Alfred de Rosann — page 187: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

~ 178 ALFRED DE ROSANN. the numerous years he had devoted to dissipation, to ~ folly, and to crime. He was subsequently interred in the cemetery of Pére la Chaise; anda simple cross of wood marks the resting place of one of the hgroes of July, 1830. Peace be to his soul ! Mr. Clayton hurried to the drawing-room, where Eloise was seated in silent horror at the dreadful work of slaughter that was being performed outside ; and he embraced his niece with a ery of joy. He forgot the terrors of the revolution—the vicinity of carnage —the deadly deeds that were done in the streets: all he thought of—all he cared for at the moment, was that De Rosann wasinnocent. Some minutes elapsed ere loise could prevail upon her uncle to moderate his sudden and apparently misplaced felicity ; but when he had so far composed himself as to relate the - brief confession of the penitent Belle-Rose, the mind of Eloise experienced a relief, that brought tears to her eyes. She wept through excess of feeling—and those feelings were of happiness. With what delight did she *now contemplate -her generous defence of her lover’s conduct; and how heart-broken would she have been, had she ever given credit to the calumniating tales which had prejudiced her mind against him. Her confidence was not bestowed on one whose treacheries had rendered him unworthy of her regard; and she felt proud of pos- sessing his love, and of having undertaken his cause with a perseverance that had not failed to offend Mr. Clayton, and that had drawn upon her the reproaches of her mother. Time had proved the truth of her assertion—time had justified her firmness in advocat- ing the part of her lover. This conviction of his permanent fidelity was an ample reward for all that she had been obliged to endure; and her countenance was radiant with joy as she returned her uncle’s caresses. ’ One fear, however, still harassed her, and soon re- called the melancholy expression of alarm and anxiety to her cheek. She was afraid that Alfred might ex- pose himself to danger, or might even be rash enough Gomichbooks,com