disappointment; but she kept her word. Mademoiselle de Lignerolles, some
years later, married the Baron de Montjerac, from whom, said Monsieur de
Venacour, I heard the story. By him she had two sons; but the constant
apprehension that in the eldest will be fulfilled the _mauvais destin_
entailed on the heirs of Givry, preys, it is said, on her mind and
health, and is the cause of the expression of melancholy for which her
fine countenance is so remarkable.
"Some centuries earlier, when power was irresponsible, Count Armand de
Givry, a cruel and oppressive lord of the soil, who then inhabited
Chateau Noir, had put to death one of his serfs, and turned his wife and
two children out of doors in inclement weather, forbidding any of his
tenants to shelter or assist them. The children were without clothes,
and the three poor creatures perished from cold and starvation, but
leaving behind them a terrible retribution, in the form of a curse
pronounced by the wretched woman's lips in her dying agonies, which,
strange to say, seems to have been pretty literally fulfilled.
"When they were nearly at the last extremity, some good Christian had
had the courage to write a pathetic letter for her, which, however, it
was necessary she should deliver herself, as no one else durst do it.
She watched her opportunity; concealed herself in the park, and waylaid
the Count as he returned one day from shooting. But instead of taking
the letter, he set his dogs upon her, who would have torn her to pieces,
but for the courageous interference of one of his followers.
"The curse ran, that never should the heir of Givry prosper till one of
them took the letter; and that the last scion of the house should
_Renier le croix et se vouer a l'Enfer_.
"Since that, it was said that, no eldest son or daughter of the house of
Givry had lived and prospered, whilst the letter, in some way or other
had been offered to every one of them; but as the cadets of the family
lived and married and prospered like other people, they did not choose
to believe in the story; at least, whatever their secret thoughts on the
subject may have been, they publicly threw ridicule on the tradition,
whenever it was alluded to; but Monsieur de Givry had sufficient faith
in it to believe, that if Adeline had been the daughter of Robertine
Collet, she would never have been visited by the ghost of Madeleine
Dogue and her children."
THE SWISS LADY'S STORY.
"It was not I," said Madame de Geirsteche; "it was my mother who saw the
apparition you have heard of; but I can tell you all the particulars of
the story if you have patience to listen to it."
"You would be conferring a great favour," I said; "from what I have
heard of the circumstance, I am already much interested."
We were in the steamboat that plies between Vevay and Geneva when this
conversation occurred, and as there could not be a more convenient
opportunity of hearing the narration, we retired from the crowd of
travellers that thronged the deck, and Madame de G. began as follows.
"My husband's father, the elder Monsieur Geirsteche, was acquainted with
two young men named Zwengler. He was at school and at college with them,
and their intimacy continued after their education was finished. When
one was fourteen and the other ten, they had the misfortune to lose both
their parents by an accident. They were crossing the Alps, when by the
fall of an avalanche their carriage was overturned down a precipice, and
they and their servants perished.
"The Zwenglers were people of good family but small fortune; and as they
had always lived fully up to what they had, their property, when it came
to be divided between their four children, for they had two daughters
besides the sons I have named, afforded but an inadequate portion to
each; but this misfortune was mitigated by their rich relations--a
wealthy uncle adopted the boys, and an equally wealthy aunt took the
girls. This was but just, for they had both been enriched by what ought
to have been the inheritance of the other sister, the mother of these
children, who, having married Monsieur Zwengler contrary to the wishes
of her parents, was cut off with a shilling. This uncle and aunt had
never married, for their father objected to every match that was
proposed, as not sufficiently advantageous; whilst the brother and
sister, taking warning by the fate of Madame Zwengler, preferred living
single to the risk of incurring the same penalty. The daughters having
good fortunes married early, and I believe did well enough; it is on the
history of the sons that my story turns.
"As I mentioned, they were at the same school with my husband's father
when the catastrophe happened to their parents, and he remembered
afterwards the different manner in which the news had affected them;
Alfred's grief was apparently stormy and violent; that of the other was
less demonstrative, but more genuine. Alfred, in short, was secretly
elated at the independence he expected would be the consequence of this
sudden bereavement; and he lost no time in assuming over Louis the
importance and authority of an elder brother. Louis was an enthusiastic,
warm-hearted, and imaginative child, too young to appreciate his loss in
a worldly point of view, but mourning his parents--especially his
mother--sincerely.
"Alfred's hopes of independence were considerably abated, when he found
himself under the guardianship of Mr. Altorf, his uncle, a proud,
pompous, tenacious, arbitrary man; on the other hand, he was somewhat
consoled by the expectation of becoming the heir to his large fortune,
the magnitude of which he had frequently heard descanted on by his
parents. He soon discovered, too, that as the heir expectant he had
acquired an importance that he had never enjoyed before; and in order to
make sure of these advantages, he neglected no means of recommending
himself to the old gentleman, insomuch, that Mr. Altorf, being very fond
of the study of chemistry, Alfred affected great delight in the same
pursuit, sacrificing his own inclinations to shut himself up in his
uncle's laboratory, with crucibles and chemicals that he often wished
might be consumed in the furnace they employed. Louis, the while,
pursued his studies, thoughtless of the future as young people usually
are; but as he advanced in age, he began to exhibit symptoms of a
failing constitution, and as the law for which his uncle designed him
required more study than was compatible with health, he was allowed to
follow his inclination and become a soldier. With this view, he was sent
to Paris, and committed to the surveillance of a friend of his uncle
there, who was in the French service.
"No profession being proposed for Alfred, he lived on with his uncle,
confirmed in the belief that though his brother, if he survived, would
be remembered in the old man's will, he himself should inherit the bulk
of the property. It was a weary life to him, shut up half the day in the
laboratory, that he detested, in constant association with an
uncongenial companion. Moreover, up to the period of his being of age,
he was kept almost entirely without money, and was excluded from all the
pleasures suitable to his years. When he attained his majority, he
became possessed of the small patrimony that devolved on him as the
eldest son of his father, and was enabled to make himself some amends
for the privations he had previously submitted to. Not that he threw off
his uncle's authority, or became openly less submissive and conformable;
but secretly he contrived to procure himself many relaxations and
enjoyments, from which he had before been shut out; and in the attaining
and purchasing these pleasures he freely squandered all the proceeds of
his inheritance, reckoning securely on the future being well provided
for.
"His uncle inhabited a villa outside of Geneva, on the road to Ferney,
and seldom came into the town, except when he visited his banker. His
chemicals and other articles, Alfred usually purchased, and he had made
acquaintance with several young men, whose society and amusements he
availed himself of these opportunities to enjoy. One frosty day in
December, he was strolling arm in arm with some of these youths, when,
on turning a corner, he unexpectedly saw sailing down the street before
them, the massive figure of his uncle, attired in his best chocolate
suit, his hair powdered, and a long pigtail hanging down his back. The
air of conscious importance and pomposity with which he strode along,
amused these gay companions, and they were diverting themselves at the
old gentleman's expense, when his foot slipped on a slide, and he fell
down. This was irresistible; and they all burst into a simultaneous
shout of laughter. A passer by immediately assisted him to rise; and as
he did so, he turned round to see from whence the merriment
proceeded--perhaps he had recognised his nephew's voice--at all events,
Alfred felt sure he _saw_, if he did not _hear_, and thought it prudent
to apologise for his ill-timed hilarity, which he sought to excuse by
alleging that he had not at first been aware who it was that had fallen.
Mr. Altorf looked stern; but as he said nothing, and never alluded to
the subject again, Alfred congratulated himself at having got off so
well, and endeavoured to efface any unpleasant impression that might
remain by extra attentions and compliances.
"Everything went on as usual till the following year, when one morning
the old gentleman was found dead in his bed, and the medical men
pronounced that he had expired in a fit of apoplexy.
"When the will--which was dated several years back--came to be read, it
was found that after two trifling legacies, and five thousand pounds to
Louis, the whole estate was bequeathed to Alfred, whose breast dilated
with joy, as the words fell upon his ear, although it was no more than
he was prepared for; but the first flush of triumph had not subsided,
when the lawyer arrested the incipient congratulations of the company,
by saying, 'Here is a codicil, I see, dated the fourteenth of December,
last year.'
"The company resumed their seats, and a cold chill crept through
Alfred's veins, as the reader proceeded as follows:--
"'I hereby revoke the bequest hereabove made to my nephew Alfred
Zwengler, and I give and bequeath the whole of my estates, real and
personal, to my nephew, Louis Zwengler. To my nephew, Alfred Zwengler, I
give and bequeath my bust, which stands on the hall table. It is
accounted a good likeness, and when I am gone, it will serve to keep him
merry. May he have many a hearty laugh at it--on the wrong side of his
mouth.'
"The auditors looked confounded on hearing this extraordinary paragraph,
but Alfred understood it too well.
"It is unnecessary to dwell upon his feelings; a quarter of an hour ago
he was one of the richest men of his canton--now there were not many
poorer in all Switzerland than Alfred Zwengler. He had awakened from his
long dream of wealth and importance, and habits of expense, to poverty
and utter insignificance; while Louis, whom he had always
despised--Louis, over whom he had domineered, and assumed the airs of an
elder brother and a great man, had leapt into his shoes at one bound,
and left him grovelling in the mud. How he hated him.
"But he might die; what letters they had had from Paris reported him
very sickly; he might be killed in battle, for Europe was full of wars
in those days; but he might do neither; and at all events, in the
meantime what was Alfred to do? A thousand wild and desperate schemes
passed through his brain for bettering his situation, but none seemed
practicable. The sole remnant of the property he had inherited from his
father, that still remained in his possession, was a house in Geneva,
called L'Hotel Dupont, that he had mortgaged to nearly its full value,
intending at his uncle's death, to pay the money and redeem it. It had
been let, but was now empty and under repair, and the creditors talked
of selling it to pay themselves. But Alfred induced them to wait, by
giving out that as soon as his brother understood his situation, he
would advance the necessary sum to relieve him. Perhaps he really
entertained this expectation, but he had no precise right to do so, for
he had never given Louis a crown piece, though the latter had suffered
much more from his uncle's parsimony than he had, having inherited
nothing whatever from his parents. However, Alfred wrote to Louis,
dating his letter from that house, dilating on his difficulties, and the
hardness of his fate, and hinting that, had he come into possession of
his uncle's fortune, as he had every right to expect he should, how he
should have felt it his duty to act towards an only brother.
"He received no answer to this appeal; and, at first, he drew very
unfavourable conclusions from his brother's silence; but, as time went
on, and Louis neither appeared to take possession of his inheritance,
nor wrote to account for his absence, hope began once more to dawn in
the horizon; the brighter, that no letters whatever arrived from him;
even the lawyers who had applied for instructions, received no answer.
The last letter his uncle had had from him, had mentioned the
probability of his joining the Republican forces in the south, if his
health permitted him to do so. Altogether, there certainly were grounds
for anxiety or hope, as it might be; I need not say which it was on this
occasion. Rumours of bloody battles, too, prevailed, in which many had
fallen. Even the creditors were content to wait, not being inclined to
push to extremity a debtor, who might be on the verge of prosperity, for
it was not likely that Louis would make a will; and it was even possible
that he might have died before his uncle. In either case, Alfred was the
undoubted heir; and, accordingly, he began once more to taste some of
the sweets of fortune;--hats were doffed, hands were held out to him,
and one or two sanguine spirits went so far as to offer loans of small
sums and temporary accommodation.
"At length, affairs being in this state of uncertainty, the lawyers
thought it necessary to investigate the matter, and endeavour to
ascertain what was become of the heir. Measures were accordingly taken,
which evidently kept Alfred in a violent state of agitation; but the
result, apparently, made him amends for all he had suffered. It was
proved that Louis, with his military friend, had joined the Republican
forces in the south, but was supposed to have perished in an encounter
with the Chouans; nobody could swear to having seen him dead; but, as
the Republicans had been surprised and fallen into an ambush, they had
been obliged to retreat, leaving their dead upon the field.
"This being the case, the property was given up to Alfred; a portion
being sequestered, in order that it might accumulate for a certain
number of years, for the purpose of refunding the original heir, should
he--contrary to all expectation--reappear. If not, at the expiration of
that term, the sequestrated portion would be released.
"Alfred Zwengler was now at the summit of his wishes; and one might have
thought, would have felt the more intense satisfaction, in the
possession of his wealth, from the narrow escape he had had of losing
it; but this did not seem to be the case. He had, formerly, been very
fond of society, though he had few opportunities of entering into it;
but when he had, nobody enjoyed it more. Now, he did not shun mankind;
on the contrary, he sought their company; but he was moody, silent, and
apparently unhappy. People said, that he lived in constant fear of his
brother's turning up again and reclaiming his inheritance. It might be
so; nobody knew the cause of the change in him, for he was
uncommunicative, even to his nearest acquaintance.
"One thing, that gave colour to this supposition was, that he evidently
disliked to hear Louis named; and whenever he was alluded to, he
invariably asserted that he did not believe he was dead, and that he
expected every day to see him come back. After saying this, it was
observed that, he would turn deathly pale,--rising from his chair, and
walking about the room in manifest agitation.
"Preferring the town to the country, Mr. Zwengler had declared his
intention of residing in his own house, which had lately been repaired
under his special directions, and fitted up with all the appliances of
comfort and elegance; but he was scarcely settled there before he took a
sudden and unaccountable dislike to it, and offered it for sale. As it
was an excellent property, Mr. Geirsteche, my husband's father bought
it; and Mr. Zwengler purchased another house and removed his furniture
thither.
"Mr. Geirsteche had no intention of living in the house; he bought it as
an investment; for being situated in one of the best streets of the
city, it was sure to let well; and accordingly it was not long before
he found an eligible tenent in Mr. Bautte, an eminent watchmaker of
Geneva, who furnished it handsomely. He was very rich, and wanted it for
his family, who expressed themselves delighted with their new residence.
Nevertheless, they had not been in it three months before they expressed
a desire to live in the environs of the city rather than in it. As Mr.
Bautte had taken a long lease of the house, he put up a ticket
announcing that it was to be let. A gentleman from Lucerne, named
Maurice, who had just married his sister's governess, and wished
therefore to reside at a distance from his family, took it for three
years, with the option of keeping it on for whatever term he pleased at
the end of that period. He gave directions for the furnishing, and when
it was ready, they came to Geneva and took up their abode in their new
house. At the end of a year, they applied to Mr. Bautte for permission
to sub-let the house. There was no such provision in the agreement, and
Mr. Bautte at first, we were told, objected, but consented after an
interview with Mr. Maurice. But these frequent removals had begun to
draw observation, and it began to be rumoured that there was something
objectionable about the Hotel du Pont. The common people whispered that
it was haunted; some said it was infested with rats; others that it was
ill drained; in short, it got a bad reputation, and nobody was willing
to take it. Mr. Maurice and his wife, who were gone to Paris for a few
months, and had not yet removed their furniture, being informed of this,
advertised it to be let furnished. So many strangers come to Geneva,
that there is no want of tenants for good furnished houses, and it was
soon engaged by a French family from Dijon. They took it for a year, but
at the end of that time they left it for a residence much inferior in
every respect, and yet more expensive; the rent Mr. Maurice asked being
very moderate.
"I don't know who were the next tenants, but family after family took
the house, for it was a very attractive one, but nobody lived in it
long. When Mr. Maurice's three years had expired, Mr. Bautte bought his
furniture, and continued to let the house furnished. He would have been
glad to sell his lease, which was for thirty years, but nobody was
inclined to buy it.
"I now, said Madame de G. come to that part of the story that concerns
my mother. I have frequently heard the story from her own lips, and
nothing made her so angry as to see people listen to it with
incredulity. My grandfather, Mr. Colman, was, as you are aware, much
given to the pursuit of literature, and as that is one that seldom
brings wealth, his means were somewhat restricted, although he had a
small independance of his own. He had three daughters and two sons, and
when his family had outgrown their childhood, and my mother, who was the
eldest, had attained the age of seventeen, they came to Geneva for the
sake of giving the young people some advantages of education that he
could not afford them in England; besides there was a good deal of
literary society to be had here then, and the place was cheaper than it
is now.
"Having no acquaintance, they applied on their arrival to an agent, who
offered them several houses and L'Hotel du Pont amongst the number. At
first they were about to decline it as a residence beyond their means;
but when the rent was named, they took it immediately. It was so far the
best house they had seen, and the cheapest, that when the agreement was
signed, they expressed their surprise to the agent, at what appeared the
unreasonable demands of the other proprietors.
"'Why, this house is particularly situated, sir,' said the agent. 'The
gentleman who furnished it was obliged to leave Geneva almost
immediately after he had settled himself here; and he being absent, and
caring more for a good tenant than a high rent, we don't stand out for a
price as people must do when they look to make money by a house.'
"Mr. Colman congratulated himself on his good luck in finding such a
liberal proprietor, and in a few days he and his family were comfortably
established in the Hotel du Pont. The only difficulty they had found was
in procuring servants. They had one English maid with them, and, at
last, they succeeded in getting two girls as cook and housemaid. The
latter was a German, who had been brought there by a family who had gone
on to Italy; and the former was a Frenchwoman, who had married a
gentleman's valet, and had followed him from Paris to Geneva.
"As soon as everything was arranged, they resumed their usual
habits--one of which was, that for an hour or two before they went to
bed the father read aloud to them, in a room they called the library--it
was, in fact, his writing-room--whilst the ladies worked. A few evenings
after they had recommenced this practice, a discussion arose between Mr.
Colman and his eldest daughter, Mary, as to the precise meaning of a
French word, and the dictionary had to be appealed to to decide the
question. Mary said it was in her bed-chamber, and left the room to
fetch it. The library was on the ground-floor, and the staircase was a
broad, handsome one as far as the first flight; it had been made by
Alfred Zwengler when the house was repaired, and there was a wide
landing at the top, the whole being lighted sufficiently for ordinary
purposes by a lamp that hung in the hall. The stairs were very easy of
ascent, and my mother--I mean Mary--for she was afterwards my mother,
who was a lively, active girl, was springing up two steps at a time,
when, to her amazement, she saw a gentleman in uniform standing on the
landing above. She stopt suddenly, but as he did not appear to notice
her, she continued to ascend, concluding it was some stranger, who had
got into the house by mistake, for he did not look a thief; but when she
reached the landing he was gone. She stood at first bewildered. There
were four doors opening into bedrooms, but they were all shut; and after
thinking a moment, she concluded it was the shadow of some cloaks and
hats, and sticks, that were hanging in the hall, that had deceived her.
She did not pause to consider how this could be, but turned into her own
room; felt for the book, which she remembered to have left on her bed
and ran down stairs again to her father; so occupied with the disputed
question, that for the moment she forgot what had happened, and as her
father resumed his reading immediately, she did not mention it. When
they were going to bed, and they were lighting their candles in the
hall, she said, 'you can't think what a start I had this evening when I
went for the dictionary. It must have been the shadow of those cloaks
and things, but I could have declared I saw an officer in uniform
standing at the top of the stairs. I even saw his epaulette and the
colour of his clothes.'
"'La! Mary,' said one of the younger ones, 'weren't you frightened?'
"'Frightened! no, why should I be frightened at a shadow?'
"'Or a handsome young officer either,' said one of the boys.
"She playfully gave him a tap on the head, and they all went to bed,
thinking no more of the matter.