Madam,
It is with the greatest grief I find myself obliged to fulfil my duty,
by giving you an intelligence that will cause you so much affliction.
Permit me first to recommend the exertion of that pious resignation
which every one has so often admired in you, and which alone can
support us among the evils of this miserable life.
M. your nephew—Good God! must I afflict so respectable a lady! M. your
nephew, had the misfortune to fall this morning in a duel he fought
with M. the Chevalier Danceny. I am entirely unacquainted with the
cause of the quarrel: but it appears, by the note which I found in M.
the Viscount’s pocket, and which I have the honour to send you; it
appears, I say, he was not the aggressor: and yet heaven permitted him
to fall!
I was at M. the Viscount’s, waiting for him, at the very time he was
brought back to his hotel. You cannot conceive the shock I received,
seeing M. your nephew brought in by two of his servants, bathed in
blood. He had two thrusts of a sword in his body, and was very weak.
M. Danceny was also there, and even wept. Ah! certainly he ought to
weep—it is a pretty time to cry when one has been the cause of an
irreparable misfortune!
For my part, I could not contain myself; and notwithstanding my
insignificancy, I could not help telling him my thoughts. But it was
then M. the Viscount showed himself truly great: he commanded me to
hold my tongue; and he even took his murderer by the hand, called him
his friend, embraced him before us three, and said to us, “I command
you to have for this gentleman all the respect that is due to a brave
and gallant man.” Moreover, he ordered to be given him, in my presence,
some very voluminous papers, that I know nothing of, but which I know
he set a value on. Then he desired they should be left together for
a little while; however, I sent immediately for assistance, as well
spiritual as temporal: but, alas! the evil was without remedy. In less
than half an hour after, M. the Viscount was insensible. He could only
receive the extreme unction; and the ceremony was scarcely over, before
he breathed his last.
Great God! when I received in my arms at his birth this precious prop
of so illustrious a family, could I ever have thought he would expire
in my arms, and that I should deplore his death! A death so sudden,
and so unfortunate—my tears flow in spite of me. I ask pardon, Madam,
for taking the liberty of mingling my sorrows with yours: but in every
station, tenderness and sensibility will operate; and I should be very
ungrateful if I did not lament, during my life, a nobleman who was so
kind, and placed such a confidence in me.
To-morrow, when the body will be removed, I will order every thing
to be sealed, and you may depend on my care entirely in every thing.
I need not inform you, Madam, this unhappy event puts an end to the
entail, and leaves you entirely at liberty. If I can be of any service,
I beg, Madam, you will give me your orders, which will be executed with
the greatest zeal and utmost punctuality.