THE DUKE'S DOUBLE.
First it is necessary to revert to the history of the Scotts of Lone,
Dukes of Hereward.
He who married Salome Levison was the eighth of his princely line. Any
one turning to Burke's Peerage of the preceding year, might have read
this record of the late duke:
"Hereward, Duke of, (Archibald-Alexander-John Scott) Marquis of Arondelle
and Avondale in the Peerage of England, Earl of Lone and Baron Scott in
the Peerage of Scotland; born, 1st of Jan., 1800; succeeded his father as
seventh duke, 1st Feb., 1840; married, first, March 15th, 1843, Valerie,
only daughter of Constantine, Baron de la Motte; divorced, Nov, 1st,
1844; married, secondly, July 15th, 1845, Lady Katherine-Augusta, eldest
daughter of the Earl of Banff, and has a son--Archibald-Alexander-John,
Marquis of Arondelle, born 1st of May, 1846."
A whole domestic tragedy is comprised in one line of this record:
"Married, first, March 15th, 1843, Valerie, only daughter of Constantine,
Baron de la Motte; divorced, Nov. 1st, 1844."
Now as to this poor, unhappy first wife:
Some few years before this first fatal marriage, the Baron de la Motte,
one of the most illustrious French statesmen, was dispatched by his
sovereign as Envoy Extraordinary and Minister Plenipotentiary from the
Court of France to the Court of Russia.
The baron, with his suite, proceeding to St. Petersburg, accompanied by
the baroness, a handsome Italian woman, and by their only child, Valerie,
a beautiful brunette of only seventeen summers.
Valerie de la Motte was first introduced to the world of fashion at a
great court ball, given by the Czar, in honor of the French Ambassador,
in the Imperial Palace of Annitchkoff.
On this occasion the dark, brilliant beauty of Mademoiselle de la Motte,
inherited from her Italian mother, was the more admired from its rarity
and its perfect contrast to the radiant fairness of the Russian blondes.
Here Valerie de la Motte met, for the first time, Waldemar de Volaski,
the second son of the Polish Count de Volaski, and a captain of the Royal
Guards, stationed at the palace. He was but twenty years of age, yet a
model of fair, manly beauty. He was even then called "the handsomest man
in all the Russias."
There was a Romeo and Juliet case of love at first sight between the
young Russian officer and the youthful French heiress.
During the first season, the beauty's hand was sought by some among the
most princely of the nobles that surrounded the throne of the Czar; but,
to the disappointment of her ambitious parents, she refused them every
one.
Certainly the French father might have followed the custom of his class
and country, and coerced his young daughter into the acceptance of any
husband he might have chosen for her; but he did not feel disposed to
use harsh measures with his only and idolized child; he rather preferred
to exercise patience and forbearance toward her, until she should have
outlived what he called her childish caprices.
It was, however, no childish caprice that governed the conduct of Valerie
de la Motte, but the unfortunate and fatal passion, inspired by the
handsome young captain of the Royal Guards, whom she had waltzed with
about a half a dozen times at the court balls.
Waldemar de Volaski was indeed as beautiful as the youthful god, Apollo
Belvidere, and in his radiant blonde complexion a perfect contrast to the
dark, splendid style of the lovely brunette, Valerie de la Motte; but he
was only a younger son, with no hope or prospect of succession to his
father's title or estates.
He did not dare openly to seek the hand of Mademoiselle de la Motte, for
he knew that to do so would only be to have himself banished forever from
her presence, by her ambitious father; but, loving her with all the
passion of his heart, he sought secretly to win her love, and he
succeeded.
It would seem strange that the carefully shielded daughter of the French
minister should have been exposed to courtship by the young captain of
the Royal Guards; but love is fertile in devices, and full of expedients,
and "laughs," not only "at locksmiths," but at all other obstacles to its
success.
The willful young pair loved each other ardently from the first evening
of their meeting, and they could not endure to think of such a
possibility as their separation. They found many opportunities, even in
public, of carrying on their secret courtship. In the swimming turn of
the waltz, hands clasped hands with more impassioned earnestness than the
formula of the round dance required: in the casual meetings in the
fashionable promenades of the beautiful summer gardens in Aptekarskoi
Island--
"Eyes looked love to eyes that spake again.
And all went merry as a marriage bell,"
so long as they could see each other every day.
As the summer passed, the young captain, grown more confident, wrote
ardent love letters to his lady, which were surreptitiously slipped into
her hands at casual meetings, or conveyed to her by means of bribed
domestics; and these the willful beauty answered in the same spirit,
as opportunity was offered her by the same means. But--
"A change came o'er the spirit of their dream."
The French minister was recalled home by his sovereign, and only awaited
the arrival of his successor to take an official leave of the Czar.
About this time a letter from Volaski to Valerie was sent by the
captain's faithful valet, and put in the hands of the lady's confidential
maid, who secretly conveyed it to her mistress. This letter, which was
fiery enough to have set any ordinary post-bag in a blaze, declared,
among other matters, that the lady's answer would decide the writer's
fate, for life or for death.
Mademoiselle de la Motte sat down and wrote a reply which she sent by her
confidential maid, who placed it in the hands of the captain's faithful
valet, to be secretly carried to his master.
Whether the answer decided the fate of the lover for life or for death,
it certainly controlled his action in an important matter. Immediately on
its receipt he hastened to the Hotel de l'Etat Major, the headquarters of
the army department, and solicited a month's leave of absence to visit
his father's family.
As it was the very first occasion upon which the young officer had asked
such a favor, it was promptly granted him.
Of course no one suspected that the cause of the young captain's action
had been the announcement that the French minister had been recalled by
his government, and was about to return to Paris.
The next day Waldemar de Volaski left St. Petersburg, ostensibly to visit
his father's estates in Poland.
And the next week the French minister, having presented his successor to
the Czar, and received his own conge, left the court and the city, and
set out for France.
The ministerial party travelled by the new railway from St. Petersburg to
Warsaw, a distance of nearly seven hundred miles.
At the capital of Poland they designed to stop a few days to rest the
baroness, whose health was suffering.
One day while in that city the baroness, her daughter, and the lady's
maid, went out together, shopping for curiosities in the Marieville
Bazaar, a square in the midst of the city, surrounded by many gay
arcades.
The square was full of visitors, and every arcade was crowded with
customers.
The baroness became somewhat interested in her purchases, and from moment
to moment turned to consult her daughter, who seemed ever ready so assist
her choice.
At length, however, in speaking to Mademoiselle de la Motte, her mother
failed to receive an answer.
Turning to rebuke the inattention of her daughter, the baroness
discovered that Valerie was missing.
Thinking only that she had got mixed up with the crowd, yet feeling very
much annoyed thereat, Madam de la Motte called her maid and instituted a
search, only to find, with dismay, that Mademoiselle was nowhere in the
square.
Believing then that the young girl must have taken the extraordinary
and very reprehensible proceeding of returning to the hotel alone and
resolving to give her daughter a severe reprimand for her imprudence,
the baroness returned to their temporary home, only to learn that
Mademoiselle de la Motte had not been seen there by any one since she
had left the house in company with her mother, attended by her maid.
Fearing then that her daughter, in rashly attempting to return home
alone, had lost herself in the streets of Warsaw, the baroness sent
messengers in every direction to seek for her and guide her back.
Meanwhile the Baron de la Motte, who had been to inspect the fine gallery
of paintings preserved in the old villa of Stanislaus Augustus, returned
to his hotel, and was informed by the now half distracted baroness of the
disappearance of their daughter.
The Baron, struck with dismay, inquired into the circumstances of the
case, and was told of the shopping expedition to the Marieville Bazaar,
where Valerie was first missed.
"It was at her own earnest solicitation that I took her there, to pick up
some of the curiously carved jewelry and trinkets. First, she wished, in
consideration of my health, to go there attended only by her maid; but I
would not allow any such indiscretion. I took her there myself, and even
while I was talking with her before one of the arcades, she vanished like
a spirit! One moment she was there, the next moment she was gone! We
looked for her immediately, but found no trace of her."
The baron replied not one word to this explanation, but took his hat and
walked out to join the search for the missing girl, while the baroness
remained in her rooms, a prey to the most poignant anxiety.
It was near midnight when the baron returned, looking full ten years
older than he did when he went forth.
No trace of the missing girl had been found, and whether her
disappearance was a flight or an abduction no one could even conjecture.
The condition of the agonized mother became critical; she could not be
persuaded to lie down, or to cease from her restless walking to and fro
in her chamber.
At length, a physician was summoned, who administered a potent sedative,
which conquered her nervous excitement, and laid her in a blessed sleep
upon her bed.
The next morning the search, which had not been quite abandoned even
during the night, was renewed with great vigor, stimulated by the large
rewards offered by the afflicted father for the recovery of his lost
child; but still no trace of Valerie de la Motte could be found, no news
of her be heard.
And so, without any change a week passed away, and then, while the
baroness lay in extreme nervous prostration, hovering between life and
death, and the baron crept about her bed like a man bowed down by the
infirmities of age, and all hope seemed gone, a letter arrived from
Mademoiselle de la Motte to her parents.
It was written from San Vito, a small mountain hamlet in the northern
part of Italy. By this letter she informed them that she was safe and
happy as the wife of Captain Waldemar de Volaski, who had long possessed
her heart, and to whom she had just given her hand. She begged her
father and mother to pardon her for having sought her happiness in her
own way, and assured them, notwithstanding her seemingly unfilial
conduct, she still cherished the strongest sentiments of love and honor
toward them both, and ever remained their dutiful and affectionate
daughter--VALERIE DE LA MOTTE DE VOLASKI.
The mother, who under any other circumstances, would have been
overwhelmed with mortification and sorrow at this _mesalliance_ of
her daughter, was now so glad to know that Valerie was alive in health,
even though as the bride of a poor young captain of the Guards, that she
thanked Heaven earnestly, and rejoiced exceedingly.
But the baron who would as willingly have never heard of his lost
daughter, as that she had so degraded herself, left his wife's
bed-chamber abruptly, and went off to his smoking-room, where he could
vent his feelings by cursing and swearing to his heart's content.
The next day the Baron de la Motte, breathing maledictions, set out for
Italy, accompanied by the baroness, who had wonderfully rallied in health
and strength since she had received news of her missing daughter.
The proud baroness was, in one respect, like the poor Hebrew mother of
the Bible story. She preferred to give up her child to another claimant
rather than lose that beloved child by death.
The baron's party traveled day and night, without pause or rest, until
they crossed the northern frontier of Italy, and halted at the little
hamlet of San Vito, at the foot of the Apennines.
Here they found the fugitive pair living a sort of Arcadian life: and
here they learned the facts which they had not hitherto even suspected.
Captain Waldemar de Volaski and Mademoiselle Valerie de la Motte had
loved each other from the first moment of their meeting at the ball given
in honor of the French minister, at the Imperial Palace of Annitchkoff,
and had betrothed themselves to each other during the first month of
their acquaintance. They had kept their betrothal a secret, only because
they felt assured it would meet with the most violent opposition from the
young lady's haughty parents; but they had carried on a constant
epistolary correspondence through the instrumentality of the lover's
valet and the lady's maid; but they had not intended to take any decisive
step, until, at length, they were both startled by the recall home of
the French minister.
When the announcement of this event reached the ears of Waldemar de
Volaski, he was filled with despair at the prospect of parting from his
betrothed.
He instantly dashed off a hasty letter to Valerie de la Motte, earnestly
entreating her to save his life, and his reason, and secure their
happiness, by consenting to an immediate marriage.
Mademoiselle de la Motte, closing her ears to the voice of conscience and
discretion, and listening only to the pleadings of a reckless and fatal
passion, wrote a favorable answer.
They knew that their plan would be exceedingly difficult of execution;
but this did not deter them.
They made their arrangements with more tact than could have been expected
of so youthful a pair of lovers.
He obtained leave of absence and left St. Petersburg, as has been stated,
upon the pretext of visiting his father's estate in Poland; but really
with the intention of preceding the minister's party to Warsaw, where, he
had learned, they would break their journey and remain for a few days to
recruit the strength of the baroness.
There, disguised as a peasant, and concealed in the suburban cottage
of a faithful retainer of his family, Waldemar de Volaski waited for
the arrival of the baron's party.
Then, through the instrumentality of the lover's valet and the lady's
maid, a meeting was arranged between the imprudent young pair, at the
Marieville Bazaar.
There Mademoiselle de la Motte found her lover watching for her.
Taking advantage of a few minutes during which her mother was engaged in
the examination of some curious malachite ornaments, Valerie de la Motte
slipped into the thickest of the crowd, joined her lover, and escaped
with him to the suburban hut of the old retainer, where she changed her
clothes, and from whence, in the disguise of a page, and carrying her
female apparel in a small valise, she finally fled with him to Italy.
They stopped at the little mountain hamlet of San Vito, where she resumed
her proper dress, and where, by a lavish expenditure of money, and a
liberal disbursement of fair words, Waldemar de Volaski prevailed on
a priest to perform the marriage ceremony between himself and Valerie de
la Motte.
When this was done, the reckless pair took lodgings at a vine-dresser's
cottage in the neighborhood of the hamlet, to spend their honeymoon, and
wait for "coming events."
The coming events came. The parents arrived, and found the lovers living
carelessly and happily in their Arcadian home. Here the outraged and
infuriated father thundered into the ears of the newly-married pair
the terrible truth that their marriage was no marriage at all without
his consent, but was utterly null and void in the law.
At this astounding revelation, Valerie, overwhelmed with humiliation,
fainted and fell, and was tenderly cared for by her mother; but the
gallant captain very coolly replied that he knew the fact perfectly well,
and had always known it, although Mademoiselle de la Motte had not even
suspected it; and he ventured to represent to the haughty baron, that
their illegal marriage only required the sanction of his silent
recognition to render it perfectly legal, and that for his daughter's
own sake he was bound to give it such recognition.
This aroused the baron to a perfect frenzy of rage. He charged Volaski
with having traded in Mademoiselle de la Motte's affections and honor,
from selfish and mercenary motives alone, and swore that such deep,
calculating villainy should avail the villain nothing. He would not
ratify his daughter's marriage with such a caitiff, but would use his
parental power to tear her from her unlawful husband's arms, and immure
her in the living tomb of an Italian convent.
He finished by dashing his open hand with all his strength full into the
mouth of the bridegroom, inflicting a severe blow, and covering the
handsome face with blood.
Valerie de la Motte, in a fainting condition, was placed in the cart
of a vine-dresser, the only conveyance to be found, and carried to a
neighboring nunnery, where she lay ill for several weeks, tenderly nursed
by her sorrowful mother and by the compassionate nuns.
The Baron de la Motte remained in the village, awaiting a challenge from
Waldemar de Volaski; but when a week had passed away without such an
event, the furious old Frenchman, bent upon his enemy's destruction,
dispatched a defiance to Captain Volaski, couched in such insulting and
exasperating language as compelled the young officer, much against his
will, to accept it.
They met to fight their duel in a secluded glade of the forest, lying
between the hamlet and the foot of the mountains.
At the first fire, Volaski, who was resolved not to wound the father of
his beloved Valerie, discharged his pistol in the air, but instantly
fell, shot through the lungs by the Baron de la Motte!