"How?"
He did not answer, but quickened his steps. The Duke looked archly
in his face, and laughed:--"I will answer myself. That fond little
devil Violante has driven Saint Cuthbert out of your head, and you are
hastening to exorcise the strange possession at the shrine of the holy
woman-hater!"
Louis started at this insinuation: it offended him, though so lightly
uttered. Perplexed, and every way displeased with himself and his
companions, he however tried to answer composedly.--"Your Grace is
mistaken. I carry away with me no image from last night's revelry, but
that of my own weakness. I despise the facility with which I fell in
with the fashion of the hour, to drink wine till I unsettled my reason;
and I detest myself for feeling that I existed from that time until
I awoke this morning, without other consciousness than that which my
besotted senses afforded." He stopped, then raising his before bent
head, smiled scornfully, and added, "The garden of the Hourii is not my
paradise!"
Wharton gazed on him a moment in fixed astonishment.--Louis did not
perceive the amazement he had created, but walked on with a steadier
pace and a calmer countenance.
"Well," thought the Duke, as he put his arm through that of Louis;
"Anteas rose the stronger, after he had touched his mother earth! But
Hercules will try another throw!"
"De Montemar," said he, "let us leave these unlucky Hourii to their
slumbers, and resume the subject which they charmed to silence last
night?--An eve's dropper might be dangerous; so, let us turn towards
the wood, where we may converse undisturbed."
Louis looked at his watch, and seeing that the tide would not be at
full for yet half an hour, he allowed Wharton to turn his steps through
the inner-court into the park.
"Louis de Montemar, I am going to unlock my heart to you.--I am going
to put my life into your hands."
"My Lord?"
"I am.--But I have weighed the trust.--You do not know yourself.--I
do; and,--laugh at me for a coxcomb, if you please! But I affirm, your
character and mine are composed of the same materials. I recognize my
brother's soul in your breast; and the same will be your pursuits, the
same your destiny."
"Oh, my Lord," cried Louis, "if emulation could transform its subject,
you might not prophesy in vain!--But I will not think you mock me!
Your own luminous nature surrounds you; and seeing through that, you
fancy objects bright, which only reflect your beams."
"Prettily said, my ingenious friend," answered the Duke, "but
my position shall be proved by the fact.--Let us compare
circumstances.--You are not yet of age?"
"Just twenty."
"Young enough to be catechised!--Will you answer me fairly?"