Never, perhaps, had turbulence and disorder worked its own cure more completely than in Paris. The general ruin which had overtaken every sort of art and trade, had disgusted all those classes, which in times of tranquillity are so potent to do good, and in times of disturbance are so potent to do evil; and they who had been the foremost in supporting faction, were now the loudest in their outcry for general submission. Unhappily, nations almost always pass from one extreme to the other; and now yielding too much to the royal authority, where they had before conceded too little, the parliament again verified every edict of the crown, and the people only murmured that the Parliament pretended to deliberate in obeying the will of the King. In one word, the faction of the Fronde was at an end, and though a general indemnity was granted to all who submitted within fifteen days, yet the rebel leaders were banished from the capital, and the Cardinal de Retz, the chief mover of every tumult and every intrigue, was arrested in the ante-chamber of the Queen, and confined in the castle of Vincennes.

The greater part of these scenes, however, passed after I had quitted Paris; for, two days subsequent to the return of the Court to the capital, I once more followed Monsieur de Villardin to the camp. Turenne soon again joined the army, but his forces were now placed upon a different footing from that on which they had hitherto stood. New regiments joined us each day, those that were already collected were speedily recruited, and in taking the field to force the Prince de CondÉ to evacuate France, Turenne found himself at the head of a superior, rather than an inferior force.

Through the whole of the events that succeeded I continued to serve in the regiment of Monsieur de Villardin, but nothing of any interest occurred in my private history till the end of the campaign, when, after the capture of Bar le Duc, ChÂteau Porcien, and Vervins, Turenne dispersed his army in winter quarters, and returned to Paris with the greater part of his officers.

Monsieur de Villardin now at once took up his abode in his hotel in the capital, which had escaped all the outrages that had occurred, although not a few of the best houses in the town had been pillaged at one time or another during the civil wars. His intention was to remain for two or three weeks in Paris, and then proceed to Dumont, to which place, as I before said, Mademoiselle de Villardin and Father Ferdinand had been sent after the burning of the chÂteau of Virmont. Ere we had been in the capital three days, however, a messenger arrived from Brittany, bearing the sad tidings that Laura had been attacked by a violent fever, which left but little hope of her life. We were preparing to go out in the evening when Monsieur de Villardin received the letter communicating this bitter intelligence, and clasping his hands together with agitation he could not master, he exclaimed, "She will die! Of course, she will die! It is a part of my punishment!"

I tried to raise his hopes, but in vain; and as the next best thing was to force him into activity, I proposed that we should instantly set out for Dumont. He caught eagerly at the idea, and as we could not depart without permission, which was not to be obtained till the next morning, a servant was despatched as an avant-courier, both to order relays of horses to be ready at certain hours upon the road, and give notice of our coming at the chÂteau.

As soon as the royal leave was obtained the next morning, we mounted our horses and began our journey. No time was lost upon the road, and in a very short space, considering the distance, we arrived at the spot which had been the scene of so many painful events. It was lucky, perhaps, that Monsieur de Villardin had other matter of deep interest to occupy his mind, and call it from all the associations with which the place was connected; yet, though eagerness to hear whether his child was yet in life was certainly predominant, I could see plainly that his whole frame was shaken, and his very soul moved as we rode through the park to the chÂteau.

The sound of our horses' feet had brought Father Ferdinand to the terrace; and there was a bland smile upon his lip, which told us at once that he had good tidings in store for our welcome.

"She is better, my brother; she is better," he said, taking Monsieur de Villardin's hand as he dismounted. "I trust that all danger is over."

"Thank God!" cried the Duke, and without staying to ask more, he strode on towards his daughter's apartments. I looked after him with no small feelings of interest, and, to tell the truth, I would fain have accompanied him to see the dear little girl who had twined herself round my heart by so many strange ties. As I gazed, however, towards the great staircase, down which from a high window the sun was shining so strongly as almost to dazzle my eyes, I suddenly thought I saw a beautiful boy of four or five years of age cross the end of the staircase and disappear in the passages beyond.

Father Ferdinand was standing beside me, asking me a number of kindly questions concerning myself and Monsieur de Villardin, and I turned to him with some surprise as the boy passed across; but he seemed to have seen nothing; and, doubting my senses, I answered his questions without taking any farther notice, quite sure that if such a being as I fancied I had beheld was in the chÂteau, I should soon see him again. I had many a question to ask in return; and he repaid the account I gave of all my adventures, by a fuller detail of what had occurred at Virmont than I had yet received, and by a sketch of the quiet life he had been passing at Dumont with his young charge, of whom he spoke in terms of the most unmingled affection and tenderness.

In about an hour the good priest was called to Monsieur de Villardin; and, although I was somewhat fatigued, I proceeded to visit all my old haunts about the house, with feelings which, I suppose, every one must have experienced on returning, after a long absence, to scenes in which events of deep and lasting interest had taken place. Everything, however, was exactly as I had left it; the very furniture seemed standing in the same places; and, as I went from room to room, nothing would have told me that I had been absent more than five days, instead of five years, from Dumont, except the many changes in my own bosom, which formed a strange contrast with the unaltered situation of everything around me.

As almost all the old servants had accompanied us to Virmont, it was not so long since I had seen them; but I was glad to find that even the time I had been absent had only served to make them welcome my return with the greater pleasure, and, from the kind and yet respectful manner in which they crowded round me, and inquired after my health and happiness, I could almost have fancied myself the young heir returning to his father's house, after some long and perilous expedition. My old friend, Jerome, seemed particularly delighted, and related, with tears in his eyes, how all the household had been affected when they heard that I had been killed on the terrace at Virmont.

In reply to my questions concerning his nephew, he informed me, with joy and pride, that good Jacques Marlot had fully justified me in saving him from the gallows, and had made a happy transition from the state of an indifferent printer to that of a steady, wealthy, respectable farmer. He would be delighted to see me, he added, and to show me all the thriving children with which the good-tempered brunette he had taken to his bosom had blessed his fireside since last I saw him. Promising to go down and pay him a visit the next day, I left the good old man, and returned to the library, intending to wait there for Monsieur de Villardin. I found him there, however, already; and, as he was in conversation with Father Ferdinand, I was immediately about to withdraw, when he beckoned me into the room, saying, with a smile, "A fair lady has been asking for you, De Juvigny, and will not be satisfied till you pay her a visit. Your playfellow has not forgotten you, I can assure you."

I expressed, of course, how delighted I should be to see her; and the Duke immediately led me up to Laura's apartments, where I found her stretched upon a sofa, a good deal changed, it is true, and pale and languid from the illness she had lately undergone. She was still, however, a lively, sweet girl of little more than twelve years old, and, with the same affectionate familiarity in which we had always lived, she put her arms round me whenever I approached, and kissed my cheek as I bent over her.

Monsieur de Villardin smiled. "You see, Laura," he said, "as I told you, he has grown a great man since you saw him, and you must now call him Monsieur le Baron de Juvigny."

"No, no," replied she, half angrily; "he shall never be anything but John Hall with me--the same John Hall who saved my life, and who saved your life, papa."

"He has saved it again, my dear child," replied Monsieur de Villardin, "and conferred many another benefit on me, besides."

"Thank you, thank you!" cried she, holding out her hand to me; "and pray always do be near papa, and take care of him; for you know I have no one else to love in the world but him, and you, and good Father Ferdinand, now that mamma is dead."

Monsieur de Villardin burst into tears, and quitted the apartment, while our good friend Lise, who had now become Mademoiselle de Villardin's chief attendant, chid her for mentioning her mother to Monsieur de Villardin, saying, "You know, Mademoiselle Laura, he is so grieved for her that it is painful for him even to hear her named."

"So am I grieved for her," replied Laura; "yet I always love to think of her, and hope that I shall never forget her."

After speaking a few words of greeting to Lise, and a few more to Mademoiselle de Villardin, seeing that she was far too weak to bear much conversation, I left her, and, retiring to my own apartments, lay down to rest.

The next morning early I set out to visit good Jacques Marlot, taking the intendant's house by the way, as I had full three years' arrears of rents to receive from him, and it had become necessary for me to put my own little establishment upon rather a better footing than it had been during the war. One of the soldiers of Monsieur de Villardin's regiment had served me for both groom and valet-de-chambre; and, as I now looked upon myself as a very wealthy and prosperous personage, I had resolved that my horses at least should have the advantage of a personal attendant, though I required one but little myself.

I found the intendant quite ready to settle accounts with me, though, in his cool, shrewd manner, he cited a good many deductions, which were to be made from the gross sum that I had to receive. Some of which I suffered to pass, but some of which I contested successfully, and, by so doing, raised myself, I am convinced, several steps higher in the opinion of the intendant, who thought the acmÉ of human judgment and discretion consisted in the nice calculation of livres, parisis and tournois. From his dwelling I proceeded immediately to my own house of Juvigny, which I found so much improved under the care and taste of good Jacques Marlot, that I could not help blessing my stars for having sent me such a tenant, although he paid no rent for the dwelling. I soon after found, however, that in addition to the farm of the good Ursulines, which he continued to manage with great care, he rented from his wife's uncle, the intendant, my farm of Juvigny also, which was prospering in a remarkable degree; and, in fact, the affairs of good Jacques Marlot seemed to have taken a turn at the gallows' foot, and to have gone on in constant success ever since.

The servant who had been sent on to Dumont before Monsieur de Villardin and myself, had, amongst other pieces of news, communicated to the whole household my new dignity as Baron de Juvigny, and, as soon as Jacques Marlot beheld me, he made me a lowly reverence, in compliment to my new dignity, though with the solemnity which pervaded his salutation there was mixed a certain touch of droll humour, which showed that he had not quite forgot the John Marston Hall whom he had formerly known. Laughing at the Monseigneur with which he addressed me, I told him to wait a few years, and, if my fortunes went on as prosperously as they had begun, he should have cause to give me that epithet. After the first salutations, he led me into his dwelling, and I found Madame Marlot settled down completely into a pretty bustling farmer's wife, skilled in poultry and butter, and all the particulars appertaining to her calling, while three rosy children, in gradual ascent from the infant in arms to the red-cheeked riotous boy, afforded sufficient employment to all her leisure time.

This seemed the extent of her family; but before I had been ten minutes in the house, I heard a step running across the room above, and, the moment after, the same beautiful boy, of whom I had caught a momentary glance at the chÂteau, burst into the room, and stood gazing at me with some surprise.

"What! another! Mon cher philosophe," I cried; "what, four since I left you?"

"No, no," replied Jacques Marlot, laughing, "that is no son of mine, though he could not be a better boy if he were. He is the child of a poor gentleman who was killed in the late wars, and whom we have to take care of."

There was something in the poor boy's fate so similar to my own, that, though Jacques Marlot did not enter into further details at that time, I could not but feel interested in him; and, perhaps--for there are, I believe, few people on whom personal appearance has no effect--I might be somewhat influenced, too, by his fine countenance and noble mien, which were extraordinary in a child of his age. Calling him to me, I set him on my knee, and was soon high in his good graces. He admired the tassels of my cloak, played with the hilt of my sword, and was speedily in a full career of questions, which, with childish rapidity, he scarcely waited to hear answered. I found afterwards from Jacques Marlot that both his father and mother were dead, and that he had none but some very distant relations living in one of the far provinces of France. Everything I saw and everything I heard of him increased the interest I felt, more and more; and at length, remarking that he had acquired a strong Breton accent, I asked the ci-devant printer how he, who knew better, could suffer the child to speak such a patois, adding, "You had better give him to me, and let me make him my page."

"Are you serious?" demanded Jacques Marlot: "if you are, I dare say the matter might easily be managed; but, of course, I must have the consent of his friends."

Although I had no idea, at the time that I did make the proposal, that there was any chance of its being accepted, and although the boy was in reality too young to be of any service to me as a page, yet, the having once said it, together, perhaps, with a slight touch of romance in my own disposition, and a real interest in the poor boy's situation, made me adhere to my offer; and, after saying that I was serious, I asked who the boy's friends were, and what was their real station in life.

"Oh! as to his rank," replied Jacques Marlot, "he is of as noble blood as any in the land, though poor enough, I believe; but, however, as it was Father Ferdinand, the good confessor at the chÂteau, who put him under my care, I must, of course, speak with him before I can consent to anything."

Whenever he mentioned the name of Father Ferdinand, it struck me that there was a likeness between the boy and the priest, which might have made me suspect some nearer relationship between them than a vow of celibacy would well have admitted, had not the character of Father Ferdinand been of that pure and simple cast, severe upon himself, yet lenient to others, which set all suspicion at defiance.

"I will speak with the good father myself," I said: "what is your name, my boy?"

"Clement de la Marke," he replied.

"And will you go and be my page?" I asked.

"Yes, that I will," he answered, "if you will let me come and see maÎtre Jacques and the ladies of St. Ursula, whom he takes me to visit."

"Ay, and who kiss you and give you sweetmeats, too, Clement," added the good farmer. "You see, he knows how to make conditions already, Monsieur le Baron."

"He is very right," replied I, rising to depart: "but, however, I will speak with Father Ferdinand, and if he consent, he shall come up and be my page at the chÂteau."

"Oh! I shall be so glad of that," cried the boy; "for then I shall see Mademoiselle Laura every day, and they told me yesterday that I should not see her again for a long time."

I took upon me to promise that, in this desire at least, he should be gratified, and, mounting my horse, after some further conversation with maÎtre Jacques, I rode back fully resolved to speak with Father Ferdinand upon the subject of the boy; and, if he consented on his part, and Monsieur de Villardin had no objection, to take little Clement, and breed him up for a soldier, as I had been bred up myself. However, as I rode on, my romance cooled a little. I recollected that I had seen the child but twice, and that the good father might well accuse me of boyish romance, and treat my request as the offspring of a mere idle whim; and, feeling somewhat ashamed to speak to him upon the subject, I let the day pass without doing so. The next morning, accusing myself of irresolution, I descended early, intending to make the proposal. On going to the confessor's apartments, however, I found that he was out, and when he returned, about an hour afterwards, he came himself to seek me. He then told me that, on going down to the convent, on the other side of the water, he had met Jacques Marlot, who had informed him of my offer.

"I will take two days, my son," he said, "to consider of what you propose; but you must fully understand the boy's situation before you take upon yourself what I conceive to be a heavy responsibility. You must remember that his family is noble, and I must also tell you, that, though he does not possess at present above three thousand livres a year, to pay all his expenses, yet on the death of some distant relations, there is a probability of his succeeding to a very large estate. His education, therefore, must fit him for a change of station, while it may be as well not to let him know that such an event is even possible."

"In regard to his education, my good father," I replied, "all I can give him, I am afraid, will be a military one; but, as I trust that you and I will never again be separated so long as we have lately been, you must take upon you to supply all that which I am incompetent to afford."

"Willingly, willingly," replied Father Ferdinand; "and I think, upon those conditions, there can be no other difficulty; yet, still, I should like to consider of the matter for at least two days; and, in the meanwhile, you can ask Monsieur de Villardin's approbation of these arrangements."

"Oh, I am sure he will consent," replied I, "if you, on your part, have power to consent for young Clement de la Marke, which I suppose you have," I added, with a smile, "for he is so like you, that there must be some relationship."

"It is very extraordinary," replied Father Ferdinand, "but there certainly is a likeness strong enough to be visible to my own eyes; and yet he has nearer relations than myself living, to whom his resemblance is not so great."

Two days after this conversation, I informed Father Ferdinand that Monsieur de Villardin had consented to my making any arrangement of the kind that I liked. He, on his part, signified his full approbation, and, on the subsequent evening, little Clement de la Marke was removed to the chÂteau. So engaging were his manners, and so amiable his disposition, that though Monsieur de Villardin smiled at the diminutive size of my page, I myself remained very well satisfied with the transaction; and, fortunately, soon after I procured a burly Breton as a groom, who made up in size for all that little Clement wanted.