Joseph Wilmot, or, The Memoirs of a Man-Servant — page 16: what you’re looking at

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

JOSEPH WILMOT; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT. 3 “T believe you, strange indeed though your conduct naturally appears,” rejoined the Marquis ; “and I will keep the appointment which you have just given. I of course presume that the matter is entirely secret ?” Entirely so, Monsieur le Marquis:”—and not choosing to tarry with the ehance of being ques- tioned, I bowed and hastened along to the mansion. I was exceedingly glad at having thus far ac- complished my purpose. I saw that the young nobleman’s curiosity was much piqued—that at the same time he had the fullest confidence in the assurance I had given him—and that he would not therefore fail to keep the appointment, nor refuse to accompany me whithersoever I might clioose to lead him. At about half-past eight in the evening, I sauntered out of the mansion, and proceeded in the direction of the place of appointment. There I walked to and fro, wondering what would be the result of Mademoisellé Eugenie’s stratagem to eonvert her youthful lover to her own political principles—and thus, as she had expressed it, render him all the more worthy of the devoted affection she experienced for him. I could not help thinking the experiment a very hazardous one: for he was a youth of the most delicate sensi- bilities—and it struck me as being quite possible that he would regard her proceedings in respect to the Secret Society as unfeminine—unmaidenly —and in every sense unbecoming her sex, her position, and her aspiration to be some day led by him to the altar. Besides, I reflected that the eloquence ot the speakers might fail to move him; and that so far from the impassioned fervour of republican orators making upon his mind the im- pression which the ardent. girl so fondly anti- cipated; it might shock his own political pre- judices, and lead to an irreparable breach between himself and the young lady. I was even sorry that I had not made all these representations to Eugenie when we met in the Champs Elysées: but if was now too late—the affair was progressing as she herself had sketched it out—and all I could do was to perform my own part, sincerely wishing her success. Punctual to the appointed time, I was joined by the young Marquis,—and now I felt it neces- sary to say a few words which might prepare him somewhat for the scene to which he was about to be introduced. | “T hope and trust, Monsieur le Marquis,’ I began, “ that you will leave yourself entirely to my guidance: for though the proceeding I am about to adopt, may at first appear to be utterly unconnected with the result that is aimed at, I ean assure you that it is an indispensable prélimi- nary. I now propose to conduct you to a’place where you will find other persons, and where you may hear strange language: but I beseech you to listen attentively—to betray no surprise by your looks, whatever you may feel in your heart—to offer no interruption—but to bear yourself alto- gether as if it were a scene which you were before- hand fully prepared to encounter.” “ What strange words are these which you are addressing to me?” inquired the young Marquis, as if in doubt whether it were prudent for him to proceed another step im an affair so densely shrouded in mystery. ** Do you think, Monsieur le Marquis,” I said, half coldiy, half indignantly, “that I am capable of any treachery? If you mistrust me, I beg that you will at once stop short in the matter : but I can assure you that I am doing all this en- tirely in your interest, and to serve no personal motive of my own.” * Forgive me if I hesitated for an instant!” said Theobald, with the fervour of a generous heart. ‘I did not suspect you—I merely thought it strange that you should observe so much mys- stery. But lead the way—and I will follow.” “ And you must follow, Monsieur le Marquis,” I said, impressively; ‘as if blindfold you were con- ducted by my hand: and you must not ask mea single question as to anything you may hear or see: but above all, look not astonished—betray no outward wonderment—or we may fail in achieving our object.” “ Proceed,” said Theobald. “I will be guided by you in all things.” I now led the way towards the place of meeting, in respect to the precise whereabouts of which I had in the afternoon taken the special precaution to refresh my memory; and the small narrow doorway was soon reached. It stood half open: I took the hand of the Marquis; and as I pro- nounced the word “ Liberté,’ I led him into the narrow alley, which was pitch dark. “Good! Pass on,’ said a voice behind the door: and I felt the hand of the Marquis quiver for a moment in my own. But I said nothing; though I squeezed that hand;—thereby significantly impressing upon him the necessity of attending to the instructions I had previously given. The bell tinkled,—having been evidently thus agitated by the individual behind the outer door. Then the inner door opened: a light gleamed forth: this time however it was not the charming Eugenie who was acting as portress —but a man in a mechanic’s dress performed that duty. To him the watchword was repeated from my lips: we traversed the ante-chamber—the man opened the door at the extremity—and I conducted the young Marquis into that spacious apartment which I now entered for the second time. On this occasion it was not dimly but well lighted. There were about fifty persons assem- bled ; and the same description which was given of the meeting in a previous chapter, as being the representatives, so to speak, of all grades of society, will suit them now. Theobald stopped suddenly short: it was however only for an instant,—tho quick look which I flung upon him at once re- ealling my urgent instructions to his mind. Me- thought he immediately comprehended the nature of the scene amidst which he was thus introduced ; and as I led him to a seat, he whispered to me, “I fear, Joseph, that you have brought me to a place which I ought not to have entered But it is too late to retreat!” “Hush, Monsieur le Marquis!’—and again I bent upon him a deprecating regard. “There must be some extraordinary mistake,” he whispered in the lowest tone that could possi- bly be audible: “there can be no earthly con- nexion between this scene and that which I have upon my mind!” ‘Have patience,” I rejoined, likewise speaking — el cS (E()