Before I could well collect my senses, I was seated beside Laura de Villardin in the carriage of the good old Count de Loris, with her young brother Clement looking playfully up in my face, which certainly must have expressed as much happiness as man could feel. On the other side appeared Madame de Villardin, with her uncle and her brother-in-law; and for a time a tumult of joyful feelings engrossed me entirely, as I looked round upon so many that I loved and esteemed, and found them all engaged in promoting my own dearest wishes. Another feeling, however, came to temper and to sadden; and I perceived that it was strong also in the bosom of every one, as, gazing upon one another, each saw a number of beloved objects, but each felt that there was one wanting who could never return.

Strange to say, where there was so much to be asked, and so much to be told, our drive passed absolutely in silence; and Madame de Villardin, when she once more entered the dwelling in which she had spent the days of her young pride and gaiety, drew down her veil and wept. At the foot of the staircase we passed Jacques Marlot, who bowed low and reverently; and when we reached the saloon, Madame de Villardin again embraced me, saying, "God's blessing be upon you, my son, for all that you have done for me and mine. I will now leave you for a time, and our reverend brother here will give you all the details of many things that I have not spirits either to tell you myself or to hear told by another. Come with me, Laura, my beloved child; and you, Clement, betake you to your book; for the tale that your uncle is about to tell had better, in your case, be reserved for after years."

I could well have let my curiosity sleep till I had enjoyed the society of my dear Laura for some time longer; but Madame de Villardin seemed to think that the information I was to receive had better be given at once, and, of course, I did not oppose her.

Left alone with Father Ferdinand and Monsieur de Loris, the good priest passed over his own history without explanation, and took up his story at the period when the bridge had given way beneath Monsieur and Madame de Villardin; and he gave me all the minute particulars of events, which I can here state but generally.

It had, luckily, so happened that a large mass of the woodwork had fallen at once beneath Madame de Villardin, and thus both broke her fall into the stream, and supported her as a sort of raft after she reached the water. She had called loudly for assistance; but, hurried rapidly round the point of land just below the bridge, her voice had not reached me as I swam, till after I had dragged out Monsieur de Villardin. The single cry which I did hear had, however, caught the ears of Jacques Marlot, who was at that moment returning from the farm of the good Ursulines; and, running down to the shore, which was there less steep, he easily dragged Madame de Villardin, and the wood-work to which she was still clinging, to land. The house which he inhabited was close at hand, and thither he himself carried the lady, without waiting for other assistance. Madame de Villardin was quite sensible of everything around her when she arrived at his dwelling; but she had become deeply impressed with the idea that Monsieur de Villardin intended to destroy her and the child she carried in her bosom, and, acknowledging this apprehension in the terror of the moment, she besought Jacques Marlot and his wife to conceal her from pursuit. He on his part having been well accustomed, as libel-printer-general to the Fronde, to concealments of all kinds, instantly locked the door, in which state I afterwards found it, and took those measures which effectually prevented us from discovering the existence of Madame de Villardin, making his wife feign herself ill, to exclude all visiters from the house. Father Ferdinand, however, in whom Madame de Villardin had the fullest confidence, was made acquainted with the facts, under the strictest promise of secrecy; and, finding that the unhappy lady could never again look upon her husband without terror, he it was that advised her to seek a permanent resting-place in the Ursuline convent, of which she had been so munificent a benefactor.

There can be little doubt, however, that one more person became accidentally acquainted with the fate of Madame de Villardin; but she kept the secret far more nobly than might have been anticipated. That person was Suzette, who, after being dismissed from Dumont, lodged at St. Estienne, in the house of the very woman who attended Madame de Villardin in the premature birth of her son. The woman had been chosen from that village as a place in which Madame de Villardin never had been, and her name and station were carefully concealed from her; but still the whole arrangements had excited her surprise, and from the hints which Suzette had twice let fall in my presence, I could not doubt that she had gained sufficient information from her hostess, to feel sure of the existence of her former mistress. Our long absence from Dumont had given every opportunity of concluding all the subsequent arrangements without a chance of discovery. Madame de Villardin broke the last tie by leaving her child in the hands of Jacques Marlot at Juvigny, and retired from the world. The proximity of the convent, however, gave her frequent opportunities of seeing both her children without being known to them, and she gradually became quite reconciled to her situation. The great difficulty was in regard to the education of little Clement; but that was removed by my offer to take him as my page. The knowledge that he was near his father--and still more the tidings which she soon received that her husband was displaying towards his unknown child all the fondness of a parent--acted as balm to the wounded heart of Madame de Villardin; but still she could not banish the idea that, if the Duke ever became acquainted with the child's birth, he would seek its destruction: and nothing that Father Ferdinand could say, to show her his brother's deep grief and repentance for what had already occurred, served to relieve her mind in this respect. Nor, indeed, could one wonder that such were her feelings, after all the terrible proofs she had received of how far her husband's unjust suspicions might carry him. All that Father Ferdinand could obtain from her, was a permission to reveal to the Duke the facts, if ever he should see him on his death-bed; but her apprehensions still made her require that the tidings should not be given till there was no remaining chance of recovery.

Such is a general outline of the explanations given to me by Father Ferdinand in regard to the preservation of Madame de Villardin; but I was still anxious to hear more, and I asked him if Laura herself had been aware of her mother's existence.

"Certainly not," replied he; "she could not even have a suspicion of it till after that unhappy business of the Count de Laval; and here, my son," he added, "my own conduct requires some explanation. I had long seen your growing attachment to our dear Laura, and had spoken to Madame de Villardin upon the subject, consulting her as to the necessity of informing my brother of the evident result which would take place. From what we both knew of the natural generosity of his heart, we felt sure that he would not object to an union, which, from our own regard towards you, we both desired; and it was therefore determined to let things take their course. When I found from little Clement the state of deep despondency into which you had fallen, now two years ago, and the rash acts to which that despondency led you, I began to suspect that you had become aware of your own feelings towards my niece, and looked upon them as hopeless. I therefore determined to give you some hope and encouragement, especially as I knew that Laura was not destined to become that wealthy heiress which you might suppose.

"Suddenly, however, my brother told me of his engagements with the Count; and well aware of his rigid adherence to his word, I began to fear that your passion was without hope indeed. After you were gone from the chÂteau, and the Count had arrived, poor Laura confided to me her misery; and told me that she would rather at once take the veil than wed another than yourself. As I knew her father would not himself even display a thought of drawing back from his promise, I advised her to see the Count himself, and to tell him the true state of her feelings; and then--as I had reason to believe that the Count's passion was more for the heiress than the woman--I told Laura, that a great probability existed of her father's estates passing to another; and though I desired her to ask no farther, I believe that, from the terms in which I spoke, some suspicion of the truth crossed her mind. I bade her, as a last resource, give a hint of such a result to the Count himself, if her other representations did not move him; and then to refer him to me. She did not rest satisfied with the first, however; but after having told him plainly that she could not love him, as she loved another, she used her last resource also; although she acknowledges that he seemed much moved by her first representation. I am sorry that she did so, for now it is not very possible to tell by what motives the Count was actuated; and I would fain have given him an opportunity of doing honour to his own heart. However, he spoke with me afterwards; and, knowing him to be a man upon whose promised secrecy I could fully rely, I told him boldly that there was not only a chance, but a certainty--as far as earthly things ever can be certain--of the estates of Monsieur de Villardin passing away from Laura. He asked an explanation; and, seeing that it might save our dear girl from misery, I told him that, if I could obtain permission, I would satisfy him of the fact. He agreed to wait four days for my communication, promising that, if I proved my statement, he would voluntarily withdraw his claim. In consequence of this arrangement, T immediately wrote to Madame de Villardin; and showing her that her child's happiness was at stake, demanded her leave to make the Count acquainted with so much of her story as was necessary to prove to him that Laura would never possess the estates which he expected to receive with her. She immediately consented, and the result you know. As a matter of course, all the facts of Madame de Villardin's history were communicated by myself and Monsieur de Loris to the King some time ago; and as her presence was necessary to establish the rights of her son to his father's honours and estates, his Majesty gave the necessary commands for removing all impediments which conventual rules might oppose to her visiting the Court. Both the young King himself and his mother took the greatest interest in the fate of all concerned; and as, by your letters, we received intelligence of your situation, and your restoration to health, his Majesty declared that as soon as your exchange could be effected, he would only subject you to one more trial ere he gave you your fair bride. All opposition on the part of his Eminence of Mazarine was withdrawn, as soon as he found that two-thirds of Laura's estates were diverted to her brother; and yesterday morning, early, a summons to attend the King and Queen gave us also the joyful news of your return. The parts that we were all to play were laid down by the King himself; and our poor cousin, who had come up some months ago to claim the guardianship of the young heiress, was brought in also, still in perfect ignorance of all the facts. I now need tell you no more; and if a light step I heard but now be a true signal, I think you will find some one in that next boudoir, who, though scarcely more happy to see you than myself, is a fitter companion for a young soldier than an old priest can be."

As I, too, heard Laura's step, I asked no more questions at that time; but, joining her that I loved, spent an hour or two of as happiness as ever fell to the share of mortal man. But a short space now intervened ere we were united for ever; and although all that we had gone through rendered me constantly apprehensive of some new disappointment until Laura was at length clasped to my heart, my own beloved wife, yet, since our fate has been placed beyond all farther doubt, I am inclined to believe that the dangers, and the difficulties, and even the sorrows, of our early years, contribute greatly to our present happiness.

We have a store of thoughts and remembrances in the past, which forms for us a world separated from the rest of the world: many things endured for the sake of each other, mingle, I may say, a feeling of mutual gratitude with mutual affection: the deep impression of extraordinary events keeps the first fresh feelings of the passion that was born amongst them in all its original fire, although years have passed since our fate was united. Even t s memory of the beloved dead forms an tie between our hearts which can never be weakened; and when I look into my Laura's eyes, I see the same love beaming in them as my wife, which lighted them in infancy and girlhood, only augmented with a thousand sweeter and brighter beams, by every stage through which our affection has passed.

My tale is now concluded up to this hour; and so contented am I with my present state, that I trust to have nothing more which could prove of interest to any one to add to these pages, till time lays me in the grave. Almost all whom I have mentioned are still living; and though Madame de Villardin has again sought the quiet seclusion of the cloister, we frequently enjoy her society as far as her situation will permit. Father Ferdinand has often promised to give me a sketch of his early history; but it would seem that there are in it points so painful, as even to have defied the softening power of time, and to remain too acute to bear recapitulation. Clement de Villardin has become the gallant soldier, whose name is known to every one both in England and France; and I have laid by the sword which so early came into my hands, hoping that fate has exhausted her store, and that no more changes, either of station or of character, may yet be reserved for John Marston Hall.

FOOTNOTES

Footnote 1: The above chapters are omitted by the editor of this work, inasmuch as every fact contained in them is to be found much more fully detailed in the "Memoirs of Henry Masterton, Lord Masterton;" and it may be only necessary to add, for the information of such persons as are unfortunate enough not to have read that work, that Lord Masterton was accompanied through all the adventures therein described by John Marston Hall, the writer of the present book. Farther, it may not be impertinent to observe, that, as Lord Masterton himself states, the subject of the present memoirs was of infinite service and assistance to his noble friend in the difficulties and dangers which he had to encounter; and we have every reason to believe, that had it not been for the promptitude and assistance of "Little Ball-o'-Fire," as he is generally called in that work, the history of the noble lord would not have been brought to so happy a conclusion. In the chapters here omitted, the writer details all the scenes that took place in England, and all those that followed in France, up to the period when his Lord Masterton was happily wedded to the Lady Emily Langleigh, and took up his abode with her father at the beautiful little chÂteau of St. Maur. At that point we shall again commence the adventures of John Marston Hall, as written by himself, and proceed, even to their conclusion, with no other alteration whatever, than a slight modification of the orthography, which does not particularly well suit the fashion of the present day, and the occasional translation of various passages originally written in the French tongue.]

Footnote 2: The Cardinal de Retz mentions in his Memoirs, that two criminals were rescued, and seems to imply that they were saved from the gallows together. Joly, whose work forms a running commentary upon that of De Retz, shows that the Cardinal spoke of Jacques Marlot, the printer, as one of these culprits, and mentions his crime,--though the punishment of death for writing, or rather for printing, a libel, may seem a little severe. It must be acknowledged, indeed, that "La Custode," a copy of which exists in the British Museum, is a most dirty and scurrilous attack upon the Queen; but still the tyranny of the whole proceeding against this unhappy man seemed to justify the hatred which the people conceived, about this time, towards the great body of Parisian lawyers.]

Footnote 3: In explanation of this expression of the worthy autobiographer, it may be necessary to remind the reader, that numbers of persons were, about that time, kidnapped and sold as slaves in the various American colonies.]

THE END.

T. C. Savill, Printer, 4, Chandos-street, Covet-garden.