Joseph Wilmot, or, The Memoirs of a Man-Servant — page 75: what you’re looking at

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

62 JOSEPH WILMOT; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT. mingled radiance and bashfulness of her beauty— her cheeks still suffused with the modest blush which the marked attention of Royalty had con- jured up,—at that moment, too, when lovely though she always was, she seemed lovelier than ever to my ravished gaze,—it was hard, I say, to restrain myself from rushing down to the doors whence she was about to issue, and snatch one pressure from her hand, receive one word from her lips, and drink in the delight of one glance from her azure eyes! But no—I dared not!—and when she dis- appeared from my view beneath the gallery, in company with her grandfather and mother; it seemed as‘if a beautiful vision had melted away from my sight—as if darkness had suddenly taken the place of light—as if there were a dreary void where an angel a moment before had been ! I cared not for the rest of the proceedings ; indeed I saw nothing more throughout the re- mainder of the ceremony. It is true that I con- tinued gazing in the direction of the ducal thrones —and doubtless I had the appearance of being as much interested as at first: but in reality all my attention was concentrated inward—my mental vision was alone exercising its faculty—I saw only the images of those three whom but an hour back I had deemed far away, and whom I therefore so little expected to behold in the Tuscan capital! “Ts it not a splendid spectacle?”—and as my Ttalian companion thus addressed me after a long silence, I awoke with a sudden start as if it were from a dream. “Ah! you are thinking of that beautiful creature who was the object of such uni- versal admiration? But still you cannot help ad- miring the general spectacle. It is one of the grandest receptions I have seen for some time. I generally manage to obtain a card for admission to the gallery. Ah! I recollect that some six or seven months ago there was a grander reception still—and such a scene took place, I never shall forget it!” As the Italian paused, I said for courtesy’s sake, «“ And what was that scene which made such an impression upon you?”—but I can assure the reader that my thoughts continued to be far other- wise engaged than with the Italian’s conversa- tion. “At that time,’ he resumed, “the Grand Duke’s nephew, the Marquis de Cassano, was Minister of the Interior: he was a man of great accomplishments—liberal-minded—and would no doubt have done a world of good, if he had not been thwarted by the other Ministers. I must in- form you that for a few days previous to that grand reception of which I have spoken, strange rumours had been in circulation to the effect that the Marquis de Cassano was secretly conspiring with the ultra-liberal party for the purpose of compelling the Grand Duke to dismiss the ob- _ noxious portion of his Cabinet and grant constitu- tional freedom to his people. It was even said that Cassano hag gone so far as to encourage the ultra-liberals to take up arms and assume a menacing attitude in order to carry out their views. Some believed these tales—others did not: but every one appeared to think that some extraordi- though of a very different nature, as the appear- ance of Annabel had previously done. For hap- pening to look slowly around the gallery, I per- ceived the door at the extremity open at the same instant; and an individual thrusting his head in, looked intently down into the body of the hall. And that individual was Mr. Lanover! The hall was now nearly emptied—the Grand Duke and Duchess were retiring with their suite— and the last remnant of the brilliant assembly that had passed by the thrones, were defiling towards the door. They were not twenty in num- ber, and could therefore be scanned at a glance. It appeared to be only such a glance as this that Mr. Lanoyer threw upon them; and then he immediately disappeared, the door of the gallery closing again. He did not observe me: of this I was perfectly confident: but his sudden apparition turned all my thoughts into a new channel. My Italian companion went on talking: but I scarcely comprehended a word he said. I afterwards re- membered only that he told me some tale about the Marquis of Cassano’s detection and disgrace, and of some exciting scene which occurred at the grand reception whereof he had previously spoken. I do not even know whether he had made an end of his story by the time the persons in the gallery rose to withdraw. | I took my leave of him; and issuing forth from the ducal palace, retraced my steps towards the hotel. As I proceeded thither, I continued to reflect on the sudden appearance of Mr. Lanover. Could it be possible that he was on friendly terms with Sir Matthew Heseltine—that he was again living with his wife, and that they were all travel- ling together? I scarcely thought this could be the ease: but if it were otherwise, was he follow- ing and watching them without their knowledge? and did he mean them mischief ?—for Mr. Lanover was certainly not an individual to go roaming about the Continent on a mere excursion of plea- sure. The longer I thought on all these things, the more I was perplexed: I knew not at what conclusion to arrive. Then, as I drew near the hotel, it oecurred to me that Sir Matthew and his party might possibly have put up there—especially if they had only very recently arrived in Florence : for it being a spacious establishment, it was quite possible for them to have been a day or two there without my catching a glimpse of them. My first care, therefore, on reaching the gateway, was to inquire of the porter, who spoke several languages, whether there were such persons staying at the hotel; and the answer was in the negative :— neither was there such an individual as Mr. Lanover. I did not choose to roam about the city while it was daylight, for fear of encountering Sir Matthew Heseltine, whose positive instructions I thus in- cessantly kept in view: for I knew how much depended on implicit obedience to the will of the eccentric old Baronet. Nevertheless my heart yearned—Oh! it yearned for a moment’s interview with Annabel; and I likewise reflected that if they were all ignorant of Mr. Lanover’s presence in the Tuscan capital, they ought to be made aware of it. nary scene would take place at the reception. And} But then, on the other hand, if he were there with sure enough there did “4 the Baronet’s knowledge and consent, would not At this moment I was startled by something | the circumstance of wy giving an intimation on which produced as sudden an effect upon me, | the point be regarded as a mere excuse to present GOMIGIOOKSEEO im