Beadle's Dime Library No. 316 — page 18: what you’re looking at

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

—— “- 7 oe" re-* _— ed - } 18 move. His head rested on the arm of the countess who was applying a cruet of salts to his nostrils, and wuich Miss McDonald had thrust into her band. The count besitated a moment how to reply. But seeing the necessity there was of turning aside suspicion, fearing that even his character and influence would not shield Theodore from the resentment of the English, should it be known he had been with Lafitte, he resolved to shield him at any sacrifice even of*truth. “He is, sir,” he answered. “It is nothing alarming. He willsoon recover. I regret that such an occurrence should have takeu place in our presence, Miss McDonald, and yours, gen- lemen.” ‘‘XT:ke no apologies, monsieur,” answered General McDonald. ‘‘ He seemstobe reviving.” Making a great mental effort, Theodore, with the assistance of the count, stood up. He was ale as marble. Miss McDonald surrendered er ottoman, warmly insisting that he should occupy it until he had quite recovered. He met her sympathizing looks, and returning her a faint, grateful smile, suffered the countess to conduct him toit. All the while the regards of General McDonald were fixed upon him with singular intensity—with an expression of one endeavoring to recollect a face. ‘T owe you an apology for my foolishness,” said Theodore, looking round upon them with a countenance frank and grateful, and, to the de- light of the countess, who anxiously watched every motion of his features, wholly free from any of the emotion which she knew lay at his heart. ‘Do not speak of it, sir,” said Captain Stew- art, cordially, “* You still look very pale. Will you take a glass of wine.” This Theodore declined; but Miss McDonald, with her own hands, filled a wine-glass, and resenting it, said, with a smile and a deep lush: * You certainly will not refuse mm, sir?” He did not reply. He could not find words at will, But as he received the glass he raised his eyes to hers, and they spoke to her more elo- quently than the tongue. How exquisite the happiness of that moment to him! He forgot in her presence that he bad suffered—that he was —shall we say it—an outlaw! For such he was in the eye of the nations. Oh, how sweet was the consciousness that he was the object of the sympathy of one whom he felt he could love with all his being! And what strange, sweet happiness, flowed up into her heart from new and fresh fountains of her being. Sad and touching was the character of this new happi- ness, because she felt that he who had unsealed its sources was sad and sorrowful. Why so she knew not! But she was satisfied that there was a mystery. She recalled his former emotion and exclamation, and thought upon his recent cingular conduct, The few whispered words of the countess had, moreover, reached her ears, and ber manner, and that of the count, which she remarked as strange, impressed her irresis- tibly with the conviction that the young stran- ger’s illness was produced by some cause whol] unconnected with physical suffering. And it was this conviction, with the discovery tbat the countess and count were plainly striving to con- ceal something, that prompted ber with gener- ous sympathy for them, to cffer as a reason for his i]lness the heat of the cabin, which she knew it could not be, especially as Tbeodore was standing in the very entrance of it. ‘* There is some mystery—painful and distress- ing—at the bottom of all this,” she said to her- self; “it is a mystery between the three, It must be some terrible cause to produce such an effect. What could it possibly have been? Could it have been from the force of his own thoughts? What was said in conversation? They were talking about Lafitte. Let me recall! I can remember nothing that was said that could have produced this, Ah! perhaps he was in \he attack with the count, bis father, against the pirate, and lost a friend or brother, whom this conversation brought forcibly to mind. I can conceive nothing else. How noble-looking be is, and with what gratefal tenderness mip- gled with gentlemanly courtesy he returned to me the glass. I see my poor heart is taken cap- tive at last! but to one like him it would be a willing slave.” These r flections passed through her mind as she turned from him and placed the balf- emptied wine-glass upon the marble buffet above the transom. Revived by the mee oH Theodore recovered all his self possession, @ encountered the eye of the countess, whose im ploring, beseeching look confirmed his resolu- tion. We saw that she was fully aware of bis danger if he should be discovered; and that the count could not protect him from English ustice, ‘If I betray this secret,” he said with a slight shudder, ‘1 feel tbat I am lost. Infamy and perhaps a degrading death await me. Jam in- pocent, it is true, but the stern eye of the law would see no difference between me and others —this Elliot for instance. On the contrary, having been a tege of Lafitte’s, I should be suspected of being deeper dyed iu crime—more skilled in piracy than bis men would be, I Lafitte’s Lieutenant. | neoril see from the tone and language both of aptain Stewart and of Captain |Lennox, that l have only to betray myself to be put under arrest, I did not suppose—I did not e-nceive that there still existed in the British Govern- ment the hostility that it seems remains against my late guilty benefactor, and, alas, against all associated with him. The secret lies not so much in the piracy of which they were guilty as in the fact of their having turned their arms against them. I was with Lafitte too, in the battle of New Orleans, as well as in his piracies. Before me lies worry or honor. A repetition of the weakness of this past hour will assured- ly bring upon me the former. Oh, God! that , with every impulse to good—to virtue—to honor, should from a circumstance beyond my control, affecting my youthful years, tremble like the veriest wretch lest at any moment ac- opto should brand my character with in amy. These thoughts passed through his mind as he sat with the countess and count placed on either side encouraging him by their looks, the ex- pression of which did not escape the observing eye of Miss McDonald who, deeply interested in Theodore, let nothing escape which could serve to unfold the mystery that she felt hung around him. Hearing from the deck the momentary con- fusion that was caused in the cabin by the ef- fects of the recent conversation upon Theodore, Captain Lennox had gone to the companion- way and looked down. Theodore’s face was visibly by the light of the cabin lamp, as bis head lay supported by the arm of the count, and as he gazed upon the pale outline, there was something in them that struck him as fa- miliar. Instead of descending into the cabin, he remained gazing down upon his countenance and striving to recall where and when be had seen them, After several efforts of memory he was as far as at first from success; and Theodore had risen and removed to his seat on the sofa be- fore he could form any conjecture, ‘*This is curious,” he said to himself, as he turned away to walk the deck, and try to think it out; ‘‘somewherse I have seen that young count’s face, But where or under what circum- stances I find itimpossible toracall, But that I have seen him before, and under interesting circumstances, I am as sure of as that lam on board the Sieuth Hound! How it haunts me, I shall not rest, I feel sure of that, till 1 ascer- tain. By heavens, I'll ask him, but that I find out, There comes the general and the captain of the Minerva. I hope they will conclude to lift anchor at once and let her drift into the current.” ‘““Well, Lennox,” said Captain Stewart, ‘‘what do you think about moving? There is no wind, I see, but she’!l take the stream kindly by getting the boats ahead and towing her out into the middle of tbe river.” ‘Yes, sir. The current would take us down four kuot.” ‘*TIs there no danger of being carried against the bank in any of these short bends of the river?’ asked General McDonald. ‘*We can keep the boats out to pull her off and keep ber well out, if there is any danger; besides, she steers like a swallow,” answered Captain Lennox. ‘‘Uniess you bave some mo- tive, gentlemen, in remaining longer, I should recommend moving down at ance, We should float down as low as the marshes by morning. It is now but little past nine o’clock!” he added, looking at the watch in the binnacle, “* What do you say, general?” “*] should prefer, Captain Stewart, to go to- night. “Then you had best heave the anchor up, L-nnox,” said Captain Stewart. ‘*Bus the gentleman and lady in the cabin! They will have to be put ashore in one of the boats first,” said General McDonald. ‘The young man came in his own barge,” said Captain Stewart. ‘It lies nlongside now, with six negroes for oarsmen. The count and lady can go off with him.” ‘*T will then at once give orders to weigh,” said Captain Lennox, turning to bis first lieu- tenant, who was leaning over the larboard tul- warks smoking a cigar, In a few moments all on board the brig was in motion. The windlass flew clattering round to the cheery heave-yo of the seamen, and the vessel rapidly walked upto her anchor, Atthe first order the count came on deck, and was met at the companionway by General McDonald. ‘*Do not think, monsieur,” he said, smiling, ‘*that if is our intention to make you and your lady prisoners,” ‘You have decided then to start to-night,” remarked the count. ‘*'Yes—as our time is limited,” ‘* We regret we could not entertain you as our guests for a few days,” said the countess. also appearivg on deck, and speaking with infinite grace, ‘*I assure you, madam,” answered General McDonald, ‘that we are the Josers by our re- _ blusbing. must promise to inform me; for then I shall make you my guests by hospitable coercion.” ‘* We contemplate going abroad in the spring,” said the count, ‘“‘If we remain in England long enough to accept of your couriesy, we shall not fail to inform you of our being there,” ** Your daughter, general, has deeply interest- ed me, and to meet ber again would afford me the greatest pleasure,” said the countess, ‘‘ How beautiful she is!” “She is a sweet good creature, is Emma,” an- swered the general, pleased at the praise be- stowed upon hischild, ‘‘She isa treasure and merits a crown instead of a cororet.” ‘* And is she betrothed to any noble?” quickly asked the countess, ‘‘ No—not she! She loves me too well and herself too, the spoiled pet, to give ber hand or heart to any one! I meant that though she would probably marry a coronet when she does wed, she OUGHT to bave a prince.” “This isa sad mission she has accompanied you upon, sir,” said the countess in a subdued tone, and slightly Srencing toward the crape- wreathed canopy and pall, a few feet from which they were standing. ‘* Yes,” answered General McDonald looking with a melancholy air toward thee ffin. * Itis of little consequence, madam, where sleep the brave, If they lie on the batrle-field where they fall, perhaps that would be the most fit rest- ing place, as my brother’s were laid by his sol- diers, But he left a daughter, Emma’s cousin, a year and a few months ber junior, and very like her, save Emma has blue eyes and her cousin's are as brown asa chestnut, This child has the last year so urgently and so often re- quested that her father’s remains may be re- moved to England and he properly entombed, as became his rank and distinction as an officer, that lhad the matter brought before Parlia- ment and the result was the order which it is now my melancholy duty to fulfill.” ‘You were kind to yield to the orphan of Lord Clarence, sir.” ‘* No,” answered General Mc Donald, bluntly; **T was quite as anxious to have my brother lie in England as she could be. When I said that the best grave for a soldier was the hattle-field, I spoke only a general sentiment. My brotiir Edward was very dear to me; and when [ Jearn- ed that he had fallen, and lay buried in an enemy’s land, it was my first impulse to have his body at once conveyed to England, But being, myself, ordered on foreign service to Spain, I let things remain as they were, until his daughter, growing into womanhood, brougLt the subject once more before me.” ‘Such reverence for a father’s memory is noble and praiseworthy,” $6 It is, madam. Sbe too is noble and wor- ‘*Why did she not accompany you and her cousin, Miss MeDonald?’ ‘‘She is but eighteen and has not completed her tuition under governesses, Besides it would have been too painful to ber.” ‘* You bave interested me in vour niece, Shall I see ber if I visit England?’ asked the countess, smiling. ‘*Yes—if you come down to Northumber- land, countess, otherwise no!” he said, assuming her tone and manner. While this conversation was going on, Cap- tain Stewart and the count were talking upon a subject connected with the French Marine, and upon the merits of a new kind of gun which had heen introduced into it, but not yet used in the British service, In the cabin, also, there was passing a con- versation of at least equel interest to the parties themselves. With delicate tact the countess bad left the cabin for the deck, direetly aftcr her husband. L ft together, a conscious embar- rassment gave to the cheeks of both a deeper tinge. Theodore cast down his eyes and felt his pulse beating faster and faster each moment. A sweet, pleasing serse of her presence filled bis soul, She, also, dropped her eyes and seem- ed embarrassed as he was, But woman has always self-possession first. She felt the Judi- crousness of two well-bred persons sitting alone together, looking desperately at the carpet, and laughed and spoke, while she cast upon him a 4 her beautiful blue eyes, ‘‘I bave been introduced to you, Sir Cavalier Silent,” she said, in a voice in richness of tone never surpassed; ‘but, methinks, your good father omitted to name the young gentleman I have the honor to address.” Her ease—ber graceful animation—her native playfulness of word and manner, at once re- stored him to confidence and his usual address, ‘In your presence one is excusable if he for- pets his own name, much less that of another,” e gallantly answered, She suw there was a vein of deep earnestness beneath the compliment. ‘*[ see you are bred a courtier,” she said, ‘*But vou certuinly have not for- gotten your name,” she added, lahghing. fusal. What we have already experienced of | ‘It is Theodore,” your courtesy, has inspired us with a desire to now you and your husband better, I trust we shall meet again. If you visit England you ‘*Ab—yes! Iheard the countess, your beauti- ful mother, call you by that name. By the by, she is very youtbful to be your tmoither, Sir EOPMICLOOO KS (ee) — a