Pickwick Abroad: or, The Tour in France — page 215: what you’re looking at

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

{68 Pickwick Abroad, ance, as well as in face, chastity itself: her very purity restrained the republican within certain bounds, and operated like a magic charm upon him. He was unaccustomed to such society—that halo of inno- cence—that perfume of chastity inspired him with a certain dread— an uneasiness he could not account for—a discomfort that increased every moment. He dared no longer gaze for any length of time upon that virgin countenance —he could not brook the tranquil but implor- ing look of her whose reputation he wished to destroy. His compli- ments were with difficulty conveyed in an intelligible manner—his tongue refused to give utterance to the words that his passion would have dictated—he, who expected to have been a conqueror, wes him- self conquered. His lion-heart, always thirstimg after blood, sank in the presence of virgin innocence—his brain became confused—he re- pented of his cruelty—he could’have fallen at the feet of the injured girl near him—he could have licked the dust on which she walked, to demonstrate his contrition. The usually haughty, uncompromising, remorseless republican was reduced to the submissiveness of a lamb by the majesty of beauty combined with purity and virtue! | “No!” said Fouquier-Tinville, starting from his chair, and striking the table forcibly with his clenched fist—‘‘ no, Marguerite! you shall depart from this place as chaste as when you entered it—and in the course of future years, there may be found at least one being who will have learnt to bless the Public Accuser !”’ “Citizen Tinville, what mean you ?”’ cried Mademoiselle d’Erman- ville, unable to believe her own ears. ‘‘T mean, jeune demoiselle,” returned the republican, “ that I will conduct you back to the terrace where we met—and that I will now hand you the document I intended to have given you when my desires should have been gratified ;’,— and with these words Fouquier-Tinville gave Marguerite a sealed paper. The trembling girl opened the welcome envelope, and hastily glanced her eyes over the contents. eee ‘Gracious heavens!” she exclaimed, falling upon her knees at the feet of the Public Accuser—‘‘ my father then is pardoned !”’ ‘“‘-Ves.”? rejoined the republican functionary; ‘‘ my interest with the members of the Revolutionary Tribunal was sufficient to ensure that single act of mercy.”’ “My benefactor—my best friend!” exclaimed the over-joyed maiden, erasping the hands of the individual at whose feet she knelt, while he himself wept plentifully, and for the first time; for it was the most delicious moment of his stormy life. no “Rise, Marguerite—rise!’”’ cried Fouquier-Tinville, “and let us retrace our steps. My time is precious—and you, Mademoiselle, | will be glad to communicate the pleasing intelligence of your father’s release to the mother of whom you before spoke. Rise—for in an hour your parents shall reward your filial love; and, in future, think not that I shall be indifferent to your welfare. No—the Public Ac- cuser will ever be happy to hear any good tidings concerning one who perhaps has some reason to be grateful to him.” ‘‘Some reason!’ exclaimed the delighted Marguerite. Oh! so long as I live shall your kindness be remembered,” nor will I ever fail to bless a gracious Providence.” | 8 E@ORNIELOOOKS, (EC)