Murad the Unlucky, and Other Tales Part 13

CHAPTER XV

"But beauty, like the fair Hesperian tree, Laden with blooming gold, had need the guard Of dragon watch with unenchanted eye To save her blossoms, or defend her fruit."--MILTON.

The trial was nearer than either Manon or Victoire expected. Manon had scarcely p.r.o.nounced the last words when the ci-devant hairdresser burst into the room, accompanied by several of his political a.s.sociates, who met to consult measures for the good of the nation. Among these patriots was the Abbe Traca.s.sier.

"Who is that pretty girl who is with you, Manon?" whispered he; "a friend of yours, I hope?"

Victoire left the room immediately, but not before the profligate abbe had seen enough to make him wish to see more. The next day he went to Madame Feuillot's under pretence of buying some embroidered handkerchiefs; he paid Victoire a profusion of extravagant compliments, which made no impression upon her innocent heart, and which appeared ridiculous to her plain good sense. She did not know who he was, nor did Madame Feuillot; for though she had often heard of the abbe, yet she had never seen him. Several succeeding days he returned, and addressed himself to Victoire, each time with increasing freedom. Madame Feuillot, who had the greatest confidence in her, left her entirely to her own discretion. Victoire begged her friend Annette to do the business of the shop, and stayed at work in the back parlour. Traca.s.sier was much disappointed by her absence; but as he thought no great ceremony necessary in his proceedings, he made his name known in a haughty manner to Madame de Feuillot, and desired that he might be admitted into the back parlour, as he had something of consequence to say to Mademoiselle Victoire in private. Our readers will not require to have a detailed account of this _tete-a-tete_; it is sufficient to say that the disappointed and exasperated abbe left the house muttering imprecations.

The next morning a note came to Victoire apparently from Manon: it was directed by her, but the inside was written by an unknown hand, and continued these words:--

"You are a charming, but incomprehensible girl--since you do not like compliments, you shall not be addressed with empty flattery. It is in the power of the person who dictates this, not only to make you as rich and great as your cousin Manon, but also to restore to fortune and to their country the friends for whom, you are most interested. Their fate as well as your own is in your power: if you send a favourable answer to this note, the persons alluded to will, to-morrow, be struck from the list of emigrants, and reinstated in their former possessions. If your answer is decidedly unfavourable, the return of your friends to France will be thenceforward impracticable, and their chateau, as well as their house in Paris, will be declared national property, and sold without delay to the highest bidder. To you, who have as much understanding as beauty, it is unnecessary to say more. Consult your heart, charming Victoire! be happy, and make others happy. This moment is decisive of your fate and of theirs, for you have to answer a man of a most decided character."

Victoire's answer was as follows:--

"My friends would not, I am sure, accept of their fortune, or consent to return to their country, upon the conditions proposed; therefore I have no merit in rejecting them."

Victoire had early acquired good principles, and that plain steady good sense, which goes straight to its object, without being dazzled or imposed upon by sophistry. She was unacquainted with the refinements of sentiment, but she distinctly knew right from wrong, and had sufficient resolution to abide by the right. Perhaps many romantic heroines might have thought it a generous self-devotion to have become in similar circ.u.mstances the mistress of Traca.s.sier; and those who are skilled "to make the worst appear the better cause" might have made such an act of heroism the foundation of an interesting, or at least a fas.h.i.+onable novel. Poor Victoire had not received an education sufficiently refined to enable her to understand these mysteries of sentiment. She was even simple enough to flatter herself that this libertine patriot would not fulfil his threats, and that these had been made only with a view to terrify her into compliance. In this opinion, however, she found herself mistaken. M. Traca.s.sier was indeed a man of the most decided character, if this form may properly be applied to those who act uniformly in consequence of their ruling pa.s.sion. The Chateau de Fleury was seized as national property. Victoire heard this bad news from the old steward, who was turned out of the castle, along with his son, the very day after her rejection of the proposed conditions.

"I could not have believed that any human creature could be so wicked!"

exclaimed Victoire, glowing with indignation: but indignation gave way to sorrow.

"And the Chateau de Fleury is really seized?--and you, good old man, are turned out of the place where you were born?--and you too, Basile?--and Madame de Fleury will never come back again!--and perhaps she may be put into prison in a foreign country, and may die for want--and I might have prevented all this!"

Unable to shed a tear, Victoire stood in silent consternation, whilst Annette explained to the good steward and his son the whole transaction.

Basile, who was naturally of an impetuous temper, was so transported with indignation, that he would have gone instantly with the note from Traca.s.sier to denounce him before the whole National Convention, if he had not been restrained by his more prudent father. The old steward represented to him, that as the note was neither signed nor written by the hand of Traca.s.sier, no proof could be brought home to him, and the attempt to convict one of so powerful a party would only bring certain destruction upon the accusers. Besides, such was at this time the general depravity of manners, that numbers would keep the guilty in countenance. There was no crime which the mask of patriotism could not cover. "There is one comfort we have in our misfortunes, which these men can never have," said the old man; "when their downfall comes, and come it will most certainly, they will not feel as we do, INNOCENT. Victoire, look up! and do not give way to despair--all will yet be well."

"At all events, you have done what is right--so do not reproach yourself," said Basile. "Everybody--I mean everybody who is good for anything--must respect, admire, and love you, Victoire."

CHAPTER XVI

"Ne mal cio che v'annoja, Quello e vero gioire Che nasce da virtude dopo il soffrire."

Basile had not seen without emotion the various instances of goodness which Victoire showed during the illness of Sister Frances. Her conduct towards M. Traca.s.sier increased his esteem and attachment; but he forbore to declare his affection, because he could not, consistently with prudence, or with grat.i.tude to his father, think of marrying, now that he was not able to maintain a wife and family. The honest earnings of many years of service had been wrested from the old steward at the time the Chateau de Fleury was seized, and he now depended on the industry of his son for the daily support of his age. His dependence was just, and not likely to be disappointed; for he had given his son an education suitable to his condition in life. Basile was an exact arithmetician, could write an excellent hand, and was a ready draughtsman and surveyor. To bring these useful talents into action, and to find employment for them with men by whom they would be honestly rewarded, was the only difficulty--a difficulty which Victoire's brother Maurice soon removed. His reputation as a smith had introduced him, among his many customers, to a gentleman of worth and scientific knowledge, who was at this time employed to make models and plans of all the fortified places in Europe; he was in want of a good clerk and draughtsman, of whose integrity he could be secure.

Maurice mentioned his friend Basile; and upon inquiry into his character, and upon trial of his abilities, he was found suited to the place, and was accepted. By his well-earned salary he supported himself and his father; and began, with the sanguine hopes of a young man, to flatter himself that he should soon be rich enough to marry, and that then he might declare his attachment to Victoire. Notwithstanding all his boasted prudence, he had betrayed sufficient symptoms of his pa.s.sion to have rendered a declaration unnecessary to any clear-sighted observer: but Victoire was not thinking of conquests; she was wholly occupied with a scheme of earning a certain sum of money for her benefactress, who was now, as she feared, in want. All Madame de Fleury's former pupils contributed their share to the common stock; and the mantua-maker, the confectioner, the servants of different sorts, who had been educated at her school, had laid by, during the years of her banishment, an annual portion of their wages and savings: with the sum which Victoire now added to the fund, it amounted to ten thousand livres. The person who undertook to carry this money to Madame de Fleury, was Francois, her former footman, who had procured a pa.s.s to go to England as a hairdresser. The night before he set out was a happy night for Victoire, as all her companions met, by Madame Feuillot's invitation, at her house; and after tea they had the pleasure of packing up the little box, in which each, besides the money, sent some token their grat.i.tude, and some proof of their ingenuity. They would with all their hearts have sent twice as many _souvenirs_ as Francois could carry.

"D'abord c'est impossible!" cried he, when he saw the box that was prepared for him to carry to England: but his good nature was unable to resist the entreaties of each to have her offering carried, "which would take up no room."

He departed--arrived safe in England--found out Madame de Fleury, who was in real distress, in obscure lodgings at Richmond. He delivered the money, and all the presents of which he had taken charge: but the person to whom she entrusted a letter, in answer to Victoire, was not so punctual, or was more unlucky: for the letter never reached her, and she and her companions were long uncertain whether their little treasure had been received. They still continued, however, with indefatigable grat.i.tude, to lay by a portion of their earnings for their benefactress; and the pleasure they had in this perseverance made them more than amends for the loss of some little amus.e.m.e.nts, and for privations to which they submitted in consequence of their resolution.

In the meantime, Basile, going on steadily with his employments, advanced every day in the favour of his master, and his salary was increased in proportion to his abilities and industry; so that he thought he could now, without any imprudence, marry. He consulted his father, who approved of his choice; he consulted Maurice as to the probability of his being accepted by Victoire; and encouraged by both his father and his friend, he was upon the eve of addressing himself to Victoire, when he was prevented by a new and unforeseen misfortune. His father was taken up, by an emissary of Traca.s.sier's, and brought before one of their revolutionary committees, where he was accused of various acts of _incivisme_. Among other things equally criminal, it was proved that one Sunday, when he went to see Le Pet.i.t Trianon, then a public-house, he exclaimed, "C'est ici que le canaille danse, et que les honnetes gens pleurent!"

Basile was present at this mock examination of his father--he saw him on the point of being dragged to prison--when a hint was given that he might save his father by enlisting immediately, and going with the army out of France. Victoire was full in Basile's recollection; but there was no other means of saving his father. He enlisted, and in twenty-four hours left Paris.

What appear to be the most unfortunate circ.u.mstances of life often prove ultimately the most advantageous--indeed, those who have knowledge, activity, and integrity, can convert the apparent blanks in the lottery of fortune into prizes. Basile was recommended to his commanding officer by the gentleman who had lately employed him as a clerk; his skill in drawing plans, and in taking rapid surveys of the country through which they pa.s.sed, was extremely useful to his general, and his integrity made it safe to trust him as a secretary. His commanding officer, though a brave man, was illiterate, and a secretary was to him a necessary of life. Basile was not only useful, but agreeable; without any mean arts, or servile adulation, he pleased by simply showing the desire to oblige and the ability to serve.

"Diable!" exclaimed the general one day, as he looked at Basile's plan of a town which the army was besieging. "How comes it that you are able to do all these things? But you have a genius for this sort of work, apparently."

"No, sir," said Basile, "these things were taught to me when I was a child by a good friend."

"A good friend he was, indeed! he did more for you than if he had given you a fortune; for, in these times, that might have been soon taken from you; but now you have the means of making a fortune for yourself."

This observation of the general's, obvious as it may seem, is deserving of the serious consideration of those who have children of their own to educate, or who have the disposal of money for public charities. In these times no sensible person will venture to p.r.o.nounce that a change of fortune and station may not await the highest and the lowest; whether we rise or fall in the scale of society, personal qualities and knowledge will be valuable. Those who fall cannot be dest.i.tute, and those who rise cannot be ridiculous or contemptible, if they have been prepared for their fortune by proper education. In s.h.i.+pwreck those who carry their all in their minds are the most secure.

But to return to Basile. He had sense enough not to make his general jealous of him by any unseasonable display of his talents, or any officious intrusion of advice, even upon subjects which he best understood.

The talents of the warrior and the secretary were in such different lines, that there was no danger of compet.i.tion; and the general, finding in his secretary the soul of all the arts, good sense, gradually acquired the habit of asking his opinion on every subject that came within his department. It happened that the general received orders from the Directory at Paris to take a certain town, let it cost what it would, within a given time: in his perplexity he exclaimed before Basile against the unreasonableness of these orders, and declared his belief that it was impossible he should succeed, and that this was only a scheme of his enemies to prepare his ruin. Basile had attended to the operations of the engineer who acted under the general, and perfectly recollected the model of the mines of this town, which he had seen when he was employed as draughtsman by his Parisian friend. He remembered that there was formerly an old mine that had been stopped up somewhere near the place where the engineer was at work; he mentioned in private his suspicions to the general, who gave orders in consequence. The old mine was discovered, cleared out, and by these means the town was taken the day before the time appointed. Basile did not arrogate to himself any of the glory of this success; he kept his general's secret and his confidence.

Upon their return to Paris, after a fortunate campaign, the general was more grateful than some others have been, perhaps because more room was given by Basile's prudence for the exercise of this virtue.

"My friend," said he to Basile, "you have done me a great service by your counsel, and a greater still by holding your tongue. Speak now, and tell me freely if there is anything I can do for you. You see, as a victorious general, I have the upper hand amongst these fellows--Traca.s.sier's scheme to ruin me missed--whatever I ask will at this moment be granted; speak freely, therefore."

Basile asked what he knew Victoire most desired--that Monsieur and Madame de Fleury should be struck from the list of emigrants, and that their property now in the hands of the nation should be restored to them. The general promised that this should be done. A warm contest ensued upon the subject between him and Traca.s.sier, but the general stood firm; and Traca.s.sier, enraged, forgot his usual cunning, and quarrelling irrevocably with a party now more powerful than his own, he and his adherents were driven from that station in which they had so long tyrannised. From being the rulers of France, they in a few hours became banished men, or, in the phrase of the times, _des deportes_.

We must not omit to mention the wretched end of Manon. The man with whom she lived perished by the guillotine. From his splendid house she went upon the stage, did not succeed, sank from one degree of profligacy to another, and at last died in an hospital.

In the meantime, the order for the restoration of the Fleury property, and for permission for the Fleury family to return to France, was made out in due form, and Maurice begged to be the messenger of these good tidings--he set out for England with the order.

Victoire immediately went down to the Chateau de Fleury, to get everything in readiness for the reception of the family.

Exiles are expeditious in their return to their native country. Victoire had but just time to complete her preparations, when Monsieur and Madame de Fleury arrived at Calais. Victoire had a.s.sembled all her companions, all Madame de Fleury's former pupils; and the hour when she was expected home, they, with the peasants of the neighbourhood, were all in their holiday clothes, and, according to the custom of the country, singing and dancing. Without music and dancing there is no perfect joy in France.

Never was _fete du village_ or _fete du Seigneur_ more joyful than this.

The old steward opened the gate, the carriage drove in. Madame de Fleury saw that home which she had little expected evermore to behold, but all other thoughts were lost in the pleasure of meeting her beloved pupils.

"My children!" cried she, as they crowded round her the moment she got out of her carriage--"my dear, _good_ children!"

It was all she could say. She leaned on Victoire's arm as she went into the house, and by degrees recovering from the almost painful excess of pleasure, began to enjoy what she yet only confusedly felt.

Several of her pupils were so much grown and altered in their external appearance, that she could scarcely recollect them till they spoke, and then their voices and the expression of their countenances brought their childhood fully to her memory. Victoire, she thought, was changed the least, and at this she rejoiced.

The feeling and intelligent reader will imagine all the pleasure that Madame de Fleury enjoyed this day; nor was it merely the pleasure of a day. She heard from all her friends, with prolonged satisfaction, repeated accounts of the good conduct of these young people during her absence. She learned with delight how her restoration to her country and her fortune had been effected; and is it necessary to add, that Victoire consented to marry Basile, and that she was suitably portioned, and, what is better still, that she was perfectly happy? Monsieur de Fleury rewarded the attachment and good conduct of Maurice by taking him into his service, and making him his manager under the old steward at the Chateau de Fleury.

On Victoire's wedding-day Madame de Fleury produced all the little offerings of grat.i.tude which she had received from her and her companions during her exile. It was now her turn to confer favours, and she knew how to confer them both with grace and judgment.

"No grat.i.tude in human nature! No grat.i.tude in the lower cla.s.ses of the people!" cried she; "how much those are mistaken who think so! I wish they could know my history, and the history of these my children, and they would acknowledge their error."

FOOTNOTES

{1} "Whom the G.o.ds wish to destroy, they first deprive of understanding."