 
 him. 
 
 Sigismond and Carenthea, quickly ex- 
 changed glances of mutual congratula- 
 tion, on the amusement two, at least, of 
 their newly arrived guests, promised to 
 afford them — while Sir Lauhcelot, after 
 the party had been some time seated* 
 asked if Frolic, on whom his mistress
 
 OF ISENBERG. i545 
 
 was lavishing her caresses, was not aw 
 old acquaintance of his ? 
 
 During the time Lady Aberdale vva» 
 informing him, he was a descendant 
 of his favourite Dido, the Doctor took 
 an opportunity to declaim eloquently, 
 on the many obvious objections to do- 
 mesticating as pets^ animals which nature 
 never designed for such purposesv " In 
 my opinion,'^ added he, '' though they 
 are very well in their proper place, they 
 are noisome and abominable in houses. 
 Yet, there are those who think the dog 
 a pleasant creature, and near ta man in 
 thought, and love ; but I profess I could ^ 
 never be of that opinion. On the con- 
 trary, I have remarked that th^ey occa- 
 sion care, make havoc, often causing 
 anger in mansions, and therefore ought 
 to be banished thence/' 
 
 While the Doctor spoke, the young 
 lady at whom this speech was particu- 
 larly levelled, gave not any intunation 
 M 3
 
 S46 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 by her manners, that she was attending 
 to one word he utteretl ; on the contrary 
 she appeared entirely absorbed, in ob- 
 serving the mischievous eagerness with 
 which Frohc was nibbling the embroi- 
 dered ends of the ribbon that encircled 
 her waist. But when he paused, look- 
 ing up at him wdth an air of roguish 
 simphcity, she said, " I will tell you, 
 Doctor^ whence originates the erro- 
 neous opinion, you have formed of these 
 very faithful friends of our species ; you 
 have never deigned to win, by your 
 graciousness towards one, his valuable 
 affection ; had you, depend on ' it he 
 would have taught you, without the aid 
 of erudition, better to appreciate his in- 
 estimable race, and also to allow that 
 nature did design dogs, not only to watch 
 over our safety by night, but to be our 
 companions and followers by day." 
 
 " Undoubtedly,'' observed Don Al- 
 phonso, who had been startled and great-
 
 OF ISENBERG. 247 
 
 ly moved by the Doctor's rough attack 
 on Carenthea, " undoubtedly, you are 
 perfectly right, experience of its fallacy 
 is perhaps the most effectual method of 
 eradicating prejudice. Yet who could 
 read the record of the faithful dog, which 
 so gi'eatiy distinguished himself in the 
 reign of Charles the Fifth of France, 
 without subscribing to the justice of 
 your remarks, on the inestimable fidelity 
 of his species. 
 
 "I do not remember ever to have 
 hoard the anecdote to which you allude,'* 
 said Carenthea eagerly, " pray strengthen 
 the cause of my poor Frolic, by favoring 
 me with it?'* 
 
 " It is related by Jules Scaliger," re- 
 plied De Lerma, remarking with secret 
 pleasure, the deep attention with which 
 Carenthea listened to him. " He states 
 that a gentleman named Macaire, w^ho 
 was an archer in the guards of Charles 
 the Fifth, bore a rooted enmity against 
 
 M 4f
 
 ^i8 THE DAl/GilTtrtS 
 
 hisconifade, Aubry de Montdidier ; and 
 meeting him accidentally in the forest 
 de Bondis, near Paris, accompanied only 
 by his dog, which was a sporting one, 
 he traitorously murdered, and afterwards 
 interred him. As the historian does 
 not mention what the dog did, at the 
 time this atrocious act was committing, 
 we may presume by the sequel of the 
 story, that he must have been at too 
 great a distance from his master, to sig** 
 nahze his zeal either in defending or im- 
 mediately revenging him; but on his 
 return to the spot, the animal stationed 
 himself near the grave of his master, 
 where he remained till extreme hunger 
 obliged him to return to Paris. He was 
 there received courteously in the kitchen 
 of the best friend of Montdidier; yet 
 as soon as he had refreshed himself, he 
 again resorted to the tomb of his master. 
 The circumstance of the dog's conti- 
 nuing to go to the same kitchenir and
 
 OF JSENBERG. 249 
 
 from thence hastening back to the grave, 
 at length excited so much curiosity, 
 that he was followed thither, and it was 
 observed that he always stopped on a 
 spot where the earth had been recently 
 thrown tip. Mere he ho\v led as if de- 
 sirous of attracting attention and com- 
 passion y by thus^ expressing his grief. 
 Scaliger remarks, that these howhngs 
 were not terrific, but that they were 
 uttered in^ tender and touching tones.. 
 The grave was opened, and the body of 
 D'aubry found. It was taken up and 
 buried in a cemetery,, from w hich period 
 the dog attached himself to those who\ 
 had performed this charitable office.. 
 
 *• Who can resist loving such an 
 animal," asked the exulting Carenthea, 
 as she cast a triumphant glance at the 
 Doctor; ^'^but pray proceed, Don At- 
 phonso." 
 
 " Every time Macaire w as met by 
 the dog,*' pursued De Lerma, " he lept 
 M 6
 
 250 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 at his neck, and would hiive strangled 
 him, had not the murderer been rescued 
 from his violence. This persevering 
 and inveterate hatred, first gave birth to 
 the suspicion that Macaire had assassi- 
 nated Montdidier. The affair became 
 public, and in time reached the ears of 
 Charles the Fifth, surnamed the just ; 
 who anxious to clear up the matter? 
 caused Macaire and the dog to be 
 brought into his presence, on which oc- 
 casion the animal with his accustomed 
 fury, sprang on the murderer. It 
 was in vain the king questioned Ma- 
 caire, and pressed him to reveal the 
 truth. At length he ordained that at 
 Uisle Notre Dame at Paris, in his pre- 
 sence, and that of the whole court» 
 there should take place a single combat 
 between Macaire and the dog : in those 
 days, the means often adopted to decide 
 causes, whose object was that of ac- 
 cusing any one of capital crimes, when
 
 OP ISENBERG. S51 
 
 there was a deficiency of evidence, was 
 to oppose the accuser to the accused 
 The dog w^as in this instance regarded 
 as the accuse*", Macaire as the accused. 
 His majesty had commanded that the 
 murderer should be furnished with a 
 stout stick ; and that the dog should 
 have for his retreat, in case he was very 
 hardly pressed, a large open barrel. 
 When the combat was carried into ex- 
 ecution, the dog after having made a 
 circuit round his enemy, and wath con- 
 summate address avoided a tremendous 
 blow aimed at him, sprang at the neck 
 of Macaire, and seized him so forcibly 
 by the throat, that he found it impossi- 
 ble to extricate himself. On this, the 
 villain desperately avowed his crime, 
 and cried out for mercy ; but he was 
 rescued from the fury of the animal only 
 to be dehvered into the hands of justice. 
 What a lesson of fidelity is here given 
 by a dog P^ pursued Don Alphonso, 
 M 6
 
 -with increased animation. •* Hotv 
 touching the affection he evinced for his 
 master, for his corpse, for his memory I 
 How invincible his hatred towards his 
 murderer ! — How striking his perse- 
 vering in that hatred ! — How wonderful 
 • his address in the combat ! — How 
 glorious his victory, which brought 
 truth to light ! Can any one dispute 
 such an animal being worthy the tender- 
 ness of his master }" 
 
 "Oh no!*^ replied the Marquis, 
 warmly; " such instances of sense, sen* 
 sibility, and fidelity, would compel even 
 Descartes himself, to grant him a soul 
 illumined by reason, and a heart render*, 
 ing him by its sentiments worthy to be 
 esteemed the friend of man I'* 
 
 "Nov/ Frolic,'^ said the delighted 
 Carenth^a, " pray go and return your 
 priettiest compliments to these cheva- 
 liers, who have so ably supported youi 
 cause, and that of yoiir mistress, against 
 ^he learned Doctor/^
 
 OF ISENBERG. 555 
 
 Tlie Marquis, however, did not wait 
 to receive them, for at that moment the 
 Baron requested the favor of his com- 
 pany in his study, for the purpose c^ 
 consulting him respecting the first step* 
 to be taken for the emancipation of Jo- 
 «cphine. 
 
 To obviate any delay of an object, the 
 accomplishment of which Villerose had 
 much at heart, he begged permission to 
 accompany the Baron in the place of 
 Sigismond ; as he could not now with 
 propriety leave Isenberg, during the 
 short time Sir Launcelot was to pa?» 
 there. 
 
 This proposal being with pleasure ac- 
 (j^epted, it was settled that they should 
 get off early next morning on their jour- 
 ney to Goltz's Castle, the residence of 
 the Count de Schonbrun ; leaving Don 
 Alphonso and his young host at the 
 chateau.
 
 ^6^ THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 CHAP. VIIL 
 
 ViLLEROSE was ready before the hour 
 appointed; and while waiting for the 
 Baron, paced the saloon with the rest- 
 less impatience of one, who hopes to 
 enjoy some pleasure of which he fears 
 he may be deprived. 
 
 In reality, he had almost uncon- 
 sciously flattered himself, that he should 
 have an opportunity of hearing from the 
 lips of Viola, before his departure, her 
 good wishes for the result of their ex- 
 pedition. 
 
 He had dwelt on this idea till he half 
 persuaded htmself that their ultimate 
 success depended upon this circum- 
 stance ; and during the preceding after- 
 noon, he had in vain sought a favorable
 
 OP ISENBERG. 256 
 
 moment to acquaint her with the Baron'fe 
 intentions ; for she was not present when 
 it was communicated to Madame Isen- 
 berg and Sigismond ; nor was it after- 
 wards mentioned during the rest of the 
 evening, so that he beheved her wholly 
 ignorant of the plan proposed. 
 
 At length he heard a footstep ; the 
 colour instantly mounted to his cheek— 
 the door opened — and he beheld — the 
 Baron ! Nothing now offering a further 
 excuse for delay, they mounted their 
 horses and departed, a travelling car- 
 riage following them. 
 
 Villerose cast an anxious glance up 
 at the windows of the chateau, still 
 hoping an encouraging smile from her, 
 who took an interest scarcely less lively 
 than himself, in the fate of the unhappy 
 lovers — ^but no sympathizing counte-v^ 
 nance met his eager eye^ and he pro- 
 ceeded with a foreboding of multiphed,. 
 and perhaps insurmountable difficulties..
 
 1^66 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 Nothing worthy of remark happeneeJ 
 previous to their arrival at Goltz ; where 
 they were received by the Count with a 
 stately coldness, but ill according with 
 the obligations he had formerly owed the 
 Baron, and still less with the expectations 
 with which that nobleman had visited. 
 him. 
 
 Hawghtmess and- unbending pride sat 
 on his strongly marked brow, as he list- 
 ened to the object of the Baron's re- 
 quest ; nor did he once offer to break 
 his sullen silence, till he had heard all 
 his guest had to urge, in behalf of the 
 suffering Josephine. At length, finding 
 he was expected to answer, in a voice of 
 «tifled rage, he said, *' I am surprised^, 
 my lord, at your interfering between me 
 and my vassals, arrogating to yourself 
 the right of adjudging their grievances,, 
 and sitting in judgment on- my govern- 
 ment of them. Indeed,, Baron Isenberg,** 
 continued the Count, with increasing^
 
 OF ISENBtRG. 2^7 
 
 haughtiness ; " it excites my surprise 
 that you have suffered yourself to be led 
 into taking the liberty of arraigning my 
 conduct, on the report of three hot- 
 headed young men, whose society is far 
 more likely to ruin the peace of the ob- 
 ject of their ill-judged interference, than 
 the solitude, to which, as a wholesome 
 correction of her offence, I have thought 
 proper to condemn her ; a punishment 
 which would but for this officiousness, 
 ^nd her daring complaints, have ended 
 with the summer; but now she shalf 
 taste the inclemency of winter, on those 
 bleak mountains, and when her stiffened 
 limbs ache with cold, and her hut rocks 
 with the fearful blast, she will know how 
 to value the tender and active sympathy 
 of her three kwights errant.*^ 
 
 The astonished, and greatly offended 
 Baron, finding the Count deaf to tha 
 voice of pity, justice, and human ity» 
 took an abrupt leave, suddenly struck
 
 2^8 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 with the idea of repairing to Saltzburg, 
 for the purpose of soliciting the arch- 
 bishop, to exert his power in rescuing 
 Josephine from the threatened ven- 
 geance of her lord. 
 
 The amiable prelate who Q;cvcrned 
 that principality, was moved by the 
 simple tale of the lovers ; and inspired 
 by the Baron, whom he greatly esteemed, 
 with so warm an interest in their fate, 
 that he charged him with a mandate to 
 the tyrannical Schonbrun, not oniv to 
 cease his persecutions, but to use his 
 power and authority over his two vassals 
 (fathers of the unfortunate couple) for 
 the promotion of their union, on pain of 
 making his Prince his enemy. 
 
 Charmed with the affability and hu- 
 manity of the archbishop, the Baron and 
 his young companion made their grateful 
 adieus, and on the following morning 
 retraced their steps towards Goltz castle, 
 with that light-heartedness which the
 
 OP ISENBERG. 2^9 
 
 ♦ man of feeling must ever experience, 
 when the bearer of happy tidings to the 
 sick heart of the oppressed. 
 
 On dehvering to Count Schonbrun, 
 the reprimand and mandate of the arch- 
 bishop, to his infinite surprise, that no- 
 bleman professed perfect readiness to 
 submit to the commands of his prince ; 
 and cheerfully promised to accompany 
 the Baron next day to the mountain, not 
 only to conduct the shepherdess from 
 exile, but to restore her himself to the 
 situation she had formerly held in his 
 chateau. 
 
 As the afternoon was heavy, and por- 
 tended a storm, the Baron, now softened 
 by what he conceived the contrition of 
 his host, acquiesced in an arrangement, 
 which allowed him a little rest from the 
 fatigue of so hasty a journey, and was 
 not likely to add much to the sufferings 
 of Josephine. 
 
 Not so Villcrose ; he had seen the
 
 S60 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 object of their commiseration; had ad- 
 mired the purity of virtue which dwelt 
 in her sweet face — the artlessness of her 
 manners — ^the mildness with which she 
 spoke of her merciless treatment — and 
 the simplicity with which she had re- 
 lated the progress of love and grief in 
 her unadulterated heart. 
 
 All these circumstances, in a youngr 
 romantic bosom, roused an enthusiasm 
 in her cause, which though the Baron, 
 who knew her only by report, could not 
 be supposed to feel at his age, so ani- 
 mated his youthful companion, that no 
 rest would have visited his pillow, under 
 the consciousness of voluntarily pro- 
 longing, for one instant, the suspense of 
 so interestinga human being, suffering 
 undeserved misery. He therefore, with- 
 out risking objections to his plan by 
 communicating it, quitted the chateau^ 
 and soon began his escalade of the 
 mountain •
 
 OF ISENBERG, 96\ 
 
 As he proceeded, - the heavens grew 
 more lowering, and the rent cloudy 
 poured torrents on his defenceless head 
 while the growl of distant thundCf 
 warned him of the coming danger — a 
 warning of which his generous soul dis- 
 dained to avail himself. 
 
 Regardless of his own safety, that ot 
 tlie poor shepherdess because terrible to 
 his imagination, and doubled his impa- 
 tience to carry comfort to the helpless 
 innocent, who was so cruelly left to 
 brave its dangers on those barbarous 
 heights. 
 
 At every step the fury of the storm 
 increased- — the rough winds now howled 
 with unchecked fury — the hghtning's 
 forked gleams became more horribly 
 vivid — and as- the terrific rumbling of 
 the advancing thunder, reverberated from 
 mountain to mountain, and through the 
 whole range of towering rocks which 
 backed them, they appeared to bend
 
 262 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 their proud heads in dread of its tre- 
 mendous power. 
 
 " Sv/eet girM^^ ejaculated Villerose in 
 a voice of heart-felt pity, bounding at 
 the same time forward with redoubled 
 speed, and calling loudly and anxiously 
 on the forlorn one's name. 
 
 No ansvv^er greeted his greedy ear — he 
 reached the hovel — it was shut. He 
 knocked fearfulij^ — no one obeyed the 
 summons : again he called — again he 
 listened, all was still — " Oh ! God," he 
 exclaimed, " she has fallen a victim to 
 the contending elements, or is dying 
 with terror at a distance from this only 
 shelter. 
 
 The Marquis now forced his way 
 through the frail door ; at the first glance 
 his heart died within him ! what a scene 
 did it present ! what dreadful conjectures 
 crowded on his mind at the appalling 
 sight ! Melak—the faithful Melak, lay 
 lifeless on the ground, evidently stretch-
 
 OF ISENBERG. 253 
 
 ed there by human hands. Goiy markg 
 of brutal violence stained the floor in 
 various places. The crook of the shep- 
 herdess, on which she had leant her 
 sweet face, at the moment he first saw 
 hC'r, was shivered to pieces, as if it had 
 been used as a weapon of defence. A 
 handkerchief also, which Villerose recol- 
 lected to have seen decorating the poor 
 girl's head, appeared to have been torn 
 ferociously from it, for with it were some 
 of th(3 fair curling locks it had confined. 
 A hunter's cap, and broken belt, like- 
 wise, bore strong testimony to some 
 bloody deed recently committed ! 
 
 Stiffened with horror, scarcely had 
 Villerose resolution to approach the 
 humble pallet, where he dreaded to see 
 the lovely victim, already in the cold 
 arms of death, or suffering her last 
 agonies. His soul recoiled from ascer- 
 taining her fate, and it was long before 
 he conquered his foreboding reluctance.
 
 fdi tHE DAUGHTERS 
 
 At length, with a palpitating heart, he 
 drew near the pallet : it was empty. He 
 felt relieved— ra gleam of hope animated 
 him to think the recesses of the rocks 
 might have afforded her an asylum 
 against the ruffians, who in contending 
 with her defender, (for a defender she 
 evidently had had,) might have lost sight 
 of their prey: He now quitted the 
 polluted dwelling, and traversing the 
 mountains, made them, between the 
 rolling peals of thunder, echo with the 
 name of Josephine. In vain! — the blea- 
 ting of the deserted flock, alone broke 
 the silence of those awful pauses, which 
 preceded the renewal of its fury. 
 
 All hope of finding her lost, the 
 Marquis with impatient steps, his bosom 
 now glowing with rage, now melting 
 with pity, returned to Goltz castle ; and 
 rushing at once into the presence of the 
 Count and Baron, related with all the 
 energy of harrowed feelings, that som©
 
 •F I9ENI3ERG. 2^ 
 
 ruthless villains had invaded the unpro- 
 tected hovel of the persecuted Josephine, 
 and had carried her off. 
 
 "An idle tale/^ said the Count con- 
 temptuously; " no 6ne dares commit 
 such an outrage against my authority, 
 as to rescue one, suffering under m}^ 
 displeasure, from the punishment I had 
 awarded.'* 
 
 " Rescued!'^ said the much affected 
 Villerose ; " No, the poor victim has not 
 been resfued', you shall judge, my lord," 
 turning, to the Baron. He then de- 
 scribed, in an agitated voice, the vestiges 
 of savage cruelty exhibited in many 
 parts of the wretched hovel ; the dead 
 body of Josephine's dumb but faithful 
 protector, who to all appearance had been 
 killed in her defence — the broken belt 
 — the shivered crook — the rent hand- 
 kerchief, with the scattered locks, which 
 had been evidently torn by, the ruffiau 
 grasp of some human monster, from her 
 
 vQi,. r. X
 
 266 THE DAUGHTEHS 
 
 innocent head. " Are these, my lord," 
 he added, " signs of a rescue P Yes, 
 such a rescue as the tiger would have- 
 afforded. I believe," he exclaimed, 
 with pointed bitterness; " I firmly 
 believe the Count, when he asserts, that ' 
 none of die vassals on his domain would 
 dare to act in opposition to the knoxi'u 
 wishes of their lord." 
 
 The Count started from his seat ; but 
 resuming it again, he said: " Baron, 
 your confidence in your son, and his dis- 
 sipated companions, tempts me to en- 
 deavour at opening your eyes to their 
 libertine sentiments, which they would 
 feign hide beneath the mask of hu- 
 manity, and the generous principle of 
 standing forth the defenders of distressed 
 virtue. This romantic tale, which 
 they have dressed up to deceive you 
 into taking an active part in the worth- 
 less girl's cause, will, when explained, 
 cover you with ridicule. This heroine
 
 OF ISENBERG. 267" 
 
 of their romance, endowed by their 
 heated imaginations with beauty, inno- 
 cence, and grace, (consequently too re- 
 fined to tend sheep any where but in Ar- 
 cadia) is the daughter of one of my vas- 
 sals, whose only consequence is derived 
 from his wife's having nursed my daugh- 
 ter. The Countess took her, at this 
 death of this daughter, as a plaything. 
 She was carefully fostered and kindly 
 treated, till some glaring improprieties in 
 her conduct, after the death of the 
 Countess, made me think a removal 
 from the temptations offered in my fa- 
 mily necessary This proposal she treat- 
 ed with insolence, and bmved my autho- 
 rity, with all the dignity of an injured 
 noble. This compelled me to send her 
 to the employment she would have fol- 
 lowed had she never entered my family; 
 that reflection might teach her decency 
 of carriage, and a proper respect for her 
 lord. There your inconsiderate youth* ^ 
 N 2
 
 26$ THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 find her — admire her person — hstcn t^ 
 her story — enhst themselves in her ser- 
 vice — and, finding their apphcation to 
 me unsuccessful, (to give her that li- 
 berty which they no doubt intended to 
 abuse) carry her off, and ingeniously 
 throw the odium on my character. 
 What retribution can you make me for 
 such aspersions — for setting my revered 
 prince against me, and disturbing my 
 peace? ISIy lord, I blush at seeing so 
 distinguished a nobleman descend to 
 act the part of an intrusive medler in 
 the concerns of his neighbour/' 
 
 For a few mmutes, the well acted can- 
 dour of the Count staggered the Baron. 
 Villerose, who had impatiently laid his 
 hand on his sword, but whom a look 
 from his friend had apparently calmed, 
 aeain would have addressed some home 
 questions to the Count ; but Isenberg, 
 stopping him, solemnly intreated Schon- 
 brun to end this contention, by accom-
 
 OF ISENBERG. f69 
 
 panying bim to Saltzburg, and there at- 
 testing before the archbishop, his inno- 
 cence of the evasion of Josephine, 
 
 " This I am willing to do," replied 
 the Count ; " but I must be excused 
 from travelling with the vilifiers of my 
 name. You are at liberty to depart, 
 iny lord, when you please. I will meet 
 you tomorrow at the palace of Saltzburg.^' 
 
 Deeply as the Baron was offended at 
 the language of his host, he resolved to 
 preserve his temper till he had effected 
 «n object on which he was now in- 
 flexibly bent, that of bringing the truth 
 of this affair to light; but that object 
 once accomplished, he was as immove- 
 ably fixed on forcing the Count to give 
 him ample satisfaction for the insults he 
 had received at his hands ; at present, 
 though the storm still continued, at in- 
 tervals^ with the same violence, he gave 
 orders for their immediate departure; 
 nor did his host attempt to dissuade him 
 n3
 
 570 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 from encountering the dangers of so 
 tempestuous a night. 
 
 Isenberg and Villerose, accordingly 
 set off, with tired horses, and fearful 
 drivers. The disagreeable consequences 
 might have been foreseen, if their irri- 
 tated feelings had permitted them to 
 tiiilik of their own safety, or the more 
 irritated Count had wished it. 
 
 V The mountain torrents, sw^onen oy ine 
 yain, had deluged a part of the road, 
 which lay in their journey ; and finding 
 it impassable, the postillions proposed 
 avoiding it, by making a circuit through 
 an apparently good road which offered 
 to the right. *' Do so,^^ said the Baron, 
 and they continued travelling slowly, 
 till the thick shades of night, closed fast 
 upon them, and they became bewildered 
 in the mtricacies of a wood they were 
 traversing — the rich, foliage of which, 
 excluded every ray of light, save what 
 from time to time was darted athwart
 
 OF ISENBERG. 27 1 
 
 the gloom by frequent streaks of moving 
 fire, which shot in rapid gleams from 
 cloud to cloud. In this state, rendered 
 truly comfortless from the uncertainty 
 whether they were pursuing the right 
 track, they had continued to proceed 
 two leagues, when the doleful and 
 monotonous sound of a convent beli^ 
 gave them hopes of soon reaching some 
 habitation, from whence they might 
 procure a guide. 
 
 Directed by its tolling, they pursued 
 the same course, which conducted them 
 to an opening in the wood, through 
 which they were cheered by the glim- 
 mering of a watch-light, at no great dis- 
 tance, though it appeared at a moun- 
 tainous height above them. 
 
 They had scarcely indulged the ray of 
 hope this sight afforded them, when an 
 unforeseen obstacle presented itself to 
 impede their further progress. 
 
 The postillions suddenly refused to 
 n4
 
 i7^ T1I£ DAUGHTERS 
 
 advance one step farther: protesting and 
 calling heaven to witness that a waving 
 mass of pitchy blackness, preceded 
 them, and filled the whole road they 
 were to pass. 
 
 To the earnest remonstrances of the 
 travellers, they swore they would rather 
 starve on that spot, than longer continue 
 to follow the horrid apparition, w hich 
 had already nearly deprived them of 
 their senseSr 
 
 Villerose, finding them equally impe- 
 netrable to threats and persuasions, pro- 
 posed sending forward his own and the 
 Baron^s valets, Thonig and Lusack, to re- 
 connoitre what he could not help be- 
 lieving would tura out to be merely 
 the illusion of a distempered brain. 
 
 The valets, on receiving these orders, 
 instantly obeyed, hallooing the whole 
 way to keep up their own courage, whicb 
 they felt decreasing in proportion as they 
 drew nearer to the terrifk— or as they
 
 OF ISENBERG. 273 
 
 jfeared, supernatural apparition, which 
 liad so unseasonably scared the drivers 
 from their duty. 
 
 Just as they were within a few paces 
 of this incomprehensible phenomenon, 
 a fearful clap of thunder broke with a 
 clattering and reverberating crash over 
 their heads, accompanied by a noise, 
 from this rnurky form, so unhke what 
 their resolution was prepared to encoun-, 
 ter, that they shrank back, horror-struck, 
 and were some minutes lost to the shame 
 of returning as declared cowards to 
 their lords. 
 
 As the enormous monster moved 
 from them, their courage began to re- 
 vive, and they once more persuaded 
 themselves they w^ere heroes. 
 
 Onward they go, and are again within 
 sight of the lugubrious figure. It 
 seemed in their eyes visibly to grow 
 in bulk ! and unable longer to endure 
 the dire deformity in which their own 
 
 N i
 
 ^4 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 frantic fancies decked it, they turned their' 
 horses in wild affright, and were in a 
 few minutes again by the side of tlie 
 carriage, in which they had left the 
 Baron and Villerose. 
 
 To their impatient questions, de- 
 manding the cause of their breathless 
 terror, the men gav€ an account so inco- 
 herent and marvellous— so mixed with 
 apparent truth, and obvious falsehood,that 
 at length, hastily quitting his carriage, 
 Villerose ordered Thonig to conduct 
 him to the path into wWch he fancied 
 he had seen the phantom turn. 
 
 Thonig hesitated, but his lord was 
 peremptory; and the Marquis mount- 
 ing the horse of his servant, and accom- 
 panied by the Baron, soon gained upon 
 this object of dread and wonder. 
 
 As they advanced, it appeared to them 
 also, " a waving mass of pitchy black 
 ness ;'^ and they contemplated it awhile 
 with a somewhat awful curiosity. Pre-
 
 OF ISENBERO. ^S 
 
 gently, a flash of lightening, which 
 seemed to op^n half the sky, glared for 
 one moment on the unwieldy and shape- 
 less substance j while the circling thun- 
 der, which paused to gather strength 
 again burst forth in loud successive 
 peals, till its increasing rage seemed to 
 collect all its tremendous force, to vent, 
 in one wrath-denpuncing crash, its un* 
 bounded fury. 
 
 The migh^shock appalled even the 
 appalling phantom ! for it immediately 
 expanded itself, fluttered for a moment, 
 uttered a hideous scream, and vanished 1 
 
 The Baron and Villerose remained 
 fixed to the spot for a considerable time. 
 At length the former asked his com* 
 panion in what way the " questionable" 
 form had disappeared. Although the 
 lightning still gleamed at intervals, it 
 was no longer visible. 
 
 " To me," replied the Marquis, " it s 
 dark figure seemed to rise and flutter, 
 ^6
 
 f76 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 then heaving a deadly groan, it in the 
 next moment became blended and lost 
 in the dark clouds which roll above." 
 
 " The loud noise as of some ponder- 
 ous weight tumbling to the ground, gave 
 me the idea," rejoined the Baron, " that 
 it had buried itself in the bosom of the 
 earth ; but hark ! its dolorous sounds 
 return ; heard you not then some noise ? 
 
 A sobbing groan, as of one in agony, 
 at that moment became audible ; but it 
 was in vain they looked around in 
 search of its object. Nothing met their 
 enquiring eyes, though the heavy va- 
 pours now beginning to separate, the 
 darkness was no longer impenetrable, 
 notwithstanding the lightning had nearly 
 ceased. 
 
 Again the groan was repeated, but in 
 a lower, fainter key. They called — a 
 third time it struck upon their ear ; but 
 feeble as the last expiring effort of some 
 unfortunate, to summon assistance.
 
 OF ISEKBERG. 277 
 
 Yillerose, with mingled pity and im- 
 patience, now turned to search, the wood 
 on the left; but as he stepped hastily 
 forward, his feet became entangled in 
 something which crossed his path, and 
 he fell on the impediment they had en- 
 countered ; at the same time a piercing 
 shriek issued from within. Great God ! 
 with what stiffened horror did the Mar- 
 quis then discover it to be — a coffin ! 
 
 The pall and shape had aided the un- 
 certain light, to inform him, that it was 
 the last sad casket of the lifeless form of 
 man : but evidently inclosing a breathing 
 victim ! 
 
 Tearing off the covering, he was 
 endeavouring to force the lid, w^lien a 
 voice addressed some words to him, too 
 tremulous to be articulate. 
 
 " Who are you r'' said Yillerose in 
 accents of impatience and distress, 
 ' speak again I — Silent ? — Oh God ! — 
 speak again !" — heexckimed, in a tone 
 of supplicating eagerness.
 
 278 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 The voice once more was raised, and 
 withdifficultypronounced," Josephine!" 
 A srgh followed, as if all was over. 
 
 The Baron had in the mean time hast- 
 ened back lo the carriage, to find some 
 instrument, for unclosing the horrid pri- 
 son-house of the resuscitated body ; for 
 such he beheved it. Returning now^ 
 with his couteau de chasse, he found 
 V^illerose vainly entreating, through an 
 aperture in the lid purposely made for 
 the admission of air, that she would 
 once more let him hear her voice. But 
 the poor girl had no power to obey him : 
 all her strength had been exhausted in 
 her effort to articulate her own name, 
 and the dread least she had expired in 
 the sad receptacle to which she had been 
 prematurely consigned, nearly unmanned 
 the sensitive and passionate Marquis. 
 
 With the assistance of the servants, 
 the coffin was at length opened, and the 
 body taken out ; when Villerose found,
 
 OP ISENBERG. 279 
 
 with delight, that there was a shght 
 fluttering at the heart. 
 
 The Baron now explained to his peo- 
 ple, that what they had seen, was merely 
 men dressed in black clothes, who were 
 conveying a supposed corpse to be buried 
 in the neighbouring monastery ; but, 
 frightened at the storm, had dropped the 
 coffin, which proved to contain a living 
 person. Thus relieved of their terrors 
 of a supernatural being, they were roused 
 to a sense of compassion for the unfor- 
 tunate sufferer, and drove forward the 
 carriage, into which Josephine was im- 
 mediately conveyed. 
 
 The Baron ordering the postillions to 
 proceed cautiously till they had cleared 
 the wood, both noblemen turned their 
 attention to the young mountaineer. 
 
 It was with joy that Villerose, after 
 many minutes of anxiety, heard her 
 breathe gently, and move as if her bruised 
 and numbed limbs began to recover some
 
 280 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 degree of animation; and presently he 
 heard that lengthened respiration, which 
 evinces a relieved bosom. 
 
 This inspired him with the desire to 
 anticipate her wish, of knowing herself 
 in safety, from the fear that the unknown 
 voice of the Baron, might revive her 
 apprehensions. — '* Dear Josephine," said 
 he, in that kind tone which instantly 
 makes its way to the heart of sorrow — 
 *' Dear Josephine, your sufferings are at 
 an end ; you are under the care of those, 
 who will defend you from ever again exr 
 periencing the miseries which have al- 
 most destroyed you. Calm your fears, 
 andlook forward to the happiness which, 
 under the protection and compassion of 
 my friend and companion, the Baron 
 Isenberg, you may promise yourself." 
 That nobleman confirmed this encou- 
 raging and consoling promise with all 
 the native kindness of his character. 
 To which the poor girl attempted to
 
 OF ISENBERG. 281 
 
 make acknowledgments, but the effort 
 ended in an hysteric sob, and it was 
 some time before her laboring breast was 
 reheved bv a flood of tears. 
 
 Her protectors considerately suffered 
 them to flow unchecked, till the drivers, 
 who on quitting the wood stopped for 
 orders, checked also this indulgence, for 
 on hearing them directed to the monas- 
 try on the hill — Josephine exclaimed in 
 pitious horror, *' Oh no ! not to the con- 
 vent — not to the convent!" she repeated, 
 in an agony of terror ; w^hich it was long 
 before the soothing kindness of the Ba- 
 ron and Villerose, with their solemn pro- 
 mise of taking her safely to Isenberg, 
 could subdue. 
 
 No other asylum for the night offering, 
 the horses were taken off, and the tra- 
 vellers resigned themselves to the ne- 
 cessity of awaiting in their carriage the 
 return of day. 
 
 It came, and with it brought new 
 anxieties on account of Josephine'
 
 !^82 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 whose extreme debility from the cruel 
 treatment she had received, made it im- 
 possible to pursue their journey without 
 giving some days of repose to the ha- 
 rassed mind and body of their innocent 
 charge. 
 
 The name of the Baron insured a 
 welcome from the hospitable Monsieur 
 Steinberg, whose residence the domestics 
 dis66vered to be not far from the borders 
 of the wood ; and here the persecuted 
 Josephine was made an object of such 
 considerate kindness, that in a few days 
 they were enabled without danger to the 
 invalid to set out on their much desired 
 return to Isenberg. 
 
 The Baron passed that time in con- 
 sidering whether he should at once lay 
 the whole affair before the Arch-Bishop, 
 or first seek another interview with the 
 Count, and force from him an explana* 
 tion of his conduct. 
 
 He set out in the determination of 
 the latter, and rejoiced as they approach-
 
 Of ISENBERG. 285 
 
 ed the valley of Goltz; for his proud 
 spirit felt restless, under the recollection 
 of the insults he had experienced from 
 him. 
 
 While theBaron's thoughts were decp- 
 lyengaged on this subject, the attention of 
 Villerose was suddenly directed towards 
 a person who was pacing the road with 
 wild disordered steps. Sometimes stop- 
 
 mg ana uttermg iouu ana veaement 
 execrations — then, with frantic haste, 
 striding forwards, beating h\^ breast, 
 raising his clenched hands to heaven and 
 weeping in agony. 
 
 As they approached him, he lifted his 
 eyes. His glance was madness — he 
 broke short his step, and, as if smote by 
 lightning, stood fixed aghast. It was 
 the father of Josephine ! 
 
 Villerose threw himself forward, to 
 hide his figure from the sight of his un- 
 fortunate daughter; and the guilty 
 father, with a look of fierce despair*
 
 ^S^ THE DAUGQTEHS 
 
 buried himself in the gloomy woods of 
 his more guihy lord. 
 
 A little farther, and they reached the 
 road which led to t\ie palace of that lord, 
 when the Baron, in pursuance of his 
 plan, telling the Marquis he would 
 speedily follow, requested that he would 
 proceed with Josephine to the cottage 
 of Christophe, and await there his 
 joinin,^ them ; then mountiDg his horse, 
 as soon as the carriage had driven on, he 
 rode towards Goltz castle. 
 
 As he came within full view of the 
 mansion, the Baron observed with w^on- 
 der the extraordinary change w-hich so 
 short a-time had wrought in that magni- 
 ficent structure, whose massive form 
 had seemed to declare it coeval with the 
 w^orld, and proudly determined to rival 
 its duration. 
 
 Its halls had echoed to the steps of 
 the numerous and obedient vaesals of its 
 lord; riches, power, and luxury, display-
 
 OF ISENBKRG. 9Si 
 
 ed their ensigns in each pompous cham- 
 ber, while the smile, tlie look, the word 
 of the imperious owner, dispensed a€ 
 pleasure, joy or sorrow ! 
 
 What did this so late princely struc- 
 ture now exhibit ? Dismantled battle- 
 ments, mutilated bulwarks, and out 
 stately tower, levelled with the earth! 
 
 The Haron in silent astonishment ap- 
 proached the devastated building. At a 
 little distance from the draw-bridge he 
 dismounted, and leaving his horse and 
 people behind, approached alone the 
 portal of the castle. 
 
 He rang the full-toned bell — no 
 ready servants flew to obey the sum- 
 mons — again he rang a louder peal, 
 but the vibration of its heavy notes had 
 gradually ceased, before he even heard 
 the sound of advancing footsteps. The 
 Baron found himself unaccountably 
 moved. 
 
 At length the iron studded door was
 
 586 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 slowly unbarred, and still more slowly 
 opened by the steward of the household. 
 On his first seeing the Baron, the vene- 
 rable man started with a mixture of sur- 
 prize, fear, and grief; but recovering 
 himself, he demanded^ in a tremulous 
 voice, what was his lordship's pleasure. 
 
 " I would speak with the Count De 
 Schonbrun?" replied the Baron ; " con- 
 duct me to him instantly." 
 
 " Alas ! my lord, you cannot /'* said 
 the steward, w^hile he sorrowfully shook 
 his silvery locks. 
 
 " I demand immediate access to 
 your lord," repeated Isenberg impati- 
 ently, for the suspicion had seized him, 
 that the Count, aware of his approach, 
 had ordered himself to be denied. 
 *' Lead the way to his presence, for I 
 positively will see him." 
 
 Thestew^ard now in mournful silence, 
 wav^ing the Baron to follow 4iim, pro- 
 ceeded to the great hall ; where, point-
 
 OP ISENBERG. 287 
 
 ing to the upper end, and exclaiming, 
 " Behold him there!*' a spectacle sa- 
 luted that nobleman, which petrified 
 him with horror. 
 
 He there discovered, stretched on a 
 magnificent bier, in all the mockery of 
 state, the mangled and disfigured corpse 
 of the late powerful lord of Goltz 1 — 
 disfigured indeed ! The Baron's soul 
 recoiled from the sight •' he drop- 
 ped from his unnerved hand the em- 
 broidered covering he had raised on 
 approaching it, and rushing into the 
 anti-room, by covering his face, endea- 
 voured to conquer the horrid sensations 
 created by the miserably crushed object 
 he had viewed. 
 
 But he could not easily banish from 
 his ^' mind's eye'' the disgusting picture 
 of that mangled head, which had retain- 
 ed no feature — no one lineament that 
 could render it cognizable. It was 
 become a shapeless mass of corruption.
 
 S8S THE DAXJOHTERS 
 
 The Baron sought the reviving effects 
 f)f open air, and the steward followed 
 him into the gardens, where he gathered 
 from the distressed servant, that the 
 same avenging stroke w hich had rescued 
 the unsheltered, the humble, the ap- 
 parently, unprotected Josephine, from 
 the conscience-struck agents of her lore}, 
 had reached that powerful lord, even 
 within the armed battlements, of his cas- 
 tellated palace ! 
 
 During many a peal of thunder, on 
 that eventful night, (on which Isenberg, 
 and his young friend had quitted Goltz) 
 did its proud turrets rock in threatning 
 terror; and many a mighty flash, with 
 fearful glare, had dimmed the brilliant 
 lights wdiich illumed the splendid 
 mansion of its lord ; yet remorse came 
 not to his bosom. 
 
 The echoes of the rocks and the 
 caverns of the neighbouring hills, re- 
 peated, in hollow reverberation,^ the
 
 OF ISENBERG. ^S§ 
 
 aWfiil warning ! still conscience awoke 
 not. Thus past away unimpeded the 
 hour of grace; and the same omnipo- 
 tent arm, which had caused the Counts 
 less hardened villains to drop from their 
 palsied grasp the innocent object of his 
 unjust revenge, even at the same 
 moment, shook from its strong hold the 
 tower in which their tyrant employer 
 slept; and, hurhng it from its frowning 
 height, buried beneath the failing ruin 
 its once mighty lord ! 
 
 " Had not your Lordship/' observed 
 the stew^ard, " providentially quitted 
 Goltz that evening, you would, by sleep- 
 ing in that tower, have shared (with 
 your friend) the fate of my regretted 
 master. 
 
 As Isenberg, with mingled awe and 
 ijratitude elevated his heart to heaven, 
 he secretly ejaculated, " Had I aban- 
 doned the cause of innocence, I had 
 merited the chastisement !" 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 ?90 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 Villerose, who with much reluctance 
 had allowed the Baron to go unaccom- 
 panied by himself to Goltz, (having 
 .left Josephine under the care of Chris- 
 tophers father, that he might hasten back 
 to rejoin his friend) that moment ap- 
 peared in sight. Isenberg immediately 
 delated w^hat had happened, and on their 
 learning, through the steward, that one 
 of the persons who had forcibly carried 
 off the persecuted girl was then in the 
 castle, and confined to his bed from ill- 
 ness, they instantly repaired to his 
 chamber, where they learnt from his 
 own confession the villanies he had as- 
 sisted in endeavouring to carry into 
 execution: his employer, on finding 
 that his late guest was actually gone to 
 entreat the interference of the Arch- 
 bishop, justly suspected, from the well 
 known character of that Prince, that he 
 would interfere to remove the object of 
 his vengeance beyond the reach of his 
 future persecutions.
 
 or ISENBERG. 291 
 
 To anticipate these measures was, 
 therefore, his determination ; and he im- 
 mediately summoned Duseck to his pre- 
 sence, with whom he consuited on the 
 most safe and certain means of eflfect- 
 ing this object. 
 
 Before they separated, it was planned 
 that his agent should provide himself 
 with a coffin, so constructed as to admit 
 sufficient air to preserve the life of her, 
 who was for a time to be imprisoned 
 within. A party of hirelings was then 
 to accompany him to the solitary hut of 
 Josephine, and, forcing her into this 
 gloomy receptacle, were to convey her 
 
 so concealed to the Convent of , 
 
 whose superior was apprized of the guest 
 she was to expect, and who was easily 
 won over by thehberahty of the Count 
 to undertake the eternal imprisonment 
 of a young creature, whom Schonbrun 
 represented as a compound of artifice 
 and ingratitude. 
 
 o 3
 
 2.Q2 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 The wretches, however, after scah'ug: 
 the mountain, had eQcountered a diffi- 
 culty for which they were not prepared. 
 They ibund Christophe with Josephine, 
 who, though still weak from his woijnd, 
 brav eb/ defended her, till, over-powered 
 bv; niirp.bers, he was left for dead on the* 
 scene of thesf^ atrocities. 
 
 He was, however, a few hours after- 
 wards discovered by a young hunter, 
 and conveyed by hhn to his cottage^ 
 where he experienced friendship and 
 hospitality. His hurts, though severe, 
 were not mortal, but his mind was^ 
 during his confinemeiit, a prey to the 
 most distracting apprehensions for the 
 fate of his beloved shepherdess. 
 
 That unhappy young creature, in the 
 mean time, after seeing her faithful dog 
 laid dead at her feet by die ruffians, vv^as 
 Anally placed in the machine so art- 
 fully devised to baffie all probability of 
 tracing whither she had been conveyed ;
 
 or ISENBE1K4. SjjS 
 
 since all, who met the procession, na- 
 turally concluded that the men were 
 bearing some departed being to his last 
 home. 
 
 After descending the mountain with 
 infinite dilficulty, they were proceeding 
 towards the appointed convent with 
 their helpless victim when driven by the 
 storm to seek the shelter of the wood : 
 within its recesses they were first per- 
 ceived by the terrified postillions of the 
 Baron, to whose scared senses the 
 waving of the pall, beneath which they 
 had taken refuge from the rain, gave the 
 idea of the " mass of pitchy blackness," 
 and which afterwards for awhile puzzled 
 also their lords. 
 
 The almost unprecedented horrors of 
 
 the night,* had in the end completely 
 
 * Those who have never witnessed them can 
 
 form but a faint idea of the violence of thunder 
 
 storms in the viciniry of metallic mines, where tie 
 
 lightning is frequently seen to plough up the 
 
 ^earth in the most terrific manner. 
 
 J
 
 294 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 terrified the conscience-struck hirelings 
 of the Count, and persuaded them that 
 Heaven's artillery was pointed at them- 
 selves. Under this impression, the same 
 awful explosion which, while it seemed 
 to, rend the skies, fell on the lofty tower 
 of Goltz, and annihilated its lord, af- 
 fected his villanous agents with a panic^ 
 which compelled their palsied arms to 
 drop their nearly lifeless burthen, and, 
 cowards like, to flee ! 
 
 To this circumstance did Josephine 
 owe her almost miraculous rescue ; for 
 had she once reached the convent, and 
 been received within its walls, all traces 
 of her would have been for ever lost to 
 her zealous friends. 
 
 \¥hen all that had appeared so won- 
 derful in this aliair was thus so clearly 
 explained, the Baron enquired if any 
 one but the Count de Sebonbrun had 
 suffered by the injury the castle had sus- 
 tained. On his beine answered in the
 
 OF ISENBEEG. 295 
 
 negative, he demanded the cause of the 
 mansion's being so entirely deserted ? 
 The steward satisfied him by the infor- 
 mation, that, during the storm, the 
 alarmed domestics had assembled in the 
 kitchen, which was far distant from the 
 scene of devastation. 
 
 There, assembled round the fire, they 
 encouraged each other in their growing 
 apprehensions ; till at length, through 
 the bowlings of the tempest, they heard 
 the fatal crash, and fancied, in the pause 
 which succeeded, that groans w^ere dis- 
 tinguishable : but fear kept them sta- 
 tionary till morning. 
 
 When they discovered the fatal effects 
 of that appalhng moment, they all, ex- 
 cept himself, instantly forsook the man- 
 sion in superstitious dread ; not one 
 staying till the search was over for the 
 body of their ill-fated master. 
 
 This office was performed by the good 
 old steward and some of tlie vassals;
 
 ?93 THE DAUGHTERS 
 
 and soon after this melancholy task xras 
 accomplished, Duseck arrived at Goltz, 
 in the intention of informing his lord of 
 what had befallen him. 
 
 The sioht which saluted this before 
 ill-disposed confidant of his guilty em 
 ployer, reduced him to the state in 
 which he still lay. 
 
 Villerose and the Baron now quitted 
 this scene of desolation and death with 
 minds awfully impressed by the lesson 
 it offered them. 
 
 On their way to the cottage of Chris- 
 tophc's father, perceiving at a distance 
 a crowd of the late Count de Schon- 
 brun's vassals, the}^ sent forward a ser- 
 vant to inquire into the cause. 
 
 The man brought back information 
 that they were bearino' home an unfor- 
 tunate peasant, who had been found 
 dead in a neighbouring wood. 
 
 The ^tate,of mind in which the Mar* 
 quis had lately seen the father of Jose« 
 1
 
 OF ISENBERe. "297 
 
 phine instantly impressed him with a 
 suspicion that he was the uufoitunate i 
 and, in the resokition of at once ascer- 
 taining this circumstance, he now fol- 
 lowed the party to the habitation whither 
 they had borne the body ; and there 
 found the truth of his conjectures con* 
 firmed. 
 
 The poor man had never been him- 
 self fi'om the period of his daughter's 
 disappearance, whose hut he visited with 
 an intent to comfort her the next 
 morning after Villerose quitted it^ and 
 found it deserted, as the Marquis had 
 described. 
 
 He had from that time wandered like 
 a maniac about the country, in search 
 of her, as it was supposed ; but his in«. 
 tellects were too much unsettled for bini 
 to recognize Josephine, althc-righ he had 
 seen her face in the Baron's carriage. 
 
 It w^as evident, by the blood which 
 issued from his mouth, that his death
 
 29S THE DAUGHTEKS OF ISENEERCJ. 
 
 had been occasioned by the bursting of ^ 
 blood-vessel ; brought on, it was sup- 
 posed, by the agitation of his mind. 
 
 The noble protectors of his amiable 
 daughter, determining to conceal this 
 fatal catastrophe till she was better able 
 to bear it, after arranging with the father 
 of Christophe, that, as soon as his son 
 was sufficiently recovered, he was to 
 bring him to Isenberg immediately de- 
 parted with Josephine for that place, 
 which they reached without further ad- 
 venture on the following morning. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 riintetl br J. T. Dcwick, 46, Barbican, London
 
 Lately Published^ 
 
 IW THREE VOLUMES, PRICE 18S. 
 
 THE 
 
 HUSBAND AND THE LOVER, 
 
 AN HISTORICAL AND MORAL 
 
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 BY THE AUTHOR OF THE DAUGHTERS OF ISENBERG. , 
 
 '• It has been .just]}' obser\e(l by Johnson, that to select 
 a singular e\ ent and swell it to a giant's bulk by fabulous 
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 consider it as a model in this amusing and instructive 
 branch of hterature. Our commendation of it is the 
 more full and unreserved, in consequence of the excel- 
 lence of its precepts, and the purity of its moral." Vide 
 Monthly Mirror — see also Monthly Review, lyritish 
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 BY 
 
 niCHAED CUMBERLAND, Esq. 
 
 ^\ John dr Lancaster is a novel of the highest order. 
 The nan-ative is extrf-mely amusing, and -written in a 
 lively and agreeable style ; it is alv.ays correct, and often 
 elegant : in its pages we find much learning, and number- 
 less cfiusions of the tenderest seusibihty, with the truest 
 and most pathetic touches of nature; but no bombastic 
 flights of imagination, no far stretched imagery, no 
 insidious positions. All is pleasant and consistent ; and 
 the several personages introdu?'ed, and the ^ arious scenes 
 described, are all hit off v, lih singular neatness of execu- 
 tion in the gentlemanly spirit of genuine English humour. 
 Tliis alone surely is no mean praise ; but Mr. Cuniberland's 
 merit entitles him to nobler honoui-s.' The mode in 
 which he e^ idently, in the work before us, desires to be 
 considered as challenging the love and admiration of his 
 readers, is Delectando jiariter-nue monendo: and herein 
 he is certainly successful. In the words of Johnson, on 
 another author (Richardsoii) Mr. C. endeavours to teach 
 the Passions to tuove at the command of VirtUi^; and we 
 congratulate the Paolic on the brilliant execution of a 
 design, meritorious at all times, but incalculably bene- 
 ficial in tiraes hke the present, when ten thousand presses 
 groan with lewd and detesti'.ble compositions of every 
 species and degree of comparative malignity." I'ide Seiti- 
 rist — set also the (Quarterly and other Jieviews,
 
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 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS-URBANA 
 
 0112 055271172