Pickwick Abroad: or, The Tour in France — page 289: what you’re looking at

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

PICKWICK ABROAD. | 239 garually revived, she related to the countess her attachment to Heetor, e vows of constancy she had expressed to him by means of the symbolic flowers, and the ominous words of the young priest. Ma- ame de Lamoreau charged her, as she valued her peace and that of the chevalier, not to breathe to a single soul a sentence relative to those occurrences. * * : * , ‘Impossible! it cannot be—oh! no—it is impossible!” cried the chevalier as he paced his apartment with hurried steps. His cheek was ashy pale—his hair almost stood on end-—his dress was in dis- order—his left hand was firmly clenched—his nght held a small piece of paper in the form of a note or billet. ‘‘Oh! no—my sight deceives me—my eyes are waxing dim—TI have not read mghtly—” and he perused the letter for the twentieth time to establish conviction the more deeply in his mind. ‘“‘ Alas! ’tis too true—” he said, contract- ing his forehead into a thousand wrinkles, and stamping violently on the floor—“‘ it is too true! Eighteen months only of connubmal bliss —and then—to lose all—to be degraded—to have my gray hairs sprinkled with the ashes of dishonour! Oh !—misgui ing—thy Slood alone can wipe away this stain:”—then suddenly recollecting himself, he added with a bitter smile, ‘‘ But no—not thine, creature—thy paramour shall atone for both your crimes! Frail wo- man—and thou, basest of men-—-how I now hate, detest, revile, de- spise ye both! Avaunt, sad evidences of my dishonour—better were it, perhaps, that I had never seen thee !”-—and he tore the letter isttoa thousand pieces, _ Such were the ravings of the chevalier, as he paced his a rae in a state of min tat no pen—2o language can escribe, Hie faith- ful valet Lafleur overheard the whole, and thus unintentionally became the depositor of a secret that menaced the ruin of a noble family’s honour. He knew not how to act-—what course to pursue. He was afraid his master might lay violent hands sagt destroy the sinfal Eugenie in a moment of passion. em tof the valet was presently increased by the sound of hie master’s bell, and he hastened to obey the summons, his breast teeming with mingled curi- osity and alarm. ‘Tell Amelie I wish to speak with her,” said the chevalier, affecting a coolness he did not-—could not feel. ‘“* My lady’s femme-de-chambre ?” enquired Lafleur. ‘‘ Certainly—what other Amelie could I mean, fool?’ cried De Valmont, all his subdued anger bursting forth against the do- mestic, who fled as quickly as he could to obey the orders of SE ter, oo whom any ebullition of wrath was as rare as the visits of ange ‘How is your mistress to-day, Amelie?” enquired the chevalier, when the femme-de-chambre entered the apa This was his neual query in the morning: a variation would have excited some 1lcTon. ee Monsiewr, Madame complains of a partial head-ache at this mo- ment; but as she is presently going to confesse at St. Sulpice, the fresh air will Bie ably benefit her.” ‘‘Ah! is this Saturday ?” exclaimed the chevalier, a sudden ides (COLA @ 6)(0)() <S (CO)