The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 105: what you’re looking at

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9 condition of his heart. We traversed the Alps by easy stages; for at every halting-place it appears that my poor father went wandering out amidst those dangerous glacier-regions, and that some- times his rambles were’ so protracted it was fenred that he was lost. Marguerite well remenn- bers that journey: she spoke of it last evening in vivid language. She recollects how we were nearly lost on the heights of Mount 8t. Bernard—and how the dogs of the Hospice were the instruments of our salvation. Sho likewise bears in mind how we tarried several days at that Hospice, and in what constant terror she was sustained by the protracted absences of my father awidst those glacier regions so sublime, so terrible! We passed on into Italy: but instead of tarrving there, as it firat of all ap- peared to be my father's intention, he hurried on the journey to Leghorn: there we took sbip for Marseilles ; and from Marseilles we travelled straight back to the mansion near Fontainebleau. There my father settled down again, after an ab- sence of about four monthe; and I was too young at the time to receive any Insting impressions of the journey. Never, my dear Zoe, until last night was [ aware that theso eyes of mine had gazed upon the Alps, or that I had ever passed beyond the frontier of France. I must observe that in consequence of the scandal excited by the Vis- count Delorme’s infamy in the netgbourhood of Fontainebleau, hie reapectable relative the Mar- chiovess quitted her mansion, taking the boy Alfred with her; and she proceeded to another estate which she had in the western partof France. Years then passed away.” - "Years passed away,” said Zoe, mournfully and mechanically repeating Olarine’s words ; “ aud you, my sweet friend, were brought up in ignorance of ali thet had taken place?” - te “Yes,” responded the young lady,—“in total: ignorance! Never was-the veil lifted from my eyes until last night. Oh! I am no longer ata loses to comprehend wherefore my father was s0 impatient, or else so afflicted, whenever in the innceence of girlhood I spoke of my mother. Alas! what pangs must I have excited in his breast ! ~and heaven knows how unconeciously on my part! My heart weeps bitter tears as I think of it—and likewise because, my dear Zoe, it is shock- ing——-Oh! it is shocking to be unable to look back with respect and with veneration towards the memory of a mother! Yes—and I now compre- hend likewise,” continued Clarine, her voice sink- ing #0 low that it would have been inaudible were it not for the naturally harmonious clearness of ite tones, — “‘I comprehend likewise what dreadful thought must sometimes be uppermost—perhaps ever up ost in the mind of my father! Zoe, dearest friend,” added the -unhappy Clerine, with a strong convulsing shudder, and fixing hb locks upon Lady Octavian’s countenance, “I now comprehend — my God! I comprehend that he doubts whether I am his own child!” With these words, Clarine threw herself upon Zoe's bosom and wept bitterly. Her own bosom was torn and rent with convulsing sobs :—for some minutes she appeared as if totally unsusceptible of solace. Zoe lavished sisterly caresses upon her— but she spoke no word: language itself were a mockery if seized upon as a resource to convey consolation under such circumstances. Bat there THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. is no humen anguish so profound that it does note expend itself: and thus was it at length with the grief of the unfortunate Clarine. “Let me hasten, dear Zoe,” she said, “ to bring my unhappy narrative to a conclusion. But it is about to take a strange leap—and you will at first marvel how I am ina condition to tell you that which Iam about to communicate. Nevertheless, it is the truth—it is no idle dream—no phantasy of the fevered imagination! I am about to speak of the Marchioness and of Delorme’s son Alfred. Years passed away after the terrific explosion near Fontainebleau ; and Alfred Delorme grew up under the affectionate care of his excellent relative. Meanwhile no tidings had been received from his father. The Marchioness had therefore long deemed the Viscount dead: but it was necessary that Alfred Delorme should reach his twenty-first year before legal proceedings could be taken to establish his claim to the title and estates of his father. It appears that at the very time he attained his ma- jority, some report of a marvellous and singu- lar nature relative to the late Viscount reached the ears of the Marchioness. It was a statement of such a kind that though it seemed scarcely cre- dible, she was resolved to sift it to the very bottom. Though stricken in years—indeed bordering upon eixty—she resolved for Alfred’s sake to take this step. Tam now apeaking of a date between six and seven years back. The Marchioness, in con. sequence of the intelligence to which I have just referred, resolved to undertake # journey into Switzerland. Alfred Delorme went with her. In due time they reached the Hospice of Mount St. Bernard: for this was their destination. There the Marchioness instituted the inquiries for which purpose she had dared a journey so perilous, and eo trying for one of her years. The intelligence ste hed received in France was completely correct: the fate of the Viscount Delorme was cleared up— it ceased to be a mystery !” “And that fate?” said Zoe, with a half-hushed voice of suspense : for sho experienced the livelicst interest in the narrative to which she was listen- ing. e It appears,” continued Clarine, “that when the Viscount Delorme fled from Fontainebleau in order to avoid my father’s vengeance, ho was at- tended by only one domestio—a faithful valet who had been for some time in his service. Having before been in Italy, the Viscount determined to return to that country. On arriving at the vil- lage of Martigny in the valley which is overlooked by the towering heights of Mount 8t. Bernard, the valet was taken dangerously ill; and whether it were through an ungrateful reckleseness for the man’s fidelity—or whether 1¢ were for any other reason, I cannot tell you: but certain i¢ is that the Viscount Delorme left him there amidst strangers, bidding him follow on to Naples if he should happen to recover. The valet did recover after a long and painful illness; and he proceeded to Naples. But there he could hear no tidings of his master. He returned to France—repaired to Fontainebleau—thence to the estate to which the Marchioness had removed— but still without learn- ing aught of the Viscount Delorme. He therefore engaged himself in the service of another family; and many years then passed away. At length— abou} seven years ago—this valet was in the ecr- (COLL _ __ a, (A) OOO SS} (COLL