"Ne mal cio che v'annoja,
Quello e vero gioire
Che nasce da virtude dopo il soffrire."
Basile had not seen without emotion the various instances of goodness
which Victoire showed during the illness of Sister Frances. Her conduct
towards M. Tracassier increased his esteem and attachment; but he forbore
to declare his affection, because he could not, consistently with
prudence, or with gratitude to his father, think of marrying, now that he
was not able to maintain a wife and family. The honest earnings of many
years of service had been wrested from the old steward at the time the
Chateau de Fleury was seized, and he now depended on the industry of his
son for the daily support of his age. His dependence was just, and not
likely to be disappointed; for he had given his son an education suitable
to his condition in life. Basile was an exact arithmetician, could write
an excellent hand, and was a ready draughtsman and surveyor. To bring
these useful talents into action, and to find employment for them with
men by whom they would be honestly rewarded, was the only difficulty--a
difficulty which Victoire's brother Maurice soon removed. His reputation
as a smith had introduced him, among his many customers, to a gentleman
of worth and scientific knowledge, who was at this time employed to make
models and plans of all the fortified places in Europe; he was in want of
a good clerk and draughtsman, of whose integrity he could be secure.
Maurice mentioned his friend Basile; and upon inquiry into his character,
and upon trial of his abilities, he was found suited to the place, and
was accepted. By his well-earned salary he supported himself and his
father; and began, with the sanguine hopes of a young man, to flatter
himself that he should soon be rich enough to marry, and that then he
might declare his attachment to Victoire. Notwithstanding all his
boasted prudence, he had betrayed sufficient symptoms of his passion to
have rendered a declaration unnecessary to any clear-sighted observer:
but Victoire was not thinking of conquests; she was wholly occupied with
a scheme of earning a certain sum of money for her benefactress, who was
now, as she feared, in want. All Madame de Fleury's former pupils
contributed their share to the common stock; and the mantua-maker, the
confectioner, the servants of different sorts, who had been educated at
her school, had laid by, during the years of her banishment, an annual
portion of their wages and savings: with the sum which Victoire now added
to the fund, it amounted to ten thousand livres. The person who
undertook to carry this money to Madame de Fleury, was Francois, her
former footman, who had procured a pass to go to England as a
hairdresser. The night before he set out was a happy night for Victoire,
as all her companions met, by Madame Feuillot's invitation, at her house;
and after tea they had the pleasure of packing up the little box, in
which each, besides the money, sent some token their gratitude, and some
proof of their ingenuity. They would with all their hearts have sent
twice as many _souvenirs_ as Francois could carry.
"D'abord c'est impossible!" cried he, when he saw the box that was
prepared for him to carry to England: but his good nature was unable to
resist the entreaties of each to have her offering carried, "which would
take up no room."
He departed--arrived safe in England--found out Madame de Fleury, who was
in real distress, in obscure lodgings at Richmond. He delivered the
money, and all the presents of which he had taken charge: but the person
to whom she entrusted a letter, in answer to Victoire, was not so
punctual, or was more unlucky: for the letter never reached her, and she
and her companions were long uncertain whether their little treasure had
been received. They still continued, however, with indefatigable
gratitude, to lay by a portion of their earnings for their benefactress;
and the pleasure they had in this perseverance made them more than amends
for the loss of some little amusements, and for privations to which they
submitted in consequence of their resolution.
In the meantime, Basile, going on steadily with his employments, advanced
every day in the favour of his master, and his salary was increased in
proportion to his abilities and industry; so that he thought he could
now, without any imprudence, marry. He consulted his father, who
approved of his choice; he consulted Maurice as to the probability of his
being accepted by Victoire; and encouraged by both his father and his
friend, he was upon the eve of addressing himself to Victoire, when he
was prevented by a new and unforeseen misfortune. His father was taken
up, by an emissary of Tracassier's, and brought before one of their
revolutionary committees, where he was accused of various acts of
_incivisme_. Among other things equally criminal, it was proved that one
Sunday, when he went to see Le Petit Trianon, then a public-house, he
exclaimed, "C'est ici que le canaille danse, et que les honnetes gens
pleurent!"
Basile was present at this mock examination of his father--he saw him on
the point of being dragged to prison--when a hint was given that he might
save his father by enlisting immediately, and going with the army out of
France. Victoire was full in Basile's recollection; but there was no
other means of saving his father. He enlisted, and in twenty-four hours
left Paris.
What appear to be the most unfortunate circumstances of life often prove
ultimately the most advantageous--indeed, those who have knowledge,
activity, and integrity, can convert the apparent blanks in the lottery
of fortune into prizes. Basile was recommended to his commanding officer
by the gentleman who had lately employed him as a clerk; his skill in
drawing plans, and in taking rapid surveys of the country through which
they passed, was extremely useful to his general, and his integrity made
it safe to trust him as a secretary. His commanding officer, though a
brave man, was illiterate, and a secretary was to him a necessary of
life. Basile was not only useful, but agreeable; without any mean arts,
or servile adulation, he pleased by simply showing the desire to oblige
and the ability to serve.
"Diable!" exclaimed the general one day, as he looked at Basile's plan of
a town which the army was besieging. "How comes it that you are able to
do all these things? But you have a genius for this sort of work,
apparently."
"No, sir," said Basile, "these things were taught to me when I was a
child by a good friend."
"A good friend he was, indeed! he did more for you than if he had given
you a fortune; for, in these times, that might have been soon taken from
you; but now you have the means of making a fortune for yourself."
This observation of the general's, obvious as it may seem, is deserving
of the serious consideration of those who have children of their own to
educate, or who have the disposal of money for public charities. In
these times no sensible person will venture to pronounce that a change of
fortune and station may not await the highest and the lowest; whether we
rise or fall in the scale of society, personal qualities and knowledge
will be valuable. Those who fall cannot be destitute, and those who rise
cannot be ridiculous or contemptible, if they have been prepared for
their fortune by proper education. In shipwreck those who carry their
all in their minds are the most secure.
But to return to Basile. He had sense enough not to make his general
jealous of him by any unseasonable display of his talents, or any
officious intrusion of advice, even upon subjects which he best
understood.
The talents of the warrior and the secretary were in such different
lines, that there was no danger of competition; and the general, finding
in his secretary the soul of all the arts, good sense, gradually acquired
the habit of asking his opinion on every subject that came within his
department. It happened that the general received orders from the
Directory at Paris to take a certain town, let it cost what it would,
within a given time: in his perplexity he exclaimed before Basile against
the unreasonableness of these orders, and declared his belief that it was
impossible he should succeed, and that this was only a scheme of his
enemies to prepare his ruin. Basile had attended to the operations of
the engineer who acted under the general, and perfectly recollected the
model of the mines of this town, which he had seen when he was employed
as draughtsman by his Parisian friend. He remembered that there was
formerly an old mine that had been stopped up somewhere near the place
where the engineer was at work; he mentioned in private his suspicions to
the general, who gave orders in consequence. The old mine was
discovered, cleared out, and by these means the town was taken the day
before the time appointed. Basile did not arrogate to himself any of the
glory of this success; he kept his general's secret and his confidence.
Upon their return to Paris, after a fortunate campaign, the general was
more grateful than some others have been, perhaps because more room was
given by Basile's prudence for the exercise of this virtue.
"My friend," said he to Basile, "you have done me a great service by your
counsel, and a greater still by holding your tongue. Speak now, and tell
me freely if there is anything I can do for you. You see, as a
victorious general, I have the upper hand amongst these
fellows--Tracassier's scheme to ruin me missed--whatever I ask will at
this moment be granted; speak freely, therefore."
Basile asked what he knew Victoire most desired--that Monsieur and Madame
de Fleury should be struck from the list of emigrants, and that their
property now in the hands of the nation should be restored to them. The
general promised that this should be done. A warm contest ensued upon
the subject between him and Tracassier, but the general stood firm; and
Tracassier, enraged, forgot his usual cunning, and quarrelling
irrevocably with a party now more powerful than his own, he and his
adherents were driven from that station in which they had so long
tyrannised. From being the rulers of France, they in a few hours became
banished men, or, in the phrase of the times, _des deportes_.
We must not omit to mention the wretched end of Manon. The man with whom
she lived perished by the guillotine. From his splendid house she went
upon the stage, did not succeed, sank from one degree of profligacy to
another, and at last died in an hospital.
In the meantime, the order for the restoration of the Fleury property,
and for permission for the Fleury family to return to France, was made
out in due form, and Maurice begged to be the messenger of these good
tidings--he set out for England with the order.
Victoire immediately went down to the Chateau de Fleury, to get
everything in readiness for the reception of the family.
Exiles are expeditious in their return to their native country. Victoire
had but just time to complete her preparations, when Monsieur and Madame
de Fleury arrived at Calais. Victoire had assembled all her companions,
all Madame de Fleury's former pupils; and the hour when she was expected
home, they, with the peasants of the neighbourhood, were all in their
holiday clothes, and, according to the custom of the country, singing and
dancing. Without music and dancing there is no perfect joy in France.
Never was _fete du village_ or _fete du Seigneur_ more joyful than this.
The old steward opened the gate, the carriage drove in. Madame de Fleury
saw that home which she had little expected evermore to behold, but all
other thoughts were lost in the pleasure of meeting her beloved pupils.
"My children!" cried she, as they crowded round her the moment she got
out of her carriage--"my dear, _good_ children!"
It was all she could say. She leaned on Victoire's arm as she went into
the house, and by degrees recovering from the almost painful excess of
pleasure, began to enjoy what she yet only confusedly felt.
Several of her pupils were so much grown and altered in their external
appearance, that she could scarcely recollect them till they spoke, and
then their voices and the expression of their countenances brought their
childhood fully to her memory. Victoire, she thought, was changed the
least, and at this she rejoiced.
The feeling and intelligent reader will imagine all the pleasure that
Madame de Fleury enjoyed this day; nor was it merely the pleasure of a
day. She heard from all her friends, with prolonged satisfaction,
repeated accounts of the good conduct of these young people during her
absence. She learned with delight how her restoration to her country and
her fortune had been effected; and is it necessary to add, that Victoire
consented to marry Basile, and that she was suitably portioned, and, what
is better still, that she was perfectly happy? Monsieur de Fleury
rewarded the attachment and good conduct of Maurice by taking him into
his service, and making him his manager under the old steward at the
Chateau de Fleury.
On Victoire's wedding-day Madame de Fleury produced all the little
offerings of gratitude which she had received from her and her companions
during her exile. It was now her turn to confer favours, and she knew
how to confer them both with grace and judgment.
"No gratitude in human nature! No gratitude in the lower classes of the
people!" cried she; "how much those are mistaken who think so! I wish
they could know my history, and the history of these my children, and
they would acknowledge their error."