The fatigue which I had endured throughout the preceding day had been unfelt during the time that I passed in active exertion; but the moment my head touched the pillow, an overpowering sense of drowsiness fell upon me; and without any of that consciousness of falling asleep--which has, perhaps, something awful in it, from the sensible relinquishment of intelligent existence--I passed into a state of utter forgetfulness, which lasted between seven and eight hours. On waking I felt that I had slept long; and dressing myself as fast as possible, I hurried down to the saloon, in which, as a sort of rallying point for the whole household, I was sure to find some one. My delight may be supposed, when the one that I did find was my own beloved Laura. To bound forward towards me, as she had done from infancy, was her first emotion, and to it she yielded without fear, feeling, as I, too, felt, that the pain and the apprehension which for many a day had hung upon our morning meetings, were now cleared away, like clouds from the sun, and that all was happiness.

"You have slept long, De Juvigny," she said, looking up in my face with a smile; "you have slept long, and you look happy!"

"I have slept long and deeply, my beloved," I replied; "but remember, that for the last eight nights I have hardly known what sleep is."

The tears rose in Laura's eyes; but those tears that spring, in moments of joy, from the recollection of past sorrows, are not amongst the least sweet things of life. "I wish, De Juvigny," she replied, "I wish that all the hours of sleep which, during these eight days, fled from my pillow also, could have gone and rested upon yours. But little repose, indeed, have I known myself; and of course my thoughts, through those long tedious nights, were not rendered less sorrowful by thinking of all that you were suffering at the same time. But let us not remember anything unhappy now. My father has passed a very tranquil night, and the surgeon assures me that there is but little chance of his wound proving dangerous."

"Is Monsieur de Villardin awake, then?" I demanded.

"He has been so for some time," she answered, "and is now sitting up speaking with the Count, who, finding my father so much better, has determined to set out to-day for Paris, glad to leave our dear Brittany, and what he calls its semi-barbarous inhabitants--and our gloomy chÂteau--and poor Laura de Villardin--and to betake himself to courts and cities, and scenes and people, much better fitted to him than any he has met with here."

She spoke with all the playful gaiety of former days; but I knew my dear Laura too well to believe that she would even have jested in regard to a man who had behaved so generously as I believed the Count to have done, had she not known some trait in his character which might detract a little from the apparent liberality of his conduct. She felt sorry, however, even for the slight touch of bitterness that had mingled with her words, almost as soon as they were spoken; and added, "It is very wrong of me, I believe, to feel so glad of the departure of a man who has behaved so kindly to us; and who, with the power, and, perhaps, with some inducements, to make us very miserable, has, on the contrary, made us very happy; but I cannot help it, De Juvigny; and the very feelings which I detect in my own heart now, make me tremble to think what would have been those I should have experienced, had I been forced to marry a man I could not love. But go now to my father, who is anxious to see you too; and your presence will probably break off his conversation with the Count, which I am sure has continued too long for his health already."

I lingered a moment or two more, and then proceeded to the apartments of Monsieur de Villardin, where I found the Count in the act of taking his leave. Father Ferdinand, also, was present; but as the good priest remained with the Duke, I was commissioned to do all due honours to the departing guest, and it would be vain to deny that I felt the same satisfaction on seeing him enter his carriage, and quit the PrÉs VallÉe, that Laura had so artlessly expressed. I was about to seek another moment of happiness with Laura ere I returned to the chamber of her father, when the young commander of the guards stepped up to me and begged a few minutes' conversation. Of course I could not refuse; and taking him into the library as the nearest vacant apartment, I requested him to state his commands.

"Why, the truth is, Monsieur le Baron," he said, with a somewhat rueful air--"the truth is, one of our prisoners has contrived to slip through our fingers."

"Which? Which? Not the one I myself made?" I cried--fearing that it might be Gaspard de Belleville, and feeling now convinced, from all that had happened during the last ten years, that it was not quite so necessary, or so indifferent, to have even one bitter enemy loose in the same world with us, as I had once thought it--"Not the one I made myself, surely?"

"The very same," answered the young officer. "However, I trust there is no great harm done; for it matters little which way such a fellow meets his death. If he had been taken alive to Rennes, he would have been hung, of course, and now he has but broken his neck. So it makes little difference."

"Broken his neck!" I exclaimed. "Explain! explain! my good sir!"

"Yes!" he answered; "he has simply broken his neck. The fact was, you were all so busy last night, and so much occupied with Monsieur de Villardin and Mademoiselle, that we were obliged to dispose of him as well as we could; and therefore, as the safest place, we put him up in the small room at the top of the west tower. There is a buttress, you know, runs down the side just between the windows, with a sort of steps upon it as it grows thicker; and it would seem ^hat by this means he fancied he could make his escape. He must have fallen, however, in trying to reach the buttress, for his body was found quite dead, and cold, almost exactly beneath the window of the chamber in which he was confined."

I remembered, as he spoke, having in boyhood performed, as a feat, the descent from that very window, while Gaspard de Belleville had stood by and looked on, declaring that nothing was so easy, and that any one could do it if they took the trouble of trying. Little had I thought at the time that the very attempt would prove the cause of his death; but I clearly perceived that the remembrance of my boyish feat, and the apparent ease with which it had been performed, had induced the unhappy man to make an effort for escape by that means.

In answer to my inquiries regarding the hour at which the body had been found, the young officer replied: "Oh, it was early this morning. I was about to march, as, of course, it is my duty to return to Rennes as soon as possible, though I thought it right, for the safety of the chÂteau, to remain all last night."

I smiled, and remarking that I did so, he went on, with a smile, in return: "It was as I said, early this morning, but although I caught a glance of Mademoiselle de Villardin a few moments ago, I thought it useless to speak with her about it, as she has seen more of cutting throats and breaking heads already than ladies generally like. So I reserved my news for you, Monsieur le Baron, as you seem to command the garrison, I think."

It is wonderful how soon a Frenchman discovers it, if there be love going on in a house; and it was easy to see, by the gay look which accompanied his words, to what the young officer alluded by my commanding the garrison. Nor did I doubt that, on his return to Rennes, he would carry a full account along with him of all the changes which had taken place in the arrangements of Monsieur de Villardin's family; but as those changes were very satisfactory to myself, of course I did not now much care whether the world were a sharer in my secret or not. Without any comment then on that part of his speech, I accompanied him to take a view of the body of Gaspard de Belleville, and found that as his skull had been terribly fractured by the fall, his death must have been instantaneous. Such being the case, I was not sorry that he had been spared all the horrors of a public execution, and therefore I had very little to regret in his death. I was sorry, indeed, that I had not obtained from him some explanations in regard to all that had occurred, which he alone could have afforded. A thousand times during the preceding evening I had been upon the point of visiting him in his confinement; but something had always occurred to prevent my doing so till it was too late; and, to say the truth, it was not very probable that he would have given me any satisfactory reply in the state of sullen despair into which he had fallen. Nothing, however, was now to be done further than to sec the young officer march off his men to Rennes, which he soon after did, carrying with him the two prisoners who remained. They, at their very first interview with the police, were recognised as arrant malefactors; and at the end of ten days expiated many an enormity, besides that under which we had suffered, by the forfeiture of their lives upon the scaffold.

Once more left in the chÂteau with none but its usual inhabitants, I immediately proceeded to the chamber of Monsieur de Villardin, whom I found infinitely better than I could have expected. He felt that he had been wounded, he said, it was true; but with the exception of some slight pain and stiffness, he was as well as ever. Laura was with him when I entered; and, with the permission of the surgeon, we remained at his bedside for nearly an hour.

When we left him we were joined by Father Ferdinand, who, informing me that he was about to send to Dumont for some books, suggested that by the same messenger I should recal my servants and little Clement de la Marke, which was accordingly done. The good priest remained with us till after dinner, and then, perhaps feeling that both in Laura's heart and mine there was many a topic of conversation which could not be discussed before any one, he left us to ourselves for the rest of the evening. How that evening passed must be imagined; for all the happiness, and the dreams, and the rapture, and the mutual questions and explanations that ensued, cannot be described. The cup of joy was never drained more deeply, and never tasted sweeter, than when, after all the agony we had suffered, we felt ourselves at length assured of happiness, and of each other.

We were again admitted to Monsieur de Villardin for an hour before he went to sleep; and, as he still continued wonderfully well, all apprehensions on his account vanished, and not a drop of bitter mingled with the sweet.

It was late when we parted; and, seeking my own apartments, I was about to give myself up to that more quiet and contemplative enjoyment, which had now succeeded after all the hurried and fluttering rapture of the reciprocation of words of hope and affection with a being so dearly loved, on the termination of all our sorrows and anxieties; but a light tap at my door disturbed me: and, opening it, I beheld Lise, who had spent the greater part of the day in Rennes, appearing now with a face of some anxiety and consternation. When one has suffered much pain and frequent disappointment, it is extraordinary how apprehensive the heart becomes; and I immediately concluded, from the countenance of the soubrette, that some new misfortune or catastrophe had occurred to mar all our joy.

"Come in, Lise--come in!" I cried.--"What is the matter? You look frightened!"

"Oh, Monsieur," she replied, "I am afraid that I have got myself into a terrible scrape!"

Selfishness is certainly inherent in man; and it was, I confess, an infinite relief to me to hear that her anxieties were personal. I desired her, however, as kindly as I could, to tell me what was the matter, promising to do everything in my power to assist her in her difficulty.

"Oh, that you are bound to do, Monsieur le Baron," she replied: "for it was all done on your account. But I will tell you all about it. You remember I informed you that I knew of a priest who, for a small sum, would marry you and Mademoiselle privately; but I did not tell you that I went a day or two after and spoke to him all about it, being very sure that you would be obliged to come to a private marriage at last--which you would, too, if it had not been for all this affair. However, as I was saying, I went and told him all about it, as we were walking along under the Thabor, thinking that nobody on earth was there but ourselves; and just as we had done, and he had promised to do all that I wanted, up got a man from amongst the trees and walked away over the mount. Well, we did not heed him particularly, but he must have overheard all we said; for this morning, when I went down to Rennes, I saw the priest, whose name I will not mention, and who made such an outcry against me, saying that I had been his ruin. When I asked what was the matter, he told me that early yesterday morning a man came to him, saying, that Mademoiselle Lise, of the chÂteau at the PrÉs VallÉe, had sent him to say, that the young lady and gentleman who were to be married, did not dare to venture into Rennes; but that if he would follow to the old chapel in the forest, which was regularly consecrated, they would meet him there, and that he should have two thousand livres for his pains. Although he thought it somewhat strange altogether, yet the two thousand livres tempted him, and he went; but when he came there, he found himself in the hands of the robbers, and all that horrible business took place, of which Mademoiselle gave me such a dreadful account last night."

"So, so!" I said. "So this was the priest, was it, ma bonne Lise! Well, all I can tell you in regard to him is, that he seemed to have neither fear nor reluctance in obeying all that the villains told him to do; and sincerely do I think he deserves most exemplary punishment for his pains."

"Ah, but Monsieur!" cried Lise, "you cannot punish him without punishing me too; for, as sure as we are all alive, he will tell everything that I proposed to him to do, if the other matter is found out; and then, you know, the Duke will send me away from Mademoiselle; and then I shall die of grief and vexation; and all because I wished to help you and my lady in your love."

Although I felt perfectly sure that Lise's acquaintance, the priest, was as great a villain as any of the robbers in whose hands I had found him, and doubted not that the great part of their information had come from him, yet I thought it much better to let the matter sleep, than, by taking any measures to punish him, to make a general expose of all that had occurred during the last two or three months at the PrÉs VallÉe, which, though innocent enough on all parts, and certainly not discreditable to any one for whom my affections were deeply engaged, would be far better confined, as far as possible, to our own household, without being blazed forth to the rude evil-reporting world. For poor Lise, too--although she had certainly acted sillily--I could not, of course, help feeling a regard, as one of those whom she intended to benefit by the very act which was now likely to prove of detriment to herself; and I hastened to relieve her mind by assuring her that I would not only take no measures to bring the offences of the priest to light, but would do all in my power to prevent any farther investigation of the affair.

"It will be better for him," I added, speaking of the priest--"it will be better for him, however, to betake himself to some other part of the country for a time, as Monsieur de Villardin and a number of the servants must have seen him, and may recognise him in the city the first time we chance to visit it. Give him that advice, therefore, my good Lise; and tell him that in case he wants a few livres to enable him to change his cure for the time, they shall be furnished to him forthwith, on the understanding that he is to quit Rennes."

Lise's heart overflowed with gratitude and satisfaction; and promising to communicate all my directions to the priest, and undertaking that he should obey them implicitly, she left me with a mind relieved. Nor did I, indeed, anticipate much chance of the priest being discovered and punished; for I am sorry to say that such offences, especially in Brittany, were at that time suffered to pass with very singular impunity.

I was an earlier riser on the following day than I had been on that morning; and daybreak found me up and in the ante-room of Monsieur de Villardin. The truth was, that the excitement of my mind was no longer counterbalanced by the fatigue of my body, and consequently I slept little all night, though the reveries that visited my conch were certainly as sweet as any that ever blessed the heart of man. I was somewhat anxious about Monsieur de Villardin, too, as the surgeon had told me that, in case of any danger supervening from his wound, it was likely to show itself during that night. The Duke, however, was asleep when I entered; and though the surgeon who had sat up with him informed me that some slight fever had appeared, he added, that it was nothing more than the inevitable consequences of the injury he had received, and that the slumber which followed was an indubitable sign that no evil was to be anticipated. I remained in the Duke's apartments till he woke, which did not take place for several hours, and I then found him refreshed and easy, so that all apprehension was at an end.

In the evening, my servants and Clement de la Marke arrived from Dumont; and the boy petitioned so earnestly to see Monsieur de Villardin, that Father Ferdinand, with the consent of the surgeon, permitted him to do so. Monsieur de Villardin's convalescence was progressive and rapid. Every cloud seemed wafted away from our fate; every tear seemed wiped away from our eyes; and nothing but the smile of joy or the sunshine of happiness was seen within the chÂteau, so lately the abode of misery and apprehension. At the end of a few days, Monsieur de Villardin was suffered to rise; at the end of a few more, he was permitted to come down for some hours each day; and ere a fortnight was over, he was walking up and down the terrace, leaning upon my arm, more from weakness induced by the treatment he had undergone in order to prevent inflammation and fever, than from the actual consequences of his wound.

Our old habits were soon resumed; and it added not a little to my happiness to see the evident pleasure with which Monsieur de Villardin beheld the undisguised affection of his daughter and myself. Often, indeed, he would speak of it to me in terms of the highest satisfaction; and again and again he assured me, as he had done before, that if he had entertained a thought that our hearts were so deeply bound to each other, he would never, on any account, have promised Laura's hand to another.

"As soon," he said, when conversing with me one day upon our present circumstances, and our future prospects--"as soon as it be possible, I will put the last seal to your union. I look upon it, indeed, as an atonement I owe you both for not having seen your mutual affection, as I might well have done, and for all that I was obliged to make you suffer in consequence of my own blindness. We must, however, in the first instance, suffer the memory of this other business to die away in some slight degree, especially as you well know that it is, in this country, necessary to obtain the consent of his Majesty in the first place. I feel sure, indeed, that both your services and mine will plead too strongly in our favour for any difficulty to occur in our obtaining the royal approbation, which is seldom, if ever, refused where no obstacle is raised on the part of the parents. But still, under all circumstances, I should much wish you to serve through another campaign, in the course of which I doubt not that you will establish new and powerful claims upon the throne."

"I do not know, monseigneur," I replied, laughing; "but one thing I feel very sure of, which is, that, with all the inducements I now have to love life, and the things that it contains, I shall be certainly much more careful of my own person than I used to be in days of old."

"That will be no disadvantage, De Juvigny," replied Monsieur de Villardin, almost gravely. "You were always too careless of your own person; and, in the last campaign, rash to a vice. To observe it in you was a matter of pain and surprise to me, till I discovered your love for Laura; and then, though fully appreciating the generous feelings which made you prefer death rather than wrong me in the least point, yet I was sorry to find that you should think any circumstances sufficient to justify a man in seeking to terminate his own existence. Do you think, De Juvigny, that I have not had cause sufficient to snatch at death, if ever man ought to do it? Do you think that I have not had temptations to self-destruction, had I not felt that such an act is base and cowardly, as well as absurd?"

"I do not deny, my lord," I replied, "that some feelings, such as you suppose, might influence me at first, after discovering what was the state of my own heart towards Mademoiselle de Villardin. But I soon saw the folly of yielding to them; and I can assure you, upon my honour, that if, during the rest of the campaign, I exposed myself unnecessarily, it was done unconsciously."

"I am glad to hear it, De Juvigny; I am glad to hear it," replied Monsieur de Villardin; "for it was certainly the greatest fault I ever saw you commit. However, when you join the army again, be as careful of your own person as it is in your nature to be; and remember, that if you fall, Laura loses a husband, and I lose a son. There are few men," he added, smiling, "to whom one would willingly address such cautions in sending them forth to battle. But I know that it would be difficult to put too many checks upon you."

Although I certainly did not anticipate any farther impediment to my happiness, yet it was very natural that I should desire to call Laura my wife before I again joined the army. Nor did I fail to let Monsieur de Villardin know that such was the case; but he, of course, preferred his plan to mine, and I was obliged to yield with a good grace. At the time that this conversation took place, which was about three weeks after my return from Dumont, there still remained full two, if not three, months, ere I was likely again to be called to the field; and as one probably makes up one's mind to that which is remote more easily than to that which is near at hand, Laura and myself did not suffer the prospect of being once more separated before our union, to disturb our happiness in the meantime.

There was only one thing, however, which gave me uneasiness, which was, to observe that, although the surgeons had declared Monsieur de Villardin to be well, and had consequently taken their leave, yet that he himself did not seem to think his recovery so perfect as they did. The ball was still lodged in his body, the surgeons declaring that it had formed itself a bed under the shoulder bone, whence it could not be extracted, and where it could occasion neither inconvenience nor injury; but still Monsieur de Villardin complained of occasional pain, and I remarked that, in the morning, he was more than commonly gloomy and depressed, while every evening his spirits rose to a much higher pitch than had been usual with him for many years, and a bright flush took possession of his cheek, very different from its usual colour.

All this made me uneasy; and I saw that he himself was not satisfied with his own situation, often talking of going to some of those places in the Pyrenees, the waters of which are famous for the cure of gunshot wounds. I did all that I could to encourage this idea, and also to amuse and occupy his mind in the morning when he seemed most depressed. But it was in vain that I made the latter attempt; he seemed to love solitude, and to be somewhat impatient of interruption or society. The autumn proved a very rainy one; and, when he was not able to go out, he passed the greater part of the time in his library', busily occupied in writing and arranging his papers and affairs. From the rapid and accurate manner in which he prepared for the future, one would have supposed that he anticipated a very speedy termination of his life, and yet his conversation did not show that to be the case. He spoke of many years to come, and laid out long plans for after life: but yet, when forced to stay at home, he busied himself with everything that could imply the speedy approach of death.

When the weather was fine, his occupations were very different. He would saunter slowly out for hours, sometimes accompanied by Father Ferdinand, but more frequently alone; and indeed, as I have before said, he did not seem to covet any society. At night he sat with Laura and myself till we separated for the evening; and I never, even when first I knew him, beheld him so bright, so cheerful, as he appeared on these occasions, during nearly ten days after his wound was healed.

At length one night he expressed his determination of going to BarÈge, as soon as the season permitted; and laid out a plan by which I might accompany him and Laura thither, even if an early commencement of the campaign prevented me from remaining with them all the time of their stay. The whole arrangement seemed to please him, and he retired to rest, in high spirits, at about ten o'clock. The next morning he came down sad and gloomy; and, after breakfast, ordered his hat and cloak to be brought in, scarcely interchanging a word with any one. A glance from Laura's eye made me offer to accompany him on his walk, but he replied decidedly, though in a kindly tone, "No, I thank you, my dear boy; I would rather be alone. It is a fine day, however, for the time of year, and you and Laura had better ride or walk out together." Thus saying, he left us; and about an hour afterwards Laura and myself--followed by Lise, and with Clement de la Marke hovering round us, like a scared lapwing, now hanging close to my side, now walking on at a great distance, and affecting, with boyish playfulness, not to intrude on the conversation of the lovers--set out to take advantage of the short sunshine of that season.

Had not the tone of Monsieur de Villardin been so very decided in regard to his wish for solitude, we might have endeavoured to meet him on his walk; but now we felt that it was necessary rather to choose some path which he was not likely to take. As Laura left it to me to determine, I proposed that we should go to the spot which had been our place of meeting when regret, and sorrow, and expectation of speedy separation, served sadly to allay the brief joy of being in each other's society for a time. We had not been there since the whole had been reversed; and as our fears for the future had then served to deaden the enjoyments of the present, the remembrances of the past now tended only to enhance, in the highest degree, all the delight of the moment, and the anticipation of bright joys in the time to come. Everything that we saw as we walked along recalled some idea of painful separations now to take place no more--of dreams constantly dispelled by the consciousness that they were but dreams--of happiness turned into misery, by the certainty that it must end--of wishes that had become pangs, from the expectation of their disappointment. But now the recollection of such things in the past added, as I have said, a zest to all the joy of our hearts; and it would be necessary to know, or rather to feel, how deeply two hearts can be attached to each other, before any one can conceive how bright--how glorious--how dream-like was the happiness that we then experienced!

Thus we wandered on from meadow to meadow, and from grove to grove, till at length the scene of our meetings, the tall gigantic trees, the soft green turf, the small rise in the ground, connected in my mind with so many various memories, presented themselves to our eyes, still beautiful and soft, though any leaves that lingered on the trees were withered, and the grey hue of approaching winter was over all the scene.

A few steps taken forward, however, showed me something lying in a heap, as it were, upon the very grave of the Count de Mesnil; and a sudden sinking of my heart took place, with feelings of apprehension that I could not well explain. The same sight had caught the eyes of Laura also; and, pointing forward, she exclaimed, "What is that?" As she did so, she paused for a single instant, but at that moment fear seemed to become prophetic in her bosom. Where we stood it was certainly impossible for her to discern even the form of a human being; but exclaiming, "Good God! it is my father!" she drew her arm from mine, and darted on with the speed of light.

I followed as quick as possible; but ere I overtook her, she reached the foot of the tree, and, with a shriek of horror, dropped down as if she had been shot. There was, indeed, sufficient cause: for there, stretched upon the very grave in which his hand and mine had laid his adversary, with his hat fallen off on one side, and his outstretched hand clasping a rosary, appeared the inanimate form of Monsieur de Villardin, with an immense quantity of blood which had flowed from his mouth and nostrils, deluging the turf on every side, and dabbling his mantle and his left arm, which was stretched upon the ground.

The great loss of blood, the position in which he had fallen, the rigidity of his form when I endeavoured to raise him, all showed me that he, who, for so many years, had been my friend, and more than my father--with whom I had gone through such scenes of interest--who had shown me such undeviating and disinterested affection,--was no more a being of this earth. I never felt mortality more bitterly; but on him all care was vain, and my attention--as well as that of Lise and the page--was directed towards his unhappy child, whose temporary loss of feeling and reflection was, perhaps, the best thing that could happen to her at the time. I bore her in my arms to one of the woodmen's cottages at about half a mile distance, sending the boy back with all speed to the chÂteau for aid and assistance.

All the inhabitants of the building were soon poured forth; the body of Monsieur de Villardin was removed to the castle; and the carriage having been procured, poor Laura was carried back to her own apartments, falling from one fainting fit into another, with intervals only sufficient to recall the horrible sight she had beheld, ere she was again lost in unconsciousness.