Alfred; or, The Adventures of a French Gentleman — page 223: what you’re looking at

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190 ALFRED; OR ADVENTURES Rosann to visit him, if it be only for one minute, to smooth the pillow of a death-bed, and pardon the injuries he has received.” The address of the house whither De Rosann was thus invited, appeared at the bottom of this gloomy epistle; and our hero did not hesitate two minutes how to act. He hastily left the hotel, and hurried to the mansion where his presence appeared so neces- sary. The moment he mentioned his name, a servant in a hand-~ some livery showed him to an apartment magnificently furnished, and desired him to have the kindness to wait for five minutes, in order that the sick man might be prepared to receive his visitor. Our hero obeyed; and although a secret presentiment told him who had sent for him, he was still anxious to be relieved of suspense. Presently the domestic returned, and requested De Rosann to follow him. They ascended a wide stair-case, and passed up a long gallery that led to the invalid’s chamber. Alfred entered; and the servant closed the door upon him. «Ts that you, De Rosann?” said a feeble voice, which our hero, as he had expected, recognised to be La Motte’s; ‘‘and have you obeyed my summons, and condescended to visit the repentant sinner’s death-bed? Oh! how thankful—how deeply grateful iam 1? ‘¢La Motte,” returned Alfred, in a solemn tone, ‘‘ do not imagine that I have come to reproach—I am here to pardon you!” ‘‘ Is it possible, De Rosann, that you can forget the deep in- juries I have done you?—your reputation tarnished—your esta- blishment ruined—your fortune dissipated—yourself accused and condemned as a forger—”’ ‘¢ Ah! how did you become aware of that ?” interrupted Alfred, suddenly. ‘¢ Four or five days ago, I met an individual whom I had once known in Paris—a person of the name of Belle-Rose—and he entrusted me with that which he called a great secret: he narrated to me all the ignominy you had suffered on my account. But he did not reveal the sad tidings till I had sworn that you and I were not friends, that the fact should never escape my lips in England, and that there was no chance of our ever conversing together. ‘¢ He did right,” cried De Rosann. ‘¢ A sudden malady has seized upon me,” said La Motte, ‘‘and will soon extinguish the vital spark with its vengeful breath. | feel that a just God is punishing me for my crimes. Alas! perhaps the agonies I now endure are only a foretaste of those I am destined to undergo in the regions where the worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched !’’ ‘¢ Console vourself, La Motte,” whispered Alfred, in a kind tone ; for he forgot at that awful moment all he had undergone through the treachery of the dying man. ‘« Say that you pardon me!” implored La Motte, large drops of perspiration falling from his forehead, and mingling with the repentant tears which he shed. ‘* Say that you pardon me—and Y may yet die in peace and comparative contentment.” CONNIE OOOKS (E)