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THE 
 
 ANCIENT REGIME, 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
London : 
 
 Printed by A. Spottiswoode, 
 
 New- Street-Sqn are. 
 
THE 
 
 ANCIENT R:EaiME: 
 
 A TALE. 
 
 BY 
 
 G. P. R. JAMES, ESQ. 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 " THE GIPSY," " THE ROBBER," " THE GENTLEMAN OF THE 
 OLD SCHOOL," ETC. ETC. ETC, 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 LONDON : 
 
 PRINTED FOR 
 
 LONGMAN, BROWN, GREEN, & LONGMANS, 
 
 PATERNOSTER-ROW. 
 
 184L 
 
DEDICATION. 
 
 TO 
 
 ONE OF THE EARLIEST^ THE BEST, AND 
 THE WISEST OF MY FRIENDS^ 
 
 ALEXANDEE HUNTEE, ESQ. W.S. 
 
 &c. &c. &c. 
 
 IS DEDICATED, 
 
 BY 
 
 ONE GRATEFUL TO HIM FOR MUCH KINDNESS, AND 
 
 BOUND TO HIM BY OLD AFFECTION, 
 
 G. P. R. JAMES. 
 

 PREFACE. 
 
 An apology is due to the public for the em- 
 ployment in the very title of this book of a 
 word taken from a foreign language. Although 
 the term " regime" has been commonly used in 
 England in the sense which is here given to it, 
 I certainly should not have retained it had I 
 been able to discover any purely English ex- 
 i^pression to signify that state of society and 
 ^government which existed in France imme- 
 \X diately before the first revolution. There are 
 ^ doubtless many other faults in these volumes 
 ^_j which equally require excuse, and I can only 
 ^ trust that upon all these points the public will 
 ^extend to me the same lenity which it has 
 o hitherto evinced. 
 
Vlll PREFACE. 
 
 In the following tale I have deviated, in some 
 degree, from the usual plan of my romances, 
 and have undertaken a somewhat difficult task, 
 though that task is one which I had long con- 
 templated before I began the execution, and 
 for which I had arranged the plot and cha- 
 racters with the hope of producing a certain 
 moral effect upon the minds of my fellow-men, 
 at the same time that 1 afforded them amuse- 
 ment for an idle hour. 
 
 A subject of no slight interest was to be 
 found in the education of a girl from infancy to 
 womanhood by a man unconnected with her by 
 blood, together with the results to both ; but 
 at the same time, to treat it properly was not 
 an easy undertaking. In attempting it, I have 
 striven to depict the fine shades of character 
 and emotion, rather than the broader contrasts, 
 the scenic light and shade, and the somewhat 
 melodramatic effects, for which there is a great 
 fondness in the present day. But I believe the 
 public can appreciate and like two styles of 
 composition very different from each other; 
 
PREFACE. IX 
 
 and that while tales of strongly excited pas- 
 sion, of crime, and sorrow, may occupy its 
 attention at one moment, it will not fail to 
 turn to quieter paintings of the human heart, if 
 the pictures are executed with fidelity and 
 vigour. Whether I have in any degree suc- 
 ceeded in doing so in the following pages, the 
 reader must judge ; but I trust, at all events, 
 he will find that the story in which the various 
 characters are brought forward may afford 
 sufficient interest to carry him not unwillingly 
 through the work. 
 
 In the character of Annette de St. Morin, I 
 have had the peculiar difficulties to contend 
 with which every man must encounter when he 
 endeavours to depict the many fine gradations 
 of thought and feeling produced in a woman's 
 bosom by the different events of her life ; and, 
 certainly, the circumstances in which I have 
 placed her have not made the task more easy. 
 Nevertheless, I trust the picture is a true one, 
 and I believe it to be so. The rule which I 
 have gone by in painting this character is, to 
 
X PREFACE. 
 
 have all the observations that I have made 
 through life, upon the nature and conduct of 
 woman, present to my mind, like colours ready 
 on a palette; and I have never asked myself 
 what would be my own sensations in any par- 
 ticular circumstance alluded to, but what would 
 be the feelings of a woman, of such a woman, 
 and of one so educated. Whether I have di- 
 vined- right, or whether I have made a mistake, 
 women alone can judge. 
 
 In the character of the abbe. Count de Cas- 
 telneau, I had scarcely less matter for reflec- 
 tion ; and although I know I might have placed 
 him — as a consequence of his own acts — in 
 much more striking and dramatic situations, I 
 have deliberately refrained from doing so, satis- 
 fied that there was a sufficient portion of ad- 
 venture in the book to make it interesting to 
 the mere lover of story, and seeking to avoid 
 any thing the least meretricious and unreal in 
 the portraiture of characters drawn with a 
 higher view. 
 
PREFACE. IX 
 
 The rest of the personages I believe to be 
 human beings, without more of evil or more of 
 good than is to be found in a very great num- 
 ber of our fellow-creatures. Many of the 
 traits in the Baron de Cajare are not only 
 natural, but recorded matters of fact ; and those 
 that are so comprise every point that is at all 
 out of the ordinary run of events. 
 
 For various reasons, with which I will not 
 trouble the reader at present, I judged it im- 
 practicable to remove the period of the story 
 into any other reign than that of Louis XV., 
 although the insane debaucheries of his latter 
 years rendered that monarch's court the last 
 which one would willingly depict. I trust, 
 however, that in those passages where the 
 scene is laid in Paris or Versailles, nothing 
 will be found which can offend the most deli- 
 cate mind ; and I am certain that not a word 
 can be discovered which has a tendency, di- 
 rectly or indirectly, to encourage vice, or which 
 has for its object any thing but the promotion 
 
XU PREFACE. 
 
 of that high and holy philosophy which came 
 from God, and leads man to him. 
 
 That the work may please you, reader, is my 
 sincere wish ; but if it should benefit you also, 
 if there should be one sentence in it, or one 
 passage, which may elevate your views or purify 
 your purposes, or withdraw you from an error, 
 or lead you to a virtue, I have done all that I 
 could hope, and have more than my reward. 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 27ie Shrubbery, Walmer 
 Juncy 1841. 
 
THE 
 
 ANCIENT REGIME, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 In a low-roofed room, on the seventh story of 
 a house in one of the back streets of the city of 
 Paris, and in the year 17 — , sat a man habited 
 as an artisan, and bearing in his whole appear- 
 ance the signs and tokens of a person in the 
 lowest ranks of life. His dr^ss was soiled and 
 dirty, his face and hands not very clean, his 
 sleeves were tucked up nearly to the clbo-.-.'s, 
 and a large leathern apron, which once had 
 been white, hung from his neck, and was girded 
 round his middle. In form he was a powerful 
 
 VOL. I. B 
 
2 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 man, with broad shoulders, a deep chest, and a 
 sinewy arm ; and his countenance was fine, 
 though not exactly handsome, with a frank and 
 free, yet thoughtful, expression, a fine open 
 brow, with a look of shrewd good sense and 
 some careless humour. In height he stood well 
 nigh six feet, and in age might have seen about 
 seven or eight and twenty years. 
 
 In the centre of the room, which was large, 
 though, as we have said, low in the roof, was a 
 table covered with various implements used by 
 the man in pursuit of his trade. There were 
 two lamps, one of which was of a very peculiar 
 form, standing together in the centre of a sort 
 of tray ; and, beside them, lay a multitude of 
 pincers, of all sorts and sizes, several small 
 files, numerous little coils of gold and silver 
 wire, one or two small crucibles and ladles, a 
 watch-glass half full of fine oil, and a blow- 
 pipe. All these signs and circumstances, to 
 the eye of the initiated, would have revealed at 
 once that the man was a filigree-worker — a 
 trade then much followed in the French capital, 
 though it was the jewellers and great gold- 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 8 
 
 smiths who swallowed up the principal part of 
 its profits, leaving little but a bare subsistence 
 and all the labour to those who produced the va- 
 rious beautiful little ornaments which decorated 
 the toilet table of every fine lady in those days. 
 
 The man, at the moment the reader entered 
 his room, was occupied in the pursuit of his 
 calling. From a soiled sheet of paper before 
 him, covered all over with tracings of the most 
 beautiful arabesques that it was possible to con- 
 ceive, he was imitating, with the greatest nicety 
 and delicacy, in silver, a small basket, repre- 
 senting the cup of a lotus. Now he plied with 
 the utmost rapidity a small pair of pincers; 
 now he used the file to remove any little irre- 
 gularity; now, by the use of the blow-pipe, he 
 fixed the numerous threads and filaments to- 
 gether, at places where the juncture could 
 scarcely be perceived. Then, when he had 
 done a certain portion, he paused, looked at it, 
 and seemed to admire his own work. 
 
 At length, as the filigree- worker was thus 
 proceeding, a slight noise from the other side of 
 the room, a mere rustle, as it were, caught the 
 B 2 
 
4 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 quick ear of the Parisian artisan, and, starting 
 up from his stool, he laid down the pincers and 
 the little basket, and, moving with a quiet step 
 across the room, peeped into a cradle, which 
 stood v/ithin a few feet of the fire-place. 
 
 Therein lay as beautifid an infant as ever 
 was seen : a little girl, fine, healthy, rosy, 
 seeming to set at defiance all those sad ills of 
 poverty by which she was evidently surrounded. 
 She had woke up from sleep, and when she 
 saw the well-known face above her, she smiled 
 gladly and moved her little arms. The artisan 
 gazed upon her for a moment thoughtfully, 
 then shook his head with somewhat of a sigh, 
 saying, " I must not take thee up, for I have 
 nothing to give thee. Sleep, sleep, my baby, 
 for I must work for food ; " and rocking the 
 cradle gently with his hand, he endeavoured 
 to lull the child into slumber again by singing 
 to her one of the many little lullabies which 
 w^ere then, and still are, common in France. 
 He had just succeeded, and was still going on 
 lor a little, to make the conquest of the drowsy 
 god secure, when the door opened, and a good- 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 5 
 
 looking woman about his own age entered, 
 and approached him quietly. There was some 
 degree of sorrow, and some degree of timidity, 
 in her look ; and indeed her face was like that 
 of one who brings tidings that will certainly 
 grieve, and may perhaps offend ; and yet the 
 good artisan did not seem of a disposition likely 
 to be offended easily, or to be approached with 
 fear — at least by a woman. 
 
 " Well, Margiette," he said, in a low voice, 
 " would he give you the money ?" 
 
 " Not a sou," replied the woman, in a sad 
 tone : "he said that he had never in his life 
 paid a farthing for any vvork before it was done, 
 and never would." 
 
 The man bit his lip, and his brow grew dark 
 for a moment. " Well, well," he said with a 
 smile, and a sigh the next moment, " the 
 man's not wrong, after all." 
 
 " He said something too," said the woman, 
 " about your not having finished the last vinai- 
 grette which he bought of you, at the time you 
 promised it." 
 
 " How could I?" exclaimed the man, 
 B 3 
 
6 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 sharply. " Did I not burn my hand? and could 
 I do fine work with my hand all swelled ?" 
 
 '' But he saw you at the fair at Charenton," 
 said the woman. 
 
 " To be sure," answered her husband, with 
 a laugh. " I don't walk with my hands, so I 
 could go to Charenton though I could not 
 
 work But you watch the child, Margiette ! 
 
 — I must sit up and work all night, and all day 
 to-morrow. I can get the basket finished before 
 seven to-morrow. It is only for the child I 
 care: what can be done for it? — Hark ye, 
 Margiette : take that lamp I am not using to 
 the revendeuse, and see what she will give 
 you for it : the poor babe must have something 
 to eat, and you, too, my Margiette : I can do 
 very well without." 
 
 The woman had still continued to gaze in 
 his face with a timid look, as if she had some- 
 thing to say which she was half afraid of utter- 
 ing, but she now answered, " I have got some- 
 thing tor the child, Pierre, here in my basket." 
 "How, how?" demanded the man, some- 
 what sharply. " How did you get it ?" 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 7 
 
 " Nay, do not be angiy : I would not have 
 taken it, Pierre, but for the child. There 
 were three gentlemen in Monsieur Fiteau's 
 shop changing some gold, and buying some 
 lace ; and one of them, an abbe, seeing me 
 well nigh inclined to weep when Fiteau refused 
 me the money, began to ask me questions ; and 
 I told him that I should not care about the 
 matter, for that my husband could soon get 
 the work done, but that there was a child, and 
 a child's hunger would not wait. Upon which 
 he offered me some money. I would only 
 take half a livre, for I thought you would be 
 angry ; but, as I came along, I bought this 
 little loaf, and some milk for the child ; and 
 now," she added, " here are five sous more : if 
 you will let me, I will go and buy something 
 for your supper." 
 
 " No," said her husband, '• no : you did 
 very right, good wife, to take the money for 
 the child, but I cannot eat the bread of charity 
 while I can work. Make something for the 
 little one and for yourself: I can do very well 
 without till to-morrow." 
 B 4 
 
8 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 The woman declared that she would not taste 
 any thing if he did not; and, as usual, by per- 
 severing she gained her point. They divided 
 the bread into three portions, reserved one, to- 
 gether with the milk, against the child's wak- 
 ing, and each took another. The woman ate 
 hers with calm and quiet resignation ; but the 
 man swallovved two or three mouthfuls with 
 difficulty, and then, putting down the crust 
 upon the table, burst into tears, exclaiming, 
 " This is the first time I have eaten the bread 
 of charity ! Oh, may it be the last !" 
 
 Almost as he spoke, there was a knock at 
 the chamber door, a hand laid upon the latch 
 thereof, and a stranger entered the room. He 
 was dressed in the habit of an abbe, which was, 
 in some degree, clerical, and distinguished from 
 the rest of the world those personages who had 
 taken what are called the first vows, which, in 
 fact, bound them to nothing. Those vows were 
 continually renounced at pleasure ; and even 
 while they remained in force they did not re- 
 strain the person v^^ho had taken them from 
 mingling with the full current of worldly things, 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 9 
 
 enjoying all the pleasures, and but too often 
 sharing in all the vices, of society. Abbes were 
 prevented, indeed, from marrying till they had 
 formally cast off those vows ; but this restriction 
 was of course only an occasion for additional 
 licentiousness ; so that it became a common 
 saying, in regard to any one who had a nu- 
 merous family, " He has as many children as 
 an abbe." 
 
 The person who entered might be five or 
 six and thirty, and was a fine powerful man, 
 though the countenance was somewhat pale 
 and sallow, and the eyes were near together, 
 though fine ; while a curl about the lip denoted 
 that there was some bitterness of spirit within, 
 either from disappointment, or a turn of mind 
 naturally sarcastic. 
 
 There is, perhaps, as much of what we may 
 call expression in a man's carriage, and par- 
 ticularly in his step, as there is in his coun- 
 tenance; and the step of the abbe was very 
 peculiar. It was slow and noiseless, but firm 
 and fixed. Though his shoulders were not 
 round, his head bent a little forward, and his 
 
10 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 full dark eyes, when resting on any object, re- 
 mained half open, without the slightest wander- 
 ing or movement. Though keen in themselves, 
 no motion betrayed the secrets of the heart: 
 they seemed full of inquiry, but answered no- 
 thing. 
 
 I mean not by any means to say that his 
 countenance was without expression, for it had 
 much peculiar character of its own ; though 
 the expression varied only according to his will, 
 and not according to his emotions. On the 
 present occasion, his lip bore a benign and 
 chastened smile; and though he entered with 
 his broad-brimmed hat on, he removed it im- 
 mediately as he advanced towards the table. 
 The filigree-worker and his wife both rose ; and 
 the woman dropped a low courtesy, while her 
 husband fixed his eyes with an inquiring and 
 even somewhat stern glance upon the stranger, 
 and then suddenly turned and looked for a 
 moment towards the dying embers of their 
 small fire, till he had wiped away all traces of 
 the late emotion from his face. 
 
 " I have been inquiring into your situation, 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. II 
 
 my good lady, since I saw you," said the 
 abbe, " and from the account which even that 
 hard-hearted old usurer Fiteau gives of you 
 and your husband, I have become interested 
 in you, and wish to know if I can serve you." 
 
 The woman hesitated, and Pierre himself 
 turned round and remained silent for a single 
 minute, gazing on the stranger with a curious 
 and somewhat doubtful smile. At length he 
 answered, " We have much to thank you for 
 already, sir, and it is an easy thing to serve 
 people so poor as we are." 
 
 " Not always," answered the abbe without 
 a change of countenance : " each person in 
 this world has his particular views, and I 
 already know that you have yours." 
 
 "How so, sir?" said the man, again gazing 
 on him eagerly : " have I ever seen you be- 
 fore?" 
 
 " Not that I know of, my good friend," 
 replied the abbe with a smile ; " but your 
 question is easily answered. There are about 
 ten men in Paris under the king, who, if I 
 had offered them half a dozen livres, would 
 
12 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 have refused to take them. Now, some twenty 
 minutes ago, I offered your wife here, when 
 I saw she was in distress, a handful of the 
 change I had just received. She contented 
 herself with lialf a livre, and when I urged 
 her to take more, said that her husband would 
 be angry if she did. Now, have I not reason 
 to say, that you have your own peculiar views ? 
 — But, to put all such things aside, tell me if 
 I can serve you, and how." 
 
 " Only, sir, I believe, by ordering some of 
 these trinkets from me," replied the man in a 
 tone considerably softened ; and he pointed to 
 the basket he was working. 
 
 The abbe took it up and examined it. " It 
 is very beautiful," he said : " come, I will buy 
 this of you, and pay you for it now — though 
 I, alas ! " he added, " have neither wife nor 
 children to please with such gauds. What is 
 the price of it ?" 
 
 " Nay, sir, I cannot sell you that," replied 
 the man : " it is promised to Monsieur Fiteau ; 
 but I can soon work you another exactly like 
 it." 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 13 
 
 " You can work him another," replied the 
 abbe, somewhat sharply. " Why should I wait, 
 who am willing to befriend you, and he not, 
 who will do nothing for you ? " 
 
 " Because I have promised it to him, sir,'* 
 replied the man simply, " and I cannot break 
 my word.'* 
 
 '• You are right," answered the abbe : " I 
 applaud your honesty, and you shall work me 
 another. What may the price be, my good 
 friend?" 
 
 " Nay, sir, I hardly know," replied the fili- 
 gree-worker. " Monsieur Fiteau pays me five 
 livres for my labour, and finds the silver ; but 
 what he charges I cannot tell." 
 
 The stranger took up the basket and exa- 
 mined it with a thoughtful air, murmuring as 
 if to himself, "The usurer! — What may the 
 silver be worth?" 
 
 *' Some six or seven livres when spun into 
 wire,'* replied the man. 
 
 " And he gives you five,** rejoined the abbe, 
 " taking forty for himself. Out upon it ! Here, 
 my friend, here are ten livres to begin with : 
 
14 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 when you bring me the basket done, I will give 
 you twenty more, and then I shall have the 
 trinket at about one half of the price which this 
 man Fiteau would charge me for it." 
 
 The iiiigree-worker suffered the abbe to 
 put the money down upon the table without 
 taking it up. He looked at it somewhat wist- 
 fully, indeed, and then said, " I should not wish 
 for any thing beforehand, but for the sake of 
 the child. We have a hard matter to support 
 ourselves, sir, and, to say the truth, the poor 
 babe is sometimes sadly'pinched. I feared this 
 night that I should be obliged to sell some of 
 my tools, or let the poor babe want till to- 
 morrow night." 
 
 " Ay, so your wife told me," replied the 
 abbe, " and it was about that I came hither. 
 Do you love the child very much?" 
 
 The man gazed at him with an inquiring 
 look for a moment, ere he replied ; but he said 
 at length, " We do love the child much, sir ! 
 Can you doubt it?" 
 
 " Well, then," rejoined the abbe, " what I 
 have to propose will give you pleasure. I want 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 15 
 
 some object to fix my affections upon in this 
 world. I have many rich benefices, and but 
 few objects of thought or care. You shall give 
 me your child to educate — I will adopt it as my 
 own, and lead it forward unto wealth and high 
 station. What say you, will you consent?" 
 
 The proposal was in every respect an extra- 
 ordinary one; for it must be recollected, that 
 the distinctions of classes in France was at that 
 time preserved with the greatest strictness : and 
 though there might have been nothing wonder- 
 ful at all in a wealthy abbe adopting the child 
 of any poor noble, yet the idea of his selecting 
 an object for adoption from either the class of 
 roturiers or artisans could never have presented 
 itself until that moment to the mind of the 
 filigree-worker and his wife. Yet, strange to 
 say, it did not seem to surprise either of them 
 very much. 
 
 " Will you give us some time to consider of 
 it?" said the man, bluntly. 
 
 " How long would you have ? " demanded 
 the abbe. 
 
 The filigree-worker thought for a moment, 
 
16 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 and then required four days, to which the 
 stranger consented; and after speaking with 
 them for some time longer upon their circum- 
 stances and situation, the abbe gave them his 
 address and left them. 
 
 The filigree-worker continued to labour at 
 the basket durino: the whole nioht; but thoufyh 
 he had made considerable progress before the 
 next morning, the trinket was not yet completed 
 when the daylight began to peep in at the high 
 window. As soon as day did appear, however, 
 Pierre rose from his labour, washed his face 
 and hands clean, cast away his working apron 
 and jacket, and put on his holyday coat. He 
 then took five out of the ten livres which the 
 abbe had given him ; woke his wife, who had 
 gone to bed, with a kiss ; and, telling her that 
 he was about to set out, but would be back 
 certainly at the end of the three days, he de- 
 scended the long narrow staircase of the house, 
 and issued forth into the street. 
 
 The artisan plodded onward with a quick 
 step and a resolute face through the gates of 
 Paris and the suburbs, past St. Denis, Ecouen, 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 17 
 
 and Luzarches, till he reached Chantilly, to- 
 wards the hour of four in the afternoon. It 
 was a long walk : the road was dusty, and the 
 filigree-worker paused for an hour to get some 
 food, and to rest himself; but at the end of that 
 time he recommenced his journey, proceeding 
 by Creil, till he came to the pleasant village 
 of Cauffry under Liancourt, where he stopped 
 for the night. Early in the following morning 
 he went on again, through the rich and beautiful 
 country which surrounds Clermont, amidst hills 
 and valiies, and brooks and fields, till he reached 
 that pretty town, which he seemed to know^ well, 
 for he stopped to speak to two or three acquaint- 
 ances. From more than one he seemed to hear 
 news that grieved him, for his countenance grew 
 sad; and he quickened his pace as he quitted 
 the town, hastening onwards by Fitzjames and 
 Argenlieu, where he turned from the high road, 
 and, following the course of the Arre, bent his 
 steps towards the small village and chateau of 
 Argencerre. When he was within about half a 
 mile, however, of the village church, he thought 
 he heard some mournful sounds coming up from 
 VOL. I. c 
 
18 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 the valley, and hurrying on towards the side of 
 the hill, he saw winding away from the chateau 
 towards the church the long line of a funeral. 
 Pierre gazed forward for a moment or two with 
 his hands clasped together; then, sitting down 
 upon the bank, he covered his eyes and wept. 
 Whatever was the cause of his emotion, the ob- 
 ject of his journey seemed to be accomplished ; 
 for, without proceeding any farther, he turned 
 back upon his path, and made the best of his 
 way to Paris. 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 19 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 It was the morning of the fourth day after 
 that which closed with the visit of the abbe to 
 the high chamber of the fihgree- worker ; and 
 Pierre Morin, with his good wife Margiette, 
 stood together in the middle of the same 
 chamber, the wife holding in her arms the 
 beautiful child we have mentioned, while the 
 husband was performing what appeared to be a 
 very barbarous operation. With one of the 
 small sharp-pointed knives which he employed 
 in his art, the man was tracing two or three 
 small fine lines on the baby's arm, very high up, 
 so as generally to be covered by the clothes in 
 which she was dressed. The child did not cry 
 or give any sign of pain, but smiled in the 
 man's face, although the next moment the lines 
 which he liad drawn, and which were at first 
 colourless, took the form of a Maltese cross, 
 c 2 
 
20 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 and became distinctly marked by a small por- 
 tion of blood oozing through each. As soon as 
 the artisan saw this appearance, he took up a 
 box filled with a black powder, and rubbed it 
 upon the spot. The application seemed to 
 make the wound smart, for the little girl now 
 began to cry ; but was soon pacified again, the 
 man kissing her affectionately, and saying, " It 
 is for thine own good, peiiotte. — Come, wife," 
 he continued, " cover that over, and let us 
 take her away. — Bless thy sweet eyes, child! it 
 may be long ere I see them again." 
 
 The wife took the child in her arms, the 
 man put on his hat, and away they went toge- 
 ther, threading the long and crowded streets 
 till they came into a more airy and pleasant 
 neighbourhood, where, passing along one of 
 the broad quays, they crossed the river by a 
 bridge, and approached the palace of the Lux- 
 embourg. In one of the best streets of that 
 quarter, they stopped before a fine tall house, 
 the door of which, however, was open, exposing 
 to» view the stone staircase within, which was 
 then — as is but too common in the French 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 21 
 
 capital even now — covered with filth of the most 
 disgusting description. Standing in the door- 
 way was a man who might be a tradesman, or 
 who might be the intendant of some gentle- 
 man ; and Pierre Morin, with a low bow and 
 humble tone, asked if the Abbe de Castelneau 
 lived there. 
 
 The man drew a little on one side, as if to 
 let them pass, replying, " Au second,'^ which 
 may be translated, " Up two pair.'* 
 
 He said no more, and with the same taci- 
 turnity Pierre Morin and Margiette began to 
 climb the long and dirty staircase which led to 
 the apartments of the Abbe de Castelneau. It 
 at once became evident to the filigree- worker 
 and his vvife, that the abbe was in what was 
 and is called " chamhres garnies^^ or furnished 
 apartments. Now such was a state of life 
 which, in that day, except under particular 
 circumstances, implied a much less degree of 
 respectability than that which was termed being 
 dans ses meubles, or in a house of one's own ; 
 for it generally happened, with all people of 
 station in the city, that they either had their 
 c 3 
 
22 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 own hotel, their own apartments and furni- 
 ture, or apartments lent to them by some of 
 their wealthier relations, who resided in those 
 large mansions which all the principal nobility 
 then maintained in Paris. Another thing, 
 also, was remarkable, which was, that a person 
 of the appearance and seeming wealth of the 
 Abbe de Castelneau should choose that quarter 
 of the city ; for, although the houses in the 
 neiarhbourhood of the Luxembouroj were far 
 better than in the vicinity of the Palais Royal, 
 yet fashion said that the latter were to be pre- 
 ferred ; and therefore two rooms and an ante- 
 chamber in the Rue St. Honore cost double 
 the sum of a mansion near the Luxembourg. 
 
 Nevertheless, Pierre Morin and his wife, 
 although the good artisan was aware of all 
 these particulars, marched steadily up the stairs, 
 and stopping at a door on the second floor, 
 knocked boldly for admission. A lackey in 
 a grey livery let them in, and with scarcely 
 a word of inquiry conducted them to the 
 presence of his master, who was seated, as was 
 the custom in those days, in his bedchamber. 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 23 
 
 When they entered the room, the abbe raised 
 his cahn quiet eyes towards them, without the 
 slightest expression either of pleasure or sur- 
 prise. 
 
 " Well, my friend," he said, " I learn your 
 determination from seeing the child ; but you 
 should have given me notice. I am not quite 
 prepared." 
 
 He advanced as he spoke, and caressed the 
 little girl, who seemed in no degree dismayed 
 by the face of the stranger ; but, on the con- 
 trary, laughed with infant glee at the sight of 
 his dazzling white teeth, which w^ere displayed 
 somewhat more than usual as he played with 
 the young being before him ; and, at length, 
 when he took her in his arms, though he held 
 her with no very dexterous hand, she showed no 
 sign of fear, but looked happy and contented. 
 The abbe smiled with a brighter expression 
 of countenance than usual, saying at the same 
 time, " Perhaps it may be so ! " 
 
 What he meant, neither Pierre Morin nor 
 his wife understood ; but there was much shrewd 
 common sense in the breast of the artisan ; and 
 c 4 
 
24 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 after suffering the abbe to amuse himself with 
 the child for a minute, he said, " We have 
 brought her here, sir, at your request, and 
 though we may grieve to part with her, we 
 will leave her to your care, upon one con- 
 dition." 
 
 " Ha ! " said the abbe — " a condition ! what 
 may that be ? " 
 
 " Only this, sir," answered Pierre Morin, 
 " that you shall promise me in writing to breed 
 her lip well and honourably, and to give her a 
 marriage-portion according to the state in which 
 you place her." 
 
 The abbe smiled with one of his cold calm 
 looks, and replied, " You are a philosopher, 
 my friend ; but what you ask is right and just, 
 and I will content you. Can you write ?" 
 
 " Oh yes, sir," replied the man : " I who 
 live in the garret can write better than some 
 that live lower," 
 
 " Well, then," answered the abbe, " go to 
 that table, and put down exactly what you wish 
 me to promise, while I talk to your wife about 
 what is needful for the child herself." 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 25 
 
 The artisan did as he was bid ; and the abbe 
 made many an inquiry of good Margiette, which 
 showed that he had thought much on all the 
 points connected with the new task he was 
 about to undertake. The clothing, the food, 
 the habits of the child were all investigated ; 
 and after speaking for some time to the arti- 
 san's wife, he called to his servant, and bade 
 him seek a person whom he called Donnine. 
 
 By the time he had given this order, the 
 filigree-worker had completed his task, and the 
 abbe read the paper he had drawn up with a 
 smile. " That v/ill scarcely do," he said, " but 
 I will put it in other language;" and he then 
 wrote down, '^ I, Ferdinand de Castelneau, 
 acknowledge having received from the hands 
 
 of Pierre Morin his daughter , for the 
 
 purpose of educating her as I would my own 
 child; and I promise him hereby to give her 
 as honourable and good an education, and as 
 ample a dowry when she marries, as if she 
 were in reality and truth my own daughter. — 
 What is her name?" demanded the abbe, when 
 he had concluded writing. 
 
26 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 " Annette, sir," replied the artisan, " An- 
 nette — her name is Annette." 
 
 The abbe then filled up the blank which had 
 been left in the paper, and handed it to Pierre 
 Morin, asking if it met his views. The artisan 
 read it carefully, and expressed himself satisfied ; 
 but added, " You will let us see her some- 
 times, sir ? " 
 
 " I will never refuse you when you apply," 
 replied the abbe ; " but, of course, your appli- 
 cations will not be too often. Your regard for 
 her will best show itself both in suffering me 
 to think of her as if she were my own child, 
 and in allowing her to think of me as if I were 
 her father." 
 
 As he spoke, the servant in grey entered 
 the room again, bringing with him an extremely 
 neat and respectable-looking woman, apparently 
 somewhat past her fiftieth year. The abbe 
 held up his finger to Pierre Morin, and made 
 a similar sign to his wife, saying, " Not a 
 word ! — This is the child I spoke of, Donnine. 
 Take her from this good woman : you are 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 27 
 
 hereafter her honne. Shew her all kindness, 
 and try to make her happy." 
 
 " Oh, that I will, right soon," replied the 
 good woman, who was a gay little withered 
 Picard. " I will make her happy enough. — 
 Come to me, my darling !" 
 
 Thus saying, she took the little girl from the 
 arms of poor Margiette, who kissed the child 
 again and again, and could not refrain from a 
 natural tear or two. The abbe then signed 
 the paper he had written, and gave it to the 
 artisan, whom he beckoned into the antecham- 
 ber with his wife, and then offered them some 
 money. The man put it away, however, with 
 the back of his hand, saying, in a tone of 
 indignation, " I do not sell the child, sir ! " 
 He then walked towards the door, paused for 
 a moment, called to his wife to come — for she 
 had lingered to say a word or two more — and 
 then left the abbe with his new charge. 
 
28 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 The scene which we liave just contemplated 
 took place on Monday the 20th of March, in 
 the year we have mentioned. As soon as the 
 filigree-worker and his wife had left the apart- 
 ment, the Abbe de Castelneau returned to the 
 room in which he had left the child with the 
 good woman Donnine. They both gazed into 
 the face of the child for a moment or two in 
 silence, and then the abbe inquired, " What 
 think you, Donnine ? " 
 
 *' I do not know what to think, my son," 
 replied the good nurse; " but I am sure what- 
 ever you do is right." However, lest there 
 should arise any doubt in the reader's mind as 
 to who Donnine was, from the fact of her 
 calling the abbe " my son," we shall proceed 
 to explain a little more of her histor}'. 
 
 In her very early youth Donnine had been 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 29 
 
 souhrette of the Abbe de Castelneau's mother, 
 and was really a good and excellent girl. The 
 lady, not long after her marriage into the family 
 of Castelneau, had promoted an union between 
 her pretty attendant Donnine and the old som- 
 melier, or butler, of her husband's elder brother, 
 the Count de Castelneau. The butler unad- 
 visedly left the family of his master, in the 
 hope of making a fortune in the good city of 
 Paris. Those were the days of the regency 
 and of mad speculations. The poor butler with 
 his little wealth got entangled with the finan- 
 ciers and gamblers of the capital, ruined him- 
 self and his family, and to avoid misery in one 
 world flew to meet the judgment of another. 
 Poor Donnine, left penniless, and with a pro- 
 spect of soon having another to support as 
 well as herself, sought out her former mistress 
 in the south, and was treated by Madame de 
 Castelneau with very great kindness, that lady 
 being then, like herself, on the very eve of 
 child-birth. The infi\nt to which Donnine gave 
 birth expired within a few hours after its eyes 
 had first opened upon the light of this world. 
 
30 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 while the son which was born to her mistress 
 proved strong and healthy ; and Donnine once 
 more entered the family in which she had 
 been first received as a servant, returning to it 
 in the humbler, though more important, post 
 of a wet-nurse. Thus the Abbe de Castelneau 
 was, in fact, her foster-son ; and whatever might 
 be his faults or errors, and they were, alas ! very 
 many, to her he had always shown undevi- 
 ating kindness, and in good fortune or evil 
 fortune — for very many vicissitudes had be- 
 fallen him — he had always retained Donnine in 
 his household, and had always attended to her 
 wants and wishes. 
 
 She, too, on her part, combined, in her re- 
 gard for her foster-son, all the affection of a 
 mother, and the admiration of an attached de- 
 pendant. She was by no means without good 
 sense, quickness, and activity of thought. On 
 all ordinary occasions she could judge of right 
 and wrong as acutely as any one ; but the mo- 
 ment the Abbe de Castelneau was interested, 
 a sort of film seemed to fall over her eyes, which 
 prevented her viewing objects in their natural 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 31 
 
 light, and every thing that he did seemed to 
 be excellent, admirable, and just. 
 
 The child very soon began to find that she 
 was in the hands of strangers, and that those 
 she loved had left her. A few tears were shed, 
 but she was speedily soothed ; and being of a 
 gay sweet disposition, with full health, and with 
 no corporeal irritation, the drops were ere long 
 dried again, and, laid upon the floor, she amused 
 herself for nearly an hour by clutching at a 
 cross and rosary which the abbe placed just 
 beyond her reach. It was a curious sight to 
 see, — the beautiful child thus engaged, and dis- 
 playing a thousand infant graces in her efforts 
 to reach the object before her, and the calm 
 thoughtful man, with his full grave eyes, watch- 
 ing her with a look of interest such as he 
 seldom displayed, and every now and then 
 bursting into unwonted laughter, as he drew 
 the rosary a little farther away, just at the 
 moment she was about to seize it. 
 
 During all this time, the child and the abbe 
 were left alone together ; for after a brief con- 
 sultation between him and Donnine, the nurse 
 
32 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 had gone forth to seek other and better cloth- 
 ing for the child, that which had been brought 
 by the filigree-worker's wife being somewhat 
 scanty in quantity, and very anomalous indeed 
 in quality. Some of the articles of her dress 
 were as coarse as it was possible to see ; but it is 
 to be remarked, that these were chiefly the out- 
 ward garments, for the inner ones were fine 
 and costly. 
 
 We must follow the good woman, however, 
 to the place where such objects as she then 
 wanted were to be found more readily than 
 any where else in the French capital. Strange 
 as it may seem, this was at the place of public 
 execution in the city of Paris, called the Place 
 de Greve ; but it must be remarked that no 
 legal slaughter was permitted to take place 
 there on Monday : and on that day was held, 
 every week, a general sort of fair, called the 
 Foire du Saint Esprit, where every article of 
 clothing — in general second-hand, but some- 
 times also new — was to be found spread out 
 for purchase, in the very spot where the bloody 
 arm of the law at other times exercised its 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 33 
 
 power. I cannot better describe this curious 
 scene than in the words of an author who lived 
 in those very days, and who, speaking of this 
 place, says, " There the wives of the lesser shop- 
 keepers, and other very economical women, go 
 to buy their caps, gowns, cassocks, and even 
 shoes, ready made. There, too, the informers 
 look out for the pickpockets and the inferior 
 sorts of thieves who come thither to sell the 
 handkerchiefs, napkins, and other things they 
 have stolen. These men are there apprehended, 
 as well as those who come to that place itself 
 with similar view^s of plunder ; for it would seem 
 that even that spot (the Place de Greve) is not 
 capable of inspiring them with any very pru- 
 dent reflections. One v/ould imagine that tliis 
 fan' was the feminine stripping" of a whole 
 province, or the pillage of a nation of Amazons. 
 Petticoats, bustles, dressing-gowns, are scattered 
 about in piles, from which one may choose 
 at leisure ; and here the robe of a president's 
 wife is bought by a procuress, and a grisette 
 puts on the cap of a marchioness's waiting- 
 woman. Here they absolutely dress themselves 
 
 VOL. T. D 
 
34 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 in public, and we shall soon see them chang- 
 ing their under garments in this place. The 
 buyer neither knows nor cares whence come 
 the stays for which she bargains ; and the most 
 innocent poor girl, even under her mother's 
 eye, puts on those in which, on the preceding 
 evening, danced the licentious woman of the 
 opera. Every thing seems purified by the sale, 
 or by the inventory taken after death ! As it 
 is women who buy here and women who sell, 
 the sharpness is pretty equal on both sides, and 
 one hears afar the contention of eager and 
 discordant voices. Viewed near, the scene is 
 more curious still ; for when women contemplate 
 female decorations, there is something very 
 peculiar to be seen in the physiognomy. In 
 the evening all this mass of goods and chattels 
 is carried away as if by enchantment, and there 
 remains not a rag. But this inexhaustible 
 magazine will reappear on Monday next, with- 
 out fail." 
 
 In the great republic of the Foire du Saint 
 Esprit, there were various grades and classes, 
 some stalls much superior and more aristocratic 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 35 
 
 than others, some who directed and some who 
 followed their guidance, as was the case of the 
 republic of ancient Rome, and with every other 
 republic that ever was or ever will be ; for, alack 
 and a well a day, what is the senator but the 
 peer ? — what consuls, dictators, presidents, but 
 kings — only that, as poor Ophelia has it, they 
 *' wear their rue with a difference?'* All things 
 must have their grades — all lands must see 
 some rule, and others obey — all people divide 
 themselves into those who follow, and those who 
 lead. It is but, in general, a difference of the 
 duration of command; and whether it be that 
 each individual holds his station by the month 
 or the year, or the seventy years, or only for 
 a day, as was the case in the Foire du Saint 
 Esprit, matters but little, surely, when life itself 
 is but an hour. It is wonderful what vast 
 changes we make in names, while realities con- 
 tinue the same. 
 
 To return, however, from such digression, 
 there were, as I have said, various classes 
 amongst the booths, and an aristocracy even 
 D 2 
 
36 THE ANCIENT EEGIME. 
 
 in the sellers of old clothes. It was to one 
 of the most dignified, then, of the sales- 
 women, who, with a cap as white as snow, a 
 gown of taffetas unsoiled, and not rufl^ed, 
 and beautiful dimity pockets pendant on either 
 side, that the good nurse Donnine addressed 
 herself for the purchase of all the little articles 
 of clothing which were required for the child 
 Annette. There was much chaffering and bar- 
 gaining; and the woman failed not to declare to 
 her customer that not one of the articles which 
 she sold her, had ever been worn by any one. 
 This thing had been made for the wife of a 
 counsellor, whose child had been still-born ; 
 that had been expressly ordered by the capri- 
 cious Marquise of , who, when she saw it, 
 
 changed her mind, and would not have it; the 
 other had been destined for the child of the 
 great banker, but had been found somewhat too 
 small. 
 
 " And that beautiful gown of brocade," said 
 Donnine, pointing to one which the saleswoman 
 kept near her, as if she were afraid of its touch- 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 37 
 
 ing any thing else — " what is the price of 
 that?" 
 
 " Ah ! my good woman," replied the other, 
 shaking her head, " that's for no one but the 
 mistress of a financier, or for one of our great 
 actresses to perform the part of Esther or 
 Judith in, I can warrant you. Why, I paid 
 three louis and a half for that gown this 
 morning. The femme-de-cliamlre told me that 
 it was made for Mademoiselle D'Argencerre 
 when she was going to be married to the young- 
 Count of Castelneau, the old count's son, you 
 know, and it has never been worn." 
 
 " Why, how did that fall out?" demanded 
 Donnine. 
 
 " Why, the two fathers quarrelled," said the 
 other, *' upon some old grudge; and the young 
 count was sent away to join the army on the 
 Rhine, and was killed but ten days after he 
 arrived." 
 
 " Well, for all that," said Donnine, " I would 
 not have sold my wedding gow^n if I had been 
 the lady." 
 
 D 3 
 
38 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 " Ay, but she took on and died," replied 
 the saleswoman ; " and the clothes then, of 
 course, fell to her maid." 
 
 To this last speech Donnine made no reply ; 
 but gathering up what she had bought into a 
 small bundle, she paid for the whole, and walked 
 away, but did not proceed immediately to the 
 house from which she had come. On the con- 
 trary, indeed, she turned her steps in a direc- 
 tion the most opposite, and, passing the Palais 
 Royal, took he* way through a street which has 
 since changed its name more than once. It 
 was then called the Rue de Boutteville ; and 
 about half way up was a large house, with a 
 man dressed in somewhat of a military costume, 
 but in clothes which denoted deep mourning, 
 standing under the arch of the jjorte cochere. 
 Over his shoulder he wore an immense, broad 
 belt, which was fringed with black, and in it 
 hung a peculiar sort of sword, only worn by 
 that class of people who acted the part of 
 porters at the doors of gentlemen's houses in 
 Paris, and were known by the name of Swiss, 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 39 
 
 let them come from what country they would. 
 In his hand, the person we have mentioned 
 — who was a portly man, with large limbs and 
 rounded stomach — bore a tall ebony staff of 
 great thickness, and with a gilded globe at the 
 top, which now, however, was covered with 
 black crape. As he saw Donnine approach, 
 his face relaxed from its solemnity into a half 
 smile, and he pulled off his cocked hat with 
 great politeness. 
 
 " Ah ! monsieur," said Donnine, pausing 
 for a moment near the door, " I have heard 
 the sad news ! So mademoiselle is dead, poor 
 thing!" 
 
 " Alas ! yes, madam," replied the Swiss, in 
 a tone of lamentation. " She was a sweet 
 young lady. We buried her yesterday morn- 
 ing, poor thing ! and a fine sight it was to see. 
 We came away directly after the funeral, for 
 my lord and my other young lady could not 
 bear the chateau afterwards. — But here come 
 some of the servants, and I must not be seen 
 speaking to any of your family, you know, 
 D 4 
 
40 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 however I may personally regret that such dis- 
 union should prevail." 
 
 With this solemn and courteous sentence, 
 the porter drew himself somewhat back ; and 
 Donnine, making him a courtesy, which he re- 
 turned by a profound bow, proceeded on her 
 wa}', and took the first turning that led to- 
 wards the Luxembourg. 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 41 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 We must now return for a short space of time 
 to our filigree-worker ; and, though we do not 
 trace step by step the progress of Pierre Morin 
 through the course of the day which com- 
 menced by his visit to the Abbe de Castehieau, 
 we may say that, to him, it was a day of bustle 
 and anxiety, that he was absent from his home 
 during the greater part of the morning, and 
 that consequently he had scarcely any time to 
 labour on the basket, in constructing which we 
 have seen him interrupted in the first chapter of 
 this work. At night he resumed his labours ; but, 
 as may be well supposed, all the fatigue he had 
 undergone during that day and those which pre- 
 ceded it, rendered repose absolutely necessary. 
 He grew dull and heavy : the fine working of the 
 silver required attention and care ; and, after 
 making several vain efforts to overcome the 
 
42 THE ANCIENT RjfeGIME. 
 
 sleepiness that had fallen upon him, he aban- 
 doned the task and went to bed. 
 
 On the following morning early, the filigree- 
 worker proceeded with quick steps to the house 
 of the Abbe de Castelneau. Every thing ex- 
 ternally bore the same appearance as the day 
 before. The door at the bottom of the stairs 
 was open ; and, without stopping to make any 
 inquiries at a small glass-covered apartment 
 shaded by a green curtain, behind which no 
 Parisian eye could doubt the person of a porter 
 was to be found, Pierre Morin ran up the stairs 
 with a quick step, but stood stupified when he 
 beheld a large board hung across the door of the 
 abbe's apartments, and, written thereon, the 
 significant intimation, " Chamhres garnies a 
 louer. Parlez au portierj'' * 
 
 Still Pierre Morin would not suffer himself 
 to be convinced that the abbe was actually 
 gone. He rang the bell that hung beside the 
 door of the apartment, and knocked once or 
 twice violently with his hand. No answer was 
 
 * Meaning, " Furnished apartments to let. Inquire 
 of the porter." 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 43 
 
 returned, unless it were the hollow echoes of his 
 own blows, which replied, plainly eno ugh, " Here 
 is nothing but emptiness." He then went down 
 and made application at the glass door we have 
 mentioned, demanding where was the Abbe de 
 Castelneau. The porter replied, dryly, that he 
 did not know : how should he ? 
 
 " Is he gone, then?" demanded the filigree- 
 worker. 
 
 " To be sure," answered the po rter : " he 
 went yesterday evening about three o'clock. 
 He only had the apartments for a week." 
 
 The face of Pierre Morin fell as he heard 
 this intelligence; and though by various ques- 
 tions he endeavoured to obtain farther inform- 
 ation, all that he could ascertain was, that the 
 abbe had apparently gone into the country, 
 having taken his departure in a chaise de poste, 
 the driver of which seemed to know in what 
 direction he was to turn his horses' heads with- 
 out being told. With this unsatisfactory intel- 
 ligence, the filigree-worker turned upon his 
 way ; but it was an hour or two after this 
 period ere he re-entered his own chamber. 
 
44 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 He there, however, held a long conference with 
 his wife as to all that had taken place, before 
 he proceeded to resume his work ; and yet 
 both seemed better satisfied than might have 
 been expected under such circumstances, doubt- 
 less trustino: that the child would be well taken 
 care of, though it had been removed in a some- 
 what strange and suspicious manner. The 
 labour on the basket was then recommenced, 
 and during this night Pierre Morin worked at 
 it without intermission. 
 
 It was about five o'clock in the morning 
 when he finished it ; and just as he was putting 
 the last concluding touch to the work, the roll- 
 ing sound of rapid wheels rushing into the 
 courtyard of the house, whose highest and most 
 miserable story the artisan tenanted, told that 
 some gay votary of pleasure and fashion was re- 
 turning, probably from scenes of vice as v/ell as 
 dissipation, at the hour when the children of 
 industry and want were rising from their hard 
 couch, to begin the heavy passing of a day of 
 toil. It was common in those times for many 
 of the best and most splendid mansions in Paris 
 
THE ANCIENT TxEGOIE. 45 
 
 to be divided amongst all the classes of society, 
 though the arrangement of the tenants, indeed, 
 "was very different from that v.hich existed in 
 the social world. Lowest of all, we are told, 
 except the rats and bottles that occupied the 
 cellars, generally lived the proprietor of tlie 
 house. He might be some avaricious or some 
 decayed nobleman, whose health, purse, or in- 
 clination rendered him unwilling to climb even a 
 single flight of stairs. Then came the gay, the 
 luxurious, the fashionable, the man of the court, 
 and of society, inhabiting the wide and lofty 
 rooms of the first floor. The entresol above gave 
 accommodation to the smart young secretary of 
 some public office, some foreign baron, or some 
 of the numerous counts and princes that swarm 
 in German and Italian courts. The second floor 
 received the respectable merchant or banker, who 
 had his offices and business in another part of 
 the city ; the widow lady, possessing affluence, 
 but not riches ; and all that numerous class, by 
 no means the least happy or the least estimable, 
 who are known by the name of very respect- 
 able iier sons. Above that, again, on the third, 
 
46 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 came the highest grade of men of letters, the 
 academician, the celebrated professor, the phi- 
 losopher in vogue, the great artist. On the 
 fourth — for there was a fourth, ay, reader, 
 and a fifth, and a sixth also — were people still 
 at ease, and possessing all the necessaries of life ; 
 but possessing them not only with the slight 
 inconvenience of daily climbing up long flights 
 of stairs, but often with the serious anxiety of 
 providing for children, for whom fortune had 
 assigned no fund but the labour of a parent. 
 Above these, again, came the poor artist, strug- 
 gling forward with zeal and industry to make 
 his merit known. The deep-thinking man of 
 science, the result of whose investigations made 
 or saved the fortunes of thousands, without 
 giving him a sou; the moralist, the teacher, 
 the man of letters, who disdained to pander to 
 the bad taste of a licentious public, or to em- 
 ploy the arts of the quack to gain fame, or 
 wealth, or honours. Above these, again, was 
 want, and misery, and destitution, the never- 
 ceasing toil of all the various artists and arti- 
 sans, the productions of whose hands orna- 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 47 
 
 men ted the palace, the church, and the saloon ; 
 such men, in short, as our filigree-worker, who 
 were brought too closely in contact with the 
 dwellings of wealth, luxury, and vice, not to 
 feel an additional pang, amidst all the miseries 
 of their own station, and to murmur at that 
 social arrangement which allotted to them the 
 whole of the dark side of life, and gave to 
 beings, often less worthy, all that was bright 
 and sunshiny. 
 
 The vices of the higher class of the Parisian 
 people, their intemperance, their debauchery, 
 their infidelity, their contemptible frivolity, were 
 all indulged, enacted, and displayed, under the 
 very same roofs, where dwelt misery, penury, 
 and labour — and yet they wondered that there 
 came a revolution ! 
 
 Oh ! would but man remember that he is 
 but a steward of all that he possesses ; that his 
 wealth, his honours, his talents, his genius, his 
 influence, are all merely lent to him by the 
 one great Possessor, not alone for his indi- 
 vidual benefit, but for the benefit of the 
 whole ; — would he but remember this, such 
 
48 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 terrible accounts of the stewardship would not 
 be taken as are often demanded on this earth 
 by agents that seem little likely to be intrusted 
 with such a commission ; and the after-reckon- 
 ing, too, might be looked for in peace, knowing 
 that it is to be rendered to a mild and merciful 
 Lord. 
 
 The filigree-worker cast himself down upon 
 his bed, saying with a smile, " Others have 
 come home to sleep, why should I not rest 
 also ? '* But though he did take a few hours* 
 repose, he was up and away long before the 
 ftvered gamester, whose wheels he had heard, 
 entertained any thought of stirring from his 
 restless couch. 
 
 The part of the world, however, towards 
 which Pierre Morin now bent his steps, was all 
 busy and stirring with a multitude of people, 
 some animated alone by the hope of gaining 
 that honest daily bread which in those days 
 Avas with very great difficulty acquired by the 
 lower orders of the Parisian people, but many 
 others instigated by the dark spirit of that most 
 degrading of all demons, Mammon, to rob the 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 49 
 
 rich of their wealth, and the poor of their 
 labour. 
 
 Not far from the great church of Notre 
 Dame, somewhat behind it, but still a little to 
 the right of that building, is a narrow street 
 which has suffered little variation, except inas- 
 much as the shops, with which it was filled at 
 the time I speak of, are now very much fewer 
 in number than they then were, and are almost 
 entirely devoted to the sale of such ornaments 
 and utensils as are generally appropriated to 
 the church. Sacramental cups and salvers, 
 crosses of all kinds, even the pastoral crook of 
 the bishop, and the pix itself, are still there 
 displayed ; but at the period of my story, every 
 article worked in gold or silver was there to be 
 found; and multitudes of trinkets of all kinds 
 w^ere ranged in the shop-windows, all along a 
 street, every house of which was then the pro- 
 perty of a goldsmith or a jeweller. At the 
 corner of this street, in the best and largest shop 
 that it contained, where one might just catch a 
 view of solemn Notre Dame, rising blue and 
 airy over the neighbouring houses, might be seen 
 
 VOL. I. E 
 
50 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 daily old Gaultier Fiteau, the famous jeweller, 
 goldsmith, and money changer. He was noto- 
 rious for wealth, avarice, unscrupulous roguery, 
 and the most delicate and tasteful goldsmith's 
 work in Paris. He was of a harsh and a 
 sour disposition, also, to all who came under 
 his rod, pitiless to the poor, but submissive 
 with the rich, and grasping and eager with 
 all men. He was capricious, too, and would 
 sometimes do a good action as if merely for 
 a change ; and the only permanent habit which 
 bore the appearance of virtue in him was that 
 of occasionally endeavouring to interest the 
 rich in favour of the poor, and thus, as it 
 were, to give alms by deputy. It was re- 
 ported, however, that it was dangerous to trust 
 Monsieur Fiteau with any donation for another, 
 there being a certain oblivious power in his 
 brain, which made him forget to give away 
 any thing that he had once received, and, even 
 when reminded of it, enabled him not to recol- 
 lect the exact amount. 
 
 It was to his shop, then, that Pierre Morin 
 now hastened, bearing the basket which he 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 51 
 
 had completed during the preceding night. 
 The little shrivelled old man, the ugliness of 
 whose countenance was only increased by an im- 
 mense bear-skin cap, received the poor filigree- 
 worker with an angry and malevolent scowl. 
 Much was the abuse he poured on the head of 
 the artisan, for the time which he had occupied 
 in producing the basket. He called him an idle 
 and good-for-nothing fellow ; declared that he 
 would be brought to beggary by his laziness ; 
 and dwelt upon the idea of good Pierre Morin 
 being reduced to utter starvation with the tone 
 and manner of one who would receive from 
 such a sight the utmost glee and satisfaction. 
 
 Pierre, who had a large fund of good humour, 
 bore all that the goldsmith said with the most 
 perfect calmness and tranquillity ; but when 
 Fiteau asked him, or rather commanded him, 
 to produce another basket exactly similar to 
 the one he brought, in the space of three days, 
 the good artisan, remembering his promise to 
 the Abbe de Castelneau, and that he had re- 
 ceived some part of the money in advance, de- 
 clared that he could not do it, assigning the 
 E 2 
 
 U, OF ILL LIB. 
 
52 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 true reason, that he had such another trinket to 
 finish for a gentleman who had bespoke it. 
 
 This reply enraged the goldsmith to the 
 highest possible degree, not so much because 
 he wanted the basket soon, as because he was 
 made indignant and apprehensive by the very 
 thought of a mere artisan getting any larger 
 share of profit than he chose to assign. He 
 stormed, he raved, he grinned, and he declared 
 that unless Pierre abandoned the work alto- 
 gether, he would never employ him again, even 
 if he were starving. 
 
 Pierre remained firm, however, and thus they 
 parted, the artisan resolving to do nothing else 
 till he had prepared the basket for the abbe, 
 in case it should be required. The abbe did 
 not appear, however, and the basket remained 
 on the filigree-worker's hands. Nevertheless, 
 though it seems strange to say, he contrived to 
 support himself well for nearly a month, with- 
 out having recourse to Monsieur Fiteau ; but 
 the secret was this, that the nobleman on whose 
 estates he was born, and who, seeing him a 
 clever and intelligent youth, had paid the ex- 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 53 
 
 penses of his education, and enabled him lo 
 learn the trade at which he now laboured, 
 chanced to be at Paris about this time; and 
 Pierre having presented himself at his patron's 
 house, though he never mentioned or even 
 hinted at his poverty either to the gentleman 
 himself or his only surviving daughter, received 
 from each of them a present, which enabled 
 him and his wife to live for the timxC we have 
 stated with all the careless gaiety of French 
 peasants, enjoying the sunshine of the present 
 hour to the very full, and not giving even a 
 thought to the clouds of to-morrow. At the 
 end of the month, however, poverty began daily 
 to present herself under her most painful aspect; 
 and the filigree-worker, had he been one of 
 those Avho are inclined frequently to ask for 
 assistance, which indeed he was not, could not 
 have obtained it in the same quarter, for the 
 nobleman who had befriended him, and his 
 daughter, had left Paris for a distant part of 
 France ten days before. 
 
 He sat, then, one evening in April, fireless, 
 supperless, and penniless; and after first gazing 
 E 3 
 
54 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 in his wife's face with a melancholy look for 
 some time, and then down upon the uncovered 
 table, he started up, exclaiming in a gay tone, 
 " Diable ! I will go to old Fiteau ! " 
 
 Margiette did not try to dissuade him, though 
 she very much feared that his application would 
 prove vain; and, tossing on his hat with a light 
 step, the buoyancy of which no poverty could 
 take away, good Pierre Morin proceeded rapidly 
 to the shop of Fiteau, which he feared might 
 be closed before he arrived. 
 
 He found the usurious old goldsmith bustling 
 about in his shop, putting away this article and 
 that, and winding up all his affairs for the 
 night. One half of the shop, which looked 
 towards Notre Dame, was closed, and the other 
 partly so, though two or three of the heavy 
 iron-bound shutters were still down, in order 
 that the nice calculator of expenses might not 
 be obliged to light his lamp so long as there 
 was one ray of light left in the sky. A boy of 
 about fourteen years of age, the only assistant 
 of any kind that he kept, and who served for 
 clerk, shopman, porter, and every thing else, 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 55 
 
 was aiding his master to the best of his abilities, 
 while a low irritable growl on the part of Fiteau 
 showed that the lad's most zealous exertions 
 were not successful in satisfying his master. 
 
 As soon as Pierre Morin entered the shop, 
 Fiteau began upon him in a sharp tone, ex- 
 claiming, " Ah ! you idle scapegrace, I thought 
 you would soon make your appearance again, 
 expecting me to employ and assist you, when 1 
 have lost more money by your laziness than 
 enough. Here, if you had been working for 
 me, you might have gained half a louis between 
 this time and twelve to-morrow. Here is a 
 gold filigree bracelet to be made for the old 
 Marquise de Pompignan, who goes to Ver- 
 sailles at one o'clock to-morrow, and will not 
 wait a minute." 
 
 '' Well, give me the wire," said Pierre Morin, 
 " and I will do it before then. It is a mere 
 nothing to work a bracelet: there is not half 
 the labour in it that there is in a basket, such 
 as I wrought last." 
 
 " I will not trust you, I will not trust you," 
 replied the goldsmith, "you good-for-nothing 
 E 4 
 
56 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 fellow. I am just going to send the boy to your 
 companion Launoy, to tell him to come hither 
 and do it. I will not trust you either with the 
 gold or in regard to the time." 
 
 The assertion in regard to Launoy, indeed, 
 ■was altogether false ; for that workman had 
 not quitted the shop ten minutes before, loaded 
 with more work than he could possibly accom- 
 plish in the time allowed him. All the other 
 workmen usually employed by old Fiteau were 
 also fully occupied; and the thought of losing 
 the order for the bracelet had been lying very 
 heavy at the old miser's heart, when the ap- 
 pearance of Pierre Morin had given him a 
 hope of seeing the work accomplished. Knovv'- 
 ing, however, that the good lady for whom it 
 was intended was of a tenacious and irritable 
 disposition, he determined to find some means 
 of guarding against any sort of idleness on the 
 part of the filigree- worker, and he consequently 
 took good care not to show his satisfaction at 
 seeing him again, but continued to abuse him 
 as bitterly as ever. 
 
 " I do not want to take the work from 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 57 
 
 Launoy," said Pierre Morin, " if he wants 
 it.'' 
 
 " Oh, no, no," interrupted the old goldsmith, 
 fearful of overacting his part — " he does not 
 want it : he has plenty of work every day in 
 the week ; but it is, that I cannot and will not 
 
 trust to you, you idle vagabond But come, 
 
 I will tell you what I will do," he continued 
 after a moment's pause. " Out of pure com- 
 passion, and for no other reason in the world, I 
 will give you the work, if you will stay here 
 and do it, and never go out of the little work- 
 room there, till it is done." 
 
 " And I am to have half a louis when it is 
 done," said the filigree-worker. " Is that to be 
 the bargain ?" 
 
 " Nay, nay, I said eight livres," replied the 
 goldsmith : " half a louis is too much." 
 
 " Not a whit for gold work," said the fili- 
 gree-worker, who began to perceive that old 
 Fiteau was somewhat more eager in the busi- 
 ness than he pretended to be. " I will have 
 that, or I will go elsewhere. It was what you 
 offered at first. Master Fiteau." 
 
.jS the ancient regime. 
 
 " Well, well, you shall have it," replied the 
 usurer. " Get you in, get you in, and I will 
 lock the door upon you to guard you against 
 your own bad inclinations — keep you out of 
 temptation. — Ha, ha, ha ! " 
 
 '' Why, you do not suppose that I would steal 
 all these thi ngs of yours, if you left me here all 
 night?" demanded Pierre Morin, pointing to 
 the jewellery scattered round. 
 
 " I don't know, I don't know," answered the 
 goldsmith. " Pretty things to look at, Master 
 Morin — very tempting things — very tempting. 
 I do not know that I might not steal them my- 
 self, if they were not my own. — Safe bind safe 
 find, Master Morin — safe bind safe find. I 
 never leave any one in my shop when I am out 
 of it. Here is an ounce of wire, and half a 
 pennyweight of Venice gold — but where is the 
 blow-pipe ? Oh, here it is in this drawer : the 
 rest of the tools you will find there, and a lamp; 
 there is some charcoal, too, and some cruci- 
 bles." 
 
 Pierre Morin listened with a quiet smile till 
 the old man had done ; he then answered, how- 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 59 
 
 ever, " All very good, Master Fiteaii ; but I 
 must go home and tell my wife before I begin. 
 Why, she would be looking for me in the 
 Morne * to-morrow morning." 
 
 " Nonsense, nonsense," replied the gold- 
 smith : *' do you pretend to say that you never 
 stay out at night without her knowing where 
 you are?" 
 
 " Never, upon my life," replied Pierre Mo- 
 rin ; " never since we were married to this 
 hour, and that is six years ago, come the Sa- 
 turday before Martinmas. I promised her I 
 never would, and I always keep my word. 
 Master Fiteau." 
 
 " Except when you have work in hand, 
 scapegrace," cried the miser, with a laugh. 
 " But get you in, get you in. I will send the 
 
 * The place now called the Morgue was known by 
 this more appropriate name in those days. It may be 
 as well to state, for the benefit of persons not thoroughly 
 acquainted with the topography of Paris, that it is the 
 place where are exposed the corpses of unknown persons 
 found dead, in order that they may be identified by their 
 friends and relations. The writer of these pages has 
 been in it several times, and seldom found it untenanted. 
 
60 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 boy to tell your wife where you are. He has 
 some twenty errands to do in the town, and 
 has got to take up a crucifix and two rosaries 
 to a house in the Rue Montmartre, so that he 
 goes by your door." 
 
 "Then you must send her a livre to get her 
 some supper, Master Fiteau," said the filigree- 
 worker : ''she will want some comfort if I am 
 not there." 
 
 It was with considerable difficulty that Mon- 
 sieur Fiteau was induced to agree to this part 
 of the bargain ; but Pierre Morin saw that he 
 had the advantage of his avaricious employer, 
 and he would not go into his place of labour 
 till he had seen the old goldsmith give the 
 livre into the hands of the boy, and had made 
 the boy promise to deliver it the first thing, 
 assuring him that he would skin him alive if 
 he did not keep his word. He then whistled 
 a few bars of the last song which had been 
 produced upon the Pont Neuf — my French 
 readers will understand what I mean — and 
 walked before the goldsmith, through a little 
 back parlour, where Fiteau took his meals 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 61 
 
 during the day, (for he slept in another part 
 of the town, and possessed no portion of this 
 house but the ground-floor,) into a small con- 
 fined workshop, where was a little furnace 
 well supplied with crucibles, and a table covered 
 with various lamps and manifold kinds of tools. 
 There was some little dispute between Fiteau 
 and his workman as to the quantity of oil and 
 coal that was necessary ; but this being settled, 
 Pierre Morin addressed himself seriously to his 
 work, and Fiteau, creeping out of the room 
 with his usual quiet and stealthy pace, was 
 heard to lock the door behind him, as if he 
 had been the gaoler of a prison. 
 
 Pierre Morin went on with the bracelet ; but 
 presently finding the room too hot, he jumped 
 upon a table and opened a small high window 
 of about a foot square. He then returned to 
 his work ; and with the happy art of abstracting 
 his thoughts from all subjects but that which 
 was immediately before him, he gave himself 
 up to the enjoyment which always proceeds 
 from the practice of an art in which we are 
 skilful, and for which we have a taste. 
 
62 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 He was thus deep in the admiration of all 
 the lines and figures he was working in the 
 gold wire, when a sound struck his ear which 
 made him pause for a moment. He resumed his 
 work instantly, for he knew there was no time 
 to spare, but he had scarcely taken another 
 turn when he again listened — started up with 
 a look of surprise and horror — looked to the 
 door — recollected it was fastened — gazed up 
 to the window — saw that it was barred — and 
 then, seizing one of the instruments from the 
 table, darted quickly to the other side of the 
 room and put his hand on the lock. 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 63 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 Let the reader call to mind the description 
 which we have given of the premises occupied 
 by the goldsmith. There was the outer shop, 
 with a long counter on either side, and a narrow 
 passage between these two : behind that again 
 was the inner shop, or little parlour, and from 
 it, through a small door, one entered the work- 
 shop, into which Gaultier Fiteau had locked 
 the filigree- worker. All these rooms, except 
 the shop, had windows so strongly barred that 
 no human power could find the way in or out, 
 except by the legitimate entrance; and the 
 shop itself, open during the day, was secured at 
 night by shutters covered with plates of iron. 
 It may be remembered, that when Fiteau shut 
 up the filigree- worker in the inner room, these 
 shutters were principally closed. Two or three, 
 however, were still down at that time; and 
 before the goldsmith suffered his boy to depart 
 
64 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 upon the numerous errands he had to perform, 
 he made him aid in putting up these cumbrous 
 defences, and fastened them tightly on the inside. 
 The door of the shop did not bear the dignified 
 decoration of plate glass, or any of those ap- 
 pearances by which shop-doors at present are 
 distinguished from other doors, but was made 
 of solid oak, studded and bound with iron, like 
 the doors of a prison ; and strong must have 
 been the hand, or cunning the device, which 
 got it open when once it was closed. 
 
 As soon as the goldsmith had seen the shut- 
 ters completely up, he found his way, by the 
 faint light which came in through the still open 
 door, to some small sparks of fire that were 
 glimmering on the hearth in the other room ; 
 and, lighting a lamp, gathered together all the 
 various articles which the boy was to carry to 
 their several destinations, put them into a 
 closely covered basket, hung it on the lad's arm, 
 and despatched him on his way, while he him- 
 self bustled about his counters and drawers, 
 placing every thing in order, and all under lock 
 and key. 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 65 
 
 When the boy issued forth into the street, 
 knowing well the goldsmith's habits and cha- 
 racter, he took care to close with scrupulous 
 exactness the door of the shop behind him, and 
 then, safe from watchful eyes, he paused, looking 
 round him on all sides, and enjoying the first 
 moment of idle relaxation and freedom from 
 the sharp superintendence of a careful and 
 somewhat scolding master. 
 
 It was the twilight of an April evening : 
 there was a calm bluish shade in the air which 
 spoke of repose and peace ; the busy labours of 
 the Parisian world were all over; and as the 
 boy looked up the street and down the street, 
 calculating which would be the best and most 
 amusing way to go — though in fact there was 
 little difference between them — he beheld not 
 a creature either to the right hand or to the 
 left, and heard not a sound but distant murmurs 
 from other parts of the city, and the clock of 
 Notre Dame striking seven. The momentary 
 pause which he made, however, brought a 
 group of three people into the street on the 
 
 VOL. I. F 
 
66 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 left hand; and although there could be very 
 little matter in their appearance to excite the 
 lad's curiosity, yet he turned in that direction 
 as soon as he saw them, and must have passed 
 close by them, had they not slowly crossed over 
 the way in earnest conversation as they came 
 near. The shadiness of the street, and the 
 dark hue of the evening hour, prevented the 
 boy from seeing as clearly who or what they 
 were as he could have wished to do ; for he 
 was naturally of an inquiring disposition. One 
 thing he did remark, that they seemed to be 
 three gentlemen of good mien and apparel; 
 and, after giving them a steady and inquisitive 
 glance, the boy passed on. He stopped at the 
 nearest corner, however, to look back ; but after 
 a moment's halt went forward again, and soon 
 reached the more thronged and gayer part of 
 Paris, where, by pausing to gaze at every thing 
 that attracted his attention, stopping to talk 
 with this person and with that, and employing 
 with considerable success all those means which 
 boys about his age generally use for getting rid 
 ot the great adversary. Time, he contrived to 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 67 
 
 loiter away the moments till half-past nine 
 o'clock of the same night. 
 
 In the mean time, old Fiteau soon brought 
 the work of arrangement to a conclusion, and 
 only remained in the shop to sum up, with 
 his usual care, the loss and gain of the day, 
 which he generally did upon a slate every 
 evening, copying it into a large vellum- 
 covered book the first thing on the following 
 morning. This night, however, he was sud- 
 denly interrupted in the midst of his calcu- 
 lation by a noise, as if some one laid his hand 
 on the lock of the outer door. The moment 
 he heard it, the old man took a step forward 
 from the other side of the shop with an eager 
 look and trembling limbs, intending either to 
 lock or bolt the door. But before he could 
 effect that purpose, the entrance of the blue 
 twilight showed him that it was too late. The 
 appearance of a face that he knew the moineoL 
 after, relieved his anxiety and apprelu nsion, 
 although the surprise and alarm v/hich he had 
 at first felt left his heart beating, and his hand 
 still shaking. 
 
 F 2 
 
68 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 " All ! monsieur le chevalier," he exclaimed, 
 addressing the personage who entered, and who 
 was a tall powerful man, with a pale, worn, and 
 somewhat sinister countenance, — " you sur- 
 prised and startled me. Did you not know 
 I never do any business after my door is shut ? 
 Did the boy tell you I had not gone home ? " 
 
 '« No, indeed," replied the chevaliei', who 
 had been followed into the shop by another 
 person somewhat less in size, but equally power- 
 ful in frame. " We did not see your boy. If 
 he be out, I suppose you have no one who 
 could carry something home for me were I to 
 buy it?" 
 
 " Not I, not I," replied the goldsmith some- 
 what impatiently. " Good evening, count," 
 he added, bowing low to the other ; and then 
 resuming his reply, he said, " I have no one 
 to send till to-morrow — besides, I never sell 
 by lamp-light, and it is time for me to go 
 home." 
 
 " If you never sell, do you buy, my dear 
 Fiteau ? " said the man whom he had called 
 count, coming forward with a dull, unpleasant 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 69 
 
 smile, which had far more of sneering contempt 
 in it than either courtesy or kindness. 
 
 " No, no," replied Fiteau, " I neither buy 
 nor sell at this time of night. Come, gentle- 
 men, I must go home — I will talk to you by the 
 way," and he moved a little towards the door. 
 But the other two remained still in the way, 
 and the one called by Fiteau the count re- 
 plied with the same cold smile, " No, no, my 
 dear Fiteau, you must not go home till you 
 have done what I want. I am hard pressed for 
 a little money to-night, and you must give me 
 a hundred louis for this snuff-box. You know it 
 well, and the diamonds upon it. If the cards 
 are lucky to-night, I will take it back from you 
 to-morrow, and pay you twenty louis to boot." 
 
 " I declare," cried Fiteau, at the first im- 
 pulse, " I have not a hundred louis in the place." 
 But the moment he had said it he repented ; 
 for there was a sort of haggard and ominous 
 expression about the countenances of his two 
 companions which gave him some vague alarm in 
 regard to the consequences of offending them ; 
 F 3 
 
70 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 and he likewise knew that the snuff-box was 
 worth much more than the sum required. 
 
 " That is a lie, Fiteau," answered the count, 
 the moment the other spoke ; " for you know 
 that you made the Abbe de Castelneau pay you 
 five hundred louis not three hours since, whether 
 he would or not, and well nigh ruined him, poor 
 fellow." 
 
 '' I have paid money since, I have paid money 
 since," exclaimed Fiteau : " it was to discharge 
 my own debts I made him pay his : — why did 
 he change his lodging and hide himself?" 
 
 As he spoke, Fiteau remarked the eyes of his 
 two visiters turn towards each other, with a look 
 that he did not at all like ; and after a moment's 
 pause, he added, " Well, well, I will see what 
 I have got, I will see what I have got. I may 
 have some ninety louis, if that will do. Let me 
 have the box. The money is in that next room." 
 
 The count gave him the box, and the old man 
 turned with a hasty step towards the little par- 
 lour, feeling, if the truth must be told, not for 
 the key of the chest in which his money was kept, 
 but for the key of the room, in which Pierre 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 71 
 
 Morin was at work. The moment he passed on 
 thither, the two men who had entered his shop 
 spoke a few rapid words to each other ; the one 
 saying, in a low tone, " Now, chevalier !" and 
 the other replying, " No, you, you ! — I will 
 do the rest ! " 
 
 " Shut the door, then !" cried the count ; and, 
 before the poor old goldsmith could reach the 
 entrance of the workshop where Pierre Morin 
 was locked in, a strong arm was thrown round 
 him, a hand put over his mouth, the outer 
 door of the shop closed, and the second villain 
 was also upon him. 
 
 There is strength even in despair : the old 
 man dropped the lamp which he carried, and 
 which was instantly extinguished, got his mouth 
 free for a moment, and gave a loud cry for help. 
 Then finding that he could not liberate himself 
 from the arm that held him, by a straightforward 
 effort he slipped down in spite of that strong 
 grasp, avoiding a blow that was aimed at his 
 head by one of the assassins, which hit the other 
 on the breast, and made him still farther relax 
 his hold. All was now darkness, and, under 
 F 4 
 
72 THE ANCIENT IlEGIiAIE. 
 
 cover thereof, the wretched old man strove to 
 escape to the street door, but he was instantly 
 caught again. Then came the terrible struggle 
 for life or death, the writhing, the striving, the 
 loud and agonised cry, the dull muttered curse, 
 the faint groan, the gasp of anguish and destruc- 
 tion. Both the assassins were upon the ground 
 bending over him, so eager in the terrible deed 
 they were performing, that they knew nothing, 
 heard nothing, but the sounds created by them- 
 selves and their victim. Scarcely, however, had 
 the last faint cry passed from the lips of the 
 miserable man, when a sudden light burst into 
 the room, and one of the murderers instinctively 
 started up. Before he was prepared to resist, 
 however, or to act in any way, a tall powerful 
 man was upon him, and he was struck to the 
 ground by the blow of a hammer. The che- 
 valier was upon his feet in a moment, as soon 
 as he saw his companion fall ; and, dropping the 
 knife, which was wet with the heart's blood ot 
 poor Fiteau, he drew his sword upon Pierre 
 Morin, while the count struggled up again upon 
 his knee. The artisan, unarmed and over- 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 73 
 
 matched, darted past them ; but he would not 
 have escaped unhurt, had not the assassin, in 
 lunging at him, stumbled over the prostrate body 
 of the murdered man and fallen, dyeing himself 
 in the gore with which the floor was covered. 
 
 Seizing the opportunity, Pierre Morin 
 darted into the outer shop, banged-to the door 
 which separated it from the little parlour or 
 counting-house ; and, though one of the villains 
 pulled strongly from the inside, he succeeded, 
 by a great effort, in keeping it closed with his 
 left hand, till he had turned the key in the lock 
 wdth his right. 
 
 When this was done, the good artisan put his 
 hand to his brow to collect his bewildered 
 thoughts, and then felt his way, with his brain 
 whirling and his breast oppressed, to the door 
 of the shop, which he opened, and went out 
 into the air. 
 
 The moment that he stood beyond the thresh- 
 old, a man wrapped in a dark cloak appeared 
 beside him, demanding eagerly, " What was 
 that cry ? Was the old man there ? You have 
 not killed him V Scarcely were the words 
 
74 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 Uttered, when he seemed suddenly to perceive 
 that he was speaking to a stranger, and darted 
 away at full speed. 
 
 Pierre Morin stooped to pick something up 
 from off the ground, and then instantly gave 
 the alarm, shouting loudly for aid, and ringing 
 all the bells of the houses round. A crowd 
 was soon gathered; men and women, porters, 
 lackeys, gentlemen, and merchants, poured 
 forth from their houses, and listened with won- 
 derhig ears to the tale of the artisan. 
 
 The shop of poor Gaultier Fiteau was sur- 
 rounded by the crowd, and the lieutenant- 
 general of police was sent for ; but till he came, 
 Pierre Morin could not prevail upon any one 
 to enter the house, although he represented to 
 the multitude that the old jeweller might not 
 yet be dead : such was the feehng of awe which 
 the population of Paris entertained at that time 
 towards the police. Very speedily, however, 
 the lieutenant-general appeared in person with 
 manifold officers and flambeaux, and having 
 heard the stoiy of the artisan, he spoke a word 
 or two to one of the persons who accompanied 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 75 
 
 him, and proceeded with his own hand to open 
 the door of the house. A pause took place 
 while the lieutenant, taking a torch in his hand, 
 looked in, but all was vacant and as silent as 
 the grave. The chief officer of police then ad- 
 vanced between the two counters, followed by 
 the rest, without a word being said. He stopped 
 a moment to gaze at a small dark stream of 
 blood, which found its way out from underneath 
 the door between the shop and the parlour, and 
 muttered to himself, " Here is evidence of the 
 deed." 
 
 He then unlocked the door and threw it 
 open. The moment he did so, however, two 
 men burst forth, and made a violent effort to 
 break through. The lieutenant-general of 
 police himself was knocked down, and some of 
 those behind him recoiled. But the moment 
 the count and the chevalier saw the exempts, 
 their courage seemed to abandon them, and 
 they were taken in a moment. On examining 
 the room, it was found that the unfortunate 
 goldsmith was quite dead; and — whether it was 
 that the two men, supposing any persons who 
 
76 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 came to apprehend them would be without b'ghts, 
 fancied they might escape better in the dark- 
 ness, or whether, as some people imagined, the 
 sight of their own deed was too horrible for them 
 to bear — it is certain that they had put out 
 the lamp which Pierre Morin had left lighted 
 in the workshop, and had thus remained for a 
 considerable length of time, it would appear, in 
 the midst of darkness, with the body of him 
 they had killed lying close beside them. 
 
 What had been their sensations ? — what 
 had been their thoughts during the interval? — 
 Nobody has ever known ; but it is evident that 
 they had conferred together as soon as they 
 had found that it was impossible to escape from 
 the scene of their crime, and had arranged the 
 story they were to tell, or rather the account 
 they were to give of the event which had taken 
 place. 
 
 As soon as the lieutenant-general of police 
 had raised himself from the ground, on which 
 he had been cast by the furious rush of the 
 two criminals, he ordered them to be removed 
 and kept separate ; and at the same time, after 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 77 
 
 speaking a few words to one of his exempts, 
 he nodded to Pierre Morin, saying, " I will 
 talk with you farther, presently." 
 
 The good artisan was somewhat surprised to 
 find the exempt take him by the arm and lead 
 him away from the scene in which he thought 
 that the information he had to give might be 
 most particularly required. He was still more 
 surprised, however, to find that he was to be 
 carried to the house of the lieutenant, and shut 
 up in a room by himself, with very little differ- 
 ence between him and the criminals against 
 whom he was to bear witness. 
 
 The room in which he was placed, indeed, 
 contained a bed ; and for that luxury poor 
 Pierre Morin would have been even more 
 grateful than he was, if he had been tho- 
 roughly acquainted with all the transactions 
 which, from time to time, took place in Paris 
 under the paternal care of the police of the 
 French metropolis. 
 
78 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 The mind of the good filigree- worker was not 
 one to be impressed easily with feelings of ap- 
 prehension. He thought it very strange and 
 very disagreeable that he v/ho had given the 
 first alarm, who had aided with such effect to 
 seize the murderers, who was the only living 
 witness, in fact, of the crime, should thus be 
 detained in solitude, with the key of the door 
 turned upon him. 
 
 With natural lightness of heart, however, he 
 soon forgot the small evils of his situation ; and 
 after revolving for some time all the horrible 
 images which the scenes of that night had 
 presented to his eyes, he exclaimed " Peste 1 " 
 three times, and having thus satisfied the god- 
 dess of wonder, he cast himself down rt^jon the 
 bed, and fell sound asleep. He was still quietly 
 and happily slumbering, when the morning 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 79 
 
 light began to shine through the high window, 
 and one of the agents of the police, entering 
 without being heard, gazed at the sleeping ar- 
 tisan for a minute or two, as if to read on his 
 countenance the secrets that might be in his 
 bosom. 
 
 Nor is it at all improbable that such was 
 really his intention, for every thing in that day 
 was a matter of espionage throughout the whole 
 city of Paris. The very thoughts of men were 
 subjects of minute investigation by the govern- 
 ment; and it was supposed that all things could 
 be performed by the cunning inquisition of the 
 police into the actions, ideas, and feelings of 
 the citizens. Not the judge upon the bench — 
 not the minister in his cabinet — not the pri- 
 soner in his dungeon — not the profligate in 
 the lowest resorts of vice and iniquity — was 
 without a spy nearer to him than he imagined, 
 marking all and sometimes revealing all. In 
 such circumstances, it may appear that no evil 
 could be committed, no crime take place, un- 
 punished; but yet both occurred every day* 
 The mass of wickedness, vice, and folly, was 
 
80 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 perhaps greater than at any other period, and 
 in proportion very few offences were brought 
 under the eye of the law. ' 
 
 Two causes combined to produce this effect. 
 In the first place, with an active and clever 
 nation, art naturally met art; and, in the space 
 of fifty or sixty years, the police had actually 
 drilled and trained the people to outwit them 
 on very many occasions. It might be perfectly 
 well known to the lieutenant-general, that such 
 and such a priest or abbe had been in this 
 or that abode of licentiousness, and yet the 
 lieutenant might have no idea of what criminal 
 or treasonable meeting he had been at half an 
 hour before or afterwards. In the next place, 
 the honourable society of moucJiards, as the 
 spies were called in France, had its own par- 
 ticular rules and regulations, its own peculiar 
 habits and prejudices — vested rights and pri- 
 vileges, which were very frequently extremely 
 inconvenient and annoying to the officers above 
 them. A certain portion Ox" information they 
 felt themselves bound to afford ; but they 
 would afford no more, unless they were either 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 81 
 
 \ery highly paid for it, or some special case 
 was pointed out, in regard to which the police 
 really wished to get accurate and complete in- 
 formation. The general mass of wickedness 
 which they discovered, and indeed the par- 
 ticular instances of crime, either committed or 
 meditated, were seldom, if ever, revealed un- 
 less some great object was to be gained; so 
 that it is clearly ascertained, many a man has 
 been allowed to go about Paris for three, four, 
 five, or six years, when his life was entirely in 
 the hands of six or seven infam.ous spies, whose 
 views and purposes it did not suit to inform the 
 police against him. 
 
 It sometimes happened that small or large 
 bribes were given to procure this immunity; 
 but, more frequently still, tPie reticence of the 
 moucliards was not at all mercenary ; for they 
 were a philosophical race of men, and saw 
 things in an extended point of vievr. They 
 were, indeed, so fully and generally convinced of 
 the necessity of crime and wickedness of all 
 kinds for the encouragement of their trade, 
 and for the extension of their emoluments, that 
 
 VOL. J. G 
 
82 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 I hey would have been very sorry indeed to have 
 given any serious discouragement to vice. 
 They looked upon the world, in short, as a 
 great orchard, where sins were produced for 
 their benefit; and though they might gather the 
 fruit, they would have been very sorry indeed to 
 cut down the trees. 
 
 Let it be remembered, all this time, that I 
 am speaking alone of the city of Paris, which 
 — although the citizens looked upon it as 
 " France," and both in their speech and notions 
 had a certain confusion of ideas upon the sub- 
 ject, which made them believe that Paris com- 
 prised every thing in the world, and that France 
 was only a small quarter or portion of it — Let it 
 be remembered, I say, that I am speaking alone 
 of Paris, which was not, after all, the whole 
 country. For a certain distance in the en- 
 virons of the capital the influence of the French 
 police and the system of espionage was felt. 
 All the very large towns, too, of course, aped 
 the metropolis in its public and its private 
 vices ; but there were wide tracts of country 
 to which the system of espionage did not ex- 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 83 
 
 tend ; and respecting which, as was afterwards 
 lamentably proved, the French government 
 possessed no information whatsoever, as far at 
 least as regarded the wants and wishes, habits 
 and character, of the people. 
 
 To return, however, from this long digres- 
 sion to good Pierre Morin and the agent of 
 police. The latter — who had been originally a 
 mouchard, and had afterwards been elevated to 
 the dignity of an exempt, without losing his 
 taste for the science to which he had originally 
 addicted himself — having gazed, as we have 
 said, for some time upon the countenance of 
 the filigree- worker, and being satisfied by all he 
 saw that the man was sleeping the sleep of inno- 
 cence, pulled him by the arm and woke him with 
 a sudden start. " Come, come, sir," he said, 
 " get up ! the lieutenant of police wants to speak 
 to you directly. You must come and tell what 
 you know of this murder last night." 
 
 Now every Parisian who was not a moucliard 
 
 bore a vast share of hatred and enmity to all 
 
 individuals of that class, and scarcely less to 
 
 officers of police ; and Pierre Morin, conse- 
 
 G 2 
 
84 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 quently, was not at all disposed to hold any 
 long conference with his companion. He shook 
 himself in silence without feeling very much 
 discomposed by having slept in his clothes, and 
 followed to the especial apartments of the lieu- 
 tenant-general of police, where he was detained 
 some time in an antechamber without seeing 
 that officer. 
 
 At length, however, he was summoned to the 
 great man's presence, and found him sitting in 
 his bed-room, robed in an embroidered dressing- 
 gown, and eating various savoury ragouts as a 
 preparation for the labours of the day. It may 
 seem that such a place and such a time were not 
 very fit to receive the deposition of a v/itness in 
 a case of murder: but things were so done in 
 Paris in those days ; and the lieutenant of police 
 thus lost no time in eating his chicken and his 
 sweetbreads, drinking his burgundy and water, 
 and questioning Pierre Morin with the most 
 admirable perseverance and determination. 
 
 Although a lieutenant of police was always a 
 very awful sort of personage in the eyes of the 
 lower order of Parisians, and even of the hiMier 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 85 
 
 classes also, yet the good artisan was seldom with- 
 out having all his wits about him; and he an- 
 swered the questions vvhich were asked of him 
 with veracity, clearness, and precision. He told 
 his tale not only truly but accurately; for though 
 at first sight truth and accuracy may seem to 
 be the same thing, yet in operation they are 
 very different. Many a man who tells a story 
 which is perfectly true is not believed, because 
 he fails to put all things in their proper order, 
 to add all the particulars which elucidate the 
 facts and oive the whole the air of veritv. 
 Pierre Morin, however, entered into all the de- 
 tails, informed the lieutenant of his visit on the 
 preceding night to the unhappy man who had 
 been murdered, related their conversation with 
 so much point and truth that the officer himself 
 smiled at the painting of the character of old 
 Fiteau, which was well known in Paris ; and the 
 artisan then proceeded to tell hov/ the goldsmith 
 had locked him up in the room, in order that 
 his work might be done by the time required. 
 
 " I know not well," he continued, " how long 
 I had been there, when I heard what I thought 
 
 G a 
 
86 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 a cry, which seemed suddenly stifled. I per- 
 suaded myself it was nothing, however, and 
 went on ; but I had scarcely given the pincers 
 a turn when there was a terrible sound of strug- 
 gling in the next room, and I heard the voice 
 of old Fitcau, crying ' Help, help ! murder, mur- 
 der !' There were bars upon all the windows, 
 so there was no way to get out but by the door. 
 As I knew that was locked, and it would take 
 time to break the fastenings off, I snatched up 
 one of the chasing chisels, and with it forced back 
 the lock. When the door was open, I found 
 the other room all dark, but the lamp I had 
 been working with lighted it up in a minute. 
 The first thing I saw was the poor old man 
 upon the ground, with two men dressed like gen- 
 tlemen on their knees over him ; one squeezing 
 his mouth and head down upon the floor with 
 his hand, while the other seemed stabbing him 
 with a knife. The minute I came in, one started 
 
 up". 
 
 " Stay, stay," said the lieutenant — "you say 
 stabbing him with a knife: their swords were 
 not drawn, then?" 
 
THE AXCIENT REGIME. 87 
 
 " No, no," replied Pierre Morin, " there 
 were no swords drawn at that time ; not indeed 
 till I had knocked the man down with my ham- 
 mer, who first started up." 
 
 " Where is the hammer ? " demanded the 
 lieutenant. 
 
 " Here," answered Pierre Morin, taking it 
 out of his pocket, and giving it to the officer, 
 who held out his hand for it. 
 
 " Go on," said the lieutenant, — " what 
 happened next?" 
 
 " Why, then," replied Pierre Morin, '^ the 
 other, who was upon his feet by this time, 
 rushed at me, drawing his sword ; but poor old 
 Fiteau helped me at that pinch, though he was as 
 dead as Ste. Genevieve, for the scoundrel stum- 
 bled over him before he could run me through 
 with his rapier. Thereupon I scrambled out 
 of the door as fast as I could, and, banging it 
 to, locked it upon them. They struggled hard 
 to get it open, but they could not; though, if 
 they had not been two fools, or else stupifiea 
 by what they had done, they would have soon 
 G 4 
 
88 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 picked the lock with all the tools that I left 
 there. In the mean while I ran out of the shop 
 and gave the alarm ; and you yourself,] mon- 
 seigneur, know all the rest." 
 
 It will be remarked, in this account, that good 
 Pierre Morin did not think fit to say one word — 
 on the present occasion, at least — concerning the 
 person whom he had seen on the outside of the 
 door. It might be forgetfulness, it might be 
 a certain feeling of compassion or good-nature 
 which made him not wish to implicate a man, 
 of whose guilt he had no certain proof, in so 
 terrible an accusation. There was no necessity, 
 it is true, of saying any thing more unasked, 
 for as soon as he had given the mere details 
 of the murder, the lieutenant of police began 
 to question him in a closer manner. 
 
 " So," he said, " you intend me to believe 
 all this?" 
 
 " Indeed I do, monseigneur," replied Pierre 
 Morin ; " and what's more, you do believe it, I 
 can see very well : you are not the man to mis- 
 take between truth and falsehood when they are 
 put before you, I am sure." 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 89 
 
 " Indeed," said the lieutenant of police, with 
 a sarcastic smile at the broad flattery which 
 the peasantry of France are almost as ready to 
 apply as the peasantry of Ireland, thinking it 
 nothing more than common courtesy after all — 
 y Indeed, you are certainly a man of genius, 
 Monsieur Pierre Morin ; and though you are 
 clearly new to the trade, you have as much im- 
 pudence as the oldest Jiloit in Paris. You do 
 not do great honour to my penetration, how- 
 ever, when you tell me this ridiculous story 
 of the sordid old goldsmith leaving you on his 
 premises all night, and of your consenting to 
 remain shut up in a room till he chose to set 
 you free in the morning." 
 
 " If you w^ill not believe that, monseigneur," 
 replied Pierre Morin, perfectly calmly, " pray 
 tell me what you will believe?" 
 
 " Why, probably," answered the lieutenant 
 of police, " that you are yourself one of the 
 accomplices, left in the outer shop while your 
 two companions did the deed within ; and that, 
 alarmed by the old man's cries, or by some- 
 body coming, you shut the door upon the 
 
90 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 Others, and gave the alarm. It was a clever 
 trick, I must own, and, as such, should not go 
 without its reward. If j^ou will confess the 
 whole, then, and bear witness against these two 
 friends of yours, you shall have a pardon your- 
 self, and we may do something for you. No 
 man ever makes so good an exempt as one who 
 has been apprehended two or three times him- 
 self. What say you?" ^ 
 
 " Oh, monseigneur, I will bear witness 
 against the two willingly," replied Pierre Mo- 
 rin ; " but there is another, a very honest fel- 
 low, whom I will not bear witness against, and 
 his name is Pierre Morin." 
 
 The lieutenant of police seemed to be 
 amused with the good artisan's quickness of 
 retort ; and being very well convinced that the 
 other had nothing to do with the murder, he 
 dropped the tone in which he had been speak- 
 ing, and said, " Well, well, let us hear what 
 you can really bear witness to?" 
 
 " To every thing I saw," replied Pierre 
 Morin. 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 91 
 
 ^' Not SO quick, not so quick," cried the 
 lieutenant : " what was the precise hour at 
 which you went to the shop of old Fiteau ?" 
 
 " I can't exactly say to a minute," replied 
 the artisan, " for I neither looked at the clock 
 nor heard it strike; but it was just that hour 
 Avhen the western sky is all red and gold, and 
 the eastern is of a mouse colour." 
 
 " That is to say, about half-past six," said 
 the lieutenant : " and pray what time did the 
 boy go?" 
 
 Now although, as we have said, the criminal 
 lieutenant was perfectly well convinced that 
 Pierre Morin was innocent of any share of the 
 murder, and, moreover, recollected that the 
 artisan had said the boy was in the shop when 
 Fiteau shut him up in the work-room, yet such 
 was his habit of trying to entangle men in their 
 talk, that he could not resist putting this ques- 
 tion, simply to see what answer the filigree- 
 worker would make. 
 
 " Just at seven o'clock," replied the artisan 
 at once, very much to the surprise of the lieute- 
 nant. 
 
92 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 "Indeed!" said the officer: *' pray, vvliich 
 way did he go?" 
 
 " That I can't tell," replied Pierre Morin, 
 with a langh — "I was shut up in the work- 
 room, you knov/." 
 
 " Then pray how can you tell at what hour 
 he went ?" demanded the officer. 
 
 " Because," answered Pierre Morin, grinning 
 at having puzzled the magistrate — " because I 
 had jumped up on the table to open a bit of 
 the small window, and I heard old Fiteau say 
 to the boy, ' Be quick, you sloth, be quick, 
 and do not lose time by the way.' Then, the 
 moment the door was shut, the boy began a 
 tune that I often heard him whistle before, but 
 stopped when Notre Dame struck seven, be- 
 cause, I suppose, its song and his did not 
 sound well together." 
 
 The lieutenant-general smiled; for mental 
 fencing was an art in which he took great de- 
 light, even when his opponent parried skilfully 
 his attack. " Bring in the boy Pierre Jean," 
 he said to a clerk who was writing busily at a 
 table not far off; and the obsequious and silent 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 93 
 
 iioter down of other men's sayings and doings 
 rose without a word, glided out of the room, 
 and returned as quietly with poor Fiteau's 
 errand boy. The youth was all aghast at the 
 awful presence into which he was brought, and 
 seemed just in that state in which a skilful cross- 
 examiner can contrive to make a witness say 
 any thing he pleases. 
 
 " Pray what were the last words your master 
 said to you last night?" said the lieutenant- 
 general of police. " Mark me, the last words 
 he said to you ?" 
 
 " He said — he said," replied tlie bo}', look- 
 ing first up to the ceiling and then down upon 
 the floor — " he said, ' Carry that to Madame 
 de Rohan's.' That's the last thing he said." 
 
 The lieutenant of police grinned ; but before 
 he could interpose, the fih'gree-worker had ex- 
 claimed, *• What did he say to you outside the 
 door, Pierre Jean ? " 
 
 A look of intelligence came up into the boy's 
 face at the sound of a familiar voice, and he 
 replied at once, " Oh, he said then, ' Be quick, 
 be quick, and do not lose time by the way;' 
 
94 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 and he called me a sloth, too, though I alwaj^s 
 make as much haste as I can." 
 
 It was now Pierre Morin's turn to grin, and 
 the boy havhig been sent out of the room, the 
 lieutenant of police proceeded to interrogate the 
 artisan upon various other points. The first of 
 these was in reference to what he had done with 
 the instrument employed in forcing back the 
 lock. Next, he strongly and severely cross- 
 examined him as to which of the murderers had 
 the knife in his hand, and which was stifling 
 the voice of the unfortunate goldsmith at the 
 moment when the filigree- worker made his way 
 into the room. 
 
 To all his questions the answers of Pierre 
 Morin were clear, definite, and pointed. He 
 never hesitated, or contradicted himself, or 
 varied in the slightest particular from any 
 statement that he made ; and still as he an- 
 swered, the clerk at the neighbouring table took 
 rapid notes of all his replies. The character 
 of the artisan rose very high in the opinion of 
 the lieutenant-general of police, not so much 
 on account of the moral rectitude he dis- 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 95 
 
 played — for the officer of police had no ob- 
 jection to a good rogue on an occasion — as on 
 account of his quickness, precision, and pre- 
 sence of mind, which, as is very evident, are 
 high qualities in those who have any thing to 
 do with such subjects as come under the notice 
 of the police. 
 
 After having questioned the artisan for more 
 than half an hour, he suddenly asked him if 
 he could write ; and receiving an affirmative 
 answer, he made him transcribe two or three 
 sentences, which he looked at with an approv- 
 ing exclamation, and then bade him go into 
 the next room and wait for him there. 
 
 Pierre Morin found in the neighbouring 
 chamber several exempts in the dress which 
 was at that time worn by those personages, and 
 two other people in plain clothes, w^ho were, in 
 fact, officers of the police of a superior class, 
 and less ostensible functions. These were the 
 persons who, armed with a lettre de cachet and 
 with a sufficient body of inferiors, unseen but 
 within call, would whisper a few words with a 
 soft air to clergyman or nobleman, warrior 
 
96 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 or magistrate, in the midst of a gay assembly 
 or a public promenade, and the spectators 
 would see the cheek grow pale, the smile 
 wither away upon the lip, the knees tremble, 
 and the eyes lose their light, as the victim of 
 arbitrary power followed a mandate which could 
 not be resisted. 
 
 Pierre Morin looked about for the boy, and 
 not seeing him as he expected, he ventured to 
 ask one of the exempts where he was. The 
 officer looked at him with a smile, somewhat 
 contemptuous, and then replied, " You will 
 soon learn, my friend, that in this room nobody 
 asks any questions or answers any." 
 
 " I am sure they ask enough in the other," 
 replied Pierre Morin. 
 
 " There is another chamber still," replied 
 the exempt, " where they employ only one, but 
 which you might find somewhat difficult to bear 
 if you were put to it." 
 
 This plain allusion to the torture quelled all 
 poor Pierre Morin's gaiety in a moment, and he 
 remained in dead silence till, after some coming 
 and going between the room in which he sat 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 97 
 
 and that in which he had left the lieutenant 
 of police, he was taken down the stairs by one 
 of the exempts, and put into a fiacre^ which 
 rolled away towards the Chatelet. At the door 
 of that building stood the carriage of the lieu- 
 tenant of police, who had preceded tlie artisan 
 by a few minutes ; and on passing through the 
 small wicket into the interior of that gloomy 
 and awful abode of wretchedness and crime, 
 the porter whispered something to the exempt, 
 who paused in his progress, and, seeing that 
 poor Pierre Morin had advanced a step or two 
 before him, he told him to stand back till 
 he w^as called for. " People get in here fast 
 enough," he said in a sullen tone — " you may 
 find it more difficult to ffet out aG:ain." 
 
 Tlie good filigree-worker very easily be- 
 lieved the words of the exempt; and in fact his 
 advance had been rather the effect of agitation 
 at finding himself in such a place, than of 
 alacrity. What he was brought there for he 
 knew not ; and although he derived some hop3 
 of not being detained there, from the circum- 
 stance of the criminal lieutenant having pre- 
 
 VOL. I. H 
 
98 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 ceded him, yet many a vague and horrible 
 apprehension was raised in his breast, by the 
 sight of those dark arches and heavy walls, 
 which were but too terribly famed in French 
 history. In this state of uncertainty and fear, 
 the poor artisan would gladly have turned his 
 attention to any thing but his own situation ; 
 and an immense large dog, with a leathern 
 collar bristling with iron spikes, which stood 
 beside the gaoler *, was the first object with 
 which he endeavoured to employ himself. On 
 putting out his hand, however, to pat the ani- 
 mal's head, he found that it was inspired by 
 the spirit of the place ; first snapping violently 
 at the hand that attempted to caress it, and 
 then — after looking at him fiercely for a mo- 
 ment — flying at his throat with a sharp yell. 
 The turnkey laughed, but made a sign with his 
 finger to the dog, which instantly retreated to 
 his master's side. 
 
 * Each of the turnkeys of the Chatelet at this time 
 was followed by one or more of these clogs, who, we 
 have reason to believe, were taught to drive the pri- 
 soners hither or thither like flocks of beasts. They M^ere 
 trained, too, we are told, with extraordinary care. 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 99 
 
 A long silence ensued; but Pierre Morin 
 was neither of an age, nor a nation, nor a 
 character to remain long still and unoccupied ; 
 and after fixing his eyes for a minute or two 
 on some object on the other side of the court, 
 he moved a little towards a large heavy wooden 
 case which stood close by the wicket. It bore 
 evident signs of having been constructed many 
 years before ; was in shape like a very large 
 coffin ; and Pierre Morin would willingly have 
 asked what was its use, had he not received 
 more than one severe rebuke in the course of 
 the morning. The eyes of the gaoler, however, 
 followed him, and then turned towards the 
 exempt with a grim and meaning smile. 
 
 " Do you know what that is, my good 
 youth?" the turnkey said, at length. "That 
 is what we call the crust of the pie,^^ 
 
 Poor Pierre Morin was as much in the dark 
 as ever; and, not choosing to ask any thing 
 farther, he remained murmuring, " The crust 
 of the pie ! The crust of the pie !" 
 
 "Ay," said the turnkey, after having suffered 
 him to puzzle himself with the matter for some 
 H 2 
 
100 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 time — " the crust of the pie ; that is to say, it 
 is the cercueil hannal, the coffin of the quarter. 
 Now you see that when one of our pets dies, 
 which generally happens every other day, we 
 pop him in there at once, and send him to the 
 burying-ground, where he lies quite as com- 
 fortably in his shroud as if he had ever so many 
 feet of oak round about him. That is a need- 
 less luxury, too, a shroud : I don't see why we 
 should give tliem a shroud — they give us 
 nothing but trouble." 
 
 ''And do you bury them directly?" said 
 Pierre Morin, in a low voice. 
 
 " To be sure," replied the turnkey : " what 
 should we keep them above ground for ? We 
 give half an liour to make sure that it's all 
 rii^ht, and then we cart them off. It sometimes 
 happens, indeed, that one o^ our pailleicx* dies, 
 while another is sickish, and then we wait till 
 we see if the other won't go too : you see the 
 crust of the pie is big enough to hold more 
 tlian one partridge;" and, laughing aloud at his 
 
 * A name given to the prisoners, from their lying on 
 straw in their dungeons. 
 
THE ANCIENT JIEGIME. 101 
 
 own joke, he gave the public coffin a kick wiih 
 his foot, and then added, as it returned a dull 
 hollow sound, ^' It is empty now ; but I put 
 three in it yesterday — so that may do for a day 
 or two at least." 
 
 It is astonishing how familiarity hardens the 
 heart of man to human suffering, and steels us 
 against all the strange and horrible things of 
 earthly existence ; but there are some men who, 
 without any such terrible training, feel a plea- 
 sure in the sight of sorrow — derive a sort of 
 agreeable excitement from witnessing the pangs 
 and miseries of life in others. I once met with 
 a man who had been the public executioner in 
 a large city of France during the most san- 
 guinary period of the Revolution. He had 
 become a cripple, in consequence of wounds 
 afterwards received in war, and had known in 
 his own person much of the anguish and sorrow 
 which he had formerly aided to inflict upon 
 others; but yet, when I asked him if he did 
 not look back with horror and regret at those 
 times and deeds, he laughed, and said " Not at 
 all;" that he only wished such days would 
 H 3 
 
102 THE A^'CIEXT REGIME. 
 
 come back again, and that he were able to 
 cut off the clogs' heads as before. His eyes, 
 too, sparkled when he spoke on the subject, so 
 as to leave no doubt of his sincerity. 
 
 Such a one was the turnkey with whom the 
 good Pierre Morin was now speaking ; and 
 although he very well understood that the ar- 
 tisan was not likely to remain under his gentle 
 custody, yet he took a delight in stirring up all 
 sorts of apprehensions in his bosom, and in 
 presenting every painful and disagreeable ob- 
 ject to his mind that the place could suggest. 
 
 He was not suffered to go on much longer, 
 however ; for in a minute or two after the above 
 dialogue had taken place a messenger came to 
 summon Pierre Morin and the exempt to the 
 presence of the lieutenant of police. They 
 found him at one end of a large hall, seated in 
 an arm-chair, with two or three clerks at a table 
 beside him, and at the other end of the room 
 some twenty or thirty prisoners, with a number 
 of gaolers and archers, as they were still called, 
 though it must be understood that the bow and 
 arrow had long disappeared from amongst them. 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 103 
 
 " Come hither," said the criminal lieutenant, 
 beckoning to Pierre Morin ; and when the ar- 
 tisan had approached his side, he added in a 
 lower voice, " You are to understand by the 
 words 'number one' the man who had the 
 knife ; by ' number two,' the man who held the 
 goldsmith down. Mark all these prisoners as 
 they pass before you ; and when you recognise 
 either of the assassins, say ' number one ' or 
 ' number two,' as .the case may be." 
 
 He paused for a few moments after he had 
 spoken, and then made a sign to one of the turn- 
 keys, upon which the prisoners, one by one, were 
 ordered to march forward, and, passing before 
 the lieutenant and those who surrounded him, 
 to make their exit by a door on his left hand. 
 
 To the eye of a philosopher, it might have been 
 a curious and interesting spectacle to trace, in 
 the aspect of those unhappy men, the effects 
 of imprisonment, under various circumstances, 
 upon their several characters. There was the 
 gay light debauchee, who had found his way 
 into the Chatelet in consequence of some crimi- 
 nal intrigue or idle quarrel, passing on upoii 
 H 4 
 
104 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 the tips of his toes as hghtly and thoughtlessly 
 as if he had never committed evil or endured 
 sorrow. There was the man of deeper feelings, 
 bowed down by the sense of crime or shame, 
 walking forward with the eye bent upon the 
 ground, and the flushed hectic of anxious care 
 upon his cheek. There was the daring and 
 brutal criminal, hardened in offences and impu- 
 dent in iniquity, staring full in the faces of 
 those before whom he passed, and seeming 
 almost inclined to whistle, as if in defiance of 
 tlie authority which he believed had done its 
 worst upon him. ^Then came the dull and 
 heavy man of guilt and of despair, who bore 
 about with him the memories of many years' 
 imprisonment and exclusion from all social in- 
 tercourse, with the light of hope gone out in his 
 eye and in his heart, and nothing left but tena- 
 city of life and capability of endurance. But 
 who was that who came at length, with a bold 
 and even menacing brow, with a firm step and 
 measured military tread, but withal a restless and 
 anxious eye, and a lip which quivered — it might 
 be with anger, it might be with apprehension? 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 105 
 
 " Number two," said the artisan aloud, as the 
 prisoner passed, without the slightest hesitation, 
 and with a firm, distinct, and even solemn voice, 
 as if his mind were much affected by the import- 
 ance of the occasion, and the awful duty that 
 fell upon him. 
 
 " Are you quite sure?" demanded the lieu- 
 tenant, in a low tone. 
 
 " As I live ! " replied Pierre Morin ; and im- 
 mediately the lieutenant made a sign with his 
 finger to one of the archers, who followed the 
 prisoner out. 
 
 Two or three others now passed in succes- 
 sion before the lieutenant and his party, with- 
 out a word being said by the good artisan. At 
 length, however, there appeared a personage of 
 distinguished mien, who advanced with a grace- 
 ful and easy step, slow, calm, deliberate, with 
 no sort of expression upon his countenance 
 which could at all indicate the feelings of his 
 heart, unless it were a slight but somewhat 
 supercilious smile, as if contempt for the whole 
 proceeding mastered every other sensation. 
 
 " Number one," said the artisan firmly ; 
 
JU6 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 and the other, without takmg any notice, passed 
 on. Two more prisoners followed without no- 
 tice ; and then the lieutenant of police, rising, 
 gave some directions in a low voice to the offi- 
 cers near him. 
 
 " Come hither, my friend," he said at length, 
 turning to Pierre Morin. ^' We have seldom 
 such fellows as you to deal with; but get you 
 home, and rest in peace till I send for you 
 again. Never be out of the house, however, 
 for a whole day together, till this business is 
 over ; and if you behave as well at the trial as 
 you have done to-day, we will give you some- 
 thing better to do than twisting silver wire into 
 filio^ree baskets." 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 107 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 In all the streets and alleys of the city of Paris, 
 in the squares, and along the quays, there was 
 a continual cry kept up during the whole of 
 the morning of the 30th of April, by a number 
 of men whose stout lungs had acquired re- 
 doubled power by the constant practice of 
 shouting forth whatever was calculated to excite 
 the curiosity of the Parisian public. 
 
 " Arret de mort ! Arret de mort ! Sentence 
 of death ! Sentence of death !" cried the sturdy 
 hawkers, as they ran through the streets with 
 bundles of printed papers in their hands, sell- 
 ing, for a small piece of copper, to the eager 
 multitude the judgment of the law in the trial 
 
 of the Count de H and the Chevalier de 
 
 M , for the cold-blooded and deliberate 
 
 murder of the old goldsmith, Gaultier Fiteau. 
 
 The people read the sentence with surprise 
 
108 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 and terror — for the names of both the con- 
 demned announced noble blood and high sta- 
 tion; and the punishment, the horrid punish- 
 ment of tlie wheel, was one which, in the 
 memory of man, had never been inflicted on 
 any but one of lowly race. Almost daily, 
 indeed, the people saw one of their own class 
 underiTo the same terrible fate without wonder 
 or horror ; and many, who witnessed with their 
 own eyes the bloodshed and the agony, pre- 
 pared, the very next day, by some similar crime 
 to that of the wretch who had just expired, to 
 take their place on the same scaffold where he 
 had suffered. But now — oh strange human 
 nature ! — the very same persons, who beheld 
 the punishment almost with indifference in men 
 of a lower rank, attached feelings of awe and 
 horror to it which they had never felt before, 
 now that it was to be inflicted upon the nobles 
 of the land. They, in fact, transferred, by a 
 strange process of the human mind, the ab- 
 horrence which they should have felt for the 
 additional guilt implied by the circumstance of 
 education, to the punishment about to be in- 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 109 
 
 flicted, and viewed the wheel with sensations 
 with which they had never regarded it before. 
 
 Such was the popular feeling upon the occa- 
 sion of this condemnation ; but amongst the 
 nobles themselves, still more agitation and 
 horror existed. Pride came into play in their 
 case, — the pride of blood, and of that rank 
 which had long given them a certain degree of 
 immunity in the commission of evil. The pri- 
 vileges of their station, they fancied, extended 
 to all and every thing. They were indignant 
 at the very sentence pronounced by the court; 
 that two noblemen should be broken on the 
 wheel like common felons ; and they doubted 
 not — they would not doubt, that the sentence 
 would be commuted, even if the criminals were 
 not pardoned. At first they had the daring 
 to ask for absolute pardon ; but the stern coun- 
 tenance with which they were received, soon 
 taught them that they must be more moderate, 
 and a commutation was all that was required. 
 
 The answer was, " It is impossible ; " and 
 now every argument and entreaty was made 
 use of to obtain some mitioration : thousands of 
 
110 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 the nobility flocked to the palace; conferences 
 were held amongst themselves ; and it was re- 
 presented to the prince who then governed 
 France, that the criminals were connected 
 with all the first families in the land. They 
 urged the horror, the shame, and the disgrace 
 it would be to many a high and noble person, 
 if the degrading sentence, usually pronounced 
 upon a conviction of common felons, should be 
 carried into effect against two men of so high a 
 rank. The prince was immovable, however; 
 and to every entreaty urged upon these grounds 
 he replied, *' It is the crime that makes the 
 disgrace, and not the punishment." 
 
 The fatal day arrived ; and, though till the 
 last moment efforts were still made, still, at the 
 appointed hour, the dark procession began to 
 move from the Chatelet to the Place de Greve, 
 and the awful scene of public execution was 
 enacted without one particular of the sentence 
 being omitted in the punishment of the mur- 
 derers of Gaultier Fiteau. Limb by limb, and 
 bone by bone,' they were broken on the wheel 
 by the iron bar of the executioner; and the 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. Ill 
 
 cries of even the firmest of the two made the 
 air around ring, till they had no longer strength 
 to utter more than a mere entreaty for water to 
 quench their burning thirst, and for the blow 
 of death to terminate their agony. 
 
 While this awful scene was enacting in the 
 Place de Greve, and while it was producing its 
 effect, not only upon the minds of those who 
 witnessed the punishment, but upon the higher 
 as well as the lower orders of France, our good 
 friend Pierre Morin remained closeted with the 
 lieutenant-general of police, talking over many 
 matters of no slight interest to the good artisan. 
 At length the conference closed, and the fili- 
 gree-worker issued forth into the streets, and 
 took his way towards a part of the town which 
 went by the name of the Temple. 
 
 Not only those who had only seen him, as we 
 have described him in the first chapter of this 
 work, clothed in his labouring jacket and leathern 
 apron, but those also who had beheld him in his 
 holyday suit, ready to join the dance at the 
 guingette^ would have been equally puzzled to 
 recognise our old friend Pierre Morin, as he 
 
112 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 now appeared in tlie streets of Paris. He was 
 dressed in a handsome suit of black, with his 
 hair nicely combed and cut into the fashionable 
 shape ; his hands, which were somewhat too 
 brown, at that time, for the rest of his appear- 
 ance, were covered with fine gloves; he had a 
 small sword by his side in a black sheath, and 
 a new hat upon his head, in shape somewhat 
 between that of the court beau and the young 
 lawyer. Thus adorned was the outward man 
 of good Pierre Morin ; nor did he himself at all 
 disgrace his habiliments. His ajood counte- 
 nance naturally appeared to better advantage 
 in a more becoming dress, and his powerful 
 and fine person was equally benefited by the 
 change of his garments. He seemed perfectly 
 at ease in them also, and walked as if his leg 
 had never known any thing but a silk stocking, 
 and his foot had been pressed by nothing coarser 
 than cordovan. As he passed through the 
 lieutenant's antechamber, some of the exempts 
 looked at him with a grin, but their faces be- 
 came composed into decent gravity the moment 
 that he turned towards them. On his way 
 
THE ANCIENT REGI3IE. 113 
 
 along the street, if any persons remarked lilni 
 particularly, they might place him in their own 
 minds amongst some of those not over rich, but 
 rising classes, which were the general wearers 
 of black coats at that time in Paris ; the suc- 
 cessful literary men, the poorer members of the 
 academy, the promising artist, the celebrated 
 musician. But the dress of Pierre Morin was 
 well chosen, for it was of all others that which 
 was best calculated to pass without attracting 
 any attention whatsoever. 
 
 Thus, as he walked on towards the Temple, 
 he brushed against more than one distant ac- 
 quaintance without receiving any thing but a 
 casual look, and not the slightest sign or token 
 of recognition. Pierre INIorin took no notice 
 of them either ; but it must not be inferred 
 from that fact that the good artisan was one 
 to suffer fortune to change favour. It was 
 not in the slightest degree that he forgot or 
 despised his former acquaintances ; his heart 
 was as warm and as kindly, as honest and as 
 true, as ever. But Pierre Morin had other 
 objects in view — a new course of life wa^ open 
 
 VOL. I. I 
 
114 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 before him — and he hoped, even in doing 
 his duty therein, to be enabled to serve and 
 assist some, in whose welfare he took a high and 
 unselfish interest. 
 
 One of those whom he thus passed as he went 
 on slowly towards the Temple was no other 
 than our friend the Abbe de Castelneau, who 
 was walking heavily forward, with his eyes bent 
 upon the ground, his countenance paler than 
 usual, and his lips shut tight together, as if 
 some bitter and anxious thoughts were labour- 
 ing in his bosom. Though Pierre Morin had 
 sought for him anxiously, as the reader already 
 knows, and had been much disquieted by not 
 finding him, he would not be tempted by any 
 consideration to stop him and speak with him 
 now. The abbe, on his part, lifted his eyes for 
 a moment to the artisan's face as he passed, 
 but did not appear to recognise him in the 
 slightest degree ; and their clothes brushed 
 against each other, without the wearers' speak- 
 ing. It must be recollected, indeed, that the 
 difference, in those days, between the dress of 
 an artisan and that of a gentleman was very, 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 115 
 
 very much greater than it is at present; so 
 that it was not at all astonishing the abbe, 
 who had seen Pierre Morin only twice, should 
 not at all recollect him in his present garb. 
 After proceeding upon the errand which took 
 him to the Temple, a place which was then 
 invested with the privileges of sanctuary, so 
 far, at least, as the protection of debtors from 
 their creditors went — for the right of shield- 
 ing criminals from the arm of the law had 
 long been done away with altogether, — Piejre 
 Morin returned to his home, where he found 
 his good wife, Margiette, almost as gay a bird, 
 in point of plumage, as himself. Leaving them, 
 however, to enjoy the comforts of their new 
 situation, we may as well speak a v/ord or two 
 more of the Abbe de Castelneau, havino- al- 
 ready mentioned his name in this chapter. 
 
 After proceeding some way along the streets, 
 which were now nearly vacant, he was met by 
 one of the hawkers crying an account of the 
 execution of that morning, before the unhap-pv, 
 criminals were cold upon the wheel. Numbers 
 of people coming away from the bloody scone 
 I 2 
 
116 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 then presented themselves ; and the abbe — who 
 was, in fact, at this period one of the inhabitants 
 of the Temple, on account of a small debt which 
 he could not pay — turned his steps home, for 
 fear he should be discovered by some officer 
 beyond the limits of his temporary asylum. On 
 entering the dingy chamber which he there 
 inhabited, the woman who took care of those 
 apartments, as well as several others, placed a 
 small paper packet in his hand, at the address 
 of which the abbe looked gravely, while she 
 retired to her usual avocations. 
 
 He then turned the packet, in order to open 
 it and see the contents. But the moment his 
 eye rested on the seal, his cheek turned as pale 
 as death, his lips lost their colour, and the 
 packet fell from his trembling hands. He 
 gazed at it for a moment or two as it lay upon 
 the ground, as if it presented some horrible 
 sight to his eyes. But then, with a sudden 
 eflPort, he stooped down, took it up, tore open 
 the seal, and, to his surprise, beheld two or 
 three of those " actions cle hanque " which were 
 at that period in common circulation through 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME, 117 
 
 the French metropolis as the chief paper money 
 of the land. The sum thus placed before him 
 was considerable; but, on the top of the notes, 
 was a very small piece of paper, folded into the 
 shape of a billet, and sealed with the same seal 
 the sight of which seemed so much to surprise 
 him. Within the note was written, " Abbe de 
 Castelneau, quit Paris, and never return to it." 
 There was no signature, and the handwriting 
 was unknown to him ; but the words had a 
 great effect upon liis mind, if we may judge by 
 the facts, that his debt was immediately paid, 
 and that before sunset on that day he was once 
 more out of Paris, and on his way into the south 
 of France. 
 
 I 3 
 
118 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 CHAP. VIII. 
 
 " I WILL tell you," says Rosalind, " who Time 
 ambles withal, who Time trots withal, who 
 Time gallops withal, and who he stands still 
 withal." But the truth is, however, that Time 
 gallops with us all. In the impatience of our 
 boyhood he may seem to go too slow, and in 
 the feebleness of our age he may seem to go 
 too fast ; but, alas ! his pace is very equable, as 
 we all find at last ; and skilful must be that 
 rider whom he does not in the end leave in 
 the mire. 
 
 It is an excellent observation of a great poet, 
 that, let a man live as long as he will, the first 
 thirty years of his life will always seem the 
 longest ; and the daily routine of our after years 
 passes like the round of a clock, while the hands 
 on the outside and the movements within mark 
 the passing of time to others, without a con- 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 119 
 
 sciousness thereof in itself, till the weight has 
 run down, and the pendulum stands still. 
 
 The place, however, in which time may be 
 made to run the fastest, is in a book, where the 
 author, so long as he is writing it at least, by 
 the magic wand called his pen, reigns supreme 
 with undisputed sway over every thing that is 
 brought within his own particular circle. Even 
 Time himself, the hoary-headed sage whose 
 resistless power neither towers nor temples, 
 thrones nor dynasties, have been able to with- 
 stand, is obliged to obey when brought under 
 that rod, and to hurry or slacken his pace ac- 
 cording to the writer's will. He may, perhaps, 
 revenge himself upon the readers afterwards ; 
 but here he is under our dominion ; and accord- 
 ingly, I command that eighteen years should 
 pass, as if it were but a dream, between the 
 conclusion of the last chapter and the events 
 which I am now about to record. Suppose 
 yourself, gentle reader, to be one of the seven 
 sleepers, and the interval that I now propose 
 to you will seem but as a short nap. 
 
 Space, too, I must control as well as time, 
 I 4 
 
120 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 and lead the mind away from the busy metrc- 
 poUs of France into a distant province, con- 
 veying myself and others into the midst of 
 scenes far more congenial to all our feelings 
 than the dull and dusty capital, with its vicious 
 crowds and idle gaieties, where pleasure supplies 
 the place of happiness, and luxury tries to pass 
 itself for contentment. 
 
 Eighteen years had elapsed, then, since the 
 execution of the murderers of Gaultier Fiteau. 
 Eighteen years had elapsed since the talent 
 and decision which Pierre Morin had displayed 
 on that occasion had attracted the notice of 
 one who was willing and able to raise him 
 above the station in which we have first de- 
 picted him. Eighteen years bad passed since 
 the Abbe cle Castelneau had adopted, if we 
 may so call it, the child Annette, and had 
 qnitted Paris for the second lime since he first 
 appeared before the reader. 
 
 What were the changes those eighteen years 
 had produced? In the states and empires of 
 Europe, changes immense and extraordinary ! 
 The same king, indeed, still sat upon the throne 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 121 
 
 of France, but society itself had undergone a 
 vast alteration, and all the relations of tlie 
 kingdom with foreign states were different. 
 Enemies had become fiiends, and friends ene- 
 mies, and the nearest of the monarch's kindred 
 were hostilely opposed to his views. 
 
 To a narrower circle, however, we must 
 bound our own inquiries. What were the 
 changes those eighteen years had produced in 
 the Abbe de Castelneau, and the child he had 
 so strangely adopted at a moment when, as 
 we have shown, he had but little wealth of 
 any kind even to support himself? In per- 
 son he remained very much the same as we 
 have already described him. His hair might 
 be somewhat more grey ; and certain indescrib- 
 able appearances might indicate to an attentive 
 eye, that Time's wing had flapped more than 
 once over his head since we first presented him 
 to the eye of the reader. He was older in ap- 
 pearance, but yet not much ; for at the former 
 period he had looked older than he really was, 
 and at the latter he looked younger. 
 
 In his mind there had taken place various 
 
122 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 changes : and although I do not intend to enter 
 into any minute account of his character, but 
 rather to let it develope itself, yet it may be as 
 well to keep in mind that this is no creation 
 of the fancy, but a living creature of flesh and 
 blood ; a being mingled of good and evil which 
 then existed, and which has had many a suc- 
 cessor since. It is well to remember also that 
 he was a man of strong passions and feelings, 
 both vicious and virtuous; and that the thing 
 then called philosophy had taken away from 
 him those principles upon which his good feel- 
 ings might have rested secure, and had only 
 served to teach him to conceal his sensations 
 from others, and very often from himself. 
 
 Since he had quitted Paris, however, the 
 better feelings had obtained wider sway : there 
 was not, in short, so much temptation to evil ; 
 there were many opportunities of good. He 
 learnt to abhor, in new employments and occupa- 
 tions, amusements which he had formerly sought 
 for the exercise of a keen and active mind, and 
 the gratification of an eager and excitable dis- 
 position. The gaming-table had been one or 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 123 
 
 his greatest resources, and he had always sought 
 those games in which chance and skill had an 
 equal share, in order that he might stimulate 
 his heart by expectation and anxiety, and exer- 
 cise his mind by calculation at the same time. 
 There was also a sort of pride and pleasure 
 to him in displaying a certain stoical apathy, 
 which he did not really feel, in regard to the 
 risks and the event of the game. Since he had 
 quitted Paris, however, he had never touched, 
 or even seen, a card. He had found for himself 
 occupation in the neighbourhood of the small 
 house, not far from the town of Agen, in which 
 he dwelt for ten years; and out of the very 
 limited income that remained to him he had 
 contrived to do great good amongst the pea- 
 santry around. He had quieted dissensions^ 
 assisted the poor, had given education to the 
 young, and advice to the old; and, living very 
 frugally himself, he never felt the pressure of 
 need, nor regret at the loss of luxury. 
 
 In his own home, however, still remained the 
 sweet child whom he had adopted; and that very 
 fact might be perhaps the great cause — though. 
 
124 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 beyond doubt, there were many others co-operat- 
 ing — which produced such a change in the habits, 
 if not in the character, of the Abbe cle Castel- 
 neau. It was not only that she offered sufficient 
 occupation for every spare moment; it was not 
 only that she afforded sufficient excitement, and 
 supplied a matter of continual speculation to 
 his philosophy, but it was likewise — at least 
 1 believe so — that there is somethinfy in the 
 pure and simple innocence of infanc}^, a fra- 
 grance, as it were, fresh from the hand of the 
 great Creator of all spirits, which naturally 
 communicates itself to those who are brought 
 near it; purifying, sanctifying, and blessing, by 
 the sight of that guilelessness which they must 
 love, and the loss of which in their own case 
 they must regret. 
 
 This very fact was a matter of speculation to 
 the Abbe de Castelneau himself; and often, 
 when he quitted her, after having amused him- 
 self for many an hour with her infant sports 
 and gambols, he would walk forth up the 
 side of the hill with his eyes bent down 
 upon the ground, looking thoughtful, and, as 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 125 
 
 the peasantry used to fancy, gloomy, but with 
 a chastened joy in his heart which he had never 
 known in scenes of revehy, and pleasure, and 
 indulgence. 
 
 " It is strange !" he would murmur to him- 
 self — "it is very strange ! I fsel better, and 
 wiser, and happier; and all from communion 
 with a child!" 
 
 Thus passed by the days, to him seeming 
 almost as brief as the sentences in which we 
 have recorded the lapse of those eighteen 
 years. But before much more than one half of 
 those eighteen years had flown, a great change 
 took place in the fortunes of the Abbe de 
 Castelneau ; and he was suddenly not only re- 
 stored to as much affluence as he had ever 
 known, but to much greater wealth than he 
 had ever any right to expect. It was not that 
 any of the different benefices which he held, 
 having satisfied the claims of his creditors, w^ere 
 turned to his own use, for it required a longer 
 time than that to pay all the debts that he 
 had contracted ; but, at the end of the ninth 
 year, a report reached him that the son of his 
 
126 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 uncle, the Count de Castelneau, — the only sur- 
 viving son — for it may be recollected that the 
 elder son had been killed in battle about the 
 period at which this history commences, — was 
 dangerously ill. 
 
 The tidings seemed to affect him but little, 
 for this young man had been but a mere boy 
 when the last abbe had been admitted within 
 the walls of the chateau of Castelneau. He 
 had loved his elder cousin most sincerely, and 
 had lamented him truly and deeply when he 
 fell by the banks of the Rhine ; but his own 
 conduct had excluded him for many years from 
 the dwelling of his noble relation, and he took 
 no thought or interest in the young heir of that 
 iiigh house. 
 
 Soon after, news again reached him that the 
 youth was dead : all he said in the way of 
 mourning was, " Poor boy !" But he added, 
 " Now, were I avaricious, I would go and 
 throw myself at the feet of this old man, pro- 
 fess repentance for all my past errors, and 
 induce him to leave me his rich estates, as 
 well as the old chateau which must be mine — 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 127 
 
 unless, indeed, he marry again, and have an- 
 other heir. But I will do none of these things : 
 he was cruel to his eldest son, harsh to his own 
 unhappy wife, stern and unjust to me, and I 
 will not bend to him. Let him leave his 
 wealth to whom he will, I shall have enough to 
 give a dower to my sweet little Annette, and 
 that will close the account well." 
 
 He went not to see his uncle, nor held any 
 communication with him ; and it may be easily 
 supposed that his uncle took no notice of him. 
 Not long after, however, the Bishop of Tou- 
 louse, in passing through that part of the coun- 
 try, took up his abode at the abbe's house for a 
 day or two, inquiring into various facts con- 
 cerning the neighbouring districts, in regard to 
 which none could give him such good inform- 
 ation as his host. The abbe entertained him 
 with a degree of studied plainness that amused 
 the good prelate, but put him at his ease. There 
 was certainly a slight addition made to the 
 breakfast, dinner, and supper of the Abbe de 
 Castelneau, but it was in quantity, not in quality, 
 that any change appeared. The bishop was 
 
128 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 Struck, pleased, and amused, too, with the young 
 Annette, and asked her name one day after she 
 had just quitted the room. 
 
 " Annette de St. Morin," repHed the abbe, 
 briefly. 
 
 The bishop smiled. " Not your child, I 
 hope, monsieur I'abbe?" said the bishop. 
 
 " Yes, my lord !" replied the abbe ; but the 
 moment after he added, with a low bow and a 
 cynical look, " my child by adoption and affec- 
 tion, but nothing more." 
 
 The bishop made no reply, but took his 
 leave of the abbe on the following day; and 
 some months passed in the usual course, with- 
 out any event of importance sufficient to re- 
 quire notice here. At length, however, a courier 
 with a foaming horse stopped at the dwelling 
 of the Abbe de Castelneau, who was at that 
 moment walking down the steps of his house 
 into the little garden that surrounded it. The 
 courier bowed low and presented to him a letter, 
 which the abbe took, and turned to the address 
 with the same calm and unmoved countenance 
 which he now habitually maintained. 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 129 
 
 On the back of tlie epistle he read, " To 
 the Abbe, Count of Castehieau, Castres, near 
 Agen." The seal was black ; and on opening it 
 he proceeded to read a letter from the curate of 
 the parish in which the chateau of Castelneau 
 was situated, informing him of the death of his 
 relation, and telling him that the late count had 
 left no will, having destroyed, the very day 
 before he died, a will which he had made some 
 time previous. 
 
 The abbe thus found himself at once in pos- 
 session of rank and great wealth; but still he 
 received such intelligence without a cliange of 
 expression, and merely ordered his simple an- 
 tiquated chaise — which seemed to have appro- 
 priated to itself all the dust that had been 
 raised upon the roads in the vicinity for more 
 than a century — to be brought round with 
 the two long-tailed mules which had drawn him 
 and his little charge about the neighbourhood 
 of Agen ever since he had quitted Paris. 
 
 Every thing was made ready in the space of 
 two hours. The abbe got in first, the lilile 
 
 VOL. I. K 
 
130 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 girl and Donnine followed, the old man-servant 
 in the grey livery took his place on the outside, 
 and, having hitherto acted the part of gardener 
 as well as lackey, now performed the office of 
 coachman. The journey occupied more than 
 one day, as any person acquainted with the 
 country may understand, although it must be 
 remembered, that the Castelneau of which we 
 speak is not that in the Herault, but rather that 
 at the distance of some four or five leagues from 
 Cahors, in one of the most picturesque and 
 extraordinary parts of France. There are two 
 or three other places of the same name. An- 
 other belonging to the same family was to be 
 found near Auch ; but it will be remarked, that 
 wherever the name of Castelneau is met with 
 there will be likewise found a combination of 
 v/oodj watei', and rocky scenery, aflPording 
 much picturesque beauty, and presenting many 
 a spot where the poet and the painter may rest 
 and dream. The Castelneau, however, near 
 Auch, though it possessed at that time, and 
 perhaps does still, an old castle, was not inha- 
 bited bv the counts of Castelneau; and the 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 131 
 
 place towards which the abbe bent his steps was 
 that in Querci, not far from Figeac. 
 
 Every thing was new and delightful to An- 
 nette de St. Morin, as the little girl was now 
 called, so that to her at least the journey did 
 not seem a long one. The abbe showed no im- 
 patience on his own part; but still he pressed 
 the mules upon their work, as the funeral of the 
 late count was to be delayed .till his arrival. 
 
 At length he reached the castle of his ances- 
 tors — a castle, probably the oldest of the kind 
 in France, of which many parts still stand, as 
 they were raised from the ground, in the dark 
 aoes under the Merovingian kinss of France. 
 The servants, drawn up in mourning, waited 
 him in the great hall, with somewhat of feudal 
 pomp and parade; and, passing through the 
 double line, the abbe went on without taking 
 notice of any one, till he reached the chamber 
 which had been prepared for him, and in which 
 the cure of the village, and the principal notary 
 of Figeac, had remained till his arrival. 
 
 The funeral was performed with great pomp. 
 The abbe took undisputed possession of tlie 
 K 2 
 
132 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 property ; and, accompanied by the notary, 
 broke the seals which had been placed upon 
 the various cabinets, and went through the 
 examination of innumerable papers w^hich had 
 belonfred to the dead man. 
 
 o 
 
 It is always a sad and terrible task — where 
 there is any human feeling left in the heart — 
 that of examining the papers and letters of 
 those who are gone. The records of fruitless 
 affections, of disappointed hopes, of tenderness 
 perhaps misplaced, perhaps turned by the will 
 of fate to scourge the heart that felt it, are 
 there all before our eyes. Side by side, at one 
 view, and in one instant, we have before us the 
 history of a human life, and its sad and awful 
 moral — we have there the picture of every 
 "bright enjoyment, of every warm domestic 
 blessing ; while, written by the hand of death 
 beneath them, is the terrible truth, " These 
 are all past away for ever, and so will it soon be 
 with thee likewise ! " 
 
 Whether he felt these things or not, nobody 
 could tell from the countenance of the Abbe, 
 Count de Castelneau. He appeared neither more 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 133 
 
 nor less sad after the examination than before. 
 One thing, however, he did find, amongst the 
 papers of his deceased relation, which called 
 up to his lip that faint and doubtful smile of 
 which w^e have before had occasion to speak. 
 This was a letter from the Bishop of Toulouse 
 to the late Count de Castelneau, and dated some 
 few months before the death of the latter. It 
 gave an account of the abbe's own state and 
 character at tlie time, and represented him as 
 entirely changed and reclaimed from all the 
 vices which at one time had degraded him, 
 living an honourable and useful life, and con- 
 ferring many benefits on those who surrounded 
 him. 
 
 The Abbe de Castelneau sealed the letter up, 
 and labelled it with the words, " My character 
 from my last place;" but he did not doubt, any 
 more than the reader does, that this very charac- 
 ter, given to him by the Bishop of Toulouse, had 
 put him in possession of the wealth and estates 
 which were now his. It may be asked. If that 
 wealth brought happiness with it? the answer 
 must be. It would appear not. The abbe was 
 K 3 
 
]34 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 not more cheerful, less so even : his gravity- 
 sunk into gloom : there was a sadness about 
 him which not even the presence of the being 
 he loved best on earth, his own little Annette 
 as he used to call her, could altogether dis- 
 sipate. 
 
 His personal habits in the meantime remained 
 almost unchanged, though he took the necessary 
 measures to free himself from his obligations to 
 the church. The whole neighbourhood said, 
 when they heard of this, that the Count de 
 Castelneau would marry for the sake of an heir ; 
 that he was a young man, and a handsome man, 
 and one that had loved, but too much, the society 
 of women. It was not likely, therefore, that he 
 would remain single: and everybody anticipated 
 that Annette de St. Morin would soon feel a 
 great difference in the conduct of her father 
 by adoption ; for that a new mistress would be 
 speedily given to that household of which she 
 had been hitherto the pride and delight. 
 
 The count, however, did not justify these 
 prognostications. Though he had abandoned 
 the church, he still retained, in all his garments. 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 135 
 
 the grave hue of its habiliments ; lived with in- 
 finite frugality and moderation, and showed a 
 great distaste to that which is commonly called 
 society. The Count de Castelneau might still 
 have retained possession of some of the rents 
 and revenues which he had derived from the 
 church, although he had freed himself from 
 his vows in all due form, as was but too fre- 
 quently the case in France at that time. He 
 did not think fit so to do, however, but paid 
 all his debts, and resigned every benefice, 
 abbey, and impropriation which had formed 
 the great bulk of his income before the death 
 of his uncle. In the management of his own 
 property he was liberal and charitable to 
 others, though sparing to himself; and, had he 
 sought for such honours, might have gained the 
 character of a saint. But of such a distinction 
 he was in no degree ambitious. 
 
 K 4 
 
136 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 
 Having traced the passing of the eighteen 
 years which we have mentioned, as far as in 
 their flight they influenced the situation of the 
 Abbe de Castehieau, we must now pause for a 
 short time to inquire into their effect upon 
 another of our characters ; though here the 
 subject is infinitely more delicate, and the in- 
 vestigation more obscure. 
 
 To examine into the tortuous ways of the 
 human heart — a labyrinth where darkness is 
 added to intricacy — is at the best a most difficult 
 task ; for where shall we find a clue, where a 
 light to guide us, where a voice to tell us at 
 eack step whether we are right or wrong ? But 
 to examine into the heart of a woman is a more 
 difficult undertaking still ; for the paths are finer 
 and less distinctly traced, and very, very often 
 even the owner of the place remains wilfully 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 137 
 
 ignorant of all the m^iny turnings and windings 
 of the way. Coarse hands can separate the 
 bundles of coarse twine; but it needs a fine 
 touch to divide the film of the silkworm, or to 
 discover the flaws of the diamond. Neverthe- 
 less it is a part of my appointed task to examine 
 the progress, and inquire into the character 
 and feelings, of her whom we must now call, as 
 her father by adoption had called her, Annette 
 de St. Morin. 
 
 We left her an infant; a very beautiful infant 
 truly ; full of engaging graces and sweet smiles, 
 overflowing with health and good temper. Tears 
 were great strangers in her eyes, even as a 
 child ; and, whatever she might carry out of the 
 world, or go through therein, she certainly 
 brought into it as great a fund of happy sen- 
 sations as ever infant was yet endowed with. 
 Human nature is so fond of happiness, that it 
 is scarcely possible to help loving any being 
 we see innocently happy. The reverse, indeed, 
 does not hold good, for the deepest and the 
 tenderest interest can be excited by the sight 
 of virtuous grief; but still there is something so 
 
138 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 engaging in happiness, that few hearts can 
 witness it without being attracted towards those 
 who possess it. Certain it is — whether by the 
 possession of this attractive power, or what other 
 quality, I know not — certain it is that Annette 
 de St. Morin, as an infant, engaged the hearts of 
 all those who surrounded her. We have already 
 mentioned the love which she excited in the 
 Abbe de Castelneau : — it was the same with the 
 good Donnine, it was the same with the old 
 lackey, and with every other person that ap- 
 proached her. This was the casein infancy; 
 and as time daily more and more developed 
 her graces, and opened new channels for her 
 sunshiny cheerfulness to display itself, — as she 
 learned to clap her little hands with joy when 
 any thing pleased her, to run from one fond 
 friend to another, and to speak broken words 
 with the sweet tongue of youth, — there came 
 melting sensations over hearts that had never 
 melted before, and feelings of tenderness that 
 set all cold philosophy at defiance. 
 
 She preserved all the beauties and the graces 
 with which she set out in life till she was about 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 139 
 
 seven years old ; and, during that period, she 
 went through all the ordinary diseases of child- 
 hood, showing in moments of suffering and 
 sickness the same imperturbable and happy 
 calm which we have before mentioned. She 
 might be languid with fever, but she was never 
 querulous or irritable : the lip might be parched 
 and the eye dull ; but there was always a smile 
 came up upon the face when her ear caught 
 the sounds of the voices that she loved. 
 
 When she was about seven years of age, she 
 began to lose the beauty which had distin- 
 guished her ; her features grew ill proportioned, 
 her face thin, her form lost the roundness of 
 childhood ; and though her eyes were still fine 
 and her hair beautiful, yet no one who did not 
 examine very closely perceived any promise of 
 after-loveliness. This state of transition con- 
 tinued for several years ; and at the time when 
 she arrived at the chateau of Castelneau many 
 of the ladies in the vicinity pronounced her an 
 ugly little girl, and, though they looked in vain 
 for any likeness between her and her adopted 
 father, yet argued strongly that she must be 
 
140 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 his own child, because otherwise he could take 
 no interest in one so devoid of beauty. 
 
 There was a change coming, however. Some 
 two years after, the complexion of Annette de 
 St. Morin began to resume the clear rosy 
 brightness which it had in her infancy. Her 
 form grew, not only tall and graceful, but 
 rounded in the most exquisite contour ; gra- 
 dually, year after year, her features became 
 finer, the whole arrangements of her counte- 
 nance more harmonious, her eyes retained 
 their brightness and their lustre, the lashes 
 that overshadowed them appeared longer and 
 darker and softer every day; and the lips, 
 which had always smiled sweetly, now became 
 full and rosy, with that exquisite bend which is 
 so rarely seen, except on the cold pale face of 
 the Grecian statue. The hand and the foot 
 remained small and symmetrical ; and it was 
 remarked, that, in whatever way they fell, the 
 lines they formed were all full of grace. Even 
 her hair, which was very luxuriant, though it 
 did not absolutely curl in large masses, except 
 when very long, yet had an irrepressible wave 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 141 
 
 which pervaded the whole, and caught the light 
 in glossy gleams wherever the sun fell upon it. 
 In short, she thus changed twice in those 
 eighteen years, from a lovely infant to a plain 
 child, and from a plain child to a most beautiful 
 woman. 
 
 Such had been the alterations of her person 
 during the period I have mentioned; and I 
 have spoken of them first, as less difficult to 
 deal with than her mind. But that mind went 
 on step by step, developing all its powers under 
 careful nurture. The course of education 
 to which the abbe subjected her was very 
 strange, when his circumstances and situation 
 are considered. It was not the education which 
 one would have expected from a man, a dissi- 
 pated man, a Frenchman, or a Roman Catholic. 
 In the first place, it was perfectly feminine : 
 there were none of those harsh studies in it 
 with which men, when intrusted with the 
 education of women, so often unsex them. 
 From the earliest age, he taught her the love of 
 truth and sincerity ; he implanted in her mind 
 that every thing was to be sacrificed to that; 
 he made it, in short, the first principle of her 
 
142 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 education. But he taught her, too, to be 
 gentle, and docile, and thoughtful for others. 
 He taught her to avoid all that might give 
 pain ; but v^^hat may seem stranger than all, is, 
 that he taught her these things all from one 
 source — The Book of our salvation. 
 
 In the course of so teaching her, he suffered 
 the cause of his anxiety to fill her mind with 
 the words of that book to appear on one or two 
 occasions. The first time that he did so was 
 when she was about ten years old, and he 
 found that something which she met with in 
 the history of the Saviour was too difficult for 
 her to comprehend. 
 
 " My dear child," said the abbe, " you 
 cannot understand it, and I do not expect you 
 to do so ; but I am giving these treasures to 
 vour heart, and not to your mind : your mind 
 will share in them hereafter. I wish them to 
 be part of your feelings, part of your existence, 
 the dowry of your spirit. I tell you, Annette, 
 that I would give willingly this right hand to 
 have received these words in youth through 
 the heart, rather than in manhood through the 
 understanding. For oh ! my sweet girl, after 
 
THE ANCIENT REGI3IE. 143 
 
 that heart has been hardened by the fierce fire 
 of the world, lue may be convinced ivithout Jaith, 
 and believe without feeling." 
 
 Upon this principle it was evident that he 
 acted; but there was nothing in the least 
 ascetic in his teaching, for it was all redolent 
 of that jo}^ and cheerfulness which breathes 
 from the Volume that he opened to her. In 
 short, he told her to be happy, and he taught 
 her how. 
 
 He added, moreover, every thing that could 
 give her the graces of society, and the highest 
 accomplishments that could be obtained. He 
 thought none of these things frivolous and light 
 when they did not interfere with higher things; 
 and he believed, nay, he knew, that they might 
 go hand in hand with the holiest thoughts. 
 He showed her, that every talent and endow- 
 ment possessed by man, whether corporeal or 
 mental, is the gift of God, and that it is one 
 part of the worship of God to cultivate and 
 employ those talents by every means that he 
 has placed within our power. " God has 
 forbidden excess," he said, " in any thing ; 
 
144 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 and he himself has told us those things 
 which in themselves are evil. Thus it would 
 be an impious arraignment of his providence 
 to say, that any of those things which he has 
 given, and not forbidden, may not be used in 
 moderation. The lark," he said, '' my child, 
 sings at the gate of heaven. Sing you also in 
 the happiness of your heart; and in so singing, 
 remember the God who made sweet sounds, and 
 who taught man to harmonise them, and to give 
 a finer voice to all the emotions of his mind. 
 The finger of God, too," he said, " is in all the 
 beautiful things of the world ; and when, with 
 the pencil, your hand traces them, my Annette, 
 you will not forget the hand that formed them. 
 Every enjoyment that is innocent and moderate 
 we may believe was given us expressly from 
 above ; and the test by which you should try 
 your enjoyments is by the prayer that you can 
 repeat after them. If, after any pleasure, you 
 can raise your voice to the Almighty with an 
 attentive and unwavering mind, you may feel 
 sure that your enjoyment lias been moderate. 
 If, with a knowledge of bis word, you can ask 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. J 45 
 
 him to bless you in such things, you may be 
 sure that your enjoyment has been good." 
 
 Such were the doctrines that he taught, and 
 such were the principles upon which he acted 
 towards his adopted child. It may be said, this 
 was a much better and more amiable man than 
 he has been represented in the beginning ; but 
 such is not the case. 1 have said that his cha- 
 racter was mingled of good and evil ; but his 
 love for that child separated the good from the 
 evil, and he gave all the better part to her. 
 
 Every advantage that any of the neigh- 
 bouring towns could afford was procured for 
 Annette with the most boundless generosity 
 by the abbe, after he became Count de Castel- 
 neau. Every skilful master that could be heard 
 of was called to the chateau to give her instruc- 
 tion in turn; and in the hours which were de- 
 voted to reading, the abbe, who was a man of 
 refined taste, made her acquainted with all that 
 was beautiful in the first writers in his own 
 and other countries. One thing, however, he 
 excluded entirely, which v/as that class of com- 
 position which was then generally called philoso- 
 
 VOL I. L 
 
146 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 phy. He said, that a man who had once drunk 
 of a cup of poison, and had suffered from the 
 consequences all his life, would never hold the 
 same to the lips of one he loved. 
 
 Conducted in this manner, we may easily 
 conceive what was the effect of education upon 
 a mind naturally full of high qualities, and en- 
 dowed with very great abilities of all kinds. 
 But there was one particular circumstance 
 which affected, in a marked and peculiar man- 
 ner, the character of Annette de St. Morin. 
 This was the state of comparative seclusi(n in 
 which she lived. The Count de Castelneau 
 courted not society ; and, indeed, during a great 
 part of the year there was but little to be found 
 in the neighbourhood of the chateau. The 
 metropolis, so to speak, had swallowed up, like 
 a great gulf, the nobility of France ; and few, 
 if any of the members of that body, spent more 
 than a month or two on their own estates. 
 When they did appear in the country, they 
 came with all the vices of a great city hot and 
 flagrant about them, and, consequently, they 
 were not very desirable companions either for 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 147 
 
 the count or his young charge. He took care, 
 however, that the tone of her manners should 
 be high and refined. She had the pohteness of 
 nature from gentleness of thought, and all 
 those graces of demeanour which cultivation 
 and refinement of mind can alone afford. But 
 still there was a difference between herself and 
 the general world of Paris. It was difficult 
 to discern in what that difference lay, and yet 
 it was very striking. It was, in truth, that she 
 thought for herself, and did not think only as 
 others thought. Of course, in very many re- 
 spects, her thoughts were, in substance, the 
 same as other people's ; but they suggested 
 themselves in different forms from those of 
 other people, and they continually presented 
 modes and expressions different from those 
 which other persons would have used. 
 
 The society which she did mingle with in the 
 neighbourhood, consisted of a few of the old 
 and respectable families of the province, in 
 some of whom poverty, and in some of whom 
 pride counteracted the attractions of the capital 
 and retained them in the country, where small 
 L 2 
 
148 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 means afforded all that was necessary, and 
 •where old blood and renowned ancestry were 
 sufficient to insure distinction. In Paris such 
 was not the case; there, even great wealth sunk 
 down to competence ; and old family and great 
 I'enown were only regarded as small adjuncts 
 to other more attractive qualities, and as no- 
 thing without them. 
 
 From time to time, too, the count visited 
 the town of Cahors, and took Annette de St. 
 Morin with him; and on those occasions — 
 generally some public event — the royal officers 
 of the province, and most of the other nobles, 
 even from considerable distances, visited the 
 town, and brought their families to grace the 
 meeting. 
 
 Thus Annette de St. Morin was not without 
 a thorough knowledge of all the forms and 
 manners of the world, and was fitted, in every 
 respect, to mingle gracefully with it, and to 
 play her part even with distinction. Still, how- 
 ever, the greater part of her time was passed 
 nearly in solitude ; for at the chateau of Castel- 
 neau a visit was a rare occurrence, and to dine 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 149 
 
 or sup out in the neighbourhood was an event 
 to be recorded in the history of the year. The 
 count, it is true, during the early part of her 
 life, devoted all the morning to teach and 
 educate her ; but after the hour of noon he 
 spent a considerable portion of the day alone, 
 and Annette was left to wander through the 
 neighbouring country and about the grounds 
 of the chateau as she thought fit. 
 
 Every one who has visited that part of 
 France must know that the vicinity of Castel- 
 neau is very beautiful, and the very fact of its 
 loveliness had a considerable effect upon her 
 mind. There can be no doubt, that upon the 
 impressions which we receive in youth, through 
 any of the senses, depend, in a great degree, 
 the tastes, if not the feelings, which form our 
 happiness or unhappiness in after years. Those 
 impressions sink more deeply into our hearts 
 than any others we ever receive. They are, as 
 it were, the mould from which the clay takes 
 its form while it is yet soft and unhardened by 
 the fire of the world; and thus it was that 
 Annette de St. Morin derived from the scenes 
 L 3 
 
150 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 in which she was accustomed to move peculiar 
 habits of feeling which affected the whole course 
 of her thoughts. Those thoughts were, if one 
 may so term it, picturesque. She loved all 
 that was beautiful, and great, and good ; but 
 there was a kind of enthusiastic eagerness in all 
 she did, which was certainly derived from the 
 grandeur and wildness of the scenery which 
 surrounded her in her early years. 
 
 Annette's mind was not one that dwelt much 
 upon lierself. She knew that she was beautiful ; 
 for it is scarcely possible to conceive a situation 
 in which that knowledge can be excluded from 
 a woman's heart, without gross and shameful 
 falsehood on the part of those who surround 
 her — but she knew not how beautiful, nor was 
 she vain of a quality which she estimated at 
 its due value and no more. She thought little 
 of it, in short ; and her mind scarcely rested 
 for a moment at a time upon a gift which she 
 felt was shared by every flower and every bird. 
 It was natural that — not living amongst people 
 with whom such things were of much conse- 
 quence, whom beauty did not attract, and whom 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 151 
 
 plainaess would not have repelled — it was 
 natural that she should not attach to personal 
 advantages that unreal worth which a vain 
 world in general accords to it. She knew not 
 that vice and folly would often be sought and 
 followed for the sake of beauty, where virtue 
 and wisdom would attract no attention or re- 
 spect. I have said she knew not, but I should 
 have said, she comprehended not ; for she had 
 read and heard that it was so, and, perhaps, 
 gave mere assent to the tale without bringing 
 the thing home to her own heart, for there is 
 a great difference between those three acts, 
 knowing, and comprehending, and feeling. Of 
 course, though she might have knowledge, she 
 had no experience ; and though she had prin- 
 ciples to guide her own conduct, she had no 
 data to judge of that of others. Her father, 
 hy adoption, had indeed taken pains to give 
 her some insight into the world's ways, yet 
 she had learnt the facts but as a lesson, with- 
 out any practical application thereof. She 
 often, indeed, was tempted into wild and vague 
 speculations as to what that great world really 
 L 4 
 
152 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 was which she heard so frequently talked of; 
 and as she walked by the banks of any of the 
 manifold rivers of that land of streams and 
 fountains, she would gaze thoughtfully upon 
 the waters, wishing that, like them, her mind 
 might flow on through all the thousand scenes 
 of bright nature and glad human life which 
 decorated their banks, and see that busy world 
 of action and endeavour which each town along 
 their course was certain to display. She would 
 picture to herself all that might then meet her 
 eye, and the many matters of deep interest 
 and curiosity which might be opened to her 
 sight. But then, again, a voice seemed to 
 whisper from within, that those waters could 
 not pass amidst the scenes of man's existence 
 without their brightness being troubled by im- 
 purity, till at length they would reach their con- 
 clusion in a turbid and a darksome stream — 
 that never could they turn back upon their 
 course, but must go onward for ever, bearing 
 with them every burden that was cast upon 
 them, and every fouler stream that was poured 
 in upon their once pure bosom. She shud- 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 153 
 
 dered as she thus thought, and the brief curi- 
 osity in which she had indulged passed away 
 like a dream. 
 
 This was not the only speculation, however, 
 with which she amused herself; for knowledge 
 without experience is ever visionary : but as she 
 walked in solitude through the woods and upon 
 the hills in the neighbourhood of Castelneau 
 during those hours which the count spent alone 
 in the chateau, thousands of bright fancies would 
 rise before her eyes, imaginations that would 
 have become hopes if they had had any tangible 
 object to fix upon. She would ask herself the 
 meaning of the gay lark's song ; she would give 
 a voice to the whispering of the wind; the 
 flowers would wake into life under her eyes, 
 and act their parts in dramas of her own 
 creation. These things grew upon her in her 
 sixteenth, seventeenth, and her eighteenth year; 
 but a time was rapidly coming when visions 
 were to give place to realities, and her heart 
 was taught to speak instead of her imagination. 
 
154 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 CHAP. X. '^ 
 
 The chateau of Castelneau still presents towers, 
 and ramparts, and bastions of great antiquity, 
 or at least it did so twenty years ago ; but at 
 the more remote period of which I speak, the 
 building was in full preservation, and in ex- 
 ternal form retained all the peculiarities of the 
 age in which it was built, though the interior 
 had been modernised and fitted up with the 
 luxurious extravagance of the reign of Louis 
 XV. Within the walls of the chateau were 
 no less than three large courts, separated from 
 each other by massy piles of building, con- 
 taining long and rambling corridors and ex- 
 tensive halls, with innumerable smaller cham- 
 bers scattered here and there, with much space 
 wasted, but with no small economy of light. 
 Besides these masses of building, and the vast 
 circuit of walls and towers that surrounded 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 155 
 
 them and united them together, were several 
 large square edifices detached from the rest of 
 the castle, or only united to it, either by a sort 
 of covered bridge high up in the air, or a pas- 
 sage cut through the rock beneath, and issuing 
 forth from those apartments, which, in the 
 modern arrangements that had been made in 
 the castle were appropriated to butlers, cooks, 
 and serving men. Though the mole-like pro- 
 cess of proceeding under the earth gives an 
 idea of mystery and darkness to our minds in 
 the present day, when we are all together what 
 may be called an upstairs world, yet to the 
 servants of the chateau of Castelneau the matter 
 had become so familiar, that they passed through 
 a subterranean passage, which v/ould have fur- 
 nished the highest enjoyment to one of the 
 votaries of Udolpho, as calmly and coolly as 
 we go from one ordinary room to another. Not- 
 withstanding the antiquity of the chateau itself, 
 by some extraordinary forgetfulness on the part 
 of its inhabitants, it was unprovided even with 
 a ghost. The eastern tower itself possessed 
 some of the most cheerful apartments in the 
 
156 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 whole building ; and that face of the chateau 
 which looked towards the south contained se- 
 veral of the most gay and smiling halls that the 
 arts of any period could have devised, with 
 deep oriel windows, in the recesses of which the 
 sunshine loved to linger and draw patterns on 
 the oaken floor. In short, many parts of the 
 castle afforded as bright and pleasant a habita- 
 tion as it was possible for man to desire ; and 
 the number of servants and retainers usually 
 kept up therein filled it so full of human life, 
 that every thing like the appearance of solitude 
 was banished from its precincts. 
 
 The neighbourhood, indeed, though the land 
 is most Vv'arm and sunny, had somewhat of the 
 wild and the sublime in its general aspect. It 
 retains more than any other part of France 
 that I have visited that feudal colouring, if I 
 may so term it, which leads the mind back at 
 once to early and more simple times. There 
 are manifold woods and streams, wide forests, 
 deep vallies, fountains innumerable. Nor are 
 these last alone the sources of small rills, that 
 spring in a jet of silver from the bank, and 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 157 
 
 flow on, soon losing themselves in some greater 
 body of water ; but in some parts of that dis- 
 trict, rivers burst at once from the green turf 
 in the midst of the forest, issuing from a depth 
 that no one as yet has been able to fathom. 
 The houses of the peasantry, however lowly, 
 have a neatness about them which speaks of 
 natural taste : there is a love of flowers, and a 
 fondness for bright, but harmonious, colours, 
 which smacks of a peculiar sort of poetry of the 
 mind; and the very jargon of the peasantry is 
 sweet and softened, however incorrect, giving 
 proof of an ear highly sensible to musical 
 sounds. Here, indeed, was spoken in former 
 times, in great purity, the soft Langue d'Oc, un- 
 doubtedly one of the most harmonious tongues 
 of modern Europe ; and there is a charm in that 
 harmony of language, in its connection with 
 the imagination, at which reason and philosophy 
 is sometimes indignant. Many a very sensible 
 and clever man has puzzled himself to divine 
 how it is that the songs of the Troubadours, 
 though very much inferior in reason and in wit 
 to the compositions of their more northern 
 
158 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 neighbours, the Trouveres, have obtained a 
 much higlier reputation, and still retain their 
 hold upon the public mind. There may be 
 many causes for this fact, but one of those 
 causes undoubtedly is, the superior harmony of 
 the Langue d'Oc over the Langue cVOiL 
 
 However that may be, every thing around 
 Figeac and its neighbourhood spoke not alone 
 of the early days of the good olden time, but of 
 early days in their brightest aspect — ■ early 
 days in their sunshine and calmness ; for, alas ! 
 those early feudal days had also their clouds 
 and their storms. The people of the district 
 were not numerous, but food was plenty amongst 
 them, and therefore they might well be con- 
 tented; for although plenty will not always 
 produce content, yet very seldom, if ever, is 
 content found without it. Neither was the 
 population very thin : there were few moors or 
 wastes of any kind, though the woodlands were 
 extensive ; but those woodlands, it must be 
 recollected, were amongst the richest districts 
 of the province. In the skirts of the forests, 
 however, as well as in other places, were 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 159 
 
 numerous villages and hamlets, and often in 
 the heart of the wood itself appeared a neat 
 cottage, always placed in the best and most 
 picturesque situation on the top of some high 
 bank, or on the slope of some gentle hill, where 
 the advantages of air, and shelter, and dryness 
 were all combined. No bad indication of the 
 character of the peasantry of any particular 
 country is to be found in the situation of the 
 hamlets and cottages ; and in these respects the 
 positions chosen by the people in that neigh- 
 bourhood harmonised well with their ordinaiy 
 tastes and feelings. 
 
 The soil in general was dry and wholesome, 
 and that part which was given up to the pro- 
 duction of timber was generally the broken 
 ground which it would have been difficult to 
 reduce to form and shape by any effort of the 
 ploughshare. No regularity had prevailed in 
 the art of planting during those remote cen- 
 turies when the seeds of the oaks and beeches 
 that grew around Castelneau were sown — if 
 indeed the woods themselves were not remnants 
 of the old primeval forests which once covered 
 
IGO THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 the whole face of the country — and thus the 
 greatest picturesque beauty was to be found in 
 the forest ground. The rest of the land, it 
 is true, was very beautiful also; but often from 
 the edges of the wood were to be seen bright 
 glimpses of the open country, mingling with 
 the fringe of oreen trees that skirted the 
 hills and combining many sorts of natural 
 beauty in one. The climate, too, in that part 
 of France, is peculiarly fine ; and although so 
 many rivers and springs appear in every direc- 
 tion, very little rain falls, and the heavy clouds 
 that sometimes gather round float slowly past 
 to higher regions, and pour their showers upon 
 the tops of the distant mountains. It thus be- 
 comes a land of gleams, where the sunshine and 
 the shadow seem constantly playing with each 
 other, and running bright races over the green 
 hill sides. 
 
 Amongst such scenes were passed the years 
 of Annette de St. Morin, from the time she was 
 ten years of age till the time she was eighteen; 
 and, as I have stated before, those gleams, 
 and woods, and hills, and vallies, and bright 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 161 
 
 Streams, had no unimportant part in her educa- 
 tion. They fixed her tastes, and even in some 
 degree formed her character. 
 
 Few of the chateaus in the neighbourhood 
 of that of Castelneau were inhabited. Many 
 were in ruins; and the two nearest houses 
 which dignified themselves with such a title, 
 and were yet tenanted by any thing better than 
 bats and owls, lay at the distance of morf» tlmii 
 five miles from it and from each other. One 
 of these was situated not far from the banks of 
 the Lot, and was in every respect very different 
 from the chateau of Castelneau. It had been 
 built by a marquis, in the latter part of the reign 
 of Louis XIV., and had been embellished by 
 his successor under the regency. The genealo- 
 gical tree of the family was said not to be one 
 of the tallest in the forest, though the branches 
 had become very numerous of late years ; nor 
 were the roots supposed to be very pure, at 
 least no one had ever clearly ascertained into 
 what soil they shot. The chateau itself was 
 exactly what might be expected from the age in 
 which it was built, and the person who built it. 
 
 VOL. I. M 
 
162 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 It was all glass within and without. The 
 windows were like what are termed goggle eyes, 
 much too large, in short, for the size of the place. 
 There were also a great number too many 
 for the small masses of masonry that supported 
 them ; and to make these masses look the more 
 flimsy, the skilful artist had not contented him- 
 self till he had covered them with plaster pa- 
 nels and arahpsqnes. Tall stone pinnacles and 
 balls covered the tops of each of the piers ; a 
 whole host of Cupids had been squandered 
 upon different parts of the stone-work, and 
 innumerable baskets of flowers afforded the 
 little god of love something to do. The house 
 was seated upon a raised platform, and every 
 means was employed by manifold flights of 
 shallow steps to weary the visiter in approach- 
 ing the dwelling of the Marquis de Cajare. 
 
 The interior resembled the outside in orna- 
 ment and decoration. There was not a panel 
 without some painting upon it, not in the best 
 taste in the world; and the ceilings and stair- 
 cases were filled with Neptunes and Apollos, 
 Cupids and Venuses, Tritons and Nereids. 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 163 
 
 Manifold looking-glasses ornamented the walls, 
 and the columns that supported the ceilings 
 were fluted with blue glass. In the winter- 
 time the house would have been intolerably 
 cold; but it was only during about three months 
 in the very height of summer that the marquis 
 and the marquise, after having talked to every 
 body in Paris of their chateau on the Lot, 
 came down, with a select few of their acquaint- 
 ances, to languish through the space allotted to 
 a dull country life. 
 
 The family of the marquis consisted of him- 
 self and his wife, one son and one daughter. 
 The latter was somewhat older than Annette 
 de St. Morin ; handsome, too, and not without 
 a certain degree of cleverness, but full of frivo- 
 lity, conceit, and pretension. She had thus all 
 the qualities requisite to attract the admiration 
 of the youth of Paris ; and people were begin- 
 ning to marvel that Mademoiselle de Cajare, 
 now approaching her twentieth year, had not 
 formed some splendid alliance. However, 
 things in general were managed in Paris at 
 that time in a very different manner from the 
 M 2 
 
164 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 arrangements of the present day. The young 
 lady had little or nothing to do in the affair 
 but to submit, and all the other particulars 
 v>'ere arranged between her parents and the 
 person to be coupled to herself for life, or, 
 more often still, between them and his parents. 
 This, indeed, was not always the case; for there 
 never yet was a time — either in France or 
 any other country — in which love-matches 
 were not occasionally made, as is shown by the 
 very distinction drawn in the language between 
 the mariage d'amour, and the mariage de con- 
 venance. 
 
 It may be supposed, then, that in the society 
 in which Mademoiselle de Cajare moved, the 
 mariage de coiwenance was much more customary 
 than any other sort of alliance ; and it began 
 to be rumoured in the circles of Paris, that the 
 marquis himself had not been so explicit in 
 naming the dowry of his daughter as was de- 
 sirable to the young gallanis of the capital. 
 Yet he lived in the highest and most profuse 
 style ; and his son, who was serving with the 
 army on the Rhine, never found any want of 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 165 
 
 means to gratify whatever wliim or caprice 
 might come into the head of a spoilt child of 
 fortune. 
 
 The marquis himself was every thing that 
 had been the pink of perfection some thirty 
 years before. He was, consequently, some- 
 what out of date, according to the manners of 
 the day ; and his graces had a degree of stiff- 
 ness which occasionally excited the merriment 
 of the degagee youth which filled the saloons 
 of the metropolis. The marquise was what 
 the people of her own time called a sweet, in- 
 teresting woman, as heartless as it was possible 
 to conceive, and of course as selfish. She had 
 a certain sort of common sense, or rather, I 
 should say, discernment, about her, which 
 made her perceive when she first set out in 
 life, some six or seven and twenty years before, 
 that as she had not enough ready wit to be 
 piquante, she must assume the interesting and 
 sentimental ; and this having become her habi- 
 tual style, she continued to languish and to 
 sigh, and to look tender and beseeching, till 
 all her charms began perceptibly to pass away, 
 M 3 
 
166 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 and the necessity of giving them a little height- 
 ening became more and more apparent every 
 day. She took the hint which her looking- 
 glass afforded ; superinduced additional portions 
 of red or white, in various places, as the case 
 required; arranged the eyebrows with the nicest 
 care, and added a lock here and there amongst 
 her hair, where ''time, who steals our years 
 away," had stolen her tresses too. 
 
 Such was one of the chateaux in the neigh- 
 bourhood of Castelneau, and such was the 
 family to which it belonged. There was an- 
 other, however, at about the same distance in 
 a different direction. It was situated in that 
 higher, if not more mountainous district about 
 Fons and St. Medard, and was as much the re- 
 verse of the chateau of Cajare in its site and 
 appearance, as in the character of it? inhabit- 
 ants. In the jargon of the country it was 
 called Castel Nogent, and the name of the 
 gentleman who inhabited it was the Baron de 
 Nogent. He was at this time an old man, but 
 older indeed in appearance than in reality, for 
 care had had its hand upon him as well as time. 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 167 
 
 His hair was as white as snow, and his figure, 
 which had once been tall and powerful, was 
 now thin and somewhat bent He was not, 
 however, more than sixty years of age; and his 
 countenance, though worn and somewhat pale, 
 bore a noble and lofty look; but withal there 
 was an expression of melancholy, nay, of almost 
 hopelessness, about it, which was permanent, 
 mingling with every other expression — even 
 with a smile. 
 
 The chateau was one of the old dwelling- 
 houses of the country, not of so antique a date, 
 indeed, as that of Castelneau, but still carrying 
 its origin back for many centuries, and built 
 upon the foundations of an older mansion, all 
 record of the erection of which was lost in the 
 lapse of time. It was not nearly so large as 
 the chateau of Castelneau, and indeed never 
 had been, but still it was a large building, and 
 would have afforded ample accommodation for 
 a numerous family and a splendid train. By 
 such, however, it was not tenanted ; for the 
 baron himself had seen his wife — whom ne 
 had wedded from pure affection, and had never 
 M 4 
 
168 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 ceased to love — wither away ere she had been 
 his more than four years, leaving him not 
 exactly alone, for he had one son, but solitary 
 in heart, and depressed by manifold misfor- 
 tunes. The train of the baron, too, was very 
 small ; for his father had made great sacrifices 
 for his king and for his country, and had, of 
 course, met with neither reward nor remuner- 
 ation. Tlie baron also had suffered severe 
 losses of property from accidental causes; and 
 the chateau, not being half filled, was falling in 
 some parts into decay. 
 
 The scenery round it was very beautiful, 
 full of woods, and rocks, and streams ; and, in 
 a part which had been formerly reserved as a 
 hunting park for the chateau itself, rose one 
 cf the heads of the small river Cere, rushing 
 at once from a deep basin in the rock in a jet 
 of nearly four feet in diameter. 
 
 The Abbe de Castelneau, as soon as he as- 
 sumed the title of count, and took possession 
 of the castles and estates, was immediately 
 visited in great state by all the gentry of the 
 neighbourhood, with the exception of the Baron 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 169 
 
 de Noffent. With ^rave and deliberate slow- 
 ness he returned those visits, affording no 
 great encouragement either by his words or 
 manner to any attempt at intimacy. He 
 waited for some time for the baron's call ; but 
 as that nobleman did not appear, he proceeded 
 in his old postchaise, drawn by the two mules, 
 for which he retained an unwavering regard, 
 to visit his solitary neighbour. The baron 
 received him without any appearance of dis- 
 comfort or surprise, but also without any show 
 of pleasure. 
 
 " Monsieur de Nogent," said the count, " we 
 of Castelneau and you of Nogent have been 
 friends for two hundred years, and perhaps 
 longer — I see not why, it should not be so still." 
 
 "There is but one reason, count," replied 
 the baron — " the house of Castelneau is rich, 
 the house of Nogent is poor, and they meet 
 not upon the same terms as in other days." 
 
 " If riches could make any difference in 
 regard, sir," replied the count, "friendship 
 would be a thing not worth the trouble of 
 coming two leagues from Castelneau to seek. 
 
170 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 I have sliovvn you that I value it more highly 
 than you seem to do : if you do not really 
 hold it lightly, you will come to Castelneau in 
 return." 
 
 The baron smiled faintly. *' I do not hold 
 it lightly, indeed," he replied ; " and since 
 such are your feelings, Monsieur de Castelneau, 
 I will, of course, return your visit with plea- 
 sure. But I have so long avoided all society, 
 from causes too painful for me to enter into, 
 that I fear you will find but a dull and cheer- 
 less neighbour, though not from estimating 
 friendship at a low rate, or undervaluing high 
 abilities when I meet with them." 
 
 Some farther conversation took place, and 
 the count inquired after the baron's son, whom 
 he remembered a beautiful boy some ten or 
 twelve years before. 
 
 " He is now," replied the baron, " one of 
 the king's pages, and I hope ere another year 
 be over, to hear that he is serving his country 
 in the field." 
 
 The count wished the young gentleman suc- 
 cess ; and after remaining a reasonable time. 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 171 
 
 in order to suffer all strangeness to wear off, he 
 took his leave, and returned to the chateau of 
 Castelneau. His visit called forth another im- 
 mediately from the baron, who spoke and acted 
 with less reserve than he had previously done, 
 and mentioned his intention of proceeding very 
 soon to Paris, in order to see his son equipped 
 for the army. 
 
 Not long after, the Count de Castelneau 
 proceeded to the town of Cahors for som^ time, 
 to settle various matters of business connected 
 with the inheritance which had just fallen to 
 him. He took Annette with him; and on 
 their return, he found that the Baron de No- 
 gent and his son had called during their ab- 
 sence. He immediately returned their visit 
 without a moment's loss of time ; but he found 
 the old nobleman now alone, his son having 
 returned to Paris in order to join the army. 
 
 From that time forth the years slipped by 
 without any incident of importance chequering 
 the intercourse between the Baron de Nogent 
 and the Count de Castelneau. They met some- 
 times twice, sometimes three times in the course 
 
172 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 of each year, but not oftener; and towards the 
 latter end of the eighteen years of which we 
 have lately been speaking, when the baron 
 visited the chateau of Castelneau, his eyes 
 would frequently rest for a moment or two 
 upon the beautiful countenance of Annette de 
 St. Morin, with a look of thoughtful inquiry, as 
 if something puzzled him and set his mind 
 busily to work. 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 173 
 
 CHAP. XL 
 
 As each human heart is a world in itself, and 
 we have in this book more than one heart to 
 deal with, it would take a whole constellation 
 of such books to describe with any degree of 
 minuteness and precision all the different points 
 and particulars of the characters we have had 
 under review, and the changes which took place 
 therein in the space of the eighteen years so 
 frequently referred to. We have done our best, 
 however, in a short space, to give some idea of 
 the characters of the Count of Castelneau and 
 his adopted child Annette de St. Morin, to- 
 gether with a general view of the circumstances 
 which surrounded them ; and however imper- 
 fectly all this may have been accomplished, it 
 is time that we should proceed to make the 
 personages speak and act for themselves. 
 
 We have told the generous reader — wlio is 
 
174 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 quite willing to believe that every thing we do 
 tell him is true — that during the three or four 
 hours in the middle of the day which the 
 Count de Castelneau thought fit to spend alone 
 in solitary thought, Mademoiselle de St. Morin 
 would wander forth through the bright scenery 
 in the neighbourhood. During these excur- 
 sions she was sometimes on horseback, fol- 
 lowed by numerous attendants — for although 
 the count was so simple in all his own habits, 
 he never suffered her to want any of the out- 
 ward appearances of rank and high station — 
 but often on foot, and then, generally unaccom- 
 panied. She was fond of indulging her own 
 thoughts; and, though sometimes the sunny 
 side of the breezy hill would fill her with high 
 spirits, and tempt her to gallop her fleet Li- 
 mousin jennet for many a mile over the broken 
 turf, yet, towards eighteen years of age, she ge- 
 nerally returned ere long to the more thought- 
 ful mood, and whiled away the hours with 
 fancies of her own. It may be asked, what 
 were those fancies ? I cannot tell : nor could 
 she herself have told. All the small particulars 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 175 
 
 that she knew of the world, and of nature, and 
 of her own heart, danced in the light of a happy 
 mind like motes in a ray of sunshine. Each 
 glittered as it passed through the beam, dis- 
 appeared, and was forgotten; but others still 
 succeeded, and all derived brilliance from the 
 cheerful ray through which they floated, so long 
 as they were within its influence. 
 
 There might be, at those times, within that 
 young bosom the wish to be beloved by some 
 kindred spirit, filled with bright thoughts and 
 high aspirations like her own. Such things 
 might well and naturally be in her heart ; for 
 it had been a principle of him who had taught 
 her all which she knew, to set her the ex- 
 ample of that truth which he required from 
 her, and to deceive her in nothing. He strove, 
 to the very best of his power, to give to all 
 things their right estimate; and he sought 
 not in any degree to conceal from her that love 
 was before her as an inevitable part of her 
 destiny, a thing that was to form an epoch in 
 her existence, though not to absorb within 
 itself the thoughts and feelings of her life. He 
 
176 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 guarded her mind from dwelling upon that idea, 
 it is true, by supplying her with plenty of other 
 matter for thought ; but still youth, and nature, 
 and all those sweet and bright, but vague and 
 shadowy, hopes, which form the atmosphere of 
 love, might well have place within her breast. 
 
 She was thus one day wandering on, at the 
 distance of a few miles from the chateau of 
 Castelneau, when feeling somewhat weary with 
 the warmth of a bright day in the end of May, 
 she sat down to rest on a cushion of green 
 moss that rose round the silvery roots of a tall 
 beech tree in the woods. At the distance of 
 perhaps twenty yards from where she sat was 
 a small, narrow, sandy road, leading through 
 the woods from Maridal to Figeac ; and, flowing 
 along, on the other side of the road, was a 
 bright clear stream, which a few miles farther 
 on plunged into the Lot. The beech tree 
 was one of peculiar beaut}^, with long bend- 
 ing arms dropping over the ground below, 
 as if to canopy that mossy cushion from the 
 sun ; and, up behind again, sipped far away the 
 green bank, studded here and there with old 
 
THE AXCIENT REGIME. 177 
 
 trees casting deep shadows round them, but 
 leaving bright gleams of sunshine upon the 
 more open expanse of forest turf. On the right, 
 about twenty yards from the spot where Annette 
 sat, and at the same distance from the road, 
 was an old Gothic cross with a Latin inscription 
 upon it, and at its foot appeared a fountain in a 
 stone basin, richly ornamented by some hand 
 which had long been dust. 
 
 I have dwelt on the description of this scene 
 for many reasons, but for none more than 
 because in it occurred more than one event 
 aflPecting the happiness of Annette de St. Morin. 
 Thus often does it happen in the strange mys- 
 terious existence of man, that certain spots seem 
 to have a fate attached to them, sometimes as 
 the scenes of those greater events that affect 
 nations and worlds, sometimes only as the 
 places where occurrences, marking the particu- 
 lar destiny of individuals, happen from time to 
 time. How many a field of battle has seen 
 various contending armies pass over them at far 
 remote periods — how many houses and palaces 
 contain within them the record of many a great 
 
 VOL. I. N 
 
178 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 and terrible event. How often does it happen 
 to us individually, that on the same spot, v^^here 
 the course of our existence has once been 
 changed by some of the great marking occur- 
 rences of life, we have again and again met with 
 change of fortune for good or for evil. 
 
 Annette de St. Morin sat there and mused ; 
 and if any thing at that time in the whole 
 expanse of her sunny mind could bear the 
 name of gloom, we might say that she was 
 more melancholy than usual. The subject of 
 her thoughts was serious. As she looked at the 
 bright stream that flowed by her, it presented 
 to her mind — as the rippling course of a river 
 has naturally done to almost every one when 
 gazing on it intently — an image of human life ; 
 and the bright waters, as they flowed by her, 
 seemed to carry on her thoughts into the future. 
 What was to be her own fate and destiny ? she 
 asked herself; where the dark and unseen end 
 of that existence, which now passed as brightly 
 and peacefully as the sparkling waters before 
 her eyes? Then again her mind turned to 
 the past ; and like one gazing up towards the 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 179 
 
 top of a mountain, she could trace step by 
 step the way back towards infancy, where gra- 
 dually all minute objects were blended together, 
 and the eyes of memory rested at last upon a 
 faint blue point scarcely distinguishable from 
 the sky. 
 
 As she was thus thinking, perhaps asking her 
 own heart who were her parents, what her fate 
 by birth, and what her previous history, the 
 noise of wheels, and the voice of a driver en- 
 couraging his horses, were heard at some little 
 distance in the wood. Those sounds roused 
 Annette from her reverie, but did not in any 
 degree scare or alarm her. All was so peaceful 
 in the country round ; violence and wrong w^re 
 so seldom heard of in that district, that she 
 entertained no apprehension of any kind, and 
 only drawing the veil, which was over her head, 
 somewhat more closely round her face, she sat 
 still while the carriage came slowly forward, 
 watching it with some degree of interest as it 
 approached. 
 
 It was a plain but handsome vehicle, ac- 
 cording to the fashion of that day, with tn^I 
 N 2 
 
180 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 flat sides and a moulding at the top; and it 
 was drawn, as was then customary, by four 
 horses, driven by one coachman ; but what was 
 somewhat strange for a vehicle of that kind, no 
 lackey appeared, either beside the driver or at 
 the back of the carriage. The sandiness of the 
 road seemed the cause of the slowness of its 
 progression, for the vehicle was weighty, and 
 the wheels sunk deep in the soft ground. The 
 horses, however, were strong, and appeared 
 quite able to draw it to the firmer road which 
 lay about a mile farther on ; but just as the 
 carriage was passing the spot where Annette 
 sat, a gentleman put his head out of the win- 
 dow, and bade the coachman stop and let the 
 horses rest a while. 
 
 The driver immediately obeyed, and dis- 
 mounted from his box ; and the gentleman 
 who had spoken opened the door of the car- 
 riage and got out. Had he been a young man, 
 or a man of a gay aspect, Annette de St. Morin 
 might have felt inclined to rise and wend her 
 way homeward; but such was not at all the 
 case, and she remained quietly seated where 
 
TPIE ANCIENT REGIME. ISl 
 
 she was, thinking that in a minute or two the 
 vehicle would move on. 
 
 The gentleman who had descended from the 
 carriage seemed to be between forty and fifty 
 years of age, but nearer to the latter than the 
 former period : he was tall, well proportioned, 
 and graceful, but his hair, which had once been 
 very dark, was thickly mingled with grey. His 
 countenance was good, and not gloomy, though 
 thoughtful ; and his dress, which was black, 
 was of the best materials, and made in the best 
 fashion. As soon as he had set his foot to the 
 ground, he offered his hand to a lady who was 
 within, and who likewise descended from the 
 vehicle. She was considerably younger than 
 himself, apparently about five or six and thirty 
 years of age ; and as Annette's eyes rested 
 upon her, she thought that she had never 
 beheld a more interesting being. She was still 
 very beautiful, though the first graces of youth 
 were past ; and there was an expression of 
 sadness on her countenance, which, though it 
 could not exactly be said to harmonise with the 
 style of her features, was perhaps the more 
 N 3 
 
182 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 touching from appearing on a face well cal- 
 culated to express gay and joyous lightness of 
 heart. 
 
 The lady spoke a few words to the gentle- 
 man beside her, which Annette did not hear, 
 and the eyes of both fixed for a moment upon 
 Mademoiselle de St. Morin. As they saw, 
 however, that she averted her face and made 
 a movement as if to rise and depart, they both 
 turned towards the fountain and the cross, and 
 the lady knelt before the latter, and appeared 
 to repeat a prayer. The gentleman had turned 
 round twice to look at Annette; and in the 
 mean time a second lady, extremely well dressed, 
 but by no means bearing the distinguished air 
 of the other, had come forth from the carriage, 
 and was gazing likewise at the fair girl who was 
 seated on the bank. 
 
 This double scrutiny somewhat discomposed 
 Mademoiselle de St. Morin, and she now rose 
 for the purpose of returning to the chateau ; 
 but at that moment the gentleman approached 
 her with rapid steps, and bowing low, with an 
 uncovered head, he said, " I beg a thousand 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 183 
 
 pardons for interrupting you ; but allow me to 
 ask, if, in passing along this road, we do not 
 go very near to the fine old chateau of Castel- 
 neau." 
 
 There was something so respectful and cour- 
 teous in the gentleman's tone, that if Annette 
 had felt any thing like annoyance at being 
 gazed at, it passed away immediately, and she 
 replied with a smile, "You go directly before 
 the gates on the way to Figeac. In fact, you 
 can go no other way." 
 
 " Can you tell me," continued the gentleman, 
 looking back to the lady who had now finished 
 her prayer and was approaching — " Can you tell 
 me if strangers may be permitted to see the 
 interior of it without disturbing the family, 
 which I believe is numerous?" 
 
 " Nay, you are mistaken," answered Annette ; 
 " the family is any thing but numerous, con- 
 sisting only of the count and Mademoiselle de 
 St. Morin." 
 
 " Mademoiselle de St. Morin," said the gen- 
 tleman again, *' is, I think " 
 
 " A ward of the Count dc Castelneau," re- 
 N 4 
 
184 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 plied Annette; "but I must not let you go on 
 farther," she added : " I am Annette de St. 
 Morin." 
 
 The lady who had been kneeling before the 
 cross had, during the latter part of this brief 
 dialogue, come close to the speakers ; and An- 
 nette, though looking principally towards the 
 person who addressed her, had remarked a 
 strange degree of agitation in his female com- 
 panion. She was not a little surprised and 
 confounded, however, when, at the words she 
 had last spoken, the lady — giving w^ay to some 
 internal emotion, which seemed suddenly to 
 overpowTr all her efforts to resist it — cast 
 herself upon Annette's neck, and kissing her 
 again and again, mingled her caresses with 
 many tears, in which joy and sorrow had both 
 evidently a part. 
 
 In vain the gentleman who accompanied 
 her laid his hand upon her arm, saying, " Re- 
 member, oh, remember !" and the other lady 
 coming up, exclaimed, " Have a care, dear 
 madam, have a care." The lady's emotions 
 were evidently not to be restrained; and she 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 185 
 
 wept upon Annette's bosom, sobbing as if her 
 heart would break, and from time to time 
 pressing her lips upon her cheek and upon 
 her brow. Then again she would dash the 
 drops from her eyes, and gaze in the young 
 lady's face, and then would burst into tears, 
 and lean her head upon her shoulder. On 
 her part, as may well be supposed, Annette 
 was agitated as well as surprised. She knew 
 not, she could not divine what was the cause 
 of the emotion that she beheld ; but yet there 
 was something in that lady's look, and tone, 
 and manner, which wakened strange feelings in 
 her heart — feelings of tenderness, and interest, 
 and affection, which she could not account for: 
 and, greatly moved herself, all she could say 
 was, " What is it ? Pray tell me, what is it ? 
 What is the meaning of all this?" 
 
 Nobody answered her for some time; while the 
 gentleman whispered a fev^ words from time to 
 time to the lady, who was thus strangely agitated, 
 and endeavoured gently to draw her away. At 
 length, however, he said, in reply to Annette's 
 repeated question, " You are very like this 
 
186 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 lady's daughter, mademoiselle, whose name 
 was Annette also, so that the sight of you and 
 the sound of that name have troubled her a 
 little. She seems to forget, for the time, that 
 you are not the young lady she lost. She will 
 be better in a moment or two, and then will 
 be sorry for having agitated you." 
 
 Annette looked at the lady's dress ; and 
 though that of the gentleman might certainly 
 pass for mourning, his fair companion was 
 habited in all the bright and delicate colours 
 which were then fashionable in the Parisian 
 world. There was not much time, however, 
 for observation, for the lady now seemed to re- 
 cover herself; and gazing upon Annette with 
 a look of sad but deep interest, she said in a 
 tone of greater composure, 1 beg your pardon, 
 young lady, I fear I have agitated you. You 
 look like one that is very happy, and I pray to 
 God that you may never know unhappiness." 
 
 " I am very happy," replied Annette, " and 
 I can scarcely foresee any thing that should 
 make me unhappy, for I have the kindest and 
 the best of guardians, who leaves nothing un- 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 187 
 
 done to insure my present and my future hap- 
 piness." 
 
 " Is he kmd to you?" exclaimed the lady 
 eagerly. " Is he kind to you ? Then may God 
 of heaven bless him ! — may Heaven bless," 
 she added more composedly, " every one v/ho 
 is kind to those who are placed under their 
 charge ! " 
 
 As she thus spoke, the gentleman again 
 whispered something to her, and seemed to 
 urge her eagerly, for she replied, at length, 
 " Well, well, I will come — but remember, it 
 is but a moment out of a life ;" and again turn- 
 ing to Annette, she added, " Forgive me, sweet 
 girl, if I have frightened and agitated you : we 
 shall meet again, I trust, some time, even in this 
 world, so pray remember me." 
 
 " I will, indeed, dear lady," replied Annette; 
 " but by what name can I remember you ?" 
 
 The gentleman held up his finger to her, as 
 if to beg her to ask no questions ; and the lady, 
 after gazing in her face earnestly, once more 
 embraced her, kissing her cheek again and again. 
 Then turning away with bitter tears, shf^ re- 
 
]S8 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 entered the carriage, merely murmuring the 
 words, " Adieu, adieu ! " The other lady then 
 kissed Annette's cheek likewise, saying in a low 
 tone, " You may some day know more;" and 
 the gentleman returning from the side of the 
 carriage bade her adieu respectfully ere he 
 withdrew. 
 
 When he had handed in the last of the two 
 ladies, Annette was not a little surprised to 
 hear him turn to the coachman and say, as if 
 he were thoroughly acquainted with every step 
 of the country round, " As soon as you have 
 passed the castle gates, take the second broad 
 road to the left, and go on as fast as you can 
 till you reach the town of Maur." 
 
 Thus saying, he sprang into the vehicle, shut 
 the door behind him, and the coachman driving 
 on, the whole party were soon out of sight. 
 Annette walked slowly back to the chateau, to 
 tell the Count of Castelneau what had oc- 
 curred; but to her surprise she found, that, 
 contrary to his usual habits, he had gone out 
 on horseback in the middle of the day, and 
 had not even said when he would return. 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 189 
 
 CHAP. XII. 
 
 It was many hours before the count returned 
 to the chateau ; when he did so, he entered the 
 room where Annette was sitting with his usual 
 calm and sedate step, and with a brow on v>hich 
 it was scarcely possible to perceive that there was 
 any emotion, either angry, sorrowful, or joyous. 
 As much as he ever smiled, he smiled on greeting 
 the child of his adoption ; but as soon as he had 
 seated himself, he despatched the servant, who 
 threw open the door of the saloon for him, to sum- 
 mon the porter of the great gates to his presence. 
 The count had passed the man as he entered ; 
 and the summons seemed to him so strange, 
 and was so unusual, that though his master was 
 kind and placable, he turned somewhat pale at 
 the thouf^ht of havinsf excited his answer. 
 
 " Who has been here since I went out, Victor," 
 said the count in a mild tone, as soon as he 
 appeared. 
 
190 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 " No one, my lord," replied the porter ; " not 
 a soul has passed the gates but mademoiselle, 
 and the boy from the fish-ponds v/ith some fine 
 carp." 
 
 " Indeed ! " replied the count: "bethink your- 
 self, Victor ; for I wish you to be very accurate." 
 
 The man still remained firm in the same 
 story, however; and the count then asked if 
 the boy from the fish-ponds had gone back 
 again. 
 
 " Oh yes, directly, my lord," replied the 
 porter. " When he had passed the gates and 
 crossed the court, he took the fish to the wicket 
 at the buttery door, where Fran9ois, the cook's 
 man, took them from him ; and he came back 
 directly." 
 
 The count mused for a moment or two, and 
 then inquired, " Have you remarked any one 
 pass by the gates of the chateau ? I saw the 
 fresh marks of carriage-wheels as I came along 
 the road." 
 
 " There was a carriage, my lord, about three 
 hours ago," replied the porter, "with three 
 brown horses and a grey one." 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. ] 91 
 
 "What were the colours of the liveries?" 
 said the count. 
 
 " There were no liveries at all, monseigneur," 
 replied the porter : " the coachman had a grey 
 coat on, and a club wig as thick as my arm ; 
 but there was not a single lackey with the 
 coach." 
 
 In answer to some farther questions from his 
 master, he proceeded to say that the vehicle had 
 driven past as fast as possible, without paushio- 
 for a moment, even to let the party which it 
 contained take a view of the castle, which was 
 a high misdemeanour in the porter's eyes ; the 
 chateau of Castelneau being, in his estimation, 
 the very finest edifice that the skill and inge- 
 nuity of man ever succeeded in raising from 
 the earth. The information, however, seemo^"' 
 to satisfy the count, who nodded his heic-j 
 saying, "That will do;" and the porter, ^'^i 
 contented with the event of his interrogation, 
 retired from the presence of his lord. 
 
 Annette had longed to speak and detail all 
 she knew of the people in the carriage ; but 
 naturally courtesy had prevented her from in 
 
]92 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 teiTupting the count till he had done ; and 
 then before she could speaks, he turned to her 
 saying, " Something very strange has occurred 
 to me to-davj Annette." 
 
 " And to me, also," she replied, with a smile; 
 " but I interrupt you, my dear father. What 
 were you saying ? " 
 
 " Merely," he answered, " that something 
 very strange has occurred, which, unless it be 
 explained hereafter, I suppose I must look upon 
 as the silliest of all idle jests. I received a letter 
 almost immediately after you left me yesterday, 
 calling me to Figeac upon important business. 
 The matter to be treated of, namely, the pur- 
 chase of the neighbouring estate of Merle, was 
 distinctly mentioned. My own lawyer and 
 notary, I was told, would both meet me at the 
 inn ; and, in fact, there was no room to sus- 
 pect that I was deceived. I therefore set out 
 as the letter requested me ; but found nobody 
 waiting, and no sign of preparation for my 
 coming. This struck me as strange ; but after 
 waiting half an hour, lest men should say I 
 am impatient, I sent for the notary, who lives 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 193 
 
 in the town, 3^011 know, and then found that 
 he had not the slightest acquaintance with the 
 matter. The lawyer was then sent for, and as 
 he lives as far off as Lavignac, I was detained 
 lono* before he came. When he did at length 
 appear, I found that he was as ignorant of the 
 whole transaction as the notary, and, mounting 
 my horse, I rode back hither as fast as possible. 
 But say, my dear child, what is this strange 
 thing that has happened to you which you thus 
 speak of? You have not been robbed, I trust, 
 my Annette ? For one can surely walk forth in 
 peace on the banks of the Selle, if any where.*' 
 
 " Oh no/' replied Annette, " nothing of 
 that kind, but something, if not as unplea- 
 sant, at least as unusual," and she proceeded 
 to relate all that had occurred to her. If she 
 softened any thhig, it was not intentionally, and 
 the count obtained a very accurate knowledge 
 of all that had taken place. 
 
 As he listened, his countenance for once was 
 moved ; and Annette could see much agitation 
 in his look : more, indeed, than she had ever 
 seen upon his face before. Ere she had done, 
 
 VOL. I. o 
 
194 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 the count had started up from his seat, and 
 began pacing up and down the room. Annette 
 was astonished and alarmed to see such emotion 
 in one so cahn ; and rising also, she approached 
 and twined her beautiful arms round her father 
 by adoption, saying in an anxious tone, " I fear 
 that my story has grieved you : I hope I have 
 not done wrong." 
 
 " Far from it, my dear child," replied the 
 count : " you could but act as you did act; but 
 still, there may be many matters in the tale 
 that may, and that do grieve me. You know, 
 Annette, that you are not my child ; you know, 
 however, that you are as much the child of my 
 love as if you were one of my own offspring, 
 and you can guess how terrible it would be for 
 me to lose you." 
 
 " Oh, but that will never be," cried Annette. 
 " You do not think that any body could per- 
 suade me to leave you ? " 
 
 The abbe looked in her face and smiled. 
 He smiled, partly because the assurance gave 
 him pleasure ; and yet, strange to say, it was 
 partly because he knew how vain such an as- 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 195 
 
 surance was. He did not deceive himself: he 
 knew the time might come, and probably would 
 come, when even deeper and stronger affections 
 than those which bound Annette to him would 
 take possession of her heart, and when, with- 
 out loving him less, she would love another 
 more, and of course follow the strongest at- 
 tachment. He smiled, however, kindly ; and as 
 he gazed in that lovely face for a moment, sen- 
 sations, regrets, visions, if they may be so called, 
 crossed his mind, from which he instantly 
 turned away his thoughts. In that brief space 
 of time, however, the tempting spirit which ever 
 lies at the bottom of the human heart seized 
 the moment of tenderness to whisper, that he 
 might have been very happy with Annette, not 
 as the child of his adoption, but as the bride of 
 his heart if years and circumstances had per- 
 mitted such a thing to be possible. It is a pecu- 
 liar characteristic of all the suggestions of the 
 dark and subtle enemy of God and man, that 
 each word which the heart is weak enough to 
 receive is written in characters of flame that 
 can never be erased, but which still remain clear 
 o 2 
 
196 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 and distinct whenever the mind rests upon them; 
 till line after line is added thereunto by the 
 persevering fiend, and the temptation becomes 
 overpowering and complete. This was the first 
 time that such a thought had ever crossed the 
 count's mind, and he instantly turned away his 
 eyes from it as if it were an absolute profana- 
 tion. He almost scorned himself to have ad- 
 mitted the very idea of it into his mind ; yet 
 it had an effect upon him — but that effect was, 
 for the time at least, noble, and high, and pure. 
 From that day forth he became somewhat less 
 familiar with his adopted child. He would kiss 
 her brow and cheek when they met, or when 
 they parted, but he touched not her lips, he 
 held her not to his bosom, as he had been 
 accustomed to do : he felt as if it would be 
 unholy so to do, after that thought had once 
 entered into his heart; and though it was a 
 painful punishment for one involuntary idea, 
 yet he regarded it as a penance, and endured 
 it with firmness. But he did more, as we shall 
 soon see when I return to the course of the 
 story, which I have somewhat outrun already. 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 197 
 
 It very rarely happens, indeed, that a con- 
 versation of great interest proceeds to its 
 close without interruption. There seems a 
 fatality in it; and every one must have felt how 
 trifles of the most unimportant kind, how im- 
 portunate babblers and frivolous coxcombs, are 
 constantly permitted, or sent by fate, to break 
 in upon those conferences on which hangs the 
 weal or woe of our whole existence. The con- 
 versation between the Count de Castelneau 
 and Mademoiselle de St. Morin had just 
 reached the point at which we stopped in de- 
 tailing it, when, from the window of the saloon, 
 the count beheld a carriage with six beautiful 
 horses, together with manifold lackeys on horse- 
 back and on foot, enter the gates, which had 
 been thrown open to admit them, and pass 
 onward across the court to the principal door of 
 the chateau. 
 
 His countenance resumed all its calmness in 
 a moment. " This is the family of Cajare, 
 Annette," he said : " I heard they had arrived 
 when I was at Figeac ; but I dreamed not they 
 would have made us a visit to-day, and could 
 o 3 
 
198 THE ANCIENT TIEGIME. 
 
 well have spared it. We must do the best to 
 entertam them, however; for courtesy is a duty, 
 my dear child, even to those we do not like or 
 esteem." 
 
 " Oh, I dislike Madame de Cajare very 
 much," said Annette. 
 
 " And I her husband as much," replied the 
 abbe. 
 
 Speeches like these but too often precede, in 
 the false and hollow-hearted world in which we 
 live, the entrance of visiters who are received 
 with the most marked and flattering attention, 
 with bright smiles and professions of delight. 
 Such, however, was not the case with the Count 
 de Castelneau and Annette de St. Morin. The 
 first advanced to meet his guests with slow and 
 stately politeness, inquired after the health of 
 the marquis and marchioness, trusted they had 
 been well since he had seen them, now a period 
 of two years, and hoped that they had greatly 
 enjoyed the pleasures of Paris, but did not even 
 express pleasure at seeing them. 
 
 "Ah, Monsieur de Castelneau," said the 
 lady, in a languid tone, " you know that these 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 199 
 
 dreadful vapours from which I suffer never 
 leave me much happiness. If there be any 
 thing that I can hope for in Hfe, it is but to 
 pass the rest of my days in a gentle melan- 
 choly, without being assailed by any deep grief 
 or great misfortune. — Ah ! Mademoiselle de 
 St. Morin, how charming you are ! I declare 
 you become more lovely every day. Why dur- 
 ing the last few months what a change and 
 improvement has taken place in your beauty ! '* 
 Annette coloured slightly, and replied cour- 
 teously, but still coldly. The marquise, how- 
 ever, who was always quite satisfied with every 
 thing she did herself, perceived in Annette's 
 manner but that graceful indifference which is 
 always cultivated in courts and great cities by 
 those persons who, having nothing in heart or 
 mind to distinguish them, are forced to make the 
 most of those accidental circumstances of rank 
 and fortune which they either really possess or 
 assume. Such, indeed, was the combination of 
 graces of person and demeanour, with a chill- 
 ing coldness which could not be concealed, in 
 Annette's reception of the Marchioness d-^ 
 o 4 
 
iJOO THE ANCIENT FvEGI^IE. 
 
 Cajare, that the latter lady marvelled in her own 
 heart, and asked herself where that country 
 girl could have acquired such a distinguished 
 air and manner. 
 
 While the two ladies had thus been convers- 
 ing. Monsieur de Castelneau had been engaged 
 in paying some attention to the marquis; and 
 he now turned round, saying to Annette, " My 
 dear child, we are to be honoured with the 
 company of Monsieur and Madame de Cajare 
 to-niglu : they will do us the honour of supping 
 with us, and sleeping at the chateau. You had 
 better, therefore, summon good Donnine, and 
 give orders that apartments be immediately pre- 
 pared for our distinguished guests." 
 
 Madame de Cajare and Monsieur de Cajare 
 made a thousand formal apologies; declared that 
 Mademoiselle de St. Morin would think them 
 the most rude and unceremonious people in 
 the world ; but explained that they were on 
 their way to pay a visit to the small town of 
 Fons, and that one of their horses having cast 
 a shoe, and detained them till that late hour, 
 Madame de Cajare was far too timid to pass 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. '201 
 
 tliroiigli the woods in the growing obscurity 
 which was now fast falling over the world. 
 
 This statement might be true or it might 
 not, but the Count de Castelneau certainly did 
 not believe it. However, old Donnine, having 
 been summoned to Annette's aid, now ap- 
 peared in a gown of rich silk brocade, attired 
 wdth infinitely more smartness than her mistress, 
 
 thouoh withal in oarments well suited to her 
 o o 
 
 age ; and Annette, having spoken a word or two 
 to her faithful old attendant, quitted the room 
 with her for a moment, to insure that every 
 thing should be done to make their unexpected 
 guests comfortable. 
 
 As soon as the young lady and the good old 
 nurse were gone, Madame de Cajare exclaimed, 
 " What a charming creature !" and the count, 
 with a certain spice of malice, which remained 
 from his former habits notwithstanding all his 
 efforts, chose to misunderstand, and applied the 
 words of the marquise to the good old Don- 
 nine. 
 
 <« A very charming creature, indeed," he re- 
 plied, in a grave and somewhat solemn tone: 
 
20"2 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 " she was first my ward's nurse, and has since 
 been raised to the dignity oi gouvernante of the 
 chateau." 
 
 The marquise explained, and the count 
 bowed, but gave no farther encouragement to 
 the praises of Annette. The evening passed 
 by, upon the whole, cheerfully : the marquis 
 himself, if he could not be called either a gay, 
 a witty, or a sensible man, being overloaded 
 with the phrases and the common-places of the 
 world and the times. There was no subject 
 on earth in regard to which he could not say 
 something ; and being neither diffident of his 
 own powers, nor slow in delivering his own 
 opinions, he himself supplied conversation of 
 a certain kind wherever he went. He neither 
 required nor accepted much assistance, very 
 often answering his own questions as soon as 
 they were asked ; and the count found it very 
 easy to entertain a person who was thus willing 
 to play two hands in a game of chit-chat with 
 himself. The marquis tried hard, in the course 
 of the evening, to induce his host to play with 
 him ; for gambling was at that time a disease 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 203 
 
 in the city of Paris, with which vMonsieur de 
 Cajare was very much afflicted. The count, 
 however, remained firm, and declined, saying, 
 with one of his doubtful smiles, that he had 
 left off gaming when he quitted the church. 
 The want of that sort of entertainment might 
 have made the evening seem somewhat long 
 to the guests of the chateau de Castelneau, 
 had not the marquise, who perhaps might have 
 some suspicion that her husband wished for a 
 private conversation with his entertainer, retired 
 to her apartment almost immediately after sup- 
 per, accompanied by Mademoiselle de St. Morin, 
 to do the honours of the house. 
 
 No sooner was she gone than Monsieur de 
 Cajare laid regular siege to the mind of the 
 count, seeking to draw from him, by one means 
 or another, some account of Annette, and her 
 prospects in life. He began by accounting for 
 the absence of his daughter, who would be so 
 delighted, he assured the count, to cultivate the 
 acquaintance of Mademoiselle de St. Morin, by 
 stating that she had remained at the chateau of 
 Cajare in order to receive her brother the baron. 
 
204 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 who was expected every hour from Paris. He 
 then proceeded once more to comment upon An- 
 nette's beauty ; but the count listened in silence, 
 without even replying by a look. 
 
 At length the marquis ventured upon a bold 
 stroke, and exclaimed, as if he had known well 
 the person of whom he was speaking, *' Ah, 
 poor Monsieur de St. Morin ! he was in very 
 bad circumstances, I fear, when he died." 
 
 " Annette's father was not rich," replied the 
 count. 
 
 " I feared so — I feared so," said the mar- 
 quis : " he was an excellent man." 
 
 " A very good man, indeed," replied the 
 count, with the same cynical smile. 
 
 '' I fear he has not left her very well pro- 
 vided for," said the marquis. 
 
 Monsieur de Castelneau had a very great 
 inclination not to answer at all, as he saw 
 clearly through the views and purposes with 
 which these suppositions were put forward. 
 The evil spirit did not lose the opportunity, 
 and instantly suggested the question, " Shall I 
 promote by any means, even by a word, the 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 205 
 
 estrangement and the separation from myself 
 of a being who has been for eighteen years the 
 sunshine of my home and the hght of my eyes? 
 Shall I aid in uniting her to another by those 
 tender ties which can never bind her to me?" 
 But then the better spirit resumed its sway in 
 a moment, and he said to himself, " Why 
 should I stay it ? why should I retard it even 
 by a minute ? Would I deprive her of all 
 those blessings that I myself have never known 
 — home, and happiness, and sweet domestic 
 love ? Would I thus repay her for having given 
 comfort and consolation, ay, and almost even 
 cheerfulness, to a wrung and sorrowful heart 
 during eighteen years ? No, no ! Though, if 
 this man's son be like the father, she is no bride 
 for him, yet I may as well make it known to 
 the greedy and covetous world that she is not 
 the dowerless creature that people suppose." 
 
 Thought, which, like the fairy, compasses 
 the round earth " ere the Leviathan can swim 
 a league," had been as rapid as usual in con- 
 veying all these ideas through the mind of the 
 count; so that the marquis remarked nothing 
 
*206 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 farther than one of those sh^ght pauses which 
 often preceded the reply of Monsieur de Castel- 
 neau to any thing that was said. 
 
 " I really do not know," replied the count, 
 at length, '" what you consider not well pro- 
 vided for, Monsieur de Cajare. A gentleman 
 of your great wealth and importance may con- 
 sider Annette's fortune a mere trifle ; but her 
 dower will amount, at least, to sixty thousand 
 livres per annum, perhaps to more ; and that 
 will always enable her, as a single woman, to 
 live in comfort, even if she should not marry." 
 
 "Oh, but she will marry to a certainty, 
 monsieur," exclaimed Monsieur le Comte de 
 Cajare whose eyes sparkled with eagerness to 
 secure the prize for his son : " I am sure you 
 could make an advantageous match for her at 
 any time you thought fit to seek it." 
 
 " I shall in no degree seek it, Monsieur de 
 Cajare," replied the count, quickly, in order to 
 prevent the other from saying more at that 
 moment. " You know I was some time ago in 
 the neighbouring country of England. They 
 are a strange mad-headed people, as you are 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 207 
 
 well aware. Torn to pieces by sects and fac- 
 tions in policy and religion ; but amongst 
 other odd notions^ they have a belief, not uni- 
 versal, but very general amongst them, that a 
 woman has something to do with her own mar- 
 riage, and that it is consequently better to con- 
 s lit her inclinations. This I believe to be the 
 v ason why, in England, one man's wife is not 
 always another man's mistress, as in France.* 
 I liked the system so much, that I long ago 
 determined Mademoiselle de St. Morin should 
 marry whom she liked, and nobody but whom 
 she liked ; reserving to myself, as her guardian, 
 the right of refusing her to any one whose 
 morals, temper, or habits were certain to make 
 her unhappy : — but you seem tired, Monsieur 
 de Cajare, and would, I am sure, wish to retire. 
 Allow me to show you the way. Jean ! Pierre ! 
 Mathieu ! here bring lights. Lights for Mon- 
 
 * It must be remembered that this cynical observation 
 of Monsieur de Castelneau applied to the morals of a 
 century ago, and even then was a great deal too general 
 and sweeping, although quite in character with his sarcastic 
 habit of expression, as will be seen whenever "The Maxims 
 of the Count de Castelneau " shall be given to the public. 
 
208 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 sieiir le Marquis de Cajare ; " and then, after 
 conducting Monsieur de Cajare to liis apart- 
 ments with the most formal poHteness, he re- 
 tired to his own chamber with his usual quiet 
 step. 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 209 
 
 CHAP. XIII. 
 
 The Marquis de Cajare did not quit the cha- 
 teau of Castehieau without pressing the count 
 and his fair ward to visit his dwelling. Some- 
 what to Annette's surprise the count did not 
 hesitate a moment, but accepted the invitation 
 at once, fixed the day for the visit, and seemed 
 well disposed to be on terms of intimacy with a 
 family which she knew he despised at heart. 
 This sudden change in one whose character 
 and demeanour showed in general an unalter- 
 able firmness, might well appear strange to 
 poor Annette ; but the secret was that, as we 
 have shown. Monsieur de Castelneau had un- 
 dergone a struggle with himself, and had gained 
 a triumph. 
 
 In such circumstances there are few men 
 who do not suffer the first moment of victory 
 to carry them too far; and at that time the 
 
 VOL. I. V 
 
210 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 count would willingly have given the hand of 
 the fair girl whom he had brought up from in- 
 fancy to any worthy man who sought it. Feel- 
 ings of this kind, however, are generally as 
 evanescent as they are strong ; and before the 
 third morning after the departure of the mar- 
 quis and his family had arrived, the count began 
 to regret the promise he had given. 
 
 The following day was to be spent at Cajare, 
 and Monsieur de Castelneau would not make 
 any false excuse ; but he could not help com- 
 menting to Annette, in a few sarcastic words, 
 upon the character of those they were about to 
 visit. The marquis, he said, was a charlatan in 
 his follies as well as in his wit ; the marchioness 
 as much a quack in sentiment as her husband 
 was in the want of it. " I have had opportu- 
 nities of seeing," he continued, " that this vice 
 is hereditary. His father was the same as him- 
 self: the daughter has lost nothing of the gift 
 by transmission. It is clearly an heir-loom, 
 and the only one in the family — the son, surely, 
 cannot be without it." 
 
 Annette made no reply, for it was seldom 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 21 1 
 
 that she saw her kind guardian in such a mood, 
 and she loved him less in it. In truth, he had 
 carefully restrained his own sarcastic nature ever 
 since Annette had been with him; for he was 
 unwilling to show her in one whom she loved 
 and revered an example of any thing that he 
 did not wish her to adopt. After a moment's 
 pause, however, he added, " It would not sur- 
 prise me, my Annette, if this youth were to 
 become a suitor for your hand." 
 
 Annette smiled, and shook her head. There 
 is an instinctive perception, regarding all the 
 natural affections, in the mind of women, which, 
 though they often willingly blind themselves to 
 ardent love — as we shut our eyes against the 
 full sunshine — yet shows them many a finer 
 shade and more delicate hue of the same pas- 
 sion in a moment be it concealed however it 
 may. In the few words the count had spoken, 
 Annette perceived, at once, that there were 
 apprehensions in his bosom lest she should be 
 sought and won by the young Baron de Ca- 
 jare ; and though she tried not to investigate 
 why the thought might be painful to him - - 
 p 2 
 
212 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 whether, because he thought the suitor un- 
 worthy of her, or because he liked not the pros- 
 pect of losing her society — that answering 
 smile and shake of the head spoke plainly, and 
 were intended to speak, " There is no fear he 
 should succeed." 
 
 The count understood the smile, and bent 
 down his eyes upon the ground with a medita- 
 tive look, not very well satisfied that even a part 
 of his feelings should be detected, and more de- 
 termined than ever to overcome them. But as 
 the evil spirit is well aware that man's mind is 
 a texture of ideas, he is quite satisfied with 
 adding new ones of an evil kind, and working 
 them intimately in and out, as a weaver works 
 into the warp the thread upon his shuttle. Every 
 time that the mind rests upon wrong, a new 
 throw of that shuttle is taken, and the thread 
 that it bears is the more thoroughly blended 
 with the whole web of our thoughts. 
 
 On the subsequent day, early in the morn- 
 ing, the count and his adopted child set forth, 
 and about an hour afterwards reached the great 
 house of glass and gilding, called the Chateau 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 213 
 
 de Cajare. Their approach had been observed 
 by the inhabitants ; and on the steps leading 
 up to the chief entrance, appeared the Marquis 
 de Cajare himself, with a young man of some 
 six or seven and twenty years of age, splendidly 
 dressed in the military costume of the day. 
 He was handsome in countenance, graceful in 
 person, not the least like the Marquis de Ca- 
 jare in any respect ; and with an expression 
 which, though not particularly marked in any 
 way, was decidedly agreeable and prepossessing. 
 He was rather grave than otherwise : there 
 was none of the light smile about his lip which 
 generally characterised the vain youth of the 
 metropolis ; and as he bowed low on being in- 
 troduced to the count and Mademoiselle de St. 
 Morin, and followed with the former, while his 
 father led the latter into the chateau by the 
 tips of the fingers, his calm and gentlemanly 
 demeanour, his handsome person, and superior 
 tone of manners, made the count feel ten times 
 more uncomfortable than if he had displayed 
 all the idle frivolity and licentious emptiness of 
 a petit-maitre of those days, 
 r 3 
 
214 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 Still, however, the Count de Castelneau 
 struggled against such emotions; and as he 
 walked on slowly up the steps, answering little 
 more than monosyllables to the courteous words 
 which the young officer addressed to him, he 
 might be seen once or twice to close his teeth 
 hard, as if to keep down the feelings that were 
 within him. Before they had passed the thres- 
 hold of the chateau, however, he had again 
 triumphed over himself, and with admirable 
 patience suffered himself to be led by Madame 
 de Cajare and her daughter to take breakfast in 
 a hosquet^ which the marchioness informed him 
 was dedicated to love and pensiveness. There 
 was a fountain and an urn, and two or three 
 Cupids, very naked, and somewhat over- fat about 
 the lower part of the back, and there were in- 
 scriptions in verse below from the flowing pen of 
 Mademoiselle de Cajare. The metre was not 
 very good, nor the poetry ; but there was a cer- 
 tain spice of wit in the composition, which was 
 employed in such a manner as to leave the reader 
 in doubt whether the fair writer was laughing at 
 the Cupids or not. 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIBIE. 215 
 
 Monsieur de Castelneau, on his part, read the 
 verses, and treated them much in the same way 
 as mademoiselle treated the Cupids, commenting 
 upon them in a strain which left it very doubt- 
 ful whether he did or did not admire them. 
 
 In the mean time, Annette, after having been 
 welcomed in rapture by Mademoiselle de Cajare, 
 had been conducted to the bosquet by the mar- 
 quis. His son, also, had fallen back to her side ; 
 and though he did not press any very great at- 
 tentions upon her, yet all he did say was gentle- 
 manly, and high toned. Annette was struck 
 and pleased ; and certainly, if the Count de 
 Castelneau had contrived a plan for making her 
 fall in love with the Baron de Cajare, he could 
 not have laid out the events more cunningly for 
 that purpose, than by drawing such a picture of 
 that gentleman as he had suggested to her mind, 
 and then presenting such an extraordinary con- 
 trast in reality. Annette de St. Morin, how- 
 ever — though, from her inexperience, from the 
 warmth and tenderness of her heart, from a 
 bright imagination, and a thousand other qua- 
 lities of the mind, she might very well fall in 
 p 4 
 
216 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 love at first sight — paradoxical as it may seem, 
 was not one to fall in love easily. It required 
 many high qualities to win her affection, though 
 her love would have been given in a moment, 
 as soon as her heart was satisfied that those 
 qualities were really possessed. Such was not 
 the case with Monsieur de Cajare : though, in 
 manners, appearance, conduct, he was alto- 
 gether different from what she had expected, 
 his conversation did not afford a sufficient in- 
 sight into his thoughts to convince her that the 
 heart was high, and noble, and generous, the 
 mind bright, pure, and unsullied. 
 
 No event of importance took place through- 
 out the day : to Annette it passed happily and 
 cheerfully enough : indeed more so than any 
 day she had spent in general society ; for her 
 happiest hours had always been those which she 
 had passed with her father by adoption. The 
 young officer, who contrived now to be a good 
 deal by her side, had evidently a finished and 
 refined taste, had an intimate acquaintance 
 with the works of art in various countries, and 
 had seen and known many of the most dis- 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 217 
 
 tinguished men of the day. He expressed his 
 opinions, and he communicated his information, 
 pleasantly and unobtrusively; and withal, he 
 had that intelligent look, that meaning smile, 
 which seems to pre-suppose a familiarity with 
 our internal thoughts and feelings, and soon 
 makes friends with the spirit within us, 
 
 Annette, on her part, neither encouraged nor 
 repelled his attention ; but, as 1 have said, the 
 day passed pleasantly for her, till she saw very 
 evidently that the Count de Castelneau was 
 uneasy. She did not fully understand why this 
 should be, but felt inclined to believe that he 
 knew more of the Baron de Cajare than he had 
 stated, and that what he did know was disad- 
 vantageous to that young nobleman. As soon 
 as she perceived this, she listened with less 
 satisfaction to the baron's conversation, and at- 
 tached herself more closely to the side of the 
 count. Monsieur de Castelneau remarked that 
 she did so, and was pleased, it must be acknow- 
 ledged, at the result; but at the same time was 
 rather mortified that she had discovered his un- 
 easiness. He did not wish that uneasiness to be 
 
218 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 perceived, and would only have prevented her 
 conversing farther with the young officer upon 
 the condition of doing so without appearing to 
 do it. To remove the impression as much as pos- 
 sible, however, his warmth of manner towards the 
 baron increased as Annette became more cold ; 
 and he ended, ere they took their departure, 
 by inviting him in a hospitable tone to the 
 chateau of Castelneau. The young officer bowed, 
 and promised to take advantage of the invita- 
 tion ; but the next day passed over without his 
 coming, and the next. The third day he ap- 
 peared ; and the count, pleased with his appa- 
 rent indifference, treated him hospitably, and 
 fjave him no discouragement. 
 
 Advanced thus far, the Baron de Cajare did 
 not fail to press his acquaintance more rapidly; 
 sometimes he saw the count alone, sometimes 
 the count and Annette ; but there grew a ten- 
 derness in his manner towards Mademoiselle 
 de St. Morin, a softness in his voice, a look of 
 deep and thoughtful interest, v/hich, every time 
 that the count saw him, made his heart ache 
 with painful anticipations. He struggled boldly 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 219 
 
 and firmly against his own feelings, however. 
 He compared himself firmly with the young 
 baron ; and when he asked himself which was 
 best calculated to win and to retain the love of 
 a young, bright, ardent being, like Annette 
 de St. Morin, he could not but acknowledge 
 that it was not himself, though he felt within 
 him depth of feeling and powers of mind which 
 he knew the other did not possess. He deter- 
 mined that he would do nothing to stay the 
 course of events ; but every step in their pro- 
 gress now gave him agony. Although many 
 painful thoughts were but too familiar with his 
 mind, these seemed more painful still, or, at all 
 events — piled up as they were upon other things 
 — they seemed to render the load upon his bosom 
 intolerable, and yet he would not fly from those 
 thoughts; but, on the contrary, gave himself up 
 to them in manifold solitary and painful fits of 
 ■musing. He would walk forth long by him- 
 self; he would shut himself in his chamber 
 from all society, even from that of Annette. 
 He would ride out far through the lonely 
 woods, or over die wild hills and moors, and 
 
220 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 he would commune with and task his own 
 heart, and accuse himself of gross, and bitter, 
 and shameful selfishness ; and often would he 
 ask himself whether it were really possible that 
 he was animated by any coarse and common 
 passion towards a creature so pure, so sweet, so 
 good, whom he had loved as his own child from 
 infancy up to womanhood. 
 
 There, however, his own heart acquitted him, 
 and the judge was just. No, he said, all that 
 he sought was, that she should not leave him ,* 
 that she should not love another better than 
 him ; that she should not take from him, to give 
 to any one else, that affection which was the 
 sole possession which his spirit valued, the only 
 thing that he had ever really sought, or cared 
 for, or loved, or prized. It had been balm to 
 him when his heart was wounded and bleeding ; 
 it had been as a beautiful flower upon his path- 
 way when all the rest of life had seemed a 
 desert ; it had been his one consolation, his 
 hope, his trust; it had been, in short, his exist- 
 ence, for what is existence without affection ? 
 
 One day, when he had been thus thinking 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 221 
 
 for many an hour, as he rode through some of 
 the most beautiful parts of the neighbouring 
 country, without taking any note of tree, or 
 stone, or rock, or river, he returned at a quicker 
 pace to the chateau of Castelneau, and found 
 the Baron de Cajare sitting with Annette alone. 
 
 There was a slight flush on Mademoiselle de 
 St. Morin's cheek, and the young officer was 
 looking upon the floor, somewhat pale; but the 
 count, though he paused a moment as he entered, 
 and looked from the one to the other, made no 
 observation ; and seated himself near the win- 
 dow, bearing such an aspect that conversation 
 was renewed with difficulty, and each subject 
 was dropped again as soon as it was started. 
 At length the baron rose, and taking his leave, 
 mounted his horse in the court-yard, and rode 
 away from the chateau. The count watched 
 him from the window with a knitted brow and 
 thoughtful eye ; and then turning to Mademoi- 
 selle de St. Morin, he said, "Annette, my dear 
 child " 
 
 But almost as. he spoke, he turned deadly 
 
222 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 pale — put his hand to his heart and then to his 
 head — grasped ineffectually at the arm of a 
 chair that stood near, and fell forward fainting 
 upon the ground. Servants were speedily 
 called : physicians were procured from Figeac 
 and Caliors ; but before they arrived, the count, 
 having been stretched on a sofa, had recovered 
 his recollection, and declared himself quite well. 
 It proved, however, that he was not so ; and he 
 soon found that such was the case when he at- 
 tempted to rise. 
 
 When the physicians came, they declared that 
 lie was not only seriously ill, but in much dan- 
 ger. It matters not what was the barbarous 
 name that they gave to his complaint, their 
 judgment was correct ; and for nearly six weeks 
 he was not permitted to quit the house, or to 
 take any exercise but in moving slowly from 
 his bedroom to the saloon. He was forbidden 
 to read or to write ; and the hours would have 
 passed sadly and slowly, had it not been for the 
 presence of Annette de St. Morin. She read 
 to him, she sang to him, she played to him, she 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 223 
 
 gave up her whole thoughts to him alone. For 
 many weeks she never set her foot beyond the 
 doors, nor did she see any one but good old 
 Donnine, who was the partner of her toils. 
 Several times the family of Cajare applied for 
 admittance when Annette was with the count, 
 and twice they begged to speak with Made- 
 moiselle de St. Morin if the count could not 
 see them ; but Annette distinctly and markedly 
 refused. 
 
 The days passed on, as they will pass in 
 sickness or in health, flying like the shadow of 
 a cloud, and leaving nothing behind. Some 
 gradual improvement took place in the health 
 of the count ; and one day, after what seemed 
 an effort to command himself, he asked whe- 
 ther any one had lately called at the chateau. 
 Annette replied that there had been no one. 
 
 " Not the family of Cajare ? " he said. 
 
 " Not for ten days," replied Annette calmly. 
 
 "Not the baron?" asked the count, more 
 eagerly. 
 
 " Oh no !" replied Annette, with a bright 
 
224 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 and happy smile. " Thank Heaven, he has- 
 been gone to his regiment this fortnight." 
 
 " What mean you, my dear child ?" said the 
 count, almost rising from the sofa. " You seem 
 liappy that he is gone." 
 
 " I am well pleased," she said, " though not 
 exactly happy ; for it matters little to me whe- 
 ther he went or stayed, in truth ; but still it is 
 pleasanter he should be away." 
 
 " What has he done to offend you, Annette ?" 
 demanded the count, gazing inquiringly on her 
 face. " He must have done something to make 
 you angry, by the way you speak." 
 
 " Oh no, my dear father I" replied Annette 
 — for by that endearing name she always called 
 him — " he did nothing to make me angry ; but 
 he spoke, the last time I saw him, of the joy I 
 would have, some day, in quitting this dull old 
 chateau, and leaving the tiresome society to 
 which I have been so long confined, for all the 
 pomp, and wit, and brightness of the capital." 
 
 The count gazed upon her face for two or 
 three minutes without making any reply ; but 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 225 
 
 there was a well-pleased smile upon his coun- 
 tenance which spoke satisfaction and relief. 
 
 " He knew you not, my Annette," he replied 
 at length, "he knew you not;" and without 
 other comment he sunk back upon the cushions 
 of the sofa. But his health improved more 
 rapidly from that day forward. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
'2'26 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 CHAP. XIV. 
 
 From time to time the Count de Castelneau 
 had urged Annette not to deprive herself al- 
 together of air and exercise on his account ; 
 but to go out either on horseback or on foot. 
 She had always avoided doing so, however ; and 
 remained steadfast to her post as long as the 
 least danger existed in the case of her friend 
 and protector. Nor would she quit him till he 
 was again permitted to read and to amuse him- 
 self; but when the physicians took off the pro- 
 hibition from his books, the count insisted that 
 she should take exercise for one or two hours 
 during each day. Nor did he do so without cause ; 
 for during the long course of his illness the colour 
 had somewhat faded from Annette's cheek, and 
 the brightness of her eye had been dimmed by 
 anxiety and watching. To see him better, in 
 itself, did her good ; and one or two walks or 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 227 
 
 rides through the forest soon brought back the 
 rose to its sweet resting place. The count was 
 delighted to see her look so much better, and 
 now insisted that she should leave him more 
 frequently than she had hitherto done, promising 
 soon to join her in her rambles. On the fourth 
 day after she had again begun to go out, Made- 
 moiselle de St. Morin proceeded on her walk 
 alone in the cool of the evening. It had been 
 a bright sunshiny day, somewhat fatiguing from 
 the great heat, and the world around seemed 
 full of repose and calm tranquillity. The birds 
 of spring were yet in song, and the rich notes 
 of the blackbird were heard all through the 
 woods, although the nightingale was now silent. 
 The sun, softened down, like a buoyant heart 
 that has just known enough of sorrow to be 
 calm in its cheerfulness, peeped through the 
 bolls of the tall trees, and poured its light 
 underneath the green branches, gilding every 
 inequality of the mossy carpet of the forest 
 v/ith warm streams of yellow light; but the 
 fresh and balmy air of evening was abroad, 
 and a thousand sweet scents were shaken fron: 
 Q 2 
 
C28 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 the wings of the wind. It was an evening to 
 rejoice in, with the high, pure, holy rejoicing 
 which raises the heart from God's works to 
 God himself, and glorifies his name as he has 
 told us it may best be glorified. In the calm, 
 and the stillness, and the freshness, and the 
 brightness of that hour, in its perfume and 
 its melody, there was a call to joy and 
 adoration which the heart of Annette de St. 
 Morin was not formed to resist. She walked 
 on thinking of the beauty of the Almighty 
 works, and of the goodness and greatness of 
 Him who made them ; all her sensations were 
 joyful, and all her thoughts were praise. 
 
 Thus proceeded she till she came to the same 
 spot where she had sat not very many weeks 
 before, when she had been accosted by the party 
 of travellers, whose strange demeanour seemed 
 to have begun a new epoch in her existence. 
 There w^ere the little cross and fountain, there 
 the bright stream winding on its way, there 
 the bank where she had been seated ; and 
 the whole was now filled sweetly with the 
 soft light of the declining sun, the rays of 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 229 
 
 which glittered on the bosom of the water, and 
 seemed to dive for the pebbles at the bottom. 
 The dark wood rose up behind, shrouding, as 
 it were, that sweet spot in its sombre mantle. 
 Annette placed herself where she had been 
 seated before the arrival of the strangers ; and 
 the scene, of course, brought its recollections 
 with it. Many a curious question and specula- 
 tion came also in the train of memory ; and 
 she sat musing for about twenty minutes, and 
 asking herself who could be the persons whom 
 she had there seen ? — what could be the real 
 cause of the agitation which one of the party 
 had displayed? 
 
 She was deep in this meditation, when she 
 suddenly heard a sound close to her; and, 
 turning suddenly round, she beheld, to her 
 surprise and consternation, a gaunt she-wolf, 
 followed by two young cubs. It was not the 
 period of the year when those animals gene- 
 rally roam; but sometimes, from heat' and want 
 of water, they become very furious even in the 
 midst of summer, especially in Auvergne and 
 some of the midland districts of France. They 
 Q 3 
 
230 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 usually fly, indeed, from any human being if 
 not hard pressed, and if not fled from ; but any 
 sudden motion seems to excite their ferocity, 
 and make them turn either to attack others or 
 to defend themselves. Annette knew that such 
 is the case ; and had more than once seen a 
 wolf in the forest without meeting any injury 
 or suffering any alarm. At the moment, how- 
 ever, her nerves were somewhat unstrung by 
 long attendance on her sick friend. The beast, 
 too, was close to her, running fast, as if pursued 
 by some one ; and, giving way to terror, she 
 started up with a quick scream. 
 
 The animal instantly sprang at her throat; 
 but luckily caught the collar of the mantle 
 which she wore in its teeth, and tore it off", 
 only slightly grazing the skin. The violence 
 of the attack, however, made the poor girl reel 
 back against the tree and nearly fall. The 
 wolf was in the very act of springing at her 
 again, and the heart of poor Annette was faint 
 with terror, when there came suddenly the sound 
 of a snot, and the ferocious beast rolled over on 
 its side. 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 231 
 
 It was not killed; and, though severely 
 wounded, was struggling on its feet again with 
 a fierce howl, when a gentleman on horseback 
 galloped quickly up, sprang to the ground, 
 and, setting his foot upon the body of the 
 animal, held it firmly down. Mad with pain, 
 it bit the heel of his boot so hard that he could 
 scarcely shake it off; but, drawing his horse 
 towards him by the rein which was over his 
 arm, while he still held down the wolf with his 
 foot, he took a pistol from the left-hand holster 
 and discharged it into the furious animal's head. 
 The wolf moved no more ; but it was still with 
 difficulty that he withdrew his heel from its 
 jaws, as he turned to aid Mademoiselle de St. 
 Morin, who had now sunk upon the ground, 
 and was supporting herself against the boll of 
 the tree. 
 
 Poor Annette, as may well be supposed, was 
 well nigh fainting; and the effect of terror being 
 very often, as we all know, more severe after 
 the danger has passed away than before, for 
 several minutes she could not speak, even to 
 give one word of thanks, or reply to the inu"y 
 Q 4 
 
932 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 questions which were asked her by the gentle- 
 man who had come to her aid. 
 
 He treated her with all kindness, and care, 
 and tenderness; brought water in his hand 
 from the little fountain to sprinkle upon her 
 temples and forehead ; and although he gazed 
 upon her with interest, and perhaps with ad- 
 miration, yet his look was respectful, and such 
 as Annette could have met at any time without 
 casting down her eyes. He assured her again 
 and again that there was no danger ; and taking 
 her hand, which still trembled very much, in 
 order to call her attention, he pointed to the 
 wolf lying dead, saying, " It can hurt nobody 
 now, if It has not hurt you already. — Good 
 Heaven !" he continued, seeing a drop or two 
 of blood upon the part of her dress which 
 covered her bosom. " I fear it has hurt you ! 
 Let me carry you home for assistance ! — 
 Surely you are Mademoiselle de St. Morin ! — 
 Let me carry you home ! " 
 
 He was about to raise her in his arms ; but 
 Annette prevented him by laying her hand 
 upon his, and saying in a low tone, " No, no. 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 233 
 
 I am not hurt — only faint with fear — It is very 
 foolish — I shall be better in a moment." 
 
 The gentleman, who had kneeled beside her 
 for the purpose of lifting her from the ground, 
 continued in the same posture, gazing upon her 
 with much interest, and endeavouring, to the 
 best of his power, to reassure her, but still ex- 
 pressing a fear that she was in some degree in- 
 jured. " No," she said, speaking more freely 
 after the pause of a moment or two, — "no, I 
 can assure you, it is nothing. The wolf only 
 tore my mantle at the first spring ; but the 
 second would have killed me if it had not been 
 for your arrival. How can I ever thank you ? *' 
 
 " Oh, think not of it, dear lady !" the stran- 
 ger replied; " it was but a very small service, 
 and one which I would have performed, of 
 course, for the lowest peasant girl in the neigh- 
 bourhood. How much more gladly then for 
 you!" 
 
 Annette smiled faintly, and looked up to the 
 face of her deliverer, for the first time, sup- 
 posing, from his words, that, though the voice 
 was unknown to her, he must be some one with 
 
234 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 whom she was ah-eady acquainted ; but the face 
 was equally strange, though it was by no means 
 a countenance to be forgotten when once be- 
 held. 
 
 " I am ashamed," said Annette, raising her- 
 self slowly, — "I am ashamed to acknowledge 
 that I do not recollect the person of a gentleman 
 who has rendered me so great a service, though, 
 from what you say, I suppose, of course, I have 
 had the pleasure of meeting you before." 
 
 " No, dear lady," her companion replied ; 
 " although I am a native of this part of France, 
 circumstances have prevented me from ever 
 forming your acquaintance; but I have heard 
 much and often of Mademoiselle de St. Morin, 
 from those who know and esteem her, and I can 
 but say, that if I could have chosen the person 
 in all France to whom I would most willingly 
 have rendered such a service as this, I should 
 have named yourself" 
 
 Such courteous speeches were then so com- 
 mon in France that the stranger's words sounded 
 in Annette's ears as a mere casual compliment. 
 *« You are too kind," she replied ; «• but I can 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 235 
 
 assure you that my guardian, the Count de 
 Castelneau, who lives not far hence, will be 
 most happy to thank you gratefully for the great 
 service you have rendered me, and will do it 
 much better than I can do it, though I feel the 
 gratitude I owe you as deeply as any one can." 
 
 " I fear, madam,'* replied the stranger, "that 
 it will be impossible for me to visit the Count 
 de Castelneau at the present time; but when 
 you are well enough, I will accompany you so 
 far back towards the chateau as to insure that 
 no farther evil shall befal you." 
 
 " If it be not wrong of me to ask it then," 
 said Annette, " may I inquire to whom I am 
 thus indebted for my life?" 
 
 The stranger looked down upon the ground 
 in silence for a moment or two, and then gazing 
 up in her face with a peculiar smile, he replied, 
 " In answer to your question, dear lady, I might 
 give you a false name were I so disposed ; but 
 I do not think falsehood is ever justified by any 
 circumstances, and I would rather risk offend- 
 ing you, and seeming rude, by giving you no 
 
236 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 reply than an untrue one. Yet, if I judge of 
 you rightly, you will forgive me when I tell 
 you, it is necessary to my safety that my being 
 in this part of the country should not be 
 known." 
 
 " I would forgive you, by all means," replied 
 Annette ; " but there is nothing to forgive, 
 though of course I should have been glad, -had 
 you thought right, to know the name of him 
 who has delivered me from a great danger — 
 but be it exactly as you please." 
 
 The stranger again cast down his eyes for 
 a moment, and then answered in a somewhat 
 sorrowful tone, " I fear, notwithstanding, that 
 you are a little offended." 
 
 " No, indeed," replied Annette, " very far 
 from it. I could of course only wish to know 
 your name, sir, in order to place it, as it were, 
 in the register of memory, coupled with the 
 greatest service, perhaps, that has ever yet 
 been rendered to me by any one." 
 
 " Then you shall have it, lady," replied the 
 stranger, «* but not now. I will find means to 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 237 
 
 see you before I quit this part of the country, 
 and you will forgive me my silence now when 
 you hear all my reasons for it." 
 
 " Indeed," answered Annette, smiling again, 
 '' I will not let you diminish my feeling of 
 obligation to you, sir, by persuading me that I 
 have any thing to forgive. Whether we do meet 
 agaih or not, I shall ever recollect the assistance 
 you have this day rendered me with the deepest 
 gratitude, and think of you as one who has 
 saved my life." 
 
 " Though you estimate the service more 
 highly than it deserves," replied the stranger, 
 " it is so pleasant to me that you should thus 
 over-estimate it that I will not try to make you 
 think otherwise. One thing, perhaps, you have 
 indeed to thank me for, — which is the fact of 
 having conquered a momentary weak fear of 
 hurting you in the attempt to save you. As I 
 was riding through the by-paths of the wood be- 
 fore I saw you, the wolf and its cubs ran on for 
 some way before me. At the turn — up there 
 by those holly bushes — I lost sight of the animal 
 for an instant ; but the next moment, hearing 
 
238 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 your scream, and galloping on, I beheld it flying 
 at your throat. As soon as I heard your cry I 
 had taken a pistol from the holster ; but for a 
 moment I hesitated to fire, for fear of missing 
 the ferocious beast and hitting you. I soon 
 saw, however, that there was no time to be lost : 
 I rarely miss my mark, and did not in this in- 
 stance, as you know ; though had I been less ap- 
 prehensive I might have killed the wolf at the 
 first shot, and then it would not have bit my 
 heel in the way that it has done." 
 
 Annette started with a look of fear and 
 anxiety, and saw that the moss round the spot 
 where the stranger's foot rested was stained for 
 some way with blood. 
 
 " Oh ! come to the chateau," she said eagerly. 
 " Come to the chateau and have the wound at- 
 tended to. I fear, indeed I fear that you are 
 a good deal hurt." 
 
 Her countenance expressed her apprehen- 
 sions even more than her words ; but the 
 stranger only laughed, assured her that the bite 
 was a mere nothing and would be well in a few 
 days. 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 230 
 
 " I will accompany you," he said, " till we 
 come within sight of the chateau, dear lady. I 
 see you are now well enough to walk home ; 
 and I can only say that I am most sincerely 
 grateful to some indescribable expectation of I 
 knew not what, which led me through this part 
 of the forest to-day. To tell the truth," he 
 added, after a brief pause, accompanying his 
 words with a gay frank smile, " there might be 
 some expectation — some hope, perhaps, of see- 
 ing Mademoiselle de St. Morin, though cer- 
 tainly there was neither expectation nor hope of 
 even conversing with her, far less of rendering 
 her any aid." 
 
 There was something in the tone and the 
 manner — in a slight touch of embarrassmen. 
 which mingled with the frankness, in a degree 
 of wavering in the voice and sparkling in the 
 eye, that showed the words to be not a mere 
 thing of course. The colour rose slightly in 
 Annette's cheek at the compliment which the 
 stranger's speech implied ; though there is many 
 a woman who would have sought to make that 
 compliment greater and more direct, by pretend- 
 
240 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 ing not to understand it, Annette was not one 
 of those. She shrunk from it as some plants do 
 from even the most delicate touch ; and she only 
 replied, " I think it would be much better for 
 you to accompany me to the chateau, and have 
 the wound dressed. You may perfectly trust to 
 my kind guardian Monsieur de Castelneau ; for 
 he would betray no man, and far less one who 
 has saved my life." 
 
 The stranger, however, still resisted her en- 
 treaty ; but walked on by Annette's side, leading 
 his horse by the bridle, and giving her assist- 
 ance at every little rough spot of the forest 
 road, though he did not absolutely offer her his 
 arm to support her still agitated and wavering 
 steps. 
 
 Annette did not construe such forbearance 
 into any neglect of what was due to her as a 
 lady, or into any want of kind consideration for 
 her yet scarcely allayed terror. The stranger's 
 manner was all courteous, and his words and 
 tone so kind, so tender — if we may use that 
 word in its proper senses of gentle and compas- 
 sionate — that Mademoiselle de St. Morin felt 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 241 
 
 there was nothing^ wanting in his demeanour to 
 make her at ease by his side. There was, 
 indeed, an expression of interest and admir- 
 ation in his eyes when he looked upon her, 
 which mio'ht have a;]jltated her had his whole 
 manner not been even on the colder side of 
 respect. She would have taken his arm with- 
 out the slightest hesitation had he offered it, 
 but she did not think worse of him for refrain- 
 ing. 
 
 Thus they walked on somewhat slowly to- 
 wards the chateau, sometimes speaking, but 
 sometimes silent for several minutes. At 
 length the stranger said rather abruptly, after 
 an interval of thought, '* Might it not be better, 
 Mademoiselle de St. Morin, not to mention at 
 all to Monsieur de Castelneau what has oc- 
 curred to-day ? " 
 
 Annette started, and looked full in her com- 
 panion's face ; for she had imagined — why 
 and wherefore it would be difficult to tell — 
 perhaps from his countenance, which was noble 
 and open — perhaps from his having rendered 
 
 VOL. I. R 
 
242 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 her an important service, and thus won grati- 
 tude on his side — but she had imagined and 
 convinced herself that he was all that is frank 
 and sincere. " Oh no ! " she replied eagerly, 
 after that inquiring look; " I always tell him 
 every thing that occurs. I should be unworthy 
 of the kindness he has ever shown me, if I 
 could conceal any thing from him." 
 
 " You mistake me, I think," said the stranger 
 with a smile. " I only meant, till the count is 
 better. I have heard that he is very ill ; and 
 one of the physicians who is attending him, and 
 who also sees frequently a sick relation of my 
 own, informed me that any thing which agitates 
 Monsieur de Castelneau is likely to cause a 
 relapse in his present state. You know best, 
 however. I only feared that to hear of the 
 great danger of one whom he loves — whom 
 he must love — so dearly, might perhaps retard 
 his recovery. But no one can judge better than 
 you." 
 
 The cloud cleared away from Annette's face 
 in a moment ; she felt that she had done her 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 243 
 
 companion wrong in her own thoughts, and 
 with the noble candour of her nature she 
 hastened to acknowledge it." 
 
 " I beg your pardon," she said, " I did mistake 
 you, and I am sorry for so doing ; for I am sure 
 you think as I do, that to a person who has al- 
 ways loved, and been kind, and generous, and 
 good to us, as Monsieur de Castelneau has been 
 to me, perfect sincerity and truth are always the 
 best — are in fact a duty." 
 
 " Indeed I do, Mademoiselle de St. Morin," 
 replied the stranger warmly. " There may be 
 many people who admire you alone for your 
 beauty, but it is for such feelings as those which 
 you have just expressed that I can most admire 
 you. It is for actions founded on such feelings 
 that I have learnt to esteem you from my early 
 youth." 
 
 Mademoiselle de St. Morin coloured at the 
 stranger's words, although they were very 
 pleasant to her ear ; not so much because they 
 were in praise of herself, as because they 
 showed that her first impression of her com- 
 panion's character was not incorrect. He 
 R 2 
 
244 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 marked the blood rising in her cheek, however, 
 and hastened instantly to give another turn to 
 what he was saying. 
 
 " I think," he continued, " that we may very 
 easily lay down a rule for ourselves in setting 
 out in life, by which we may satisfy our own 
 heart, and yet guard against the dangers of 
 over-confidence. In dealing with others our 
 maxim should be, perfect candour to all those 
 who love us, who are frank with us, and whom 
 we can esteem ; reserve towards those whom 
 we have no reason to trust, or any reason to 
 distrust : but truth to all." 
 
 " Oh, I agree with you heartily," cried An- 
 nette, gazing up in the fine countenance of him 
 who spoke those words, with one of those win- 
 ning looks of pleasure that from such eyes as 
 hers are hard to be resisted; and from that 
 moment there were many of the cold and iron 
 barriers which society raises up between stran- 
 gers cast dov/n for her and her companion. 
 
 They walked slowly on then, speaking to- 
 gether as if they had been old friends. Both 
 felt happy in the communication thus esta- 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 245 
 
 blished between them : both felt pleased and 
 interested in discovering new things in each 
 other's hearts, which harmonised -well with the 
 thoughts and feelings of their own. They walked 
 slowly, I have said; but yet the time seemed 
 very short ere, through the opening of the 
 wood, they saw some of the detached towers of 
 the chateau ; and the stranger paused to take 
 leave of Mademoiselle de St. Morin. 
 
 " I believe," he said, " that I must here bid 
 you adieu. I need hardly add that I regret it 
 much, for I have certainly passed an hour of 
 very great happiness by your side." 
 
 Annette cast her eyes down ; she felt that 
 she could have said the same, and on any 
 former occasion the natural straight-forward 
 candour of her heart would have made her do 
 so at once. But now for some reason, or 
 rather I should say from some feeling which 
 she could not account for, her lips would not 
 utter such a confession, and she remained silent 
 while her companion went on. 
 
 " And now, perhaps," he continued, " I am 
 leaving you never to see you again. However, 
 R 3 
 
246 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 I trust that you will believe me, when I say that 
 I shall ever recollect you, and the short, the too 
 short time I have spent with you, as amongst the 
 very brightest memories of a life which has had 
 but too few of such sweet things to remember. 
 It is very hard," he added, with a sigh, " that 
 if in the midst of the great solitude of exist- 
 ence we do find some beings with whom we 
 could joyfully spend many a long day, we are 
 almost always sure to have but a short glimpse 
 of them, and never to see them again. I am 
 sure, Mademoiselle de St. Morin," he went on, 
 seeing the colour flutter in her cheek ; " I am 
 sure that you do not misunderstand me, nor 
 think for one moment that I mean any thing 
 but what is equally respectful and true towards 
 you, or any thing indeed that even this very 
 short acquaintance does not fully justify me in 
 saying." 
 
 " Oh, no, no," replied the young lady, 
 eagerly ; " it was not that ! I only wish to tell 
 you, and did not very well know how to say it, 
 that I am very, very grateful for your kindness 
 to me, — equally grateful to you, indeed, for 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 247 
 
 saving my life, and for your kind and con- 
 siderate conduct since; and I do hope and trust," 
 she continued, growing bolder as she spoke, 
 " that, so far from never meeting again, we 
 may meet soon, and meet often. I may add, 
 that it will be your fault if we do not; for I 
 can venture to assure you that the gates of the 
 chateau of Castelneau will ever be open to you, 
 and that I myself and my more than father will 
 be very, very glad, to show you how grateful we 
 are for what you have done in my defence." 
 
 The stranger looked much gratified ; but he 
 replied, " Do not, dear lady, do not tempt me 
 too much; and, should 1 be prevented from 
 taking advantage of so kind an invitation, do 
 not, pray do not say that it is my fault; but 
 believe on the contrary that it is my misfortune: 
 and now, though every minute may be sweet, I 
 will not detain you longer, but pray Heaven to 
 bless and keep you in its especial care." 
 
 Thus saying, he took her hand respectfully 
 
 and pressed his lips upon it; and she, wishing 
 
 him good-bye, proceeded on her way towards 
 
 the chateau, bearing with her feelings which 
 
 R 4 
 
248 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 she had never experienced before, but not such 
 as to prevent her from acknowledging boldly to 
 her own heart that she should be very sorry 
 indeed if this first meeting with the stranger 
 should be the last. v 
 
 From this fact it will clearly be perceived by 
 the learned reader — learned in that most dif- 
 ficult, obscure, and abstruse book, the human 
 heart — that Annette was not in the least de- 
 gree in love with her companion of the last half 
 hour ; for, had she been so, she would never 
 have acknowledged any thing to her own heart 
 at all, but would have courted, on the con- 
 trary, that sort of mental blindness to all 
 that was passing an her own bosom, of which 
 the bandage over Cupid's eyes is but a just 
 emblem. However that may be, in the short 
 space between the wood and the chateau, she 
 asked herself several times whether it would, or 
 would not, be better to tell the count, in his 
 present state of health, what had occurred to 
 her. It were scarcely fair to ask whether — 
 hidden from her own eyes, in the deep recesses 
 of the heart — any shy spirit put off upon her, 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 249 
 
 like a coiner passing false money for real, one 
 sort of motives for another. Suffice it that her 
 heart was too upright by nature to suffer one 
 wish for concealment to affect her conduct; and 
 before she had reached the gates of the chateau, 
 she had made up her mind to tell the count the 
 whole, but to do so carefully and cautiously for 
 fear of alarming him. 
 
250 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 CHAP. XV. 
 
 Annette entered the saloon, where the Count 
 de Castelneau was stretched upon the sofa read- 
 ing, with . the mantle which the wolf had torn 
 from her neck cast over her arm. The count 
 laid down the book, and raised himself to speak 
 with her ; but the moment that he did so the 
 penetrating eyes of strong affection discovered 
 at once that something had gone wrong. " Come 
 hither, my Annette," he cried. " What is the 
 matter? You are not well — your cheek is 
 very pale, my dear child — your mantle torn, 
 and blood upon your bosom." 
 
 " Oh, it is nothing," replied Annette smiling, 
 and seeing all her plans of communicating her 
 intelligence with caution overthrown in a mo- 
 ment. " It is nothing, I can assure you, my 
 dear father. A little accident which I met with 
 in the wood ! It might have been more serious ; 
 but, as it is, no harm has happened." 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 251 
 
 " But speak, Annette, speak ! " said the 
 count. " What is it? It must have been some- 
 thing serious indeed to leave your cheek so pale." 
 
 " Oh no, indeed," she answered. " I was 
 frightened, but not hurt. The truth is, I met a 
 wolf in the wood " 
 
 " And he flew at you ! " cried the count 
 eagerly. " He attacked you ! Is it not so, 
 Annette ? How did you escape, my girl ? " 
 
 " Nay, do not be alarmed," said Annette : 
 " you see I am quite safe. It was an old wolf 
 followed by two young ones, and she did, as 
 you think, fly at my throat : she caught my 
 mantle in her teeth and tore it off*, scratching 
 me — not with her teeth, I think — but with 
 the clasps of the mantle. She was springing 
 at me again, however, when a gentleman rode 
 up and shot her with a pistol which he took 
 from his holsters. The animal was not quite 
 dead, and bit his heel very severely; but I did 
 not see much of what happened then, for I was 
 nearly fainting." 
 
 "The Baron deCajare?" said the count. 
 " Was it the Baron de Cajare ?" 
 
252 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 " Oh, 110 !" exclaimed Annette: " quite a 
 different person." 
 
 " Who then, who then ?" asked Monsieur de 
 Castelneau quickly. 
 
 " Nay, that I cannot tell," replied his adopted 
 child ; " for, although he was as courteous as he 
 could be in all other things, he would not give 
 his name ; and he told me very plainly, when 
 he had escorted me nearly to the chateau, that 
 it was probable I should never see him again." 
 
 " Indeed !" said the count. " Some stranger 
 travelling through the country perhaps." 
 
 " No, certainly he was not that," answered 
 Annette. " He knew who I was, though I did 
 not know him. He had heard too that you 
 were ill, and seemed well acquainted with all 
 about you; but yet I could not get him to 
 come on to the chateau, though the wolf had 
 bit him in the heel severely, I should imagine 
 from the blood I saw. He told me, however, 
 that he had particular reasons for not making 
 himself known." 
 
 The count turned somewhat pale, and en- 
 quired, ** What age was he ?" 
 
THE ANCIEI^T REGIME. 253 
 
 " That I can hardly tell," replied Annette, 
 " but " 
 
 " Was he old or young?" demanded the 
 count, interrupthig her. 
 
 " Oh, young !" exclaimed Annette, "young, 
 certainly ! Perhaps five or six and twenty, but 
 not more." 
 
 The count seemed relieved, and answered, 
 " It is a pity your gallant deliverer would not 
 come in, my Annette : you might have told him 
 that he could trust me in safety." 
 
 " I did so," answered Annette, " but I could 
 not prevail. He was very obdurate indeed, I 
 can assure you." 
 
 '* He must be obdurate indeed, my dear 
 child, with whom you could not prevail," said 
 the count; " but go, my Annette, wash away 
 the blood from your neck, and then come back. 
 You shall instantly write a note for me to the 
 Baron de Nogent. He is the louvetier* of the 
 
 * Many noblemen were formerly invested with this 
 office of louvetier, or titular hunter of the wolves in their 
 district ; nor is it yet altogether abolished, although the 
 wolves in France have greatly decreased in numbers 
 since that time. 
 
254 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 canton ; and, though it be not the proper season 
 for hunting them, we must not suffer them to 
 roam about in this way, at any time of the 
 year." 
 
 The note was accordingly written in the 
 course of that evening, and was sent over to 
 Castel Nogent by a man on horseback, who 
 returned in about two hours. He brought no 
 note in answer to that of the count, but merely 
 a 'message. The Baron de Nogent, he said, 
 was ill in bed; but he had told one of his 
 servants to reply, that, having heard that one 
 or two wolves had been seen in the neighbour- 
 hood, he had already ordered the dogs and 
 men, which he was obliged to maintain for that 
 purpose, to clear the country of the savage 
 beasts, and the hunters were even then in the 
 woods putting these commands into execution. 
 
 " 111 is he?" demanded the count. 
 
 " Yes, my lord," answered the servant ; " he 
 has been very ill, his people said, for more than 
 three weeks." 
 
 " I grieve that I cannot go over to see him," 
 said Monsieur de Castelneau^ turning to An- 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 255 
 
 nette ; " he is one of the few men whom I caa 
 respect and esteem. Could you not ride over 
 to-morrow, my Annette, and visit hira for me ? 
 He is so solitary at all times, that I cannot but 
 think in sickness it would be a comfort to him 
 to see you." 
 
 " Oh, I will go willingly," replied Annette. 
 " You know how I love and reverence him. I 
 wish from my heart he would let us do any 
 thing to make his solitary hours more cheerful 
 than they are." 
 
 Before the sun had risen into the meridian 
 on the following morning, Annette mounted 
 a jennet, which had been bought and trained 
 for her own riding ; and followed, as was then 
 customary, by two or three servants, she took 
 the road towards Fons, and in little more than an 
 hour had reached Castel Nogent. After some de- 
 lay, the baron admitted her to his sick chamber, 
 and thanked her for her visit with kindness 
 and sincerity. She found him very much 
 worn ; but he assured her t^t he was much 
 better than he had been, alid would soon be 
 well. For more than hour Annette sat by 
 
256 THE ANCIENT REGIME, 
 
 him striving to cheer and amuse him ; and so 
 successful did she find herself, that she pro- 
 mised to return in a day or two if her guardian 
 continued to improve in health. The baron 
 caught eagerly at her offer, and reminded her 
 of it when she went away; and Annette, re- 
 peating that she would not forget, left him 
 with a heart satisfied and gay at having done 
 an act of kindness, and seeing that it was not 
 only appreciated but successful to the fullest 
 extent she could desire. 
 
 She was riding quickly through the woods, 
 with the beauty of the scene, the fineness of the 
 day, and the exhilarating motion of her horse all 
 adding to the glad sensations of her own heart, 
 when suddenly, at one of the cross roads of the 
 forest, she was met by a gentleman on horse- 
 back, who for an instant drew in his rein as if 
 with surprise and hesitation ; but the moment 
 after rode up to her with a low inclination of 
 the head, and turned his horse upon the same 
 path which she was pursuing. 
 
 The reader has already divined what Annette 
 discovered at first sight — that the stranger who 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 257 
 
 now joined her was the person who had saved 
 her from the wolf. He was differently dressed, 
 however ; and was now clothed in a rich hunt- 
 ing suit, which became him well. It was im- 
 possible not to own that in person and in 
 features he was a very handsome man ; but 
 that was little in Annette's estimation, when 
 compared with the high and noble expression 
 of his countenance, which would certainly prove 
 Nature to be a sad deceiver, she thought, if his 
 heart were not generous and kind. 
 
 Mademoiselle de St. Morin received him 
 with a glad and open smile, held out her hand 
 frankly towards him, and said at once, " Oh ! 
 I am so glad to see you again." 
 
 The stranger pressed the hand which she 
 gave in his own ; and his sparkling eyes replied 
 in language not to be mistaken, that, if she was 
 glad to see him, he was no less so to see her. 
 There was, however, in the young lady's look 
 a gay and playful expression, — a meaning, per- 
 haps it might be called, — which surprised her 
 companion ; and while the grooms dropped 
 farther behind, and she rode on with him side 
 
 VOL. I. s 
 
258 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 by side, she led the conversation cheerfully and 
 brightly, as if she had known him for many 
 years. 
 
 " I am happy," he said at length, " most 
 happy to see you so well, and that your fright 
 has not hurt your health or spirits." 
 
 " You think my spirits high, perhaps," an- 
 swered Annette, " because 1 am more gay and 
 familiar with you than I was when last we met. 
 There is a reason for it, however. Do you 
 know what that reason is ?" 
 
 " No indeed," he replied, " I cannot even 
 divine it. — Nay more, I have learnt from many 
 an old fiction and tale of my childhood, that 
 when any thing which makes us very happy is 
 dark and mysterious we should never pry into 
 the secret, lest we dispel the charm." 
 
 " But I will tell you the secret," replied 
 Annette ; " for the magic is all very simple, I 
 can assure you. The secret then is, that I 
 now know who you are; and believe me that 
 discovery makes a very great difference ; for 
 although I must ever have been grateful, had 
 you been who you might, there are some whom 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 259 
 
 it is a pleasure to be grateful to — some a 
 pain." 
 
 " Are you sure you are right, dear lady?" 
 said the stranger. 
 
 " I am sure," she replied, " quite sure, 
 though no one has betrayed you." 
 
 " How then is it possible you can know?" 
 he demanded ; " for I am certain that you never 
 saw me until two days ago." 
 
 " Nay,' I discovered it very easily," she an- 
 swered; " by studying the face of a father after 
 I had seen that of a son. Not that the features 
 are alike, but the expression. — You will under- 
 stand better what I mean, when I tell you that 
 I have just been to Castel Nogent, and sat with 
 the baron for near an hour." 
 
 " Then all I have to say, dear lady," replied 
 the other, " is, that 1 must now, not only beg 
 you to be cautious, but most particularly re- 
 quest that you will confine the discovery you 
 have made to your own breast alone. I think 
 I may ask this of you, without asking any thing 
 wrong ; and I believe you will grant it, when 
 you know that I am now both absent from my 
 s 2 
 
*260 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 regiment without leave, and contraiy to the ex- 
 press commands of the officer next in rank above 
 myself; I mean the Baron de Cajare. I received 
 news that my father was at the point of death ; 
 and as my presence was not wanted with the 
 regiment, I merely announced to Monsieur de 
 Cajare that it was my intention to visit this 
 part of the country, stating my motives at full. 
 He was himself wasting his time in Paris at 
 the distance of two days' journey from the corps, 
 but he thought fit to send a messenger, pro- 
 hibiting my coming into this part of France. 
 I instantly lodged my appeal with his superior 
 and mine; but had I waited for a reply, my 
 father might have been dead before I came. I 
 therefore had to choose my course, and at once 
 decided on coming hither immediately. My 
 companions are all my friends, and they give 
 me good intelligence; but I must return to*- 
 morrow or the day after, lest this gentleman 
 rejoin the regiment and find that I am absent." 
 " Oh ! for pity's sake rejoin it at once," ex- 
 claimed Annette. " I tremble to think what 
 might be the consequences, if your absence were 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 261 
 
 discovered. I cannot help supposing that Mon- 
 sieur de Cajare is a somewhat heartless person, 
 who would show but little compassion or con- 
 sideration of any kind." 
 
 " In this instance," replied her companion, 
 '' he has certainly shown very little consider- 
 ation ; and I know not why he has acquired for 
 himself in the service the reputation of a very 
 artful, and a very remorseless man. I must 
 own myself, however," he added frankly, " that 
 I have never personally seen him say or do any 
 thing that should give rise to such an opinion. 
 His demeanour, as far as I have seen it, has 
 always been that of a finished gentleman and a 
 man of refined taste." 
 
 Mademoiselle de St. Morin looked down 
 thoughtfully, but for some time made no reply. 
 At length, however, she answered, " I know too 
 little of him to judge; but I should rather think 
 that, in the ordinary course of life, people dis- 
 play what they will be on great occasions by 
 small traits, and you may depend upon it that 
 it is by these his fellow-officers have judged 
 him." 
 
 s 3 
 
262 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 " It may be so," replied her companion ; 
 " and indeed the only story that I ever heard 
 of his doing any thing to win himself such a 
 reputation referred to his having won a large 
 sum from a young man at play. The loser had 
 indeed lost all, and more than all, for he was 
 forced to tell Cajare that he had not where- 
 withal to pay him ; upon which the baron coolly 
 took his sword and broke it across his knee, 
 saying, what was perhaps true, but very cruel, 
 that he who played for sums he could not pay 
 was unworthy to wear the weapon of a man of 
 honour. The unhappy man threw open the 
 window which was just above the course of the 
 Rhone, and cast himself headlong out. Cajare 
 sat still at the table, and called for more cards. 
 So goes the story in the regiment ; but I was 
 not with it at the time, being then a lieutenant 
 in the regiment of Picardy." 
 
 Annette gave a shudder as she listened, but 
 made no reply, and her companion soon turned 
 the conversation to other things. During the 
 course of their ride she found the same highly 
 finished taste, the same knowledge of men, of 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 263 
 
 countries, and of arts, which had given a charm 
 to the conversation of the Baron de Cajare; 
 but there was something superadded now, some- 
 thing that, like the sunshine to a beautiful land- 
 scape, afforded the crowning grace to all the 
 rest, brightened every thing it shone upon, and 
 called forth the beauties of the whole. It was, 
 that the heart spoke as well as the head ; it was, 
 that there was feeling, as well as thought, in 
 every thing. Frankness and openness too, can- 
 dour and bright sincerity, were in every word 
 that he spoke ; and, though it was evident that 
 he considered far less what was likely to please 
 than Monsieur de Cajare, he did please without 
 the effort, and won without the calculation. It 
 was a very bright hour for Annette while she 
 rode onward with him towards the chateau. At 
 length, however, he drew in his rein, saying, 
 with a deep sigh, " And now that I must leave 
 you, forgive me if I repeat in thus parting from 
 you, certainly for a long time, and perhaps for 
 ever, that I shall recollect you long and well — 
 far too long ever to enjoy again the society 
 with which I am going to mingle. I shall see 
 s 4 
 
264 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 nothing like you there ; and yet I cannot find in 
 my heart to regret that I have thus met you, 
 even though I be destined thus to leave you — 
 I mean no compliment, no exaggeration, but 
 simple truth. 
 
 Annette blushed deeply ; but yet she found 
 courage to raise her eyes to his, saying in a tone 
 gently reproachful, " Oh ! Monsieur Nogent, 
 how can I answer you? All I will say then 
 is, pray go back to your regiment, and believe 
 me that I will see your father constantly, and 
 show him every care and tendance in my power, 
 as much out of gratitude to you as out of affec- 
 tionate regard for him." 
 
 She held out her hand to him once more ; he 
 pressed his lips upon it, and then turning his 
 horse rode away. 
 
 Annette proceeded slowly to the chateau ; 
 but as she guided her horse through the gates, 
 she looked back towards the hills and wood- 
 lands stretching in the direction of Fons. There 
 was one spot where the shoulder of the nearest 
 acclivity protruded bare through the wood, and 
 commanded a view of the chateau and the 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 265 
 
 ground round about it. On the summit of the 
 hill, at the distance of about three quarters of a 
 mile, Annette de St. Morin saw a single horse- 
 man. He was perfectly motionless, and was 
 evidently gazing upon the path she had taken. 
 It was not of course by features or by dress that 
 Annette could distinguish at that distance who 
 it was, but there was something within told her 
 at once the name of him who was there watching 
 for the last look. 
 
266 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 CHAP. XVI. 
 
 As Annette passed through the old hall, and 
 was taking her way up the stairs which led to 
 the saloon, she paused from time to time to 
 reflect. Her thoughts were in confusion ; the 
 usual calm tranquillity did not reign in her 
 bosom; her heart beat; and her mind would 
 not fix upon any certain point. She was 
 alarmed at her own sensations, and asked her- 
 self the cause of them. 
 
 One of the causes — for in this instance, as 
 in all others, there were many causes combining 
 to produce one effect — she soon discovered; 
 but it was not the chief cause. She had tacitly 
 promised not to reveal the fact, which she had 
 discovered accidentally, of the presence of the 
 young Baron de Nogent in that part of the 
 country ; and she fancied that it was the neces- 
 sity of concealing any thing from one to whom 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 267 
 
 she had hitherto been all candour, that thus 
 agitated and bewildered her. She felt, however, 
 that she had no right to sport with the fate of 
 another; and though she was sure that the 
 secret, with the Count de Castelneau, would be 
 as safe as with herself, yet, as he whom that 
 secret chiefly affected had besought her to tell 
 no one, she resolved to obey the injunction to 
 the letter. 
 
 There was no difficulty in so doing, for her 
 guardian had retired to take some repose 
 during the heat of noon ; which had lately be- 
 come customary with him, and from which 
 habit he had derived great benefit. When he 
 returned to the saloon, he confined his ques- 
 tions entirely to the state of the good old no- 
 bleman whom Annette had visited, approved 
 highly of her promise to see him again, and 
 expressed a wish that she would go to Castel 
 Nogent on the ensuing day. 
 
 Annette hesitated, however, and then replied 
 that she would rather postpone her visit till 
 the morning after. The count said let it be 
 so ; but he gave her an enquiring glance. 
 
268 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 asking himself why she, who was ever ready to 
 fly to aid and comfort those who needed either 
 assistance or consolation, should delay in the 
 present instance the execution of her task of 
 kindness. Annette saw him look at her gravely, 
 and the colour rose into her cheek, for the 
 motive of her conduct was not easily to be 
 explained even to herself. 
 
 The fact is, she wished Ernest de Nogent 
 to be gone back to his regiment before she 
 renewed her visit to his father, and she feared 
 that such might not be the case if she went 
 to Castel Nogent the next day. Was his 
 society disagreeable to her, then ? Oh no ! 
 but the agitation which she felt — ay and his 
 evident admiration — and, even more than all, 
 the new strange pleasure which his conversation 
 had afforded, frightened her young and inexpe- 
 rienced heart, and made her wish for thought, 
 long intense thought, ere she beheld him 
 again. Timidity even flies from that which it 
 loves ; and it is no proof at all that the society 
 of the young Baron de Nogent was not more 
 pleasing to Mademoiselle de Su Morin than 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 269 
 
 any other which she had yet met with in life, 
 that she was unwilling to return to Castel 
 Nogent till she was perfectly sure that he had 
 left it. She coloured a little then, more from 
 the inexplicability of her own feelings than 
 aught else ; but the count took no notice except 
 in his own heart, and Annette's journey was 
 accordingly put off for a day. 
 
 In the meantime, what were the comments 
 with her own spirit ? — what were the questions 
 that she asked her own heart ? — what were the 
 replies that her own heart made ? 
 
 Alack, and a well-a-day, reader, that we 
 should confess it ! But Annette was a woman; 
 and with all a woman's feelings she retired 
 to her chamber that night, thinking that she 
 had the most anxious purpose of enquiring into 
 her own sensations — of asking herself, in short, 
 a thousand questions which nobody but her- 
 self could answer. Yet when she had entered 
 her own chamber, and closed the door, and 
 leaned her head upon her hand and began the 
 enquiry, she stopped at the very threshold of 
 the secret chamber, and would go on no farther. 
 
270 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 She persuaded herself that there was nothing 
 to enquire into, that she had been frightened 
 about nothing, that it was all extremely natural 
 and very right for her to like the conversation 
 and be pleased with the society of a graceful 
 and accomplished man who had saved her life ; 
 and though, perhaps, there were doubts at the 
 very bottom of her heart of all this reasoning 
 being correct, yet she suffered it to prevent her 
 from enquiring farther, and let it convince her 
 will, if it did not convince her judgment. Have 
 we not often seen a child stand on a summer 
 day at the margin of the sunny sea, longing to 
 bathe its limbs in the refreshing w^ave? Have 
 we not seen it cast off its garments and dip in 
 the timid foot, — draw back, hurry on its cloth- 
 ing again, and run away, as if in fear of those 
 bright but untried waters ? Thus was it with 
 Mademoiselle de St. Morin, — the ocean] of 
 love was before her, and she trembled to ad- 
 venture in. 
 
 Yet when, on the day appointed, she once 
 more mounted her jennet to ride over to Castel 
 Nogent, a soft sort of melancholy hung upon 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 271 
 
 her — perhaps a feeling of regret to think that 
 Ernest de Nogent was not there — that she 
 should not see him again, to use his own words, 
 " certainly for a long time, perhaps for ever." 
 She rode more slowly and thoughtfully than 
 she had formerly done — she gazed round at 
 the spot where she had parted from him — she 
 stopped her horse at the little fountain and let 
 him drink in the stream, and then, with a sigh, 
 she shook the rein and went on upon her way. 
 
 When she arrived at Castel Nogent, she 
 paused at the usual entrance, which, let it be 
 remarked, was a side-door, and not the great 
 gates ; and on ringing the bell, was immediately 
 admitted by an old and faithful servant of the 
 family. 
 
 " Oh, madam !" he said, " the baron is very 
 much better ; I think your visit did him a great 
 deal of good. If you will come into the li- 
 brary for a moment, he will be down stairs." 
 
 Annette followed to the library, which she 
 found untenanted, except by the sunshine, 
 that poured in at the window through the 
 branches of a thin tree opposite, and, dancing 
 
272 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 upon the floor as the wind waved the boughs, 
 gave an air of cheerful life to the apartment. 
 It was a fine old room, well stored with curious 
 volumes, and with old lances and other wea- 
 pons of a remote period, forming trophies be- 
 tween the book-cases; while here and there a 
 casque, a corslet, or suit of complete armour 
 belonging to some of the ancestors of the baron 
 long dead, was seen un any vacant space upon 
 the walls. The armour, it is true, was some- 
 what rusty, the books covered with the dust of 
 time; manifold motes danced in the beams of 
 light; and every thing showed that the ser- 
 vants in Castel Nogent were too few in number 
 to keep the house in that exact order which 
 leaves the hand of Time nearly powerless. 
 
 There was an air of dryness, however, and 
 cheerful antiquity about the library, which was 
 pleasant to the eye ; and, as it was a place well 
 suited to contemplation, Annette's first act was 
 to fall into a reverie, still standing in the middle 
 of the floor, with one hand resting on the tall 
 back of the chair which the old servant had 
 placed for her, the other holding her riding 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 273 
 
 whip dropping gracefully by her side, and her 
 whole form and face presenting such an ex- 
 quisite picture of Beauty in meditation that 
 one might well have wished to be a painter in 
 order to draw her portrait as she there stood. 
 
 Her fancies must have been sweet — though 
 they might have a tinge of melancholy in them 
 — for the brow was as open as a bright summer's 
 moniing. But the mind must have been very 
 intently occupied with some subject, for she re- 
 mained during several minutes exactly in one 
 position, without the slightest movement of any 
 kind whatsoever. 
 
 On the left-hand side, close by the tall win- 
 dow, and some eight or ten feet from the spot 
 where she had placed herself, was a small door 
 leading into various apartments of the old 
 chateau ; and at length, if her eyes had not been 
 fixed so steadily upon the floor, she might have 
 seen that door move slowly on its hinges. She 
 did not see it, however, and the first thing that 
 roused her was a shadow coming across the sun- 
 shine which found its way through the window. 
 
 Annette started and raised her eyes, a little 
 VOL. I. T 
 
274 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 confused, perhaps, at being found in so deep a 
 fit of meditation ; but all the blood rushed up 
 into her face in a moment when she beheld 
 Ernest de Nogent himself standing before her. 
 
 "Ah, Monsieur de Nogent!" she said, 
 " what has kept you here ? Indeed I am very 
 much afraid it may be dangerous to yourself." 
 
 Ernest advanced and took her hand with a 
 smile half gay, half melancholy. 
 
 " Perhaps it may be dangerous," he said, 
 shaking his head. " It may be dangerous to me 
 in more respects than you mean ; but you must 
 not ask me what has kept me here." 
 
 " Nay," she answered, gaily, trying to laugh 
 away the agitation which she certainly did feel, 
 but withdrawing her hand from his, " you are 
 very mysterious ; and I will not attempt to dis- 
 cover mysteries with which I have nothing to 
 do." 
 
 " With this mystery, I am afraid," he replied 
 in alow and thoughtful voice, — " with this mys- 
 tery, I am afraid, you have not a little to do." 
 
 Annette turned pale. " Indeed ! " she said, 
 with her heart beating violently. " I should be 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 275 
 
 very sorry to suppose that were the case, for I 
 do think it very imprudent for you to stay." 
 
 " Not so imprudent as you imagine — at least, 
 in the sense that you mean,"^ replied Ernest; 
 " but, in another sense, even more imprudent 
 than you can believe." 
 
 Annette was very much agitated, for his 
 manner spoke more perhaps than his words; 
 but do not let it be thought that she was hypo- 
 critical, if she tried to avoid a subject which 
 produced so much emotion, and endeavoured 
 to turn the conversation back to the danger 
 which her companion ran in remaining there. 
 
 " But you told me," she said, — " you your- 
 self acknowledged to me that there was a very, 
 very great risk in your coming hither at all, 
 and still more in your staying, when every 
 hour may produce a discovery of your absence." 
 
 " I have received letters from Paris since we 
 last met," he said; " but the truth is, Made- 
 moiselle de St. Morin, I am, I fear, very foolish, 
 and I have to make two acknowledgments, each 
 of which may appear very strange to you, and 
 each of which may perhaps give you offence. 
 T 2 
 
276 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 I could not make up my mind to go without 
 seeing you again. That is my first acknow- 
 ledgment; the next is, that I am sometimes 
 tempted to wish with my whole heart that 1 had 
 never beheld you at all." 
 
 He had taken Annette's hand while he 
 spoke, and he could not be insensible how it 
 trembled in his own. The varying colour in 
 her cheek, the downcast look of her bright eye, 
 the quick and agitated breathing, might all 
 encourage him to proceed ; but, though such 
 signs were not without their happy auguries, 
 Ernest was both unwilling to agitate her too 
 much, and too doubtful of success to press his 
 suit vehemently. Before he had well con- 
 cluded his sentence, Annette had sunk slowly 
 down into the chair be&ide her, and placed her 
 left hand over her eyes. 
 
 " I agitate you," he continued, suffering her 
 hand to^be gently withdrawn from his. " Nay, 
 nay, do not be so much moved. Listen to me, 
 Mademoiselle de St. Morin, listen to m.e calmly. 
 It is I who have cause to be agitated and 
 apprehensive- — but hark !" he continued, pans- 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 277 
 
 ing abruptly. " Hark ! there is the sound of 
 wheels. What may this mean ? It never happens 
 but thus; and when we have but one precious 
 moment on which depend our fate and happi- 
 ness for ever, we are prevented from using it 
 by some impertinent trifle." 
 
 Annette looked up ; pushed back the curls 
 from her face, over which they had fallen in 
 the agitation of the moment ; wiped away some- 
 thing like a tear from her eyes, and then held 
 out her hand again to Ernest de Nogent with 
 a smile, which at that moment he would not 
 have exchanged for an empire. 
 
 It might be a long task, reader, to explain all 
 the little peculiarities in thought and feeling 
 which made her act so differently from any 
 other woman ; and even when it was done you 
 might not perhaps understand the whole clearly, 
 if you have not comprehended the whole clearly 
 already from the account that has been laid 
 before you of her education and her natural 
 disposition. She could hardly recover herself, 
 however, and remove the traces of agitation 
 from her countenance, ere the door of the 
 T 3 
 
278 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 library opened, and the old servant entered 
 with a face somewhat pale, announcing — the 
 Baron de Cajare ! 
 
 Ernest de Nogent drew himself up to his full 
 height ; and his left hand, by an impulse that he 
 could not resist, fell upon the scabbard of his 
 sword, as if to bring the hilt round towards the 
 right. Annette had just time to give him one 
 imploring look, saying in a low voice, " For 
 Heaven's sake, for your father's sake, for my 
 sake, recollect yourself ! " when the Baron de 
 Cajare entered the room, and advanced with 
 his usual calm and graceful demeanour towards 
 the spot where Mademoiselle de St. Morin was 
 seated. His lip was curled with the slightest 
 possible sarcastic smile ; but there was no frown 
 upon his brow, and he bowed with the utmost 
 politeness to Annette, saying, " This is an un- 
 expected pleasure, Mademoiselle; I trust that 
 3^ou have continued in health and happiness, 
 notwithstanding your close attendance upon 
 Monsieur de Castelneau." 
 
 Annette bowed her head ; and, hoping from 
 his manner that the errand of the Baron de 
 
THE ANGIENT REGIME. 279 
 
 Cajare was not such as she and Ernest himself 
 believed it to be, she replied in polite terms, 
 and at greater length than she otherwise would 
 have done, stating that she herself was well, 
 and that the Count de Castelneau was daily 
 improving in health. 
 
 The baron listened to every word with the 
 most courteous attention, and, ere she had con- 
 cluded, the old Baron de Nogent himself was 
 in the room. That gentleman instantly fixed 
 his eyes with a frown upon the Baron de Ca- 
 jare, though he grasped Annette's hand, as if 
 to show her that he did not overlook her and 
 thanked her for her coming. 
 
 '* To what cause. Monsieur de Cajare," he 
 said, " am I to attribute the honour of this un- 
 expected and unusual visit?" 
 
 " I hope you are better, my dear sir," replied 
 the baron ; " but I must not take to myself 
 more credit than is my due. My visit is not to 
 yourself, as my very slight acquaintance with 
 you. Monsieur de Nogent, would not justify 
 such intrusion ; but it is to this good gentleman 
 T 4 
 
280 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 your son, a captain in my regiment of horse, 
 with whom I wish to speak a word or two upon 
 business which we will not discuss in the pre- 
 sence of a lady." 
 
 " Mademoiselle de St. Morin will excuse me, 
 sir," said the baron, " if I beg to know at once 
 what is your purpose towards my son." 
 
 " I must beg an answer to a similar ques- 
 tion too," added Ernest ; " as I take it for 
 granted, after our late correspondence, that you 
 did not come here without an object of some 
 importance, and I must choose my own mea- 
 sures accordingly." 
 
 " You will of course take no measures but 
 those that are right and proper," replied the 
 baron ; " but as you say that Mademoiselle de 
 St. Morin will excuse us all, and as I am in 
 some haste, I will merely beg leave to state 
 that I am under the disagreeable necessity of 
 arresting my young friend here for disobedience 
 of orders, and of sending him to trial for that 
 offence." 
 
 " In short, sir," replied the old baron, " you 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 281 
 
 sought to keep him from his father's sick bed, 
 and now you would seek to break that father's 
 heart?" 
 
 "A somewhat hard construction of a simple 
 act of duty," replied Monsieur de Cajare ; 
 " nevertheless, my dear sir, it must be accom- 
 plished :" and he moved towards the window. 
 
 " Is it possible that your nature can be so 
 hard and unfeeling?" said Annette. " Pray, 
 pray. Monsieur de Cajare, have some consider- 
 ation for the circumstances of the case." 
 
 " Alas, my dear young lady," replied the 
 baron, "war is a school that makes us very 
 hard-hearted, I am afraid ; but, notwithstand- 
 ing, I must call up the guard. Do not be 
 frightened at their mustaches, dear lady," he 
 added, with a sarcastic smile ; " the Parisian 
 ladies tell me they are very harmless people." 
 
 While speaking he had approached the win- 
 dow, and now putting out his head, he called 
 '' Come up ! come up !" 
 
 Something that he saw below seemed to ex- 
 cite his surprise, however; for he still continued 
 
282 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 to look out, exclaiming, " Diantre ! what is 
 the meaning of this? Come up, I say !'* 
 
 In the meanwhile, the baron and his son and 
 Annette de St. Morin gazed for a moment or 
 two with the silence of deep grief in each other's 
 faces ; but no time was allowed them to speak, 
 for even while Monsieur de Cajare was calling 
 from the window, and ordering the guard a 
 second time with no very measured language to 
 come up, a gentleman dressed in black, and hold- 
 ing a paper in his hand, entered the room with 
 a quiet and noiseless step, and advanced gravely 
 but quickly, without saluting any body. 
 
 The baron and his son stared at this new in- 
 truder with evident surprise ; but Annette in- 
 stantly recognised the gentleman whom she had 
 seen with two ladies near the fountain in the 
 wood, and, why she knew not, but his pre- 
 sence seemed a relief to her. He took not the 
 slightest notice of her on the present occasion, 
 however; and, passing the party in the middle 
 of the room, proceeded to the window from 
 which the Baron de Cajare was reiterating his 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 283 
 
 order to come up, adding, in a fierce tone and 
 with a somewhat ungentlemanUke interjection, 
 " Why do you not obey?" 
 
 So quiet was the step of the stranger who 
 had so suddenly entered the room, that the 
 baron was perfectly unconscious of his presence 
 till he felt a heavy hand upon his shoulder, and 
 heard the words, which were then somewhat 
 fearful in France, " De par le Roi!^^ 
 
 Monsieur de Cajare instantly turned round, 
 and when he beheld the person who stood beside 
 him, turned deadly pale. 
 
 " Monsieur le Baron de Cajare," said the 
 stranger, " in virtue of this lettre de cachet^ I 
 arrest you in the name of the king, and enjoin 
 you to go with me." 
 
 "Where do you intend to take me. Mon- 
 sieur Morin?" said the baron at once, without 
 the slightest sign of resistance. 
 
 " I intend to send you to the Bastile, sir," 
 replied Pierre Morin. "I have some other 
 business yet to do in this part of the world, so 
 that I cannot have the honour of accompanying 
 you to Paris. Every thing is prepared for your 
 
984 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 comfortable journey; your own carriage is be- 
 low, or I am much mistaken ; but you made a 
 little mistake just now, and took my archers 
 for your own soldiers. May I ask you to walk 
 down, sir, with all convenient speed?" 
 
 The Baron de Cajare looked at Annette 
 and then at Ernest de Nogent, and for an in- 
 stant an expression like that of a fiend came 
 over his countenance. It was gone almost as 
 soon as it appeared, the angry voice in which he 
 called from the window was laid aside likewise, 
 and not the slightest change of tone from that 
 which he used in ordinary conversation was to 
 be distinguished, as he answered Pierre Morin, 
 " Well, Monsieur Morin, of course I obey the 
 king's commands; but I beg leave to say, my 
 young friend here. Monsieur de Nogent, is 
 under my arrest. I must give him into the care 
 of my guard before " 
 
 " You must do nothing before obeying the 
 king's commands, sir," replied Pierre Morin : 
 " besides, you need put yourself into no trouble 
 regarding your soldiers, for I took the liberty 
 of discharging them from attendance upon you. 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 285 
 
 You must recollect. Monsieur le Baron, pri- 
 soners have no authority. As to Monsieur de 
 Nogent, sir, 1 have also the king's orders " 
 
 "To arrest him?" exclaimed the Baron de 
 Cajare. 
 
 " I shall notify his majesty's commands 
 affecting him to himself, sir," replied Pierre 
 Morin in a stern tone, " and not to you. Allow 
 me to say we are wasting time. You have 
 caused me to hurry down here, sir, from the 
 capital, when, if you had attended to the hint 
 sent to you by the Duke de Choiseuil, you 
 would have saved me much trouble, and might 
 perhaps have saved yourself from the Bastile ; 
 but vengeance, sir, has no forethought, and his 
 majesty has been made to understand the mo- 
 tives upon which you acted." 
 
 " He might at least have sent a gentleman 
 to arrest me," said the Baron de Cajare, with a 
 curling lip. 
 
 Pierre Morin seemed not in the slightest 
 degree offended, merely replying, " Sir, I obey 
 his majesty's commands, and he expects you to 
 do the same, be they notified to you by whom 
 
286 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 they may. But, at the same time, if it be any 
 gratification to you to know that you are treated 
 in the same manner as other persons, let me call 
 to your mind that Pierre Morin, chief officer of 
 the king's lieutenant-general of police, has ar- 
 rested gentlemen whose ancestors were noble five 
 centuries before your great-grandfather quitted 
 the little bureau in the Rue Quinquampoix." ' 
 
 The colour came warm into the cheek of the 
 Baron de Cajare, as Pierre Morin in the quiet- 
 est possible tone rebuked his insolent pride. 
 The chief agent of the police of Paris, however, 
 was not to be trifled with any more ; and lifting 
 up his finger as he saw Cajare about to reply, 
 he said in a tone of command, " Monsieur le 
 Baron de Cajare, obey the king's commands ! 
 Descend the staircase, take your place in the 
 carriage which is waiting for you, and surren- 
 der yourself at the royal prison of the Bastile 
 without another word, or I will report your 
 contumacy to his majesty !" 
 
 The baron's haughty air instantly sunk ; and, 
 without taking notice of any one, without bow 
 or word of adieu, he crossed the room and de- 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 287 
 
 scended to the hall. Pierre Morin followed ; 
 but before he did so, he turned towards Ernest 
 de Nogent, saying, " Monsieur de Nogent, you 
 will be good enough to remain here till I come 
 back;" and then, proceeding with his quick 
 noiseless step down the stairs, he saw the Baron 
 de Cajare into his carriage, and two guards take 
 their seats in the vehicle beside him. 
 
 While all these events had been taking place, 
 a number of people had gathered together in the 
 court of the chateau, some from the neighbour- 
 ing hamlet, some from the woods where they 
 had been destroying the wolves ; and manifold 
 were the enquiries of " What is the matter, 
 what is the matter ? " 
 
 At length the enquiry was pronounced close 
 to Pierre Morin, who stood on the steps before 
 the great gateway, where the carriage had been 
 drawn up. As soon as he heard it, he turned 
 round to those who spoke, and pronounced the 
 magical words, '^Enlevement de police, ^^ an arrest 
 by the police; and at the sound the very 
 boldest drew three or four steps back, with 
 
288 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 countenances far paler than they had been 
 before. 
 
 Ay, the very men who not many years after- 
 wards marched to Paris, and aided to dye the 
 streets of the capital with the blood of many of 
 the best, the bravest, and the noblest in the 
 land, now drew back in terror at the very name 
 of that redoubtable police, whose whole real 
 power, like almost every power on earth, was 
 derived from the fears of those upon whom it 
 was exercised. The carriage rolled rapidl}"- 
 away, after Pierre Morin had handed the paper 
 which he held to one of the soldiers in the in- 
 side, and he himself turned his steps again into 
 the mansion of Monsieur de Nogent. 
 
 In the meanwhile, those whom he had left 
 behind in the library of the chateau had con- 
 tinued gazing upon each other with some degree 
 of painful expectation ; but Annette recollected 
 the kind, nay the affectionate manner, in which 
 the very man who seemed to possess such power 
 had spoken to her in the forest, and the mo- 
 ment Pierre Morin again appeared, she ad- 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 289 
 
 vanced towards him, saying, " Let me speak 
 with Monsieur Morin for a moment." 
 
 " Oh, sir !" she said, in a low voice, as soon 
 as she was near enough to speak without her 
 words being overheard, " when last I saw you, 
 you expressed yourself kindly and tenderly to- 
 wards me ; let me beseech you to spare Mon- 
 sieur de Nogent as far as it be possible. Pray 
 remember, sir, he only came hither to see his 
 father, who was then supposed to be dying; 
 and, though that father is better, yet have some 
 consideration for him too." 
 
 Pierre Morin heard her in silence, looking 
 in her face with a smile of kindly meaning. 
 
 " My dear young lady," he said, at length, 
 "you mistake the whole business; I have no 
 power in this matter — I am a mere instrument. 
 — But do not be frightened ; I have nothing to 
 say to Monsieur de Nogent which should pain 
 him, or alarm you." 
 
 " Sir," he continued, turning to Ernest, 
 " this young lady has been pleading for you, as 
 if I had some authority of my own in this 
 business ; but you very well know I am a mere 
 
 VOL. I. u 
 
290 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 agent, as I have just told her. I must there- 
 fore inform you, that his majesty commands you 
 to return to your regiment immediately. He 
 has directed me to say, that, as far as he is con- 
 cerned, he pardons you, in consideration of your 
 father's state of health. The general under 
 whose command you serve will reprimand you 
 for being absent without leave, should he think 
 it necessary. The cause of such an humble in- 
 dividual as myself being commanded to convey 
 this message to you, rather than a military offi- 
 cer, is simply that I was ordered down hither 
 in haste to arrest the Baron de Cajare, whose 
 offence against his majesty has been in some 
 degree mixed up widi the question of your 
 absence without leave. You will understand, 
 sir, that the king's order is peremptory that 
 you depart for your regiment instantly. I will 
 now take my leave." 
 
 It was in vain the Baron de Nogent and his 
 son pressed Pierre Morin to take some refresh- 
 ment before he went; he retired at c.;ice, taking 
 leave of Annette as he passed, and whispering 
 a single brief sentence in her ear. 
 
THE ANCIENT REGIME. 291 
 
 The words which Pierre Morin addressed to 
 Annette were merely these, " Do not be sur- 
 prised or alarmed at any thing you may hear 
 when you return home." But, as always hap- 
 pens, imagination instantly attached the idea 
 of coming evil to the injunction not to fear, 
 and Annette's fancy suggested that some acci- 
 dent or misfortune must have befallen the 
 Count de Castelneau during her absence. She 
 had now learned to feel that there were other 
 persons in the world who might be loved as 
 well as himself, but that did not make her love 
 him differently or less than before; and she 
 hastened to quit her two companions, notwith- 
 standing all the interest which she had learned 
 to take in them, in order to return to him to- 
 wards whom all the affections of her heart had 
 been given from infancy with high, pure, filial 
 love. 
 
 The baron and Ernest de Nogent would fain 
 
 have detained her, at least for a short time ; 
 
 but she would not stay, saying with a smile that 
 
 as she had seen all their enemies frustrated, and 
 
 u 2 
 
292 THE ANCIENT REGIME. 
 
 even sickness put to flight, her errand was over, 
 and she must hasten back. 
 
 Ernest led her down to her horse ; and though 
 there was many a thing in his heart that he 
 would fain have found a moment to utter, yet, 
 perhaps from the impossibility of saying all in 
 so short a space as that which was now afforded 
 him, he remained silent till they reached the 
 bottom of the staircase. There, however, he 
 paused and detained her for an instant, asking 
 with a look of entreaty, " May I not accompany 
 you on your ride ? " 
 
 " No, no, indeed !" replied Annette. "Pray 
 remember the commands you have received, 
 and return to your regiment without the delay 
 even of an hour." 
 
 " I will," he answered, " I will ; but will you 
 not say one word to comfort and console me, 
 in thus parting from all I hold dear, for a time 
 the limits of which I know not?" 
 
 " What can I say ? " rejoined Annette. 
 " What can I say ? — All I can do is," she 
 added — and, as the spot where they stood was 
 shadowed by a large buttress which crossed the 
 
THE ANCIENT RIEGIME. 293 
 
 window, the blush with which her words were 
 accompanied could hardly be seen — " All I 
 can do is, to beg you to be careful and prudent 
 for the sake of those here — of all who love and 
 esteem you. You have run so great a risk 
 already, that I cannot but tremble to think of 
 what might be the consequence of any other 
 act of rashness — and now, go ! pray go quickly. 
 — Fare you well !" 
 
 Thus saying, she turned towards the door ; 
 but Ernest detained her for one moment longer, 
 to press his lips again and again upon her hand. 
 Again he felt that it trembled in his own ; 
 and her agitation, coupled with the words that 
 he spoke, gave an assurance to his heart which 
 was not a little consoling to him. 
 
 END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
London ; 
 
 Printed by A. Spottiswoode, 
 
 New-Street- Square. 
 
^ 
 
 V 
 
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