"Well, he was, as you are aware, ordered off to Africa, to take a high

military command a few days after, and has not since returned to France.

This day I have received a letter from him, asking me to recommend some

one among my literary acquaintances to fill the office of his private

secretary. You are exactly the man for the appointment. The duties are

light, the pay liberal, the position agreeable in every way; and,

in fact, for one who desires to see something of the world which the

Boulevard du Gent and the Café de Paris cannot show him, the opportunity

is first rate."

The proposal overjoyed me! Had I been called on to invent a post for

myself, this was exactly the thing I should have fancied. A campaign

against the Arabs; the novelty of country, people, and events; a life of

adventure, with a prince for my companion,--these were the very crowning

desires of my ambition.

"I 'll write about it this very day: there will be a mail for Algiers

made up this evening, and not a moment shall be lost in making the

application."

I could not express one half my gratitude for this opportune kindness;

and when I again turned my steps toward Paris, my heart had regained the

buoyant elasticity which had so often lifted me above all the troubled

waves of life.

CHAPTER XXXII. MOI ET MON PRINCE

In less than a fortnight after the interview I have just recorded, I

received a letter from De Minérale, enclosing another, addressed

to himself, and whose royal seal at once proclaimed the writer. De

Minérale's was only a few lines, thus:--

"Dear C,--I forward you the 'Duke's' reply to my note, by

which you will see that we have been in time, and fortunate

enough to secure your appointment. Lose not a moment in

fulfilling the instructions contained in it, and dine with

me to-day at the 'Frères,' at seven.

"Yours,

"P. deM."

The Duke's epistle, almost equally brief, was to the effect:

"Headquarters, Oran.

"My Dear De Minérale,--Of course I remember perfectly our

friend the 'Quatorzième,' whose lucubrations in the journals

I have since been much amused with. In some respects he

would suit me well, being a fellow of high animal spirits,

great readiness, and, if I mistake not, well fitted for the

rough usage of a campaign. But it strikes me that if his

position be such as you represent it, the exchange would be

anything but profitable. This is a land of few pleasures and

no luxuries. Tell him that we never see truffles, that

champagne is only a tradition, and, except Moorish damsels,

who never show us more of their faces than a pair of eyes,--

--darting fire and anger,--we have no beauties. Yet if,

despite all these drawbacks, he be still willing to tempt

his fortune, and trust to 'a razzia' for the rest, let him

call on Count du Verguoble, at the 'Ministère de la Guerre,'

where he will find everything in readiness for his

appointment.

"Should he desire it, he can also receive his commission in

my own regiment, the 13th Chasseurs-à-cheval; and as he will

not be called on for duty, he might as well accept an

appointment that will at least give him forage for his

horses and some other advantages.

"Send me all the new things that are out, and tell me what

you and Alphonse are doing. 'Mes amitiés' to our fair

friend in the Rue Ponchaule, and the like--indiscriminately--

to all the others.

"Yours affectionately,

M. dk St. C.

"You call him 'Le Comte de Creganne,' and so I have written

it for the Minister: is this right?"

I read and re-read the letter till I knew every sentence of it by heart;

and then, dressing myself with a degree of care the importance of the

occasion suggested, I drove off for the Minister's office. It was not

the hour of his usual reception; but on sending in my name, which I did

as Le Comte de Creganne, I was at once admitted.

His Excellency was all smiles and affability, praised his Royal

Highness's selection of a name so greatly honored in literature, and

paid me many flattering compliments on my writings,--which, by the

way, he confounded with those of half-a-dozen others; and then, after a

variety of civil speeches, gently diverged into a modest inquiry as to

my native country, rank, and fortune. "We live in days, mon cher Comte,"

said he, laughing, "in which high capacity and talent happily take

precedence of mere lineage; but still, an illustrious personage has

always insisted upon the necessity of those immediately about the person

of the princes being of noble families. I am quite aware that you can

fulfil every condition of the kind, and only desire such information as

may satisfy his Majesty."

I replied by relating the capture of my property at Malaga, which,

among other things, contained all the title-deeds of my estates, and

the patent of my nobility. "These alone," said I, producing the banker's

letters addressed to me as Condé de Cregano, "are all that remain to me

now to remind me of my former standing; and although, as born a British

subject, I might at once apply to my minister to substantiate my claims,

the unhappy events of Ireland which enlisted my family in the ranks of

her patriots have made us exiles,--proscribed exiles forever."

This explanation went further than my previous one. The old French

antipathy to England found sympathy for Irish rebellion at once; and

after a very brief discussion, my appointment was filled up, and I was

named Private Secretary to the Duc de St. Cloud, and Lieutenant in the

13th Regiment of Chasseurs-à-cheval.

A new career had now opened before me, and it was one of all others the

most to my choice. The war in Africa had become by that time a kind of

crusade; it was the only field where Frenchmen could win fame and honor

in arms, and the military fever of the nation was at its height. Into

this enthusiasm I threw myself ardently; nor did it need the stimulation

derived from a new and most becoming uniform to make me fancy myself a

very Bayard in chivalry.

A truly busy week was spent by me in preparations for departure: as I

had to be presented at a private audience of the Court, to wait upon

various high official personages, to receive instructions on many

points, and, lastly, to preside at a parting dinner which I was to give

to my literary brethren, before retiring from the guild forever.

Last dinners and leave-takings are generally sad affairs; this of

mine was, however, an exception: it was a perfect orgie of wild and

enthusiastic gayety. All the beauty which the theatres and the "artiste"

class generally could boast, was united with the brilliancy and

convivial excellence of the cleverest men in Paris,--the professional

sayers of smart things, the ready-witted ones, whose epigrams were

sufficient to smash a cabinet, or laugh down a new treaty; and all in

high spirits, since what promoted me, also left a vacancy in the corps

that gave many others a step in the ranks of letters.

What speeches were made in my honor, what toasts, prefaced by all

the exaggeration of praise that would have been fulsome, save for the

lurking diablerie of fun that every now and then burst forth in the

midst of them! And then there were odes, and sonnets, and songs, in

which my future achievements were pictured in a vein half-flattering,

half-satirical,--that peculiar eau sucré, with a squeeze of lemon, that

only a Frenchman knows how to concoct!

During one of my most triumphant moments, when two of the very prettiest

actresses of the "Odéon" were placing a laurel crown upon my brow,

a cabinet-messenger was announced, and presented me with an order to

repair at once to the Tuileries with my official letter of appointment,

as his Majesty, by some accident, had forgotten to append to it his

signature. Apologizing to my worthy friends for a brief absence, which

they assured me should be devoted to expatiating on those virtues of

my character which my presence interdicted them from enlarging upon, I

arose, and left the room. It was necessary to arrange the disorder of my

dress and appearance, and I made a hurried dressing, bathing my

temples in cold water, and composing myself, so far as might be, into

a condition fit to meet the eyes of royalty,--two of my friends

accompanying me the while, and lending their assistance to my toilet.

They at length pronounced me perfect, and I drove off.

Although already past midnight, the King, with several members of the

royal family, were seated at tea: two of the ministers, a few general

officers, and a foreign ambassador being of the party.

Into this circle, in which there was nothing to inspire awe, save

the actual rank of the illustrious personages themselves, I was now

introduced by the Minister of War. "Le Comte de Creganne, please your

Majesty," said he, twice, ere the King heard him.

"Ah, very true," said the King, turning round, and, with a smile of most

cordial expression, adding, "My dear Count, it seems I had forgotten

to sign your appointment,--a mistake that might have caused you some

inconvenience and delay at Algiers. Pray let me amend this piece of

forgetfulness."

I bowed respectfully, and deposited before him the great square

envelope, with the huge official seal annexed, that contained my

nomination.

"The Princess de Verneuil will be happy to give you some tea, Count,"

said the King, motioning me to sit down; and I obeyed, while my heart,

beating violently at my side, almost overpowered me with emotion.

Only to think of it!--the son of an Irish peasant seated at the family

tea-table of a great sovereign, and the princess herself, the daughter

of a king, pouring out his tea!

If nothing short of the most consummate effrontery can maintain a cool,

unaffected indifference in presence of royalty, there is another frame

of mind, indicative of ease and self-possession, perfectly compatible

with a kingly presence; and this is altogether dependent on the manner

and tone of the sovereign himself. The King--I have heard it was his

usual manner--was as free from any assumption of superiority as would

be any private gentleman under his own roof; his conversation was

maintained in a tone of perfect familiarity with all around him, and

even when differing in opinion with any one, there was a degree of

almost deference in the way he insinuated his own views.

On this occasion he directed nearly all his attention to myself, and

made Ireland the subject, asking a vast variety of questions, chiefly

regarding the condition of the peasantry, their modes of life, habits of

thinking, education, and future prospects. I saw that my statements were

all new to him, that he was not prepared for much that I told him,

and he very soon avowed it by saying, "These, I must own, are not

the opinions I have usually heard from your countrymen, Count; but I

conclude that the opportunities of travel, and the liberalism of thought

which intercourse with foreign countries begets, may lead you to take

views not quite in accordance with mere stay-at-home politicians."

I could have given him another and more accurate explanation of

the difference. It was the first and only time that his Majesty had

conversed with the son of a peasant,--one, himself born and bred beneath

the thatch of a cabin, and who had felt the very emotions which others

merely draw from their imaginations. As it grew late, his Majesty arose,

and the Ministers one by one retired, leaving me the only stranger

present. "Now, Count, I must not detain you longer; you leave Paris

early to-morrow morning, and I should have remembered how large a

portion of your night I have monopolized. This paper,--where is it?"

I at once took up the envelope, and drew forth a document; but conceive

my horror when I discerned that it was a piece of verse,--a droll song

upon my new dignity that one of my villanous companions had stuffed into

the envelope in place of my official letter of appointment. Crushing it

in my hand, I pulled out another. Worse again! It was the bill-of-fare

of our dinner at Very's, where "entrées" and "hors-d'ouvres, salmis and

macédoines," figured in imposing array. One document still remained, and

I drew it out; but as his Majesty's eyes were this time bent upon me,

I had not a moment to see what might be its contents,--indeed, I half

suspected the King saw my indecision; and, determining to put a bold

face on the matter, I doubled down a blank piece of the paper, and

placed it for his Majesty. Apparently his thoughts were wandering in

some other direction, for he took up the pen abstractedly, and wrote

the words, "Approved by us," with his name in a routine sort of way that

showed he gave no attention to the act whatever.

It was all I could do! To avoid any indecent show of haste in enclosing

the paper within the envelope, my hand trembled so that I could scarcely

accomplish it. When I had replaced it in my pocket, I felt like a

drowning man at the moment he touches land.

The King dismissed me with many flattering speeches, and I returned to

Very's, where my friends were still at table. Resolved not to gratify

the triumph of their malice, I affected to have discovered the trick in

time to remedy it, and to replace my appointment in its enclosure. Of

course the possibility of what might have occurred gave rise to many

a droll fancy and absurd conceit, and I plainly saw how very little

compunction there would have been for my disaster if a ludicrous scene

had ensued between the king and myself.

We separated now, with all the testimonies of sincere affection,--some

of my fair friends even wept; and our parting had all the parade and

about the same amount of sincerity as a scene in a drama. Paul alone

showed any real feeling: he liked me probably because he had served

me,--a stronger bond of affection than many people are aware of. "Tell

me one thing, Creganne," cried he, as he shook my hand for the

last time,--"we are perhaps never to meet again, life has so many

vicissitudes,--tell me frankly, then, if your Mexican history, your

riches and gems and gold, your diamonds, your rubies, your doubloons,

and your moidores, are not all a humbug, together with your imprisonment

in Malaga, and all its consequences?"

"True, every word of it," said I, impressively.

"Come, come, now, your secret is safe with _me_. Be open and

above-board; say honestly that the whole was a 'get up.' I promise you

fairly that, if you do, I 'll have a higher value for your talents at

an episode than I now place upon your lost wealth and your countship to

boot."

"I'm sorry for it," replied I; "there are few men whose esteem I set

more store by. If I could oblige you by becoming a cheat, my regard for

you might possibly overmaster my better judgment; but, unhappily, I am

what I represent myself, and what I trust one day yet to convince you."

With this we parted. As the diligence drove away, I could see Paul still

standing in the same place, evidently unable to resolve the difficult

problem of my veraciousness.

And now I am approaching a chapter of my history whose adventures

and chances are alone a story in themselves. The varied fortunes of

a campaign in a strange land, with strange enemies, new scenes and

climate, of course were not without incidents to diversify and interest

them; and although I could probably select more passages of curious

adventure from this than from any other portion of my life, I am forced

to pass by all in silence; and for these reasons: first, the narrative

would lead me to a greater length than I have any right to presume upon

in this history, or to believe that my reader would be a willing party

to; and, secondly, the recital would entail the acquaintance with a

vast variety of characters, not one of whom ever again occurred to me

in life, and of whom, when I quitted Africa, their very names never were

heard by me more. And here I may be pardoned for saying that I have been

sadly constrained, in these my Confessions, to avoid, upon the one hand,

any mention of those persons who merely exercised a passing influence

on my fortunes, and yet to show by what agencies of personal

acquaintanceship my character became formed and moulded. In a novel, the

world would seem to consist of only the very characters introduced,

or, rather, the characters serve as abstractions to represent certain

qualities and passions of mankind; but in real life is this the case?

Nay, is it not precisely the reverse? Do not the chance intimacies we

form in the steamboat or the diligence very frequently leave deep and

lasting impressions behind them? Are not phrases remembered, and words

treasured up as axioms, that we have heard passingly from those we are

never to see again? Of how many of our strongest convictions the origin

was mere accident,--ideas dropped like those seeds of distant plants

that are borne for thousands of miles upon the wind, and let fall in

some far-away land to take root and fructify? And are these the agencies

to be omitted when a man would give a "confession" to the world? Why are

the letters of an individual his best biography, save as recording his

judgment upon passing events or people, with whom, in all likelihood,

he has little subsequent connection? But enough of this; I have said

sufficient for apology to those who see the difficulty of the case. To

those who do not, I have been prolix without being profitable.

Of Africa, then, I must not speak. Three years of its burning sun and

parched soil--the life of bivouac and battle--had done the work of ten

upon my constitution and appearance. I was bronzed almost to a Moorish

tint; a few straggling hairs of gray showed themselves in my dark beard

and moustache; while emergencies and hazards of different kinds had

imparted a sterner character to my features, that little resembled the

careless gayety of my earlier days. In addition to this, I was wounded:

a sabre cut received in defending the Prince from an attack of

Arab horsemen had severed the muscles of my right arm; and although

encouraged to believe that I should yet recover its use, I was for the

time, at least, totally disabled, and as incompetent to wield a sword

as a pen. A very flattering mention of me in "general orders," my name

recorded in a despatch, and the ribbon of the "Legion," well rewarded me

for these mishaps; and now, as a season of peace intervened, I was about

to return to France with the rank of "Chef d'Escadron" and the fame of

a distinguished officer. As the Prince, my master, was to make a tour

in the provinces before his return to Paris, permission was given me to

visit Italy, whither the physician advised me to repair to recruit my

strength, before adventuring upon the trials of a more northern climate.

The "Duc" overwhelmed me with kind protestations at parting, and gave me

a letter to the French Minister at Naples, especially commending me to

his friendship, and speaking of my services in terms that my modesty

cannot permit me to repeat. Thus was Fortune once more my friend; and

could I have but obliterated all memory of the past, and of those fatal

riches,--the brief enjoyment of which had given an impulse to all my

desires,--I might now have been well contented. High character as a

soldier, a certain rank in the service, and the friendship of a Royal

Prince, were not trifling advantages to one who had often sued destiny

with success, even "_in forma pauperis_;" still, the "great game" I

should have played, as the man of large fortune, was never out of my

thoughts, and in secret I resolved to return to Mexico, and, as the

phrase has it, "look after my affairs."

This determination grew more fixed the longer I considered it; and

here I may remark that the document to which the King had appended his

signature and approval was a statement of my claims on Spain, drawn up

by myself,--one of those hundred representations which I made, in idle

hours, to while away time and amuse hope. If I was well aware that the

signature was obtained by a mere accident, and without knowledge of the

contents, I was not deterred from speculating as to what useful purpose

it might be employed,--scruples of conscience being of all things in the

world those I best knew how to dispose of.

On reaching Naples I discovered that the Envoy to whom my letter was

addressed had just been recalled, and in his place a young Secretary of

Embassy was officiating,--one of those admirably dressed and inimitably

gloved young gentlemen whom France despatches to foreign countries

as representatives of her skill in neckcloths and waistcoats, and her

incomparable superiority in lacquered leather. Monsieur de Bussenaç was

a veritable type of Paris dandyism,--vain, empty, and conceited, with

considerable smartness in conversation, and unquestionable personal

courage; his life was passed in abusing England and affecting the most

ludicrous imitation of all that was English,--in dress, equipage, and

livery.

Although my name was not unknown to him, he received me with the

condescending courtesy the diplomatist usually assumes in his

intercourse with the soldier: protested his regret that the gay season

was over, that Naples was thinning every day, that he hardly knew where,

or to whom, to present me.

I assured him that pleasure was not among the ambitions of an invalid

like myself; but, next to the care of my health, one of my objects in

Naples was to press a claim upon the Spanish Government, to which

the residence of a Spanish Minister of high rank at that court gave a

favorable opportunity; and with this preface I gave a brief history of

my loss and imprisonment. The young Chargé d'Affaires looked horridly

bored by my story, of which, it was clear, he only heard a very small

part; and when I concluded, he made a few notes of my statement, and

promised to see the Spanish Ambassador upon it that very day.

I believe that my experience is not a singular one; but from the moment

that I announced myself as a person claiming the aid of the "Mission,"

the doors of the Embassy were hermetically sealed against me. If I

called, "His Excellency" (everything is Excellency to an embassy porter)

was either in conference with a colleague, or replying to a despatch, or

with the court. If I wrote, my answer was always a polite acknowledgment

of my note, and no more. Even when we met passingly in the street, his

salute was cold and markedly distant; so that I began to suspect that

either he had heard something to my disadvantage among his colleagues,

or that he had received some hint respecting me.

I knew if I were to address the Duc de St. Cloud on the subject, that

my essenced friend would at once receive a check, and possibly a heavy

reprimand; but I was too proud to descend to this, and resolved to right

myself without calling in the aid of others. With this intention, I

repaired one day to the Mission, and having waited for some time, till

I saw a person leave the cabinet, from whom I learned that the Envoy was

at home, I advanced to the door. "Out, sir," said the porter, barring

the way. I pushed him aside, with the air of one who was not to be

trifled with, and, opening the door, walked in.

Whether it was that the suddenness of my appearance unmanned him,

or that something in my manner showed there was no time for further

deception, he arose to receive me, and handed me a chair.

"I have come, sir," said I, calmly but resolutely, "to ask if, in the

matter which I intrusted to your hands, any progress has been made,

or if I am still to be the patient recipient of notes which tell me

nothing?"

"What if there be nothing to tell, sir?" said the young diplomatist, now

recovering his self-possession, and standing with his back to the fire,

in the very easiest of attitudes.

"I will beg of you to be more explicit," said I.

"You shall not have to complain of me on that score, sir," said he, with

a most affected air of courtesy; "and, as brevity is the very essence of

clearness, I may as well state that on representing the case of El Condé

de Cregano to the Minister of Spain, he very gravely assured me that

I was inventing a personage, for that no such name existed among the

nobility of his land. The dignity may be recognized in Mexico," added

he, "but the Mexician Minister is equally perverse, and disclaims having

so much as heard of you. I spoke of your wealth and great treasures,

and they actually were rude enough to laugh,--not at you, sir, don't be

angry,--but at _me_. The Spanish Ambassador, indeed, said that nothing

was more common than for Carlist agents of inferior station to assume

styles and titles which might entitle them to greater consideration if

taken prisoner, and that in this wise you might have succeeded to your

countship; but that to real rank, he persisted in asserting you had no

claim whatever. This you must allow, sir, is awkward."

"For you, certainly, it will prove so," said I, haughtily. "You may rely

upon it, sir, that your career as a diplomatist will end where it begun.

You have dared to insult one whose slightest word could crush you, did

he not feel that such an exercise of influence would be ludicrously

disproportioned to the object it was directed against. There, sir, there

is a written statement of my claim; there a full and explicit demand

for reparation; and there, the signature of your master the King, at

the foot of it. You cannot be ignorant of the hand, nor can you dare to

pretend it is a forgery."

If my insulting language had brought the flush of anger to his cheek,

this "damning proof" completely overcame all his presence of mind,

and left him in a state of confusion and perplexity that any one, save

myself, must have pitied.

"The writing is certainly in the King's hand," said he, "and therefore I

am obliged to concede the fact that your claim possesses features I was

not previously aware of; with your leave, then, I will lay this document

before the Spanish Minister--"

"You shall do no such thing, sir," said I, haughtily; "my asserted right

is just what it was before I showed you that paper; nor shall I stoop to

any corroborative testimony of my claim, even from the hand of royalty;"

and with this impertinent speech I advanced towards the grate and thrust

the paper into the fire, pressing it down into the blaze with my foot,

and watching till I saw it consumed.

The diplomatist watched me narrowly throughout this brief proceeding,

and I half feared that he had seen through my stratagem, as he said,

"Well, Count, as not a shadow of doubt can exist now as to the authentic

character of your demand, the best course will be to have a personal

interview with the Spanish Ambassador. He 'receives' this evening at his

palace, and, with your leave, we will wait upon him together. Of course

the time and place will not admit of any discussion of this claim, but

you can be presented,--a necessary preliminary to the intercourse that

will follow."

This all looked marvellously like a trap; but as any doubt or indecision

now would be ruin, I affected to be much pleased with the proposal, and

we parted.

CHAPTER XXXIII. A SOIRÉE IN THE GREAT WORLD

It was not without considerable trepidation and great misgiving that I

awaited the evening. What subtlety might be in store for me, I could not

guess; but it seemed clear that the young secretary meditated a heavy

vengeance upon me, and would not lightly pardon the insult I had passed

upon him.

"I have it," thought I, after long and deep pondering: "his plan is

to introduce me into a great and crowded assembly, with ministers,

ambassadors, and generals, and then, in the face of a distinguished

company, to proclaim me a cheat and impostor. He has doubtless the

train all laid, only waiting for the match; and as the outrage will

be inflicted conjointly and diplomatically, any demand for personal

satisfaction will be vain, while a very slight hint at the Prefecture

would suffice to have me expelled from the country."

Should I confront this danger, or hazard the risk of such an exposure,

or should I suffer judgment to be given against me by default? What

a trying alternative! In the one case, a peril the greater for

its shadowy, ill-defined consequences; in the other, certain and

irretrievable disgrace! How often did I curse my ambitious yearning

after wealth, that had not left me contented with my own fortune,--the

hard-won, but incontestable, rewards of personal distinction. As the

gallant officer who had gained each step upon the field of battle, and

whose services had claimed the especial notice of his prince, I ought to

have rested satisfied.

My promotion would have been certain and rapid, and what higher

condition should I dare to aspire to than the command of a French

regiment, or possibly some brilliant staff appointment? Why will not

men look downward as they climb the mountain of life, and see the humble

abyss from which they have issued? Were they but to do so, how many

would be convinced that they had done enough, and not risk all by

striving to mount higher! The son of the poor peasant a General of

Division!--one among that decorated group surrounding the sovereign of a

great nation!--was not this sufficient? And so much assuredly was within

my reach, merely by length of life and the ordinary routine of events!

And yet all this must I jeopardize for the sake of gold! And now

what course should I adopt? My whole philosophy through life had

been comprised in that one word which summed up all Marshal Blucher's

"tactics,"--"Forwards!" It had sufficed for me in many a trying

emergency,--it had cut the black knot of many a tangle;--should I not

still abide by it? Of course. This was not the moment to abandon the

bold policy.

From the "host of mine inn" I learned that the Spanish minister, whose

receptions were little less splendid than those of the court itself,

occupied a position which in countries of more rigid morality would have

left his salons less crowded. In fact, it was asserted that he owed his

eminent station to his having consented to marry a lady who had once

been the rival of royalty itself in Spain, and whose banishment had

been thus secured. Being still in the full pride of her beauty, and

possessing great wealth, the "scandal" only added to her claim, in a

society where notoriety of any kind is regarded as a distinction.

She was the reigning belle of the capital. Her word was law on every

theme of fashion and taste; her opinions exerted a considerable

influence on matters of high political bearing; and despite the

ambiguity of her position, she was the arbitress of every claim to

admission into that society which arrogated to itself the name of being

"the best."

It is needless to say that a station of the kind engenders a species of

tyranny to which the world responds by inventing all manner of stories

and strange histories; and thus the Marchesa de la Norada was by some

proclaimed a natural daughter of the Emperor Napoleon,--by others, of

an English Royal Duke. She was a widow, and the wife of half-a-dozen

personages together. There was not an European court into which she had

not brought discord,--not a cabinet where she had not sown intrigue. Her

beauty had seduced, her gold corrupted, and her wiles entrapped half the

great statesmen of the age; while there was scarcely a crime within the

red catalogue of the law that was not laid to her charge; and yet,

with all these allegations against her, she was more sovereign in that

capital than the rightful queen of the land. This was the presence into

which I was to be introduced to-night, and--I frankly own it--I would

have rather confronted the searching scrutiny of the most penetrating of

men than meet the careless, half-bestowed glances of that woman! nor was

it at all unlikely that to such a test they wished now to subject me and

my pretensions.

It is far easier for many men to confront a personal danger, the peril

of life or limb, than to meet the trying difficulty of a slight before

the world. To myself, the former would be as nothing in comparison. I

could face any amount of peril in preference to the risk of a public

mark of depreciation, and from a woman, too! where redress was as

impossible as reply was useless.

It was already midnight ere I could muster courage to set out,--not that

the hour was inappropriate, for the Marchesa's receptions only began

when the opera was over. As I drove along the Chiaia, the crowd of

carriages told that this was a night of more than ordinary attraction,

and more than one equipage of the Court passed by, showing that some

members of the royal family would be present. This again terrified me.

Was royalty to be among the witnesses of my shame? When a man's thoughts

do take the turn of self-tormenting, what ingenuity will they not

exhibit,--what astonishing resources of annoyance! I am convinced that

my greatest enemy in life could never have inflicted a tenth part of

that suffering which now I experienced from my own fancies! Among the

thoughts which crossed my mind, one kept continually recurring, and made

an impression that my memory will probably never lose,--it was my doubt

whether I ought not to return and exchange my uniform for plain clothes,

and thus avoid exposing the epaulette of a French officer, and the proud

cordon I wore, to the chances of open insult.

This question was yet unsolved in my mind as I drove into the court-yard

of the palace. The turmoil and confusion of the scene--carriages

interlocked, poles smashing panels, and horses rearing--was an actual

relief to me, and I would have felt a heart-warm gratitude for any

accident that might have upset half the company, and broken up the

reception in disorder. Such "good-luck" was, however, not in store for

me. My calèche at length drew up at the door, and I handed my card with

my name to the major-domo, who stood at the top of the stairs with an

army of liveried lacqueys around him. "Le Comte de Creganne!" resounded

now through the spacious antechamber, and the voices of others took it

up, and the echo without repeated it, every syllable falling upon my

heart like the bang of a death-bell!

Although our progress was soon arrested by the dense crowd, and all

chance of moving farther, for a time at least, out of the question,

the lacquey continued to call my name aloud, with what I deemed a most

needless importunity of announcement. At last he ceased, leaving me to

the enjoyment of a momentary tranquillity in mixing with the crowd. It

was indeed but momentary; for the young attaché had made his way through

the throng, and whispered in my ear, "Let us retire this way, and I

'll lead you by another passage, otherwise you will run a great risk

of never being presented to the Marchesa." I could have told him that

I would have borne even this misfortune like a man; but I did not, and

merely followed him as he led the way through a suite of rooms, of which

only one was occupied, and that by a card-party.

The buzz and hum of voices apprised me that we were again approaching

the company, and suddenly, on opening a door, we found ourselves in a

small but gorgeously furnished chamber, where three or four ladies and

about a dozen men were assembled, while the main body of the guests

passed through in defile, each stopping to salute and say a few words to

a lady who did the honors of the reception. As her back was towards me,

I could only mark that she was tall, and of an air that was queenly in

state and dignity. The stars and decorations around her showed that

some of the party were princes of the blood, and others, ambassadors and

ministers of state.

"Wait where you are," whispered my companion; and he moved forward and

entered the crowd. I stood an eager spectator of the scene, in which,

despite all my anxieties, I could not but feel interested. It was the

first great review I had ever witnessed of that fashionable world

whose recognition and acceptance I so ardently coveted. Its slightest

gestures, its least and most insignificant observances, were all

matters of study to me. Every deep reverence, each motion of respectful

courtesy, were things to mark and imitate, and I was storing up many a

hint for future guidance, when I observed that a gentleman, whom I had

rightly conjectured to be a royal prince, appeared to press some remark

upon the "Marchesa," to which at last she replied, "I believe I must

follow your Royal Highness's counsel, and take a few minutes' rest;"

and, so saying, she dropped back from the group, and retired within a

few paces of where I stood.

"May I beg you to hand that chair, sir," said the Prince to me, and in

a tone in which I own a certain haughtiness seemed to rebuke my want of

thoughtfulness in not presenting it unbidden. I hastened to perform this

service. The lady turned to acknowledge it; our eyes met, and we stood

fixed and rooted to the spot, each speechless and pale with emotion. In

those few seconds I felt as if I had lived years.

"La Senhora Dias," murmured I, unconsciously to myself.

"Lupo!" ejaculated she, as if in answer, and she trembled from head to

foot.

"You have really over-exerted yourself," said the prince, as, taking her

hand, he pressed her down into a seat.

Her eyes never quitted me for an instant, and the expression of her

features became almost that of agonizing pain as she motioned me to

approach her. "Is it possible that I see before me my old friend the

Duke of------?" She stopped, and, with a look of entreaty I can never

forget, intimated that I should fill up the blank.

"Le Comte de Creganne, Madame," said I, coming to the rescue, "who is

but too happy to find himself remembered by the Marchesa de la Norada."

"Very true, Comte; I was confounding you with your constant companion,

the Duke de la Breanza; I hope he is well, and the dear duchess. And

you,--when did you arrive from the Brazils? I trust very lately, or you

have treated me shamefully."

Rapidly as these words were uttered, they were enough to give me the

"consigne" of what rank my intimate friends held, in what class we met,

and from whence I came. While I replied to her questions, she motioned

me to a seat beside her, and, with a smile and a courteous apology

to the prince for devoting herself to the old friend who had so

unexpectedly presented himself, she dropped her voice to a whisper and

said, "Not now, nor here, but to-morrow we will speak together."

"Enough," said I, rapidly; "I am your old and esteemed friend the Comte

de Creganne; you are not compromised in calling me so."

"Nor can your memory fail to recall me as a Lady of Honor at the

Brazilian court!"

And now some of the company had gathered around us, to most of whom she

presented me, always adding some few courteous expressions, indicative

of our ancient friendship, and of the pleasure she felt at our

unexpected meeting. If I have occasionally given way to those erratic

flights of fancy which led me to believe myself a scion of a noble

house, well born and nurtured, with wealth at my command and a high

station in store, all these delusions were nothing to the creative

efforts of _her_ imagination, who commenced by reminding me of a hundred

people who never existed, and places and incidents which were all as

unreal. How we did bewail the death of some, rejoice over the good

fortune of other "dear, dear friends" who had never breathed! and with

what pleasant laughter we remembered eccentricities and oddities that

once used to amuse us so much!

Never can I forget the look of astonishment of the young attache as he

came up and found me seated on the ottoman beside the Marchesa, with

her pet spaniel upon my lap, while my whole air was redolent of that

triumphant expression so unmistakably denoting security.

"I perceive," said he, with difficulty repressing his ill-humor, "that

Madame la Marchesa is acquainted with the Comte de Creganne."

"For many years, sir, the Comte and I have known each other, and I have

only to own my surprise that none of my friends at Naples ever mentioned

to me the arrival of one in every way so distinguished. But here is the

Marquese; I must present you, Comte." So saying, she introduced me to a

tall, pompous-looking elderly gentleman, who, it is but fair to add, did

not evince half so much satisfaction at sight of me as his wife showed.

And now was I the lion of the evening. I, who had walked the Chiaia

every day for weeks back without notice or recognition, and who might,

had the idea occurred to me, have fallen down and died without one to

pity me,--I became all of a sudden a most "interesting personage"! My

African campaign was exalted into a perfect career of glory, and

even _my_ modesty was pushed hard to accept the praises most lavishly

bestowed upon acts of heroism of which I had not even heard.

The Duke of Vallabretta, the younger brother of the king, was certain

he had often heard of me from his "friend De St. Cloud." He was quite

positive that I was the officer of dragoons who, with one squadron of

horse, captured "a Smala" defended by twelve hundred Arabs, while fully

one half of the illustrious cruelties of the Oran war was generously

laid to my charge. A dash of atrocity adds immensely to the charm of

heroism in Italian estimation; and so I discovered that various acts of

roasting prisoners, sending a cargo of noses to Toulon, and such like,

were exceedingly popular with the ladies, who regarded me as a modern

"Bayard."

Not all these sensations of triumph, however, gave me one half the

pleasure that I felt in trampling upon the little French attaché, whom

I persecuted with a proud disdain that nearly drove him mad. All my

ignorance of Neapolitan society, the obscurity in which I had lived

hitherto, I laid at his door. I deplored most feelingly to the prince

the inefficient mode in which we were represented at his court,

and promised to use my influence in effecting a change. I fear my

disposition is not so angelic as I usually conceive it, for I actually

taxed my ingenuity for little subjects of attack against the unlucky

diplomatist, and saw him at length retire from the salons crushed,

crest-fallen, and miserable.

Another consideration, perhaps, added venom to my malignity: I knew not

how short-lived might be my power, and determined to "make my running

while the course was free." The vicissitudes of fortune had often

reversed in one short day all the prospect I trusted to be the most

stable and certain; and, for the future, I was fully resolved never to

forego the stroke to-day for which my arm might be too weak to-morrow.

As I saw him depart, I felt like a naval hero when his enemy has struck,

and, in the pride of victory, abandoned myself to pleasure.

If the Marchesa watched me at first with an uneasy and anxious eye,

doubtful, perhaps, how I should acquit myself in that high and polished

world, I soon saw that her fears were allayed as she saw the easy

quietude of my manner, and that tranquil self-possession which is

supposed to be only acquired by long admixture with the world of

fashion. It was evident, too, that if any failure on my part would

entail disgrace, success was just as certain to do her honor and credit,

since I was a strong rebutting evidence against all those who denied

that the Marchesa was ever known or recognized before in the high

circles of a court.

"To-morrow, at noon," said she, as I made my bow at parting; and it was

not likely I should forget the appointment.

It was with very different feelings I drove up to the palace of

the Marchesa on the day following, from those I had experienced on

approaching it on the evening of the reception; nor was I long without

perceiving that my confidence was well founded. The Groom of the

Chambers received me with his most bland courtesy, and by his manner

showed that he expected my arrival.

Preceding me through a suite of rooms whose magnificence I had not time

to observe on the previous evening, he ushered me into a small chamber

leading into a conservatory, from which the view extended over the wide

Bay of Naples, and presented Vesuvius from base to summit. As I was

left by myself here for some minutes, I had leisure to notice the varied

elegance by which I was surrounded. Rare plants and flowers in jars of

costly porcelain; alabaster statues and rich bronzes appeared amid the

clustering foliage; and in the midst of all, two tiny swans, of the rare

breed of Morocco, lay tranquilly in a little basin, whose water spouted

from a silver fountain of most elaborate workmanship.

While yet gazing on the tasteful objects around, the Marchesa had

entered, and so noiselessly that she was at my side ere I knew it. Paler

than on the previous evening, she looked even handsomer; but in the

sunken eye and the wearied expression of the mouth I could see that she

had passed a sleepless night.

Having taken a seat upon a sofa, and motioned me to seat myself beside

her, she looked fixedly at me for several minutes without a word. At

last, in a voice of deep feeling, she said, "Do you remember the pledge

with which we parted? Do you recollect the oath by which you bound

yourself?'

"Perfectly, Señhora!" said I; "nor was I aware yesterday, till the very

moment of our meeting, in whose presence I was standing."

"But you had heard of me here?"

"Only as the Marchesa de la Norada, not as the Señhora."

"Hush! let that name never escape your lips; I believe you and trust

you. The commission I gave you was well and faithfully executed: were it

otherwise, and did I deem you false, it would not be difficult for me to

rid myself of the embarrassment. We live in a city where such things are

well understood." My blood ran cold at this threat, for I remembered the

accusation which hung over her, in Mexico. She saw what was passing in

my mind, and added, "You have nothing to fear; we shall be good friends

while you remain here; but that time must be brief. I cannot, I will

not, live a life of terror; a moment of impatience, an unguarded word,

a hasty expression of yours, might compromise me, and then--When can you

leave Naples?"

"To-morrow--to-day, if you desire it."

"That would be too hurried," she said thoughtfully. "We must not

encourage suspicion. Why are you here?"

I gave the restoration of my health as the reason, and then alluded to

the circumstances of my Spanish claim, which I had hoped Naples would

have proved a suitable place for pressing.

"Who knows of this transaction? What evidence have you of its truth?"

said she, hurriedly.

"The minister by whose order I was imprisoned, the Governor of Malaga,

his official underlings, all know of it."

"Enough. Now, by whom was the information given on which you were

arrested?"

"A man who called himself the Consul at Campecho, and to whose

early history I am disposed to suspect I have the clew, but to whom,

unfortunately, in a hasty moment, I betrayed that secret knowledge."

"And thus he dreads and hates you," said she, fixing her dark eyes

sternly on me.

"He rather fears me without reason," said I.

"But still you would have traded on that fear, had it served your

purpose?" reiterated she, with a pointedness that showed how the

application to her own case was uppermost in her thoughts.

"You are less than just to me, Señhora!" said I, proudly. "A variety of

circumstances led me to connect this man with a very unhappy

incident which took place years ago in England, and wherein his

conduct--supposing him to be the same--was base to the last degree.

This suspicion I was weak enough to let escape me. His enmity was the

consequence, and from it followed all the misfortunes I have suffered."

"Was he a murderer?"

"No,--not that."

"Nor a forger?--for methinks in English esteem such is the parallel

offence."

"In the case I speak of, forgery was the least of his crimes: he seduced

the wife of his friend and benefactor."

"Oh, the wretch!" exclaimed she, with a derisive smile that gave her

features--beautiful as they were--an almost demoniac expression. "I

trust he never prospered after such iniquity."

Not heeding the tone of sneer in which she uttered this, I replied,

"You are right, Señhora; he lived a life of terror and misery. He was

a coward; and the man he had injured never ceased to track him from

country to country. Over sea and land he followed him; the thirst for

vengeance stimulating a heart dead to every other emotion. Accident,

when I was a mere boy, brought me into close relation with poor

Broughton."

"With whom?" said she, grasping my wrist, while her eyes strained till

the very blood started in them.

"Sir Dudley Broughton," said I; but the words were not out ere she fell

senseless on the floor. I raised her, and placed her on a sofa; and

then, dipping her handkerchief in the fountain, bathed her temples and

her lips. But she gave no sign of returning animation; her arms dropped

powerless at either side; she did not even seem to breathe. What was

I to do? I knew not where to find a bell to summon the servants, even

should I dare to leave her. In my excitement, I believed that she was

dead, and that I had killed her; aud then there darted through my brain

the terrible conviction that this could be no other than Lady Broughton

herself,--the unhappy Lydia Delmar. With a long-drawn sigh she at length

awoke, and, opening her eyes, looked up at me. A convulsive shudder

speedily followed, and she closed them again, and remained still, with

her hands clasped tightly over her heart.

"Have I been dreaming a terrible dream," said she, at last, in a weak

and broken voice, "or are my dreadful thoughts realities? Tell me of

what were we speaking?"

I did not answer. I could not tell her of the sad theme, nor did I dare

to deceive her. In this dilemma I became silent; but my confusion did

not escape her, and with a voice, every syllable of which struck deep

into my heart, she said, "Is this secret your own, or have you ever

revealed it to another?"

"I have never told it, nor, indeed, till now, was the full mystery known

to myself."

These few words, which served to confirm her own wavering terrors, at

the same time that they showed how she herself had betrayed her dreadful

secret, increased her suffering, and for a space she seemed overwhelmed

by affliction.

"Let us speak of this no more," said she at last, in the same hurried

voice which once before had made me suspect the soundness of her

intellect. "I cannot, I dare not, trust myself to dwell upon this theme;

nor will I suffer any one to usurp an ascendency over me from terror.

No, sir; you shall not deceive yourself by such a delusion. I have

friends--great and powerful friends--who will protect me. I have money,

and can buy the aid that outstrips patronage. Beware, then, how you

threaten me!"

"You are unjust to me, lady," said I, calmly, but resolutely. "I never

meant to threaten. A mere accident hae put me in possession of a secret

which, while you live, none shall ever hear from my lips; nor need you

fear any allusion to it will ever escape me, to yourself."

"Then let us part. Let us see each other no more," said she, rising,

and approaching a small ivory cabinet which she unlocked. "See, here

is enough to satisfy the desire for mere money, if your heart be so set

upon wealth that it has no other idol. Take these, and these, and these;

they are gems of price, and taken from a royal crown. That necklace

of rubies once graced the shoulders of an empress; and here are rings,

whose value will buy long years of dissipation and excess."

"I must interrupt you, Señhora," said I, offended at the tone she

assumed towards me. "There is no need to 'buy me off;' I am ready to

take my leave,--to quit Naples within an hour,--and I pledge myself

that we shall never meet again, or if we do, as utter strangers to each

other."

"These were the terms of our contract once before," said she, fixing her

gaze steadfastly on me.

"And by whom broken, and how?" said I.

"True,--too true!" exclaimed she, in a voice of deep emotion. "Fate,

that did this, has doubtless other punishments in store for me! It

is plain, then, that I must trust you,--I, who can feel confidence in

none!"

"I do not seek for it, Señhora," replied I; "my offer is to leave this

city, where already I see but little prospect of urging my suit

with success. Why should we meet again in life, when both of us are

travelling opposite roads?"

"This suit of yours is, then, a real demand, founded upon an actual

loss,--matter of fact throughout?" This, although said in these few

words, had nothing offensive in its tone, and I replied by an assurance

of my good faith and veracity.

"Send me the memorial this evening; to-morrow, or the day after

at farthest, you shall have an answer. As for your demand upon the

Havannah, the banker is my own, and I can answer for your being

honorably dealt with; all your property in his keeping, I will

guarantee."

"If that be so, Señhora, I am indifferent about the Spanish Minister's

reply; I shall have wealth more than enough for all my desires, without

him."

"How do you call yourself in these papers?" asked she, hurriedly.

"El Condé de Cregano."

"And you were known by that title in Mexico?"

"Certainly; I have no other."

She stared at me fixedly for a minute or two, and then muttered to

herself, "By what pretension should _I_ question his rank!" then,

turning to me, said, "Señhor el Condé de Cregano, I receive the world at

large every evening save Saturday; that night I reserve for my friends.

Come as often as you can during the week, but never omit a Saturday;

visit me at the opera frequently; speak to me always when we meet in

public places; be my intimate friend, in fact, but not more,--you have

too much tact to be my admirer." With this she gave me her hand, which

I pressed respectfully to my lips, and bowing deeply, moved towards the

door.

"We understand each other," said she, calmly.

"Perfectly, Madame," replied I.

"Then never say, sir," resumed she, in a stern, determined voice, "never

say that you are not an adventurer; never dare to tell me that one who

so quickly assumes a part is not a professed actor on the great boards

of life, ready to take the character assigned him, be it broad farce

or comedy,--ay, or even tragedy, if needs were. Do not deny or seek

to contradict me; I did not care that your countship had fourteen

quarterings behind it,--nay, I like you even better as you are. There,

now you look natural and at your ease. Adieu, Monsieur le Comte."

"Adieu, Madame la Marquise," said I putting as much irony into my accent

as might repay her; and then we parted. Whatever her feelings, I know

not,--mine, I own, were scarcely of the pleasantest; prompting me to

make my residence at Naples as brief as might be, and to see no more of

my "dear friend of former years" than was absolutely indispensable.

Were I to dwell upon those portions of my history which afforded me the

highest amount of enjoyment, while passing I might linger upon the weeks

I spent in Naples as perhaps the very pleasantest of my life. The world

of fashion was new to me. All those fascinations to which habit renders

men either apathetic or indifferent, came fresh upon _me_. The outward

show of splendor in dress and jewels, gorgeous saloons, rare flowers,

exquisite pictures and statues, soon cease to astonish and amaze; but

it takes a long while ere the charm of intercourse with really brilliant

society begins to wear off, and ere a man recognizes a degree of

sameness in the pleasures and amusements of his fashionable friends.

I am not sure that the society which I frequented had not more power of

captivation than a more rigidly scrupulous circle, since, while exacting

all the observances of polished life, it yet admitted a degree of

liberty, almost of familiarity, among its members, that I have since

remarked is not common in the wider intercourse of the world.

Pretty women were not ashamed to look their best, and dress the most

becomingly; witty men were not chary of their smartness; courtiers were

confidential; statesmen were candid; men of the world unbent, as if in

a circle where their freedom would not be misinterpreted, and said

a hundred things that in other societies would have been, to say the

least, indiscreet. It is true that individuals were more discussed than

events, and that characters, not facts, formed the staple of the talk;

but how amusing was it, what stores of anecdote were opened, what

strange histories and curious illustrations of life unfolded! Pretension

was ridiculed, vulgarity exposed, stupidity laughed at, awkwardness

criticized, and want of tact condemned, with most unsparing ridicule;

but I am bound to own that there were few commendations reserved for

virtuous conduct or honorable action. The debtor side of the account was

full, but the credit had not an item on it!

No rank, however exalted, could escape the judgments of a "set" who,

with all the exclusiveness of fashion, affected a most democratic spirit

of equality. It was, however, a "communism" that assumed to start on the

basis of every one haviug at least ten thousand a year,--not so bad a

theory, were it only practicable.

I must not linger longer on this subject, on which I have only touched

to remark that here it was where I acquired that knowledge of forms

and conventionalities which constitute the tactique of life,--those

"gambits" and "openings," to use a chess phrase, by which you at once

obtain an advantage over an equal adversary, and secure yourself

against injury with even a superior player. I learned when to use an

illustration or a story; when to become a mere listener; how to assist

a slow man without his detecting the aid; and how to close a

discussion with an epigram,--and all this without the faintest show

of premeditation or the very slightest sign of forethought. While my

education as a man of the world was progressing, my material fortune was

also advancing. The Spanish Ambassador, who had referred my case to his

court, ascertained that I had been most infamously treated; that not

alone my rank and fortune were indisputable, but that the individual

on whose affirmation I was arrested was himself a Carlist spy, and the

noted agent of a great Northern power. In fact, so manifold were his

infractions against law, in every country in Europe, that the only

difficulty was to what particular power to hand him over, so many laying

claim to the honor of punishing him. In the end, Naples obtained

this distinction! and at the very period I was enjoying the luxurious

pleasures of that capital, "my friend the Consul" was expanding

his chest and his faculties in the less captivating career of a

galley-slave. "Fortune is just," said I, as I arranged my cravat at the

window which overlooked the Bay, on whose glassy surface some half-dozen

boats moved sluggishly, as the red and yellow rowers kept time to the

"stroke" by the clanking of their fetters.

Governments move slowly, particularly when the case is one of refunding

a previous spoliation; meanwhile they admitted my claim; and by way of

keeping me in good-humor, they sent me a cross of the Order of Isabella,

of the first class,--a very gratifying recognition of my noble birth

and merits. My intimacy with the Duke of Medina--the brother of the

king--obtained for me the Neapolitan Order; and thus was I decorated

with three very distinguished cordons, which I wore in my button-hole as

a "tricolor,"--a fact insignificant in itself; but I mention it here, as

many of my imitators have since that affected to be the inventors of the

method.

Periods of expectancy are generally deemed great trials, making inroads

upon the health, and sapping the energies of the mind. Such was not

my case here; I waited like one who loiters in some delicious garden,

surrounded with blooming flowers and sweet odors. The delays and

procrastinations of cabinets--for which the most profuse apologies

were made--I bore with a degree of calm equanimity that won for me

the appellation of a most finished gentleman; and thus was I almost

unconsciously perfecting myself in that grand element of breeding whose

triumph is "impassiveness."

There were moments when I actually dreaded the termination of my cause,

so agreeable had Naples become to me; but as the rich gamester is

certain to win, while the poor player is luckless ever, successes

crowded on me, because I was half indifferent to them.

Six months had now nearly elapsed since my arrival at Naples, and I was

paying a morning visit to the Marchesa, whom I was engaged to accompany

to a grand _déjeuner_, to be given on board of a British ship of war in

the Bay. It was one of those gorgeous days of brilliant coloring, which,

in Italy, seem to exaggerate the effect of landscape, and defy all

efforts of art to imitate; the scene was heightened, too, by the objects

moving across the bay. The various boats, with ensigns floating and

music playing; the swift "La-teeners," skimming along the glassy

surface, almost without a breath of wind; and then the great

three-decker herself, in all the pride of her majestic size, with flags

of every nation fluttering from her halyards,--were splendid adjuncts to

the picture.

"Here are three letters for you, Monsieur le Comte," said the Marchesa,

"they came in the Spanish Minister's bag this morning; but I suppose

there is nothing sufficiently interesting in them to withdraw your

thoughts from that magnificent panorama."

Of course I affected concurrence in the sentiment, and thrust them into

my pocket with assumed indifference. The room soon after filled with

arriving visitors, and among the rest the Spanish Ambassador.

"Ha, Señhor Condé," said he, approaching me, "let me offer my warmest

felicitations. How happy am I to be the means through which your good

tidings have reached you!"

I bowed, smiled, and seemed charmed, without the slightest notion

wherein lay my good fortune. His practised eye, however, soon detected

my game, and he said, "You have received your letters, I hope?"

"Yes," replied I, carelessly; "the Marchesa has been kind enough to give

them to me."

"And you have read them?" asked he again.

"Not yet," said I; "I make it a rule never to risk the pleasure of a

happy day by opening a letter at hazard."

"What if its contents were but to increase the enjoyment; what if the

tidings were to fill up the very measure of your wishes, Señhor?"

"In that case," rejoined I, as coldly as before, "they will be very

acceptable to-morrow morning; and thus I shall have gained two days of

happiness, _vice_ one."

"Admirable philosophy, indeed," said he. "Still, I must be pardoned for

interfering with its exercise. I shall therefore take upon me to inform

the honorable company that her Majesty, my royal mistress, has named the

Count de Cregano a Grand Cordon of the Fleece, in consideration of

his distinguished services in arranging the Mexican debt; that all his

property, taken from him under a false and traitorous imputation, shall

be at once restored; that any additional recompense he may demand for

his imprisonment and other inconveniences incurred shall be immediately

accorded; and that all Envoys and Ministers of the Court of Spain

are instructed to receive the Count de Cregano with every honor and

distinction, affording him every protection, and facilitating him in the

prosecution of any project in which he may be interested."

This speech, delivered in a very imposing manner, was followed by a

round of felicitation from the assembled company the Marchesa offering

me her hand in congratulation, and whispering the words, "How soon?"

"To-morrow, if I must," replied I, sorrowfully.

"To-morrow be it," said she, and turned away hastily.

The information conveyed to me by the Ambassador was what formed the

substance of two of the letters; the third I contrived to peep into

unobserved, was a formal notification from the Havannah that my bills

for the amount in the bankers' hands would be accepted and negotiated at

a well-known house in Paris. Thus, then, and in one moment, was I once

more rich,--the possessor of immense wealth, and not alone of mere

fortune, but of all the honors and dignities which can grace and adorn

it. Of course I became the hero of the day. To me was intrusted the arm

of the Marchesa as we descended to the pier; to me was accorded the seat

of honor beside her in the boat. All the pleasant flatteries that are

reserved for rich men were heaped upon me, and I felt that life had but

one prize more with which to fill up the most ambitious of my cravings.

That, alas! could never be,--Donna Maria was the wife of another; and

thus should I learn that complete happiness is never to be the lot of

any mere mortal!

The fête on board the "Tariffa" was very splendid; but it had another

charm still more rarely met with,--I mean that hearty cordiality which

graces every entertainment where British sailors are the hosts, their

courtesy being blended with an actual warmth of hospitality that wins

even upon the coldest guest, and gives a tone of friendliness to the

most promiscuous gathering.

Every one appeared to experience the influence of this peculiar magic,

and all gave way to the impulse that suggested the fullest enjoyment of

the hour.

To waltzes had succeeded the manolo and the bolero; dances of the wild

regions of Calabria and Sicily were performed by men of noble birth,

the petty princes of those countries; and all were vying who should

introduce something new and unknown to the rest, when, suddenly, the

distant sound of the church bells of the city was borne along the water,

announcing the "Vinti quatro," as it is called,--the hour of evening

prayer. In a moment a sudden air of devotional seriousness spread itself

over the company, and most bent their heads in pious reverence while

they recited to themselves the words of the "Angelus." If there seemed,

to the sense of English Protestantism, something strange and unnatural

in this great revulsion, there was a degree of earnestness and sincerity

in the features of the worshippers that showed their piety to be

unfeigned; and here I might leave the theme, were it not for an incident

which, taking place at the same moment, will remain forever associated

in my mind with that brief interval of prayer.

The hour of sunset, or, as the Neapolitans term it, the "Vinti quatro,"

is that in which the galley-slaves, employed from dawn of day at convict

labor, return to their prisons; and while the streets at that period

exhibit long lines of men whose terrible appearance needs not the

heightening accessories of a shocking dress and a heavy lumbering chain

to pronounce them criminals, over the bay are seen boats moving in sad

procession, the clanking of the fetters creaking mournfully upon the

ear, and sounding like the wail of hopeless captivity.

No scene of pleasurable enjoyment can stand the contrast of such a

sight; the revulsion is too sudden and too painful from the light

frivolity of mirth to the terrible reality of suffering and sorrow. To

escape, therefore, from the gloomy picture, the officers of the vessel

endeavored to withdraw their guests from the deck to the shelter of the

cabin. The change was accomplished well and naturally, and we were

all gathered between decks in that turmoil and confusion which form no

insignificant part of the success of every entertainment, the buzz

of talking and the sounds of pleasant laughter were heard on every

side,--when suddenly a cry was heard above, and then the loud voice of

the officer of the watch, commanding a boat to be instantly manned and

lowered.

A hundred conjectures at once ran round as to the meaning of the order;

but one of the officers hastily entering, a few minutes later, put an

end to all guessing, by informing us that a very dreadful incident had

just occurred within a short distance from where we lay. "You may have

remarked a handsome yacht, which anchored last night in the bay, coming

up from the eastward: she belonged to an English gentleman, with whose

name we were not acquainted, but whose conduct is calculated to confirm

all that Frenchmen are accustomed to say of our national taste for

eccentricity, even in crime. It would seem that at an early hour this

morning he landed at the Mole, and by means of letters with which he

was provided to the Minister of Police, obtained leave to inspect

the different prisons of the city, and to pass under the most minute

examination all those condemned to the galleys for life. As already all

those who work at Castelamare had been sent away, he obtained an order

to visit the galleys there, being determined, as it would seem, to

leave nothing unseen. On reaching Castelamare, it is said that he again

commenced his tour of inspection, going over the roll of the prisoners,

with the muster-book in his hand, as if to compare their features with

the crimes alleged against them, and scrutinizing each with a most

searching look. The visit lasted till nigh evening; and although the

governor was not a little astonished at the proceeding of the stranger,

still less was he prepared for the singular request which succeeded:

it was, that he might be permitted to return to Naples in one of the

convict boats instead of in his own gig. The demand might have been

treated lightly, or altogether refused, but that the Englishman's

appearance and manner indicated rank, while the letter he carried from

the minister showed him to be one with claims for consideration. The

governor, therefore, gave the permission, smiling at the same time at

a caprice which could not have proceeded from the native of any other

country.

"The Englishman took his seat in the stern of the boat, and, as I am

told by the steersman, never spoke nor moved for nigh an hour's time,

muffling himself up in his cloak so that his very face was concealed;

he neither cast his eyes over the bay, nor looked towards the shore, but

sat like one in deep reflection. As we neared the 'Tariffa,'" said my

informant, "our passenger affected to feel cold and chilly,--he might

have been so, since the evening breeze was just springing up,--and said

that he would like to row for a spell, just to warm himself. The petty

officer in charge explained that the request could not be complied with,

since, amongst other reasons, the men were chained two and two on every

bench, and then obliged to tug at the same oar.

"The Englishman, who throughout the day had invariably overruled every

objection opposed to him, grew only more positive in his demand, and

at last produced the minister's order, to strengthen his proposal; and

finally said, that as he had obtained the permission to learn all he

could of the condition of the convicts, he was determined not to depart

without experiencing in his own person the amount of labor exacted from

them. 'You shall chain me to that fellow in the bow of the boat,' said

he, 'for I have my doubts that this same punishment is not equal to what

our own sailors perform every day, as a mere duty.'

"I need not dwell upon the arguments he used, and the reason he pressed;

and although I have not heard it, I have little doubt that bribery

was among the rest. His demand was granted, and he was actually placed

beside the convict, and his left wrist enclosed in the same fetter with

the other's right.

"His face became almost purple as he grasped the oar, and his eyes

glared fiercely round upon his fellow-laborer, like the red and staring

orbs of a wild beast. 'So dreadful was the expression of his face,' said

the steersman, 'that I believed him to be insane; and a shocking fear of

evil consequences shot through me for having yielded to him.'

"I at once called out to the crew to ship their oars, determining to

make him resume his place beside me. The order was obeyed by the bow-oar

as by the rest. I was then about to issue a command for him to be

released when, with a yell that I shall never forget, he sprang up in

the boat, and then, calling out something in English which I could not

understand, he seized his comrade by the throat and shook him violently.

"The convict--himself a strong man, yet in the prime of life--seemed

nothing in the grasp of the other, who held him at arm's length, as

though he were a child; and then, letting go his hold, clasping him

round the waist with both arms, he jumped into the sea.

"They were seen in mortal conflict for a second or two as they sank in

the clear water, but they never rose to the surface; the weight of the

massive fetters and their own struggles soon finished their sufferings!"

Such was the terrible story which now broke in upon the gay current of

our festivity, and threw a gloom over a scene of brilliant pleasure.

Of course various surmises as to the motive of this fearful act were

uttered, but they all tended to the conclusion that it proceeded from

insanity, which occasionally displays amongst its wonderful phenomena

all the premeditation and circumspection of accomplished guilt.

There is that of solemnity about an event of this nature that even

frivolity itself stands rebuked by, and so, now, instead of resuming the

occupations of pleasure, many took their leave suddenly; and of those

who still remained, but one topic engrossed the conversation,--that of

madness as an element in all great cases of guilt.

Of course, as in all similar discussions, the superiority lay with those

who, with more readiness of expression, also possessed greater resources

in anecdote and illustration; and of these the greater number were

disposed to believe that all great criminality is allied with deranged

intellect. The Marchesa, however, took the opposite side, and insisted

that the passion which prompted to the most terrible and appalling acts

was perfectly consistent with right reason and sound judgment.

"It is too rash in us," said she, "to assume a mere blind impulse in

cases even where recognized insanity exists. Were we to know the secrets

of the human heart, we might, perhaps, see a long-cherished purpose in

acts which appear to be dictated by momentary passion. These impulses

may be excessive, ill-directed, and ill-judging; but still they may have

their origin in some train of thought where generous feelings and noble

aspirations mingle. Witness those heroic--for they are, after all,

heroic--assassinations of the student Sandt and Charlotte Corday. What

a perfect abrogation of self did these acts evince; what consummate

devotion to a cause! Deeply as we may condemn the horrid nature of

the crime, it would be a great error to class these men with vulgar

criminals, or deny to them the motives, at least, of something great."

I am not able--were I even disposed--to repeat all the ingenious

arguments by which the Marchesa supported her opinion, nor the instances

she so readily adduced in support of it. She became highly excited by

the theme, and soon, by the eloquence of her words and the fascinations

of her manner, enchained the whole company in a mute attention around

her.

It was just as she concluded a very animated and glowing description of

that condition of the human mind when, by a volcanic effort, as it were,

the long-buried flames burst forth, to scatter ruin and destruction on

every side, that a young officer entered the cabin, and stood fascinated

by the powers of her fervid eloquence.

"Well, Mr. Hardy," said the Captain, recalling the youth's attention to

duty, "have you been on board of her?"

"Yes, sir, she is an English yacht, the 'Firefly,' and her late

owner was an English baronet, whose name I have written down in my

pocket-book."

The Captain took the note-book from the young officer's hand, and, after

reading the name, said, "If I mistake not, this is the same person that

once was so well known in London life. Most of the present company must

have heard of the rich and eccentric Sir Dudley Broughton."

A low groan broke from me, and I turned my eyes slowly and stealthily

towards the end of the table, where the Marchesa sat. Not a word, not

the faintest sound, had issued from her lips; but she sat still and

motionless, her lips slightly parted, and her eyes staring straight

before her. The pallor of her features was that of death itself; and,

indeed, the rigid contour of the cheeks and the firm tension of the

muscles gave no evidence of life.

"You are ill, Madame la Marchesa," said a gentleman who sat beside her;

but as she made no reply, several now turned towards her, to press their

attentions and suggest advice. She never spoke,--indeed, she seemed

not to hear them,--but sat with her head erect, and her arms rigidly

stretched out on either side, motionless as a statue.

The shocking incident that had occurred, and the discussion which

followed it, were sufficient to account for this sudden attack in one

whose nervous temperament was so finely strung; but as she showed no

signs of recovering consciousness, nor gave the slightest indication of

rallying, it was decided at once that she should be conveyed to shore,

where in her own house medical aid might be had recourse to.

I was one of those who assisted to carry her to the boat, and sat beside

her afterwards, and held her hand in mine; but she never recognized

me; her hand, too, was cold and clammy, and the fingers felt rigid and

cramped. The stern, impressive look of her features, the cold stare

of her fixed eyes, were terrible to behold,--far more so than even the

workings of mere bodily sufferings.

During the passage to the shore, at the landing itself, and on our way

to the Palazzo, she remained in the same state; nor did she ever evince

any trait of consciousness till she reached the foot of the great

staircase, where a crowd of servants, in the richest liveries, awaited

to offer their services. Then suddenly she moved her head from side to

side, regarding the crowd with a glance of wild and terrific meaning;

she raised her hand to her brow, and passed it slowly across her

forehead. For an instant it seemed as if the lethargic paroxysm was

about to pass away, for her features softened into a look of calm but

melancholy beauty. This, too, glided away, and her mouth settled into a

hard and rigid smile. It was the last change of all, for she had become

an idiot!

From that hour forth she never spoke again! she never knew those about

her, neither missing them while absent, nor recognizing them when they

reappeared. She had none of the childish wilfulness of others in her

sad condition, nor did she show the likings and dislikings they usually

manifest; and thus she lingered on to her death.

Of her secret I was the sole depositary; and from that hour to this, in

which I write, it has never escaped my lips.

CHAPTER XXXIV. CONCLUSION

I had few inducements to prolong my stay at Naples. The society in which

I moved had received a shock so terrible that for some time, at least,

it could not hope to recover, and an air of gloom and despondency

prevailed, where so lately all had worn the livery of pleasure.

I made my farewell visit, therefore, at the court, and the various

embassies, and set out for Paris. This time, grown wiser by experience,

I did not seek to astonish the world by any gorgeous display of my

riches. I travelled with but two carriages, one of which contained my

luggage; the other, a light "coupé," I occupied alone. My route lay

through Rome and Florence, across the Apennines to Milan, and thence, by

the glorious scenery of the Splügen, into Switzerland; but I saw little

of the varied scenes through which I journeyed. My whole thoughts were

engaged upon the future.

I had once more won the great prize in the world's lottery, and I never

ceased catechizing myself in what way I should exercise my power.

From what I had already observed of life, the great mistake of rich men

seemed to me, their addiction to some one pursuit of pleasure, which

gradually gained an undue ascendency over their minds, and exercised at

last an unwonted degree of tyranny. The passion for play, the love of

pictures, the taste for company-seeing, the sports of the field, and so

on, ought never to be allowed any paramount place, or used as pursuits;

all these things should be simply employed as means of obtaining an

ascendency over other men, and of exercising that sway which is never

denied to success.

Some men are your slaves because your cook is unrivalled, or your cellar

incomparable: others look up to you because your equipages exhibit an

elegance with which none can vie; because your thoroughbreds are larger,

show more bone, and carry the highest condition. Others, again, revere

you for your Vandykes and your Titians, your Rembrandts and Murillos,

your illuminated missals, your antique marbles. To every section of

society you can exhibit some peculiar and special temptation, which, in

their blind admiration, they refer to as an attribute of yourself.

Your own fault is it if they ever discover their error! The triumphs

of Raphael and Velasquez shed a reflected light upon him who possesses

them; and so of each excellence that wealth can purchase. You stand

embodied in the exercise of your taste, and in your own person receive

the adulation which greatness and genius have achieved.

To accomplish this, however, requires infinite tact and a great

abrogation of self. All individuality must be merged, and a new

character created, from the "disjecta membra" of many crafts and

callings.

To have any one inordinate passion is to betray a weak spot in one's

armor of which the cunning will soon take advantage. Such were among my

meditations as I rolled along towards Paris; and so long as I journeyed

alone, with no other companionship than my own thoughts, these opinions

appeared sage and well reasoned; but how soon were they routed as

I drove into that gorgeous capital, and saw the full tide of its

pleasure-loving inhabitants as it rolled proudly past! How vain to

reason farther upon the regulation of a life to which wealth set no

limits! how impossible to restrain one's self within the barriers of

cold prudential thought, where all was to be had for asking!

Ah, Con, your philosophy was excellent while, sitting in the corner of

your coupe, you rolled along unnoticed, save by the vacant stare of some

vigneron in a blue cotton nightcap, or some short-legged wench in wooden

"sabots;" but now that you stand in the window of your great hotel in

the Place Vendôme and see the gathering crowd which inquires, who is the

illustrious arrival? your heart begins to beat quicker and fuller; you

feel like a great actor, for whom the house is already impatient; nor

is the curtain to remain longer down. You are scarcely an hour in

Paris when your visitors began to call. Here are cards without

number,--officers in high command, courtiers, ministers, and

aides-de-camp of those whose rank precludes the first visit. The "place"

is like a fair, with its crush of equipages, the hotel is actually

besieged. Every language of Europe is heard within its "porte-cochère,"

and your own chasseur is overwhelmed with questionings enough to drive

him distracted.

Is it any wonder how the poor man adulates wealth, when those in high

station--the great and titled of the earth--are so ready to worship and

revere it!

My first care was, of course, to present myself before the Prince,

my gracious master, and I drove at once to the Tuileries. There was

a reception that morning by the King, and the Duc de St. Cloud led me

forward and presented me to his Majesty, with a very eulogistic account

of my services in Africa.

The King listened most graciously to the narrative, and then, with

a cordial courtesy that at once put me at my ease, asked me several

questions about my campaigns, all ingeniously contrived to be

complimentary to me.

"Yours is not originally a Spanish family, Count; I fancy the name is

Celtic."

"Yes, Sire, we came from Ireland," said I, blushing in spite of myself.

"Ah, very true. There was always a great interchange of races between

the two nations. And have you never tried to trace back among your Irish

ancestors, so as to learn who are the lineal descendants of your house?"

"I have been hitherto, Sire, rather a man of action than of thought or

reflection. To obtain possession of a property belonging to my family,

I undertook a journey to, and a long residence in, Mexico; and although

successful in this, a subsequent misfortune deprived me of all I owned,

and left me actually in want. The good fortune which led me to take

service under your Majesty has, however, never deserted me, and I am

enabled once again to assume the station that belonged to me."

The King heard me with apparent pleasure, and after a few generalities

about Paris and my acquaintances, said: "His Royal Highness the Duc de

St. Cloud has asked me to appoint you on my personal staff. There is

not at the present a vacancy, but you shall be named as an extra

aide-de-camp in the meanwhile."

Overwhelmed by this distinction, I could only bow my gratitude in

silence; and, with an air and show of great devotion, I retired from the

royal presence. Thus did proper feeling suggest the truest politeness;

for had I been more assured, the chances were I should have endeavored

to say something, and consequently committed a very grievous breach of

etiquette.

The following day I received an invitation to dine at Court. The company

was numerous, and among them I discovered the young English attaché who

had so insolently treated my demands on my first visit to Paris. With

what sovereign contempt did I now look down upon him! He was there,

exactly as I left him, muddling away in the petty details of his little

routine life,--signing a passport or copying a despatch, playing off the

airs of grand seigneur to couriers and laquais de place, while in the

same time I had won honors and rewards upon the field of battle, and now

stood while the Prince leaned upon my arm and chatted familiarly over

the assembled company. Nothing gave me a more confident sense of my own

standing in the world than the feeling with which I now regarded those

whom once I looked up to with a kind of awe. It is precisely as we

discover that the hills which in childhood we believed to be gigantic

mountains are mere hillocks, that in after life we find out how

indescribably small are many of those we used to think of as "high and

mighty."

I therefore sneered down my poor attaché, and as I passed him, I believe

I even suffered my sabre to jar against his leg, not without hoping that

he might notice the slight, and seek satisfaction for it. In this I was

disappointed, and I left him, never to trouble my head more about him.

Among the pleasures which awaited me in Paris, none gave me more sincere

satisfaction than the renewal of my acquaintance with De Minérale, who,

however, could never believe that my good fortune was other than some

lucky accident of my African campaign.

"Come, out with it," he would say. "You robbed a 'Smala,' you pillaged

a 'Deira,' or something of the sort. Tell me frankly how it was, and, on

my honor, I 'll never print it till you 're dead and gone. In fact, if

you persist in refusing, I 'll give you to the world, with name in full.

I 'll describe you as a fellow that picked up a treasure in some small

island of the Mediterranean, and turned millionnaire after being a

pirate."

"Put me down for fifty copies of the book," said I, laughing; "I'm rich

enough now to encourage the small-fry of literature."

Thus did we often jest with each other, and we met continually; for

when not invited out myself, I gave entertainments at home, at which

I assembled various members of that artistic set in which I had once

moved,--a very different order of society from that in which I mixed in

Naples, and, I am free to own, with far less claim to real agreeability.

The "wits by profession" were not only less natural than the smart

people of society, but they wearied you by the exactions of their

drollery. Not to laugh at the sorriest jest was to discredit the

jester, and the omission became a serious thing when it touched a man's

livelihood. In fact, from first to last, in whatever country I

have lived, I have ever found that the best--that is, the highest

society--was always the most agreeable as well as the most profitable.

Its forms were not alone regulated upon the surest basis of comfort, but

its tone ever tended to promote whatever was pleasurable, and exclude

everything that could hurt or offend. So is it, your great aristocrats

are very democratic in a drawing-room,--professing and practising

the most perfect equality; while your "rights of man" and "popular

sovereignty advocate" insists upon always being the king of his company.

Forgive this digression, my dear reader, if for nothing else than

because it shall be the last time of my offending.

I had now enjoyed myself at Paris about two months, or thereabouts,

in which, having most satisfactorily arranged all my monetary matters,

and--besides having a considerable sum in the English funds--found

myself down in the "Grand Livre" for a couple of million of francs,--a

feature which made me a much-caressed individual in that new social

order just then springing up, called the "financière" class, one which,

if with few claims to the stately manners of the "Faubourg," numbered as

many pretty women and as agreeable ones as could be found anywhere.

Had I been matrimonially disposed, this set would certainly have been

dangerous ground for me,--the attentions which beset me being almost

like adulation. The truth was, however, Donna Maria had left an

impression which comparison with others did not efface. I felt, if I

were to marry, it might as well be for high rank and family influence,

since I never could do so for love. My nobility required a little

strengthening, nor was there any easier or more efficient mode of

supporting it than by an alliance with some of those antiquated houses

who, with small fortunes but undiminished pride, inhabited the solitudes

of the "Faubourg St. Germain." I cannot afford space here to recount

my adventures in that peaceful and deserted quarter, whose amusements

ranged between masses and tric-trac,--where Piety and Pope Joan divided

the hours. The antiquity of my family and the pureness of my Castilian

blood! had been the pretensions which obtained admission for me into

these sacred precincts; and there, I must say, everything seemed old and

worn out: the houses, the salons, the furniture, the masters, servants,

horses, carriages,--all were as old as the formalities and the opinions

they professed.

Even the young ladies had got a premature cast of seriousness that took

away every semblance of juvenility. Whether from associating with them,

or that I had voluntarily conformed to the staid Puritanism of their

manners, I cannot say, but my other acquaintances began to quiz and

rally me about my "Legitimist" air, and even said that the change had

been remarked at Court.

This was an observation that gave me some uneasiness, and I hastened off

to the Duc de St. Cloud, whose kindness had always admitted me to the

most open intercourse.

"It is quite true, Creganne," said he, "we all remarked that you were

coquetting with the 'vieux,'--the old ones of the Faubourg; and although

_I_ had never any misgivings about you, _others_ were less charitable."

"What is to be done, then?" said I, in my distress at the bare thought

of seeming ungrateful.

"I'll tell you," said he: "there's the post of secretary of embassy

just vacant at Madrid; your knowledge of the language, and your Spanish

blood, admirably fit you for the mission. Shall I ask for it in your

behalf?"

I could scarcely speak, for gratitude. I was longing for some "charge,"

some public station that would give me a recognized position as well as

wealth.

The "Duc" hurried from the room, and after an absence of half-an-hour

came back, laughing, to say: "This was quite a brilliant idea of mine,

for the Minister of Foreign Affairs was just in conversation with the

King, and seeing that they were both in good humor, and discussing the

Madrid mission, I even asked for the post of ambassador for you,--ay,

and, what's better, obtained it, too."

I could not believe my ears as I heard these words, and the Prince was

obliged to repeat his tidings ere I could bring myself to credit them.

"And now for a little plan of my own," resumed he; "I am about to make

a short visit to England, and, better still, to Ireland. You must

accompany me. Of course I travel 'incog.,' which means that my real rank

will be known to all persons in authority; but, avoiding all state and

parade, I shall be able to see something of that remarkable country of

which I have heard so much."

I acknowledged a degree of curiosity to the full as great, but bewailed

my ignorance of the language as a great drawback to the pleasures of the

journey.

"But you do know a little English," said the Prince.

"Not a word," said I, coolly. "When a child, I believe I could speak

it fluently,--so I have heard; but since that period I have utterly

forgotten all about it." This may seem to have been a gratuitous fiction

on my part, but it was not so; and to prove it, I must tell the reader

a little incident which was running in my mind at that moment. A certain

Tipperary gentleman, whose name is too familiar for me to print, once

called upon a countryman in Paris, and, after ringing stoutly at the

bell, the door was opened by a very smartly dressed "maid," whose

grisette cap and apron immediately seemed to pronounce her to be French.

"Est Capitaine,--est Monsieur O'Shea ici?" asked he, in considerable

hesitation.

"Oh, sir! you're English," exclaimed the maid, in a very London accent.

"Yes, my little darlin', I was asking for Captain O'Shea."

"Ah, sir, you 're Irish!" said she, with a very significant fall of the

voice. "So," as he afterwards remarked, "my French showed that I was

English, and my English that I was Irish."

Now, although my French would have passed muster from Cannes to Caen, my

English had something of the idiomatic peculiarity of the gentleman

just alluded to; and were I only to speak once in Ireland, I must

be inevitably detected. There was then no choice for it; I must even

consent to talk through an interpreter,--a rather dull situation for a

man about to "tour it" in Ireland!

As the Prince's journey was a secret in Paris, our arrangements were

made with great caution and despatch. We travelled down to Boulogne with

merely one other companion, an old Colonel Demaunais, who had been for

some years a prisoner in England, and spoke English fluently, and with

only three servants; there was nothing in our "cortège" betraying the

rank of his Royal Highness.

Apartments had been prepared for us at Mivart's, and we dined each

day at the French Embassy,--going to the Opera in the evening, and

sight-seeing all the forenoon, like genuine "country cousins." The Court

was in Scotland; but even had it been in London, I conclude that the

Prince would have been received in some mode which should not have

attracted publicity.

Ten days sufficed for "town," and we set out for Ireland, to visit which

his Royal Highness was all impatience and eagerness.

Never can I forget the sensations with which I landed on that shore,

which, about a dozen years before, I had quitted barefooted and hungry!

Was the change alone in me; or what had come over the objects, to

make them so very different from what they once were? The hotel that

I remembered to have regarded as a kind of palace, where splendor and

profusion prevailed, seemed now dirty and uncared-for; the waiters

slovenly, the landlord rude, the apartments mean, and the food

detestable! The public itself, as it paraded on the pier, was not that

gorgeous panorama I once saw there,--the mingled elegance and fashion I

used to regard with such eyes of wonderment and envy. What had become of

them? Good looks there were, and in abundance,--for Irish women will

be pretty, no matter what changes come over the land; but the men! good

lack, what a strange aspect did they present! Without the air of fashion

you see in Paris, or that more strongly marked characteristic of style

and manliness the parks of London exhibit, here were displayed a kind

of swaggering self-sufficiency whose pretension was awfully at variance

with the mediocrity of their dress, and the easy jocularity that leered

from their eyes. Some were aquatics, and wore Jersey shirts and frocks,

loose trousers, and low shoes; but they overdid their parts, and lounged

like Tom Cooke in a sea-piece.

Others appeared as _élégans_, and were even greater burlesques on the

part. It was quite clear, however, that these formed no portion of the

better classes of the capital, and so I hastened to assure the Prince,

whose looks bespoke very palpable disappointment.

In Dublin, however, the changes were greater than I expected. It was not

alone that I had seen other and greater capitals, where affluence and

taste abound, and where, while the full tide of fashion sets "in" in one

quarter, the still more exciting course of activity and industry flows

along in another; but here an actual decline had taken place in the

appearance of everything. The shops, the streets, the inhabitants, all

looked in disrepair. There were few carriages, nothing deserving the

name of equipage,--none of that stir and movement which characterize a

capital. It all looked like a place where people dwelt to wear out

their old houses and old garments, and to leave both behind them when

no longer wearable. Windows mended with paper, pantaloons patched with

party-colored cloth, "shocking bad hats," mangy car-drivers, and great

troops of beggars of every age and walk of mendicancy, were met with

even in the best quarters; and with all these signs of poverty and

decay, there was an air of swaggering recklessness in every one that was

particularly striking. All were out of temper with England and

English rule; and "Ireland for the Irish" was becoming a popular cant

phrase,--pretty much on the same principle that blacklegs extinguish the

lights when luck goes against them, and have a scramble for "the bank"

in the dark. The strangest of all was, however, that nobody seemed to

have died or left the place since I remembered it as a boy. There went

the burly barrister down Bachelor's Walk, with the same sturdy stride

I used to admire of yore,--his cheek a little redder, his presence

somewhat more portly, perhaps, but with the self-same smile with which

he then cajoled the jury, and that imposing frown with which he repelled

the freedom of a witness. There were the same civic magistrates, the

same attorneys, dancing-masters,--ay, even the dandies had not been

replaced, but were the old crop, sadly running to seed, and marvellously

ill cared for.

Even the Castle officials were beautifully consistent, and true to their

old traditions; they were as empty and insolent as ever. It was the

English pale performed over again at the Upper Castle Yard, and all

without its limits were the kerns and "wild Irish" of centuries ago.

How is a craft like this ever to take the sea, thought I, with misery

and mutiny everywhere! With six feet of water in the hold, the crew are

turning out for higher wages, and ready to throw overboard the man who

counsels them to put a hand to the pump!

But what had I to do with all this? Nor would I allude to it here, save

to mention the straits and difficulties which beset me, to account for

changes that I had never anticipated.

We dined everywhere, from that viceregal palace in a swamp, to the musty

halls of the Chief Secretary in the Castle. We partook of a civic feast,

a picnic at the waterfall; we had one day with the military! And here,

by the way, I recognized an old acquaintance of other days, the Hon.

Captain De Courcy. He was still on the staff, and still constant to his

ancient flame, who, with a little higher complexion and more profuse

ringlets,--it is strange how color and hair go on increasing with

years,--looked pretty much what I remembered her of yore.

"You had better wait for your groom, Mons. Le Comte," said De Courcy to

me at the review, as I was dismounting to speak to some people in the

crowd of carriages. "Don't trust those fellows. I once had a valuable

mare stolen by one of those vagrants, and, what was worse, the rascal

rode her at a steeplechase the same day."

"Pas possible!" exclaimed I, at the bare thought of such an indignity.

"What became of the young villain?"

"I forget, now, whether I let him off, or whether he was publicly

whipped; but I am certain he never came to good."

I felt a flush of anger rise to my cheek at this speech, but I checked

my passion; and well I might, as I thought upon my _own_ condition and

upon _his_. To have expended any interest or sympathy as to the

boy, besides, would have been absurd, and I was silent. Among our

invitations, was one to the house of a baronet who resided in a midland

county, only a few miles from my native place. We arrived at night at

Knockdangan Castle, an edifice of modern gothic style, which means a

marvellously expensive residence, rendered almost uninhabitable by the

necessity of having winding stairs, narrow corridors, low ceilings, and

pointed windows. The house was full of company, the greater part of

whom had arrived unexpectedly; still, our reception was everything that

genial hospitality could dictate. One of the drawing-rooms had been

already converted into a kind of barrack-room, with half-a-dozen beds in

it; and now the library was to be devoted to the Prince, while a small

octagon tower leading off it, about the size and shape of a tea-tray,

was reserved for me. If these arrangements were attended with

inconvenience, certainly nothing in the manner of either host or hostess

showed it. They and their numerous family of sons and daughters seemed

to take it as the most natural thing in life to be thrown into disorder

to accommodate their friends; not alone their friends, but their

friends' friends: for so proved more than half of the present company.

Several of "the boys," meaning the sons of the host, slept at houses

in the neighborhood; we actually bivouacked in a little temple in

the garden. There seemed no limit to the contrivances of our kind

entertainers, either in the variety of the plans for pleasure, or the

hearty good-nature with which they concurred in any suggestion of the

guests. All that Spanish politeness expresses, as a phrase, was here

reduced to actual practice. Everything was at the disposal of the

stranger. Not alone was he at liberty to ride, drive, fish, shoot, hunt,

boat, or course at will, but all his hours were at his own disposal,

and his liberty unfettered, even as to whether he dined in his own

apartment, or joined the general company. Nothing that the most

courteous attention could provide was omitted, at the same time that the

most ample freedom was secured to all. Here, too, was found a tone of

cultivation that would have graced the most polished society of any

European capital. Foreign languages were well understood and spoken;

music practised in its higher walks; drawing cultivated with a skill

rarely seen out of the hands of professed masters; subjects of politics

and general literature were discussed with a knowledge and a liberality

that bespoke the highest degree of enlightenment; while to all these

gifts the general warmth of native character lent an indescribable charm

of kindliness and cordiality that left none a stranger who spent even

twelve hours beneath their roof.

The Prince was in ecstasies with everything and every one, and he

himself no less a favorite with all. Every fall he got in hunting made

him more popular; every misadventure that occurred to him, in trying to

conform to native tastes, gave a new grace and charm to his character.

The ladies pronounced him "a love," and the men, in less polished, but

not less hearty, encomium, called him "a devilish good fellow for a

Frenchman."

The habits I have already alluded to, of each guest living exactly how

he pleased, gave a continual novelty to the company; sometimes two or

three new faces would appear at the dinner-table or in the drawing-room,

and conjecture was ever at work whether the last arrivals had been yet

seen, and who were they who presented themselves at table?

"You will meet two new guests to-day, Count," said the host one day,

as we entered the drawing-room before dinner: "a Spanish Bishop and his

niece,--a very charming person, and a widow of nineteen! They came over

to Ireland about some disputed question of property,--being originally

Irish by family,--and are now, I regret to say, about to return to Spain

in a few days. Hitherto a severe cold has confined the Bishop to his

chamber; and his niece, not being, I fancy, a proficient in any but her

native language, had not courage to face a miscellaneous party. They

will both, however, favor us to-day; and as you are the only one here

who can command the 'true Castilian tongue,' you will take the Countess

in to dinner."

I bowed my acknowledgments, not sorry to have the occasion of displaying

my Spanish and playing the agreeable to my fair countrywoman.

The drawing-room each day before dinner had no other light than that

afforded by a great fire of bog deal, which, although diffusing a rich

and ruddy glow over all who sat within the circle around it, left the

remainder of the apartment in comparative darkness; and few, except

those very intimate, were able to recognize each other in the obscurity.

Whether this was a whim of the host, or a pardonable artifice to make

the splendor of the well-lighted dinner-table more effective, on the

principle of orators, who begin at a whisper to create silence, I know

not, but we used to jest over the broken shins and upset spider tables

that each day announced the entrance of some guest less familiarized to

the geography of the apartment.

On this particular occasion the party was unusually large; possibly a

certain curiosity to see the new guests had added to the number, while

some of the neighboring families were also present. Various were the new

names announced; and at last came the Bishop, with the lady of the house

upon his arm, the young widow following with one of the daughters of the

house. I could only distinguish a very white head, with a small

black skull-cap, a stooping figure, and a great gold cross, which, I

concluded, represented the holy man; something in black, with a very

long veil descending from the back of her head, being as evidently the

niece.

A few formal introductions were gone through in clever pantomime, dinner

was announced, and the company paired off in all stateliness, while

the host, seizing my arm, led me across the room, and in a few words

presented me to the fair widow, who courtesied, and accepted my arm, and

away we marched in that solemn procession by which people endeavor to

thaw the ice of first acquaintance.

"Your first visit to Ireland, I believe, Señhora?" said I, in Spanish,

wishing to say something as we walked along.

"Yes, Señhor, and yours also, I understand?" replied she.

"Not exactly," muttered I, taken too suddenly to recover myself; "when

I was a boy, a mere child--" I here by accident employed a Mexican

word almost synonymous with the French "gamin." She started, and said

eagerly, "How! you have been in Mexico?"

"Yes, Señhora, I have passed some years in that country."

"I am a Mexican," cried she, delightedly. "Tell me, where have you

traveiled, and whom did you know there?"

"I have travelled a good deal, but scarcely knew any one," replied I.

"At Guajuaqualla--"

"Oh, were you there? My own neighborhood,--my home," exclaimed she,

fervidly.

"Then probably you know Don Estaban Olares," said I.

"My own father!"

I turned round; our eyes met; it was just at the very entrance of the

dinner-room, where a blaze of light was shed on everything, and there

upon my arm--her hand trembling, her cheek colorless, and her eyes

swimming in tears--was Donna Maria! Neither of us spoke, neither of us

could speak!--and while her eyes wandered from my face to the several

decorations I wore upon my breast, and I watched with agonizing

intensity the look of terror she threw down the table towards the place

where her uncle was seated, I saw plainly that some painful mystery was

struggling within her mind.

"Do not let my uncle recognize you," said she, in a low whisper; "he is

not likely to do so, for both his sight and hearing are much impaired."

"But why should I not claim him as an old acquaintance, if not a friend,

Señhora, if he be the same Fra Miguel?"

"Hush! be cautious," cried she; "I will tell you all

tomorrow,--to-night, if there be a fitting opportunity. Let us talk of

something else, or we shall be remarked."

I tried my best to obey her, but I fear my attempt was a poor one; I was

able, however, to listen to her with a certain amount of composure, and,

while doing so, to remark how much she had improved in grace and beauty

since we met. Years had developed the charms which girlhood then but

shadowed forth, and in the full and liquid softness of her dark and

long-lashed eyes, and the playful delicacy of her mouth, I saw how a

consciousness of fascination had served to lend new powers of pleasing.

She spoke to me of her widowhood without any affectation of feeling

grieved or sorry. So long as Don Geloso had lived, her existence had

been like that of a nun in a cloister; he was too jealous to suffer her

to go into the world, and, save at the Court Chapel each morning and

evening, she never saw anything of that brilliant society in which her

equals were moving. When her uncle was created Bishop of Seville, she

removed to that city to visit him, and had never seen her husband after.

Such, in few words, was the story of a life, whose monotony would have

broken the spirit of any nature less buoyant and elastic than her own.

Don Estaban was dead; and of him she spoke with deep and affectionate

feeling; betraying besides that her own lot was rendered almost a

friendless one by the bereavement.

That same evening, as we walked through the rooms, examining pictures

and ancient armor, of which our host was somewhat vain, I learned the

secret to which the Senhora had alluded at table, and divesting which

of all the embarrassment the revelation occasioned herself, was briefly

this: The Fra, who had never, for some reasons of his own, either liked

or trusted me, happened to discover some circumstances of my earlier

adventures in Texas, and even traced me in my rambles to the night of my

duel with the Ranchero. Hence he drew the somewhat rash and ungenerous

conclusion that my character was not so unimpeachable as I affected, and

that my veracity was actually open to question! An active correspondence

had taken place between Don Geloso and himself about me, in which the

former, after great researches, pronounced that no noble family of my

name had existed in Old Spain, and that, in plain fact, I was nothing

better than an impostor! In this terrible delusion the old gentleman

died; but so fearful was he of the bare possibility of injuring one in

whose veins flowed the pure blood of Castile that on his death-bed he

besought the Bishop to ascertain the fact to a certainty, and not

to desist in the investigation till he had traced me to my birth,

parentage, and country. Upon this condition he had bequeathed all his

fortune to the Church, and not alone all his own wealth, but all Donna

Maria's also.

The Bishop's visit to Ireland, therefore, had no other object than to

look for my baptismal certificate,--an investigation, I need scarcely

say, somewhat difficult and intricate!

Of course, in this confession, the fair Contessa never hesitated to

regard me as an injured and calumniated individual; but so assured was

she of the Bishop's desire to endow the Church with her wealth that

he would have less brooked to discover me a noble of title and rank

indisputable, than to find me a poor and ignoble adventurer. "Were he

but to recognize you," said she, "I should be condemned to a nunnery for

life!" and this terror, however little startling to _my_ ears, had too

much of significance to _her_ mind to be undervalued.

Of course my present position, the companionship of me Prince, the

foreign orders I wore, were more than sufficient to accredit me to her

as anything I pleased to represent myself; but somehow I felt little

inclination for that vein of fiction in which so often and so largely

I had indulged! For the first time in my life I regarded this flow of

invention as a treachery! and, when pressed by her to relate the full

story of my life, I limited myself to that period which, beginning with

my African campaign, brought me down to the moment of telling I was in

love. Such is the simple solution of the mystery; nor can I cite a more

convincing evidence of the ennobling nature of the passion than that it

made me, such as I was, tenacious of the truth.

Every succeeding day brought me into closer intimacy with the Señhora,

and taught me more and more to value her for other graces than those

of personal beauty. The seclusion in which she had passed her last few

years had led her to cultivate her mind by a course of study such as few

Spanish women ever think of, and which gave an almost serious character

to a nature of more than childlike buoyancy. We talked of her own joyous

land, to which she seemed longing to return, and of our first meeting

beside the "Rio Colloredo," and then of our next meeting on her own

marriage-day; and she wondered where, if ever, we should see each other

again! The opportunity was not to be lost. I pressed her hand to my

lips, and asked her never to leave me! I told her that, for me, country

had no ties,--that I had neither home nor kindred. I would at that

moment have confessed everything, even to my humble birth! I pledged

myself to live with her amidst the sierras of the Far West, or, if she

liked better, in some city of the Old World. I told her that I was rich,

and that I needed not that wealth of which her uncle's covetousness

would rob her. In fact, I said a great deal that was true; and when I

added anything that was not so, it was simply as painters introduce a

figure with a "bit of red," to heighten the landscape. I will not weary

my _fair_ reader with all the little doubts, and hesitations, and fears,

so natural for her to experience and express; nor will I tire my male

companion by saying how I combated each in turn. Love, like a lawsuit,

has but one ritual. First comes the declaration,--usually a pretty

unintelligible piece of business, in either case; then come the

"affidavits," the sworn depositions; then follow the cross-examinations;

after which, the charge and the verdict. In my case it was a favorable

one, and I was almost out of my senses with delight.

The Bishop, with whom my acquaintanceship had never betrayed my secret,

was to leave Ireland in a few days, and the Prince, to whom I told

everything, with the kindness of a true friend promised that he would

take the very same day for his own departure. The remainder we were

to leave to fortune. Love-making left me little time for any other

thoughts; but still as, for appearance' sake, I was obliged to pass some

hours of every day apart from Donna Maria, I took the occasion of one of

these forced absences to visit a scene which had never quitted my mind

through all the changeful fortunes of my life,--the little spot where I

was born. Rising one morning at break of day, I set out for Horseleap,

to see once more, and for the last time, the humble home of my

childhood. The distance was about sixteen miles; but as I rode slowly,

my mind full of old memories and reflections, I did not reach the place

till nigh noon. Alas! I should never have known the spot! There had been

a season of famine and pestilence, and now the little village was almost

tenantless. Many of the cabins were unroofed; in some, the blackened

rafters bore tokens of fire. The one shop that used to supply the humble

luxuries of the poor was closed, and I passed on with a heavy heart

towards the cross-roads where "Con's Acre" lay.

I had not gone far when my eye, straining to catch it, detected the roof

of the cabin rising above the little thorn hedge that flanked the

road. Ay, there was the old stone-quarry I used to play in, as a child,

fancying that its granite sides were mountain precipices, and its little

pools were lakes. There was the gate on which for hours long I have sat,

gazing at the bleak expanse of moorland, and wondering if all the wide

world beyond had nothing fairer or more beautiful than this.

"Who lives in that cabin yonder?" asked I, of a peasant on the road.

The man replied that it was "the minister;" adding his name, which,

however, I could not catch. Long as I had been away from Ireland,

I could not forget that this was the especial title given to the

Protestant clergyman of the parish, and I rode up to the door wondering

how it chanced that he was reduced to a dwelling of such humble

pretensions. An old woman came out as I drew up, and told me that the

curate was from home, but would be back in less than an hour; requesting

me to "put in my beast," and sit down in the parlor till he came.

I accepted the invitation, followed her into the cabin, which, although

in a condition of neatness very different from what I remembered it

of old, brought back all my boyish days in an instant. There was the

fireside, where, with naked feet roasting before the blazing turf, I had

sat and slept full many an hour, dreaming of adventures which were as

nothing to those my real life had met with. There the corner where I

used to sit throughout the night, copying those law papers my father

would bring back with him from Kilbeggan. There stood the little bed

where often I have sobbed myself to sleep, when, wearied and worn out,

I was punished for some trifling omission, some slight and accidental

mistake. I sat down, and covered my face with my hands, for a sense of

my utter loneliness in the world came suddenly over me; I felt as if

this poor hovel was my only real home, and that all my success in life

was a mere passing dream.

Meanwhile the old woman, with true native volubility, was explaining how

the Bishop--"bad scran to him!--would n't let his riv'rence have pace

and ease till he kem and lived in the parish, though there was n't a

spot fit for a gentleman in the whole length and breadth of it! and

signs on it," added she, "we had to put up with this little place here,

they call Con's Acre, and it was all a ruin when we got it."

"And who owned this cabin before?" asked I.

"A villain they call Con Cregan, your honor,--the biggest thief ye

ever heard of; he was paid for informin' agin the people, and whin the

Government had done wid him, they transported him too!"

"Had he any children, this same Con?"

"He had a brat of a boy that was drowned at 'say,' they tell me; but I'd

never believe it was that way that Con Cregan's son was to die!"

I need scarcely remark that I saw no inducement for prolonging this

conversation, wherein all the facts quoted were already familiar,

and all the speculations the reverse of flattery; and I was far more

agreeably occupied in discussing the eggs and milk the old lady had

placed before me, when the door opened, and the curate entered. A

deep cavernous cough and a stooped figure announcing the signs of some

serious chest disease, were all I had time to observe; when, with the

politeness of a gentleman, he advanced towards me. The first sound of

his voice was enough, and I cried out, "Lyndsay! my oldest and best

friend,--don't you know me?"

"I am ashamed to say that I do not," said he, faltering, while he still

held my hand, and gazed into my face.

"Not yet?" asked I again, smiling at the embarrassment of his

countenance.

"Not even yet," said he. "Tell me, I beseech you, where did we meet?"

"Come here," said I, leading him to the door, and pointing to the

wide-stretching moor that lay before us; "it was there,--yonder, where

you see that heavy cloud-shadow stealing along,--yonder we first met. Do

you know me now?"

He started; his pale cheek grew paler, and he fell upon my neck in a

burst of tears. Who shall ever know the source, or what the meaning?

They were not of joy, still less of sorrow,--they were the outbreak of a

hundred emotions. Old memories of happy days, never to come back; boyish

triumphs, successes, failures; moments of ecstasy--of bitter anguish;

his own bleak, joyless existence, perhaps, contrasting with mine; and

then at last the fell consciousness of the malady in which he was but

lingering out life.

"And here are you, and here!" cried he, in a voice which his faltering

accents made scarce intelligible; "who should say that we were to meet

thus?" Then, as if his words had conveyed a meaning of which he was

ashamed, he blushed deeply, and said, "And oh, my friend! how truly you

told me that life had its path for each, if we but knew how to choose

it."

I must not say how the hours were passed, nor how it was nightfall ere

either of us guessed it. Lyndsay insisted upon hearing every adventure

that had befallen me, questioning me eagerly as I went, how each new

feature of prosperity had "worked with me," and whether gold had yet

hardened my heart, and taught me indifference to the poor.

I told him of my love, and with such rapturous delight that he even

offered to aid me in my object, by marrying me to Donna Maria,--a piece

of generous zeal, I am certain, that originated less in friendship

than in the prospect of a proselyte,--the niece of a bishop, too! Poor

fellow, he might make many converts, if he were thus easily satisfied.

The next day I drove Donna Maria out for an airing, and, while occupying

her mind with various matters, contrived to prolong our excursion to

Horseleap. "What a dreary spot you have chosen for our drive!" said she,

looking around her.

"Do you see yonder little hut," said I, "where the smoke is rising?"

"Yes, that poor cabin yonder! You have not come to show me _that?_" said

she, laughing.

"Even so, Maria," said I; "to show you that poor and humble hut, and to

tell you that it was there I was born,--a peasant's son; that from that

same lowly roof I wandered out upon the world friendless and hungry;

that partly by energy, partly by a resolution to succeed, partly by the

daring determination that would not admit a failure, I have become what

I am,--titled, honored, wealthy, but still the son of a poor man. I

could not have gone on deceiving you, even though this confession should

separate us forever." I could not speak more, nor needed I. Her hand had

already clasped mine as she murmured: "Yours more than ever."

"Now is the moment, then, to become so," said I, as I lifted her from

the carriage and led her within the cabin.

The company were already waiting dinner ere we returned to the Castle.

"I have to make our excuses," said I to the hostess; "but we prolonged

our drive to a considerable distance."

"Ah, we feared you might have taken the road by the lake, where there is

no turning back," said she.

"Exactly, madam; that is what we did precisely, for we are married!"

Need I dwell upon the surprise and astonishment of this announcement?

The Bishop--fortunately it was in Spanish--uttered something very like

an oath. The bride blushed--some of the ladies looked shocked--the men

shook hands with me, and the Prince, saluting Donna Maria with a most

hearty embrace, begged to say "that the lady would be very welcomely

received in Paris, since it was the only drawback to my appointment as

an ambassador--that I was unmarried."

Here I have done,--not that my Confessions are exhausted, but that I

fear my reader's patience may be; I may, however, add that this was not

the only "Spanish marriage" in which I had a share,--that my career in

greatness was not less eventful than my life in obscurity, and that I

draw up at this stage, leaving it for the traveller to say if he should

ever care hereafter to journey further with me.

THE END.

End of Project Gutenberg's Confessions Of Con Cregan, by Charles James

Lever