Joseph Wilmot, or, The memoirs of a man-servant

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sponsible for its return to the library from
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Latest Date stamped below

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" W 1 /

DEC f 9

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P^rouTS.r''''''---'-™''-/-'^';^

JOSEPH WILMOT:

OE, THE

MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT.

BY GEOEGE W. II. EETXOLDS,

ACTHOB or rus ttrst asd secoxd sekies op " the mtsteeies o? lotdos," " thb

MTSTBEIBS OF THE COCET OF LOKD05," - TKK SEAilSTBESS " IHB BliO>ZE STATCb" ' FiCST,"
"TBE 5ECaOM.A5CtB," '-THE llASrACEE OF GityCOS" • P(,FB JOAB," 'THE PIIT," '• BoBSET
MACAIBB," "MAEY PBICB," "IHB DATS OF HOGAEIH " " KE55ETH " "WaGSBB, THE TTEHB-
WOLF," "THE SOLDIERS 'WIPS " " BOSA LAilBEBT," "THB XOV£3 OP IHB HABBX," " TEJi BIB-

Horea plot," " thb cobal islasd," bic, btc.

WITH FlITY-TWO ILLUSTRATIONS,

BY ID WABD COBBOULD.

VOL. II.

LONDON:

PUBLISHED, FOR MB. REYNOLDS, BY JOHN DICKS, AT THE OmCE,
No. 7, "WELLINGIO^' STREET NORTH, STRAND.

1855.

^33 "3^

W^—^

INDEX OF THE ENGRAVINGS.

63.
54.
65.
56.
67.
68.
69.
60.
61.
C2.
63.
64.
65.
66
67.

70.
71.
72.
73.
74.
75.
76.
77.
78.
79.
80.
81.
82.
83.
84.

87.

88.

89.

90.

91

92.

93.

94.

95.

96.

97.

98.

99.
100.
101.
102.
103.
104.

The Spy and the Gendarme . .

The Eelease ....

Eugenie Delacour

The Alarm of Murder .

The Duke in the Prison-Chamber .

Captain Raymond and bis Friends

The Banditti

Eescue of Olivia . . .

The Count of Cassano

Joseph in the Appenines

Joseph, disguised, and the Mountebank

Joseph and Olivia

The Cavern in the Appenines

The Secret Recess

The Conversation Interrupted

The \ y8leri<'us Lady

Joseph, Sir Alexander and Lady Carrondale

Francisco Avellino . .

Antonia ....

The Portrait ....

Avellino and Antonio

The Cardinal and Joseph

The Roman Traveller .

Joseph and Cosmo . . .

Joseph and the Esrl of Eccleston

Joseph and the young Greek

Lanover and the Gieek Lieutenant .

Leonora and Constanfine

Joseph and the Greek Pa?e . .

The Arrest ot the Austrian Officer

The Athene and the Tyrol .

Joseph and the Greek CHptain . •

The Count of Monte D'Oro .

Joseph Leavinji the Farm House .

Josepli and Leonora .

Joseph and the Greek Prisoners.

The Murder in the Ruins

Joseph, the Count and Countess of Livomo

Jnseuh and the Earl of Eccleston

Joseph and the Count of Livorno .

Joseph at Milan

Joseph enacting the Police-officer .

Joseph and Mr. OMing

The Girden of the Asylum .

The Earls Denth .

Sir Miittliew Heseltine and Joseph

The Death bed Revelations .

Joseph and the Tivertons . .

Joseph and Captain Raymond

The Inn ....

Taddy Conveyed to Prison

The Balcony ....

PAGB
2

13

18
26
36
44
53
56
68
78
80
93
100
107
113
122
132
136
115
155
163
172
181
191
195

, 205
211

, 219
225

, 234
240

, 250
258

, 268
278

. 281
291

. 297
307

, 315
323

. 329
336

. 344
354

. 361
371

. 378
387

. 393
402

. 410

INDEX TO VOL. II

Chapter LXXVII. The Lecture Meeting

„ LXXVIII, The Conciergeria .

„ LXXIX. Tbe Cliamber of Peers

„ LXXX. The Lovers

„ LXXXI. The Spj Adolph*

„ LXXXri. The Murder .

„ LXXXni. Tbe Last Hour-

„ LXXX IV. The Night's Work .

„ LXXXV. Theobald

„ LXXXVL The Village Hotel .

„ LXXXVn. The Apennines

„ LXXXVIIL The Tower

„ LXXX IX. The Ducal Eeception

„ XC. The Fragment of the Letter

„ XCL The Two Appoiatments

„ XCIL TheHotelat Pistoja

„ XC I II. The Pocket-book

„ XCIV. Progress of my Enterprise

„ XCV. The Esamination

„ XCVI, Captain Eaymond .

„ XCVn. Olivia .

„ XCVIIL Danger .

„ XCIX. The Dungeon .

„ C. Valterra's Explanations .

„ CI. The ExecutioQ

„ Cn. Departure from Elorence

1

Q

13

17
21
2G
31
36
40
45
60
64
69
63
63
73
76
80
84
88
92
93
103
109
116
120

Chapter CIII. Eome

CIV. The Viscount of TivoU .

CV. Avellino's Tale

CVI. Old Acquaintances

CVn. An English Plum-Pudding.— Ad Encounter

CVIII. The Examination .

CIX. A Night-adrenture .

ex. The Appointments .

CXI. The Cardinal

CXII. Happiness .

CXIII. The Prisoners' CeU

CXIV. The Handsome Greek

CXV. Civita Vecchi

CXVI. Cosmo

CXVII. The Hotel

CXVIII. The Schooner

CXIX. Sunday Evening at the Hotel

CXX. The Coffee-house

CXXI. Farther Development of the Plot

CXXII. The Judge

CXXIII. A Pitchy Dark Kight

CXXIV. The Athene

CXXV. Durazzo

CXXVI. The Tyrol

CXXVII. The Fight .

CXXVIII. The Young Page

CXXIX. The Athene off Leghorn

CXXX The Yacht and the Cutter

CXXXI. The Monastery of St. Bartholomew .

CXXXII. The Castle of Monte d'Oro

CXXXIII. Ajaccio ....

CXXXIV. The Murder

CXaXV. Signer Castelli

CXXXVI, Civita Vecehia again

CXXXVIT. The Prison.— The Special Commission

CXXXVIII. The Stiletto .

CXXX IX. Woman's Devotion . . .

CXL. Another Bridal and another Trial .

CX> I. The Prison ....

CXLII. The Villa in the Vale of Arno

O.LII!. The Cemetery in the Vale of Arno

CXLIV. The Gaol-Burgeon .

CiLV. Milan .....

CXLVI. The Search

Fi.GB
126

130
133
142
14/
150
155
160
161
168
173
178
182
188
191
198
^ 203
207
211
215
221
226
230
236
239
242
246
250
255
262
267
270
274
277
280
286
292
296
300
307
312
317
322
323

Chapter CX [ Vll. The Scotch Lady
CXLVJII. Two Visitors .

„ CXLIX. The Lunatic Asylum .

„ CL. November, 1842

„ CLI. Freedom ....

„ CLII. The loth of November

„ CLIir. ExplaDatioDS . . .

„ CLiV. The School ....

„ CLV. More Meetings with Old Acquaintances

„ CLV J. At Home ....

„ CLVII. A Death Bed .

„ CLVIII. Visits ....

„ CLTX. The Inn

„ CLX. The Inquest ....

„ CLXr. The Viscountess Cenci . .

„ CLX II. Sir 'William Stratford

Conclusion • • ■ .

P^GB

330

336

342

347

352

CSS

3G3

37

375

379

384

389

392

398

40^.

4o:

41^

JOSEPH WILMOT;
OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT.

CHAPTER LXXVII.

THE lECTXTEE MEETINCf.

The tliird day after my interview with Made-
moiselle Eugenie Delacour had arrived; and in
the jneantime I was totally unahle to find any
63.

opportunity of speaking to the youthful Theobald,
Marquis de Paulin. I saw him on several occa-
sions : he looked pensive and melancholy— but;
showed not the slightest inclination to addresa
me. On the contrary he evidently avoided me ;
and I thought I could understand the reason. It
was that he was fearful lest his feelings should on
the one hand prompt him to put that question

JOSEPH WILMOT; OR, THE MEMOIES OF A MAN-SEBVANT.

which his pride on the other hand forbad him to i " Certaiuly," he at once responded, with re-
utter. Nevertheless, I comprehended that it would i markable affability : and methought there was a
not take much to induce him to speak to me ; and glitter of satisfaction in his eyes, as if he felt that
I therefore entertained little fear that an occasion i the moment for explanation was come, and with-
would present itself. The thii'd day had now out any detriment to his own personal pride,
arrived : the meeting was to take place in the inasmuch as the ice was not fii'sfc broken by him-
evening ; and I knew that Mademoiselle Delacour
would be grievously disappointed if I failed of
success in the task which I had undertaken.

I accordingly watched for an opportunity to
throw myself in the way of the youthful Marquis,
— resolving to address him. It was about noon
when I was summoned to the Duke's apartment ;
and he bade me take a case of pistols to a gun-
smith's in the Eue de la Paix,— intimating that
he had already given the tradesman instructions
as to what the weapons required doing to them.
I hastened to acquit myself of this errand, that I
might return without delay to the mansion, in
order to watch for the Marquis ; and I was not
long in reaching the Eue de la Pais. Just at the
moment that I arrived in front of the gunsmith's
shop, I observed a gendarme and another indi-
vidual, who was in plain clothes, stop and ex-
change a few hasty words. The man who was in
plain clothes— and who was of respectable appear-
ance, having the air of a tradesman — said em-
phatically to the gendarme, "Yes — it is for to-
night !"

They then separated, — the gendarme crossing
over to the opposite side of the street ; and the
man in plain clothes entering the gunsmith's. I
also entered, and sat down till the other who had
preceded me, should have been attended to.

" Good day, Monsieur Cresson," said the gun-
smith to the individual alluded to. " I suppose
you have called for the parcel ? It is in readiness."
"Yes," responded Cresson: and then he re-
peated the same significant phrase which he had
uttered at parting to the gendarme, but in a
half hushed and mysterious manner — " It is for
to-night !"

The gunsmith threw upon him a look as darkly
significant as the phrase itself was; and then un-
locking a drawer in the counter, he took forth a

self.

" You will think. Monsieur le Marquis," I pro-
ceeded to observe, " that I am taking a very great
liberty ; and you will think more than this too —
namely, that my proceeding is a very extraordi-
nary one."

" At all events I have no reason to think ill of
you," replied Theobald ; " and therefore rest as-
sured that I shall not travel out of my way to
put an unjust construction upon your proceeding,
whatever it may be. Speak in all frankness."

" I thank you, Monsieur le Marquis, for this
kind permission," I continued. " And now start
not — nor think me too bold — when I observe that
there is something upon your mind."

The youthful nobleman gazed earnestly upon
me, — his looks expressing mingled confusion and
wonder at a mode of address which might well
indeed appear strange to him : but he said not a
word.

" Yes, Monsieur le Marquis," I continued,
"there is something upon your mind. Humble
as I am, I have conceived a sufficient interest in
you to regret that you should be thus unhappy :
and hence the boldness of the present step which
I am adopting towards you."

The looks of the young Marquis were still full of
confusion: he evidently knew not what to say,
nor how to treat the language I was using towards
him. Indeed, it was quite natural for him to con-
sider it a very great liberty on my part, if my
object were only to express sympathy : but on the
other hand, I could judge by his demeanour that
he partially suspected I had some deeper motive
for thus addressing him. Still he continued silent :
but he bent a look upon me which was as much
as to imply that he awaited farther explanations.

" Monsieur le Marquis," I resumed, " these are
no idle words which I am speaking : nor are thej-

large heavy parcel, enveloped in brown paper and | a mere obtrusive declaration of compassionate

tied round with strong whipcord. He likewise
delivered a bill, which Monsieur Cresson imme-
diately paid, and which I observed amounted to a
sum of forty pounds, speaking in English money.
He then took the parcel and issued from the
shop,— thus leaving the gunsmith at liberty to
attend upon me. I delivered him the pistol case,
telling him that I came from the Duke de Paulin;
and taking my departure rapidly, I retraced my
way to the mansion, — thinking no more of Mon-
sieur Cresson and his mysterious phrase ; for in-
deed the incident was by no means one calculated
to dwell in my thoughts, the more especially as
these were tolerably well absorbed in the enterprise
which I had in hand. As I approached the man-
sion, I perceived the Marquis de Paulin advancing
along the street ; and I was resolved to avail my-
self of the opportunity which accident was thus
affording. The youth was walking at a slow pace
and in a pensive manner, with his eyes bent down :
he did not therefore observe me until I came
close up to him ; and then I boldly said, " Mon-
sieur le Marquis, may I be permitted to speak to
you ?"

interest. I will therefore at once follow up what
I have already said, by adding that as you have
something on your mind, it is in my power to
remove it — thereby restoring you to happiness,
and I may say to confidence."

The young nobleman blushed : for it was no
longer possible for him to doubt that I was al-
luding to his love for Mademoiselle Delacour.

" I can give you no farther explanations now,"
I continued : " nor indeed is this the place where
they can be given at aU."

" Then what do you suggest ? what do you
require of me ? what do you wish me to do ?"
asked the young nobleman, full of curiosity and
suspense.

" May I beg. Monsieur le Marquis, that you
will meet me this evening at a quarter to nine,
at the corner of the first street beyond the gate
of the mansion? However mysterious the present
proceeding may seem in your eyes, rest assured
that it will tend to the elucidation of all that is
troubling your mind ; and it will have the effect I
promised — namely, that of restoring you to happi-
ness and confidence."

JOSEVH WILMOT ; OE, THB MEMOIES O? A MAN-SERVAITr.

"I believe you, strange indeed though your
conduct naturally appears," rejoined the Marquis ;
" and I will keep the appointment which you have
just given. I of course presume that the matter
is entirely secret ?"

" Entirely so. Monsieur le Marquis :" — and not
choosing to tarry with the chance of being ques-
tioned, 1 bowed and hastened along to the mansion.

I was exceedingly glad at having thus far ac-
complished my purpose. I saw that the young
nobleman's curiosity was much piqued — that at
the same time he had the fullest confidence in the
assurance I had given him — and that he would
not therefore fail to keep the appointment, nor
refuse to accompany me whithersoever I might
choose to lead him.

At about half-past eight in the evening, I
sauntered out of the mansion, and proceeded in
the direction of the place of appointment. There
I walked to and fro, wondering what would bo the
result of Mademoiselle Eugenie's stratagem to
convert her youthful lover to her own political
principles — and thus, as she had expressed it,
render him all the more worthy of the devoted
affection she experienced for him. I could not
help thinking the experiment a very hazardous
one : for he was a youth of the most delicate sensi-
bilities— and it struck me as being quite possible
that he would regard her proceedings in respect
to the Secret Society as unfeminine — unmaidenly
—and in every sense unbecoming her sex, her
position, and her aspiration to be some day led by
him to the altar. Besides, I reflected that the
eloquence ot the speakers might fail to move him ;
and that so far from the impassioned fervour of
republican orators making upon his mind the im-
pression which the ardent girl so fondly anti-
cipated, it might shock his own political pre-
judices, and lead to an irreparable breach between
himself and the young lady. I was even sorry
that I had not made all these representations to
Eugenie when we met in the Champs Elysees :
but it was now too late — the affair was progressing
as she herself had sketched it out — and aU I could
do was to perform my own part, sincerely wishing
her success.

Punctual to the appointed time, I was joined
by the young Marquis, — and now I felt it neces-
sary to say a few words which might prepare him
somewhat for the scene to which he was about to
be introduced.

" I hope and trust. Monsieur le Marquis," I
began, " that you will leave yourself entirely to
my guidance : for though the proceeding I am
about to adopt, may at first appear to be utterly
unconnected with the result that is aimed at, I
can assure you that it is an indispensable prelimi-
nary. I now propose to conduct you to a place
where you will find other persons, and where you
may hear strange language : but I beseech you to
listen attentively— to betray no surprise by your
looks, whatever you may feel in your heart— to
offer no interruption— but to bear yourself alto-
gether as if it were a scene which you were before-
hand fully prepared to encounter."

" What strange words are these which you are
addressing to me ?" inquired the young Marquis,
as if in doubt whether it were prudent for him to
proceed another step in an affair so densely
shrouded in mystery.

" Do you think. Monsieur le Marquis," I said,
half coldly, half indignantly, " that 1 am capable
of any treachery ? If you mistrust me, I beg
that you will at once stop short in the matter :
but I can assure you that I am doing all this en-
tirely in your interest, and to serve no personal
motive of my own."

" Forgive me if I hesitated for an instant !"
said Theobald, with the fervour of a generous
heart. " I did not suspect you — I merely thought
it strange that you should observe so much mys-
stery. But lead the way — and I will follow."

" And you must follow. Monsieur le Marquis,"
I said, impressively, " as if blindfold you were con-
ducted by my hand : and you must not ask me a
single question as to anything you may hear or
see : but above all, look not astonished — betray no
outward wonderment — or we may fail in achieving
our object."

" Proceed," said Theobald. " I will be guided by
you in all things."

I now led the way towards the place of meeting,
in respect to the precise whereabouts of which I
had in the afternoon taken the special precaution
to refresh my memory ; and the small narrow
doorway was soon reached. It stood half open :
I took the hand of the Marquis; and as I pro-
nounced the word "Liberie," I led him into the
narrow alley, which was pitch dark.

" Good ! Pass on," said a voice behind the
door : and I felt the hand of the Marquis quiver
for a moment in my own.

But I said nothing ; though I squeezed that
hand, — thereby significantly impressing upon him
the necessity of attending to the instructions I had
previously given. The bell tinkled, — having been
evidently thus agitated by the individual behind
the outer door. Then the inner door opened : a
light gleamed forth : this time however it was not
the charming Eugenie who was acting as portress
— but a man in a mechanic's dress performed that
duty. To him the watchword was repeated from
my lips: we traversed the ante-chamber — the
man opened the door at the extremity — and I
conducted the young Marquis into that spacious
apartment which I now entered for the second
time.

On this occasion it was not dimly but well
lighted. There were about fifty persons assem-
bled; and the same description which was given of
the meeting in a previous chapter, as being the
representatives, so to speak, of all grades of society,
will suit them now. Theobald stopped suddenly
short : it was however only for an instant, — the
quick look which I flung upon him at once re-
calling my urgent instructions to his mind. Me-
thought he immediately comprehended the nature
of the scene amidst which he was thus introduced ;
and as I led him to a seat, he whispered to me, " I
fear, Joseph, that you have brought me to a place

which I ought not to have entered But it is

too late to retreat !"

" Hush, Monsieur le Marquis !" — and again I
bent upon him a deprecating regard.

" There must be some extraordinary mistake,"
he whispered in the lowest tone that could possi-
bly be audible : " there can be no earthly con-
nexion between this scene and that which I have
upon my mind !"

" Have patience," I rejoined, likewise speaking

JOSEPH WHMOT ; OB, THE MBM0IB8 OF A MAK-SERVANT.

in the lowest whisper : and theu I began gazing
around me, as much as to imply that I would not
listen to any further observations.

Theobald evidently resigned himself to whatso-
ever might now take place ; and though I could
well understand that his soul must have been filled
with uncertainty, suspicion, astonishment, and
doubt, — yet I must do him the credit to add that
he maintained a perfect control over bis looks.
There was a low hum of whispered conversation
going on in the room : no one was on the platform ;
the table at which the secretary had been seated
on the former occasion, was now removed — as was
likewise that smaller table with the death's head
upon it, — the space being filled up with additional
benches for the accommodation of a larger audi-
ence than was wont to meet at the secret delibera-
tions of the society. As my eyes slowly wandered
around, I perceived in the wall opposite to where
we were sitting, a smaU window, not more than a
couple of feet square : it had a green curtain
within, and which was closed ; but I could see
that a light was burning in the place with which
it communicated. And as I still gazed upon that
window, I perceived the green blind drawn slightly
aside for not perhaps more than the space of an
inch ; and methought that I caught a glimpse
likewise of a delicate taper finger in alabaster relief
against the dark drapery, and of an eye beaming
through the little opening. Ah ! there was no
longer any doubt as to Eugenie's place of conceal-
ment. But I did not choose to keep my looks
riveted too long upon that window, for fear lest
Theobald's regards should also be directed thither,
and that he might prematurely suspect some-
thing.

My eyes now wandered slowly around the apart-
ment, to ascertain whether Lamotte, or bis mili-
tary friend, or the tall gentleman who acted as my
second, were present : but I discerned them not.
My looks however settled upon a countenance
which struck me as being not altogether unfami-
liar : yet I could not immediately recollect whose it
was ; and my attention was quickly diverted thence
by a sudden sensation, as if the entire assembly
had been all in a moment thrilled by an electric
shock. This simultaneous feeling was produced by
the entrance of a gentleman upon the platform, by
means of a door at one extremity of that raised
dais ; and as it was on the same side with the little
window, I had no doubt it was the door of commu-
nication with the adjoining room, to which that
window belonged.

The gentleman who thus appeared upon the
platform, was short and slender, of a beautiful
figure, and genteel bearing. He was dressed in
deep black : his frock coat, with large lappels, was
buttoned across his chest ; and as it fitted tightly,
it displayed the perfect symmetry of his shape.
His countenance was pale and pensive : his hair
was of raven darkness : he wore no beard nor
moustache ; and his eyes shone with a preter-
natural light. His age could not have been more
than thirty, if so much : but as I contemplated
his features— as I was well able to do by the strong
light of the apartment — I noticed that there was a
world of deep thought depicted in that pale face.
The sensation which greeted him, was the only
testimonial of admiration and applause which the
audience dared show ; inasmuch as loud cheering,

the clapping of hands, or the stamping of feet,
might have been heard outside. But as I again
looked slowly around, I perceived that on many a
countenance there was the glow of that enthusiasm
which the appearance of this individual had
kindled into wild fires within the breast ; and that
those same fires too were now flashing forth from
many eyes. The young Marquis gazed with
curiosity upon the scene ; and I thought to myself
that this first symptom of interest bestowed on
something apart from what was uppermost in his
mind, was a somewhat favourable augury on behalf
of Eugenie's scheme.

A profound silence now pervaded the apartment ;
and after a brief space it was gently broken in
upon by the individual on the platform. His
voice was mellow and rich : but evidently expert
in the art of oratory, he pitched it low at the
commencement, in order that as it rose with the
conscious power of his own eloquence, it might
produce the grandest eflfects,— like those of an
organ swelling gradually from a low key into the
full glory of its magnificent sounding. And thus
was it with the orator. He began by introducing
his subject to the attention of the audience, in a
low and deliberate manner. This subject was to
be divided into two parts : the fixst exhibiting the
wrongs endured by the masses— the second indi-
cating the remedy. As he entered upon the
former branch, he expatiated with a telling effect
on all the evils of the political and social systems :
then, as he grew warmer, his voice swelled, his
utterance became quicker, his gesticulation impas-
sioned— until at length aU these were enhanced to
a degree which produced effects thrilling, and
exciting beyond description — almost maddening.
But whenever he had worked up the feelings of
his audience to such a height that his keen per-
ception told him they were about to burst forth in a
furor of applause at his eloquence, or into an ebul-
lition of fiercest indignation at the wrongs he
proclaimed and the authors of them whom he
denounced — he would cease for a moment — he
would place his finger upon his lip : the effect was
instantaneous— magical — spell-like : and all was
still !

Every now and then I glanced towards the
young Marquis ; and I was certainly astonished at
the effect produced upon him. I could scarcely
have believed it — much less hoped it : although I
had assuredly hoped every thing for Eugenie's sake.
He listened with suspended breath : he drank iu
the orator's words as if human language had never
before developed such power to his comprehension.
And that eloquence carried conviction too : I saw
that it did — I understood what was passing in the
youth's mind : his looks proclaimed it all. A glow
suffused itself upon his countenance, usually so
pale: a brilliant animation appeared upon those
features, recently so pensive. And then, too, at
some passages of the orator's speech, I saw that
Theobald's slender form quivered : then he seemed
shocked by some startling denunciation of the
nation's wrongs r and then again he would make a
quick spasmodic movement, as if about to spring
to his feet and proclaim his indignation at what ha
heard. From him my regards occasionally tra-
velled towards the little window. I noticed that
the space through which the observer was looking!
ecch time grew wider ; and as the light fell fuU

JOSEPH WILMOT; OB, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT.

upon Theobald's countenance, I knew that Eugenie
— for she I felt convinced the observer was — could
plainly mark every variation of feeling which the
youth's features expressed. At length the orator
concluded, afier a brilliant display of eloquence
which lasted for an hour and a half; and then the
young Marquis, clutching me violently by the
arm, whispered in a quick excited uaanner, "By
heaven, he is right in every syllable he has
uttered!"

" You think so ?" I asked eagerly : for I felt
that the crisis was now at band which was to de-
cide Eugenie's fate.

" I have heard things to-night," answered Theo-
bald, still in a low excited whisper, " such as I
never dreamt ot before. It appears as if my mind
had imdergone a complete revolution — as if a film
had fallen from my eyes. I behold the world in a
new and different light! Oh, to have thus im-
bibed the true principles of liberty ! It is the
duty of every man and woman "

"Of every woman?" I echoed, still speaking
eagerly.

"Yes — of every woman," repeated Theobald
emphatically, " to study and ponder these things.
And every child too should be taught them "

"And suppose," I interrupted the enthusiastic
young Marquis, " Mademoiselle Delacour enter-
tained such opinions ?"

" But she shall ! she must !" returned Theobald
vehemently. " Oh, if she were here !"

" She is," I rejoined. " Behold her !" — and as
I spoke, I in my turn clutched the Marquis forci-
bly by the arm, to keep him down in his seat : for
he was on the point of springing forward to rush
to the platform.

" Ah !" he ejaculated, but in a low voice : and I
saw that he now comprehended it all — how it was
I had become acquainted with his Eugenie —
wherefore she addressed me so courteously when
we encountered in the Champs Elysees — and how
it was that she had not dared reveal to him the
truth so as to explain the mystery which had
troubled and bewildered him.

At the instant that I had bidden the Marquis de
Paulin look in a particular direction, the beautiful
Eugenie came forth upon the platform, by means
of the door to which I have previously alluded, and
by which the eloquent orator disappeared in the
midst of the sensation which followed his thrill-
ing speech. This sensation was now prolonged as
Eugenie entered on the dais ; for it was natural
enough that one so young and lovely, so enthu-
siastic and so fervid in the principles which she
had adopted, should thus excite the admiration of
all present. She descended from the platform :
slowly and with a modest demeanour she passed
along the middle of the room : timidly her glance
was flung towards the spot where the Marquis and
I were seated ; — but yet I saw that there was a
certain satisfaction and triumph reflected in her
looks — she had not failed to observe from the win-
dow the impression produced upon her youthful
lover by the splendid orator's eloquence. Another
speaker appeared upon the platform j and in the
renewed sensation which his presence caused, at-
tention was diverted from Eugenie as she drew
near to us.

"Compose yourself. Monsieur le Marquis," I
hastily whispered to Theobald : " beware how you

compromise Mademoiselle Delacour by any display
of excitement."

I saw that the hint was only too necessary : for
the young Marquis, whose highly susceptible feel-
ings were wrought up to a pitch of perfect exulta-
tion, would have sprung forward, unmindful of all
others present, to strain Eugenie in his arms.
She sate down with us, — flinging a look of
warmest gratitude upon me : and then she began
whispering to her lover. I averted my eyes so as
not to be a restraint upon them: and now my
looks again happened to settle upon that man
whose countenance had in the earlier part of the
evening struck me as being not altogether unfa-
miliar. I had totally forgotten him during the
hour and a half that the first orator's speech lasted ;
and now as my eyes fell upon him again, the
recollection flashed to me that it was the Mon-
sieur Cresson whom I had seen at the gunsmith's
shop in the morning. Yes — and with that re-
membrance too came the circumstance of his hasty
colloquy with the gendarme, and of the phrase
which I had twice heard him so significantly re-
peat— " It is for to-night !"

A strange sensation of trouble came over me —
a presentiment of impending evil — a suspicion of
that man, which I felt rapidly growing into an
aversion. Nor were my feelings of apprehension
allayed, when I noticed that he was now study-
ing my countenance, and methought in a peculiar
manner — as if he also remembered having seen me
in the morning at the gunsmith's in the Hue de
la Paix. I did not choose to suffer him to per-
ceive that he was the object of any attention on
my part, nor that I noticed how he was regarding
me. I therefore slowly turned my eyes in another
direction ; and in about a minute, I whispered to
Mademoiselle Eugenie, " Don't look at him imme-
diately— but do you know that short, dark,
middle.aged man sitting close under the little
window ?"

As if in an indifferent manner, the young lady
gazed leisurely round the apartment; and then
said to me, " Yes — his name is Cresson — he is a
worthy citizen, and one of the staunchest members
of the Society ; but he is somewhat too tierce in
his zeal, and is believed to be rather inclined to
the doctrines of the old reign of terror."

"Mademoiselle Delacour," I answered, delibe-
rately, though speaking in the lowest whisper,
" that man is a spy, and mischief is impend-
ing!"

" A spy ? Oh, no !" she responded, her manner
totally unruffled. " Of all men he would be the
last I should suspect."

" Nevertheless, he is a spy !" I rejoined : and
then in a few hasty words I proceeded to explain
the incident at the gunsmith's, — how he had
spoken to the gendarme — how he had twice re-
peated the phrase, " It is for to-night !" — and how
he had received a large parcel for which he had
paid a considerable sum of money.

" You are right, Mr. Wilmot," answered
Eugenie, when I had finished: "that man is a
spy — and we shall every one of us be arrested."

Any alarm which this announcement was but
too well calculated to excite within me, was totally
absorbed by a sense of wondering admiration at
the extraordinary nerve and calm intrepidity which
Mademoiselle Delacour displayed. There was a

JOSEPH WILMOT; OE, THE MEMOIES OP A MAN-SBBVAITT.

partiallj heightened flash upoa her cheeks : bat it
was easy to perceive that it arose from indignation
against the treacheroas-minded Cresson, and not
from the influence of fear. The young Marquis,
who was listening to our low whispered discourse,
now said, " For heaven's sake, Eugenie, depart at
once ! • Ifot for worlds would I have such a fate
befall you !"

The young girl bent her looks searchingly upon
her lover ; and then she said, '' I see, dearest
Theobald, that your solicitude is indeed only on
my account — and I thank you. If it had been
otherwise, I should despise you. Dearest, dearest
Theobald, you know not how proud of you I am
this night !"

The youth's cheeks glowed with enthusiastic
fervour at the compliment and the tender as-
surance which flowed from the lips of her whom
he loved so well; — and I gazad admiringly upon
that enthusiastic as well as beautiful young couple.
At length I said to Mademoiselle Delacour, '■' How
will you act ?"

"It is useless to do anything," she responded
with the same calm intrepidity as before. "Every
one is marked : and whether we be arrested here
to-night, or at our own homes on the morrow, it
matters but little. Nevertheless, depart you with
Theobald — -"

"And leave you here .''" said the Marquis.
"No — Eugenie — never, never! If you remain, I
remain likewise."

He was rewarded by another look of tender ad-
miration bent upon him by the sweet eyes of
Eugenie ; and at this moment we became aware
of an unusual noise in the ante-chamber. The
door was suddenly burst open : the other door —
namely, the one leading upon the platform — was
simultaneously dashed in ; and a posse of soldiers
with fixed bayonets, and geyid<irmes with drawn
swords, thronged in from both entrances.

I must confess that I was seized with a momen-
tary alarm: but as the next instant I glanced
towards Eugenie and the young Marquis, and
beheld that tender pair of scarcely eighteen dis-
playing a cool and noble intrepidity, I was smitten
with a sudden sense of s'aame at my own weak-
ness. AU was now confusion ; and some of the
male members of the Secret Society made a des-
perate resistance as the gendarmes endeavoured to
capture them. "Wounds were inflicted — ^in three or
four parts of the room there were fierce scuffles
— but I was not left long enough to behold the re-
sult : for amongst the very first to be surrounded
and arrested, were the Marquis, Eugenie, and my-
self.

" Offer no violence to this young lady," said
Theobald : " it is the only favour which the Mar-
quis de Paulin condescends to ask :" — and he
spoke with a dignity which would have sat admira-
bly upon a man of even double his age.

" The Marquis de Paulin ?" echoed an officer who
was in command of the detachment of mihtary :
and he looked amazed.

"Yes — I am the Duke de Paulin's son," re-
joined Theobald ; " and I beg that any respect
which this announcement might procure towards
myself, may be transferred to this young lady, who
is the niece of an eminent banker."

" If you will pledge your word of honour,
Monsieur le Marquis," continued the officer, " that

you will hold yourself in readiness to obey any
summons on the part of the authorities, you may
return homo. I take this responsibility upon my-
self."

"Will you accord the same favour to Made-
moiselle Delacour ?" asked Theobald.

" I dare not. Monsieur le Marquis," replied the
officer, shaking his head regretfully. " I am per-
haps even stretching a point and incurring a
risk "

'•' I thank you for your courtesy," interrupted the
Marquis; "but I wiU share the same fate as
that which is in store for Mademoiselle Dela-
cour."

Eapid yet fervid was the glanco of admiration
and love which the young lady threw upon
Theobald : the officer could not help survey-
ing him also in an admiring manner — then he bent
a compassionating look on Eugenie — but the next
instant he shook his head gloomily, and said, " I
must do my duty."

We were now all three conducted forth from the
place; and on reaching the street, the Marquis
inquired of the two soldiers in whose charge the
officer had left us, to which prison we were to bo
consigned? The answer was, "To the Prefec-
ture."

Theobald then requested that we might be per-
mitted to proceed tuither in a hackney-coach ; and
this demand was complied with. A vehicle was
soon obtained ; and we three occupied the in-
terior,— one of the soldiers riding on the box, and
the other standing behind. During the transit
both the Marquis and Eugenie expressed their
deepest regret that in my endeavour to serve them,
I should have become involved in so cruel a
dilemma : but I bade them not render themselves
uneasy on my account — while, as for in any way
blaming them, it was altogether out of the ques-
tion.

On reaching the Prefecture, we were separated,
and all three consigned to difl'ercnt apartments :
but we shook hands warmly before our com-
panionship was thus severed.

CHAPTEE LXXVIII.

THE COirCIESGEEIE.

It was not a badly furnished nor uncomfortable
room in which I was incarcerated : but it was well
protected with bars and bolts — so that escape was
impossible even if I had entertained an idea of at-
tempting it. I now found myself in a very serious
predicament — although I had no apprehension for
my life, as I knew perfectly well that the gene-
rosity of Eugenie and the Marquis would lead
them to explain to the authorities how I had hap-
pened to be present at that secret meeting. Be-
sides, when I reflected upon it, I did not conceive
that the ofience could possibly amount to high
treason, as no deliberations for any specific pur-
pose had taken place, but there were merely violent
speeches delivered and listened to. I would not
suffer myself to yield to despondency — much less
to despair : for I had continuously before my eyes
the magnanimous example of Eugenie and the
young Marquis. Nevertheless, I caught myself

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OB, THE MEMOIES OF A MAN-SERVANT.

sighing more than once, as I thought of Annabel,
and reflected what her grief would be when she
came to hear of the perilous situation in which I
was placed. The reader may be assured that I
slept but little that night : for although I sus-
tained my fortitude, yet my meditations were of
a nature but too well calculated to keep me
awake. ^

In the morning, at about nine o'clock, a decent
breakfast of coffee and bread-and-butter was
brought in to me by a turnkey ; and a couple of
hours later I was conducted to a large apartment
on the ground floor, — where five functionaries
were seated at a table. I presently learnt that
one was the Chancellor of France and President of
the Chamber of Peers — another was the Prefect of
Police — the third was the Judge of Instruction —
and the remaining two were secretaries to take
down the examination. I advanced towards the
table with a firm but respectful look ; and the
Judge of Instruction, on questioning me, intimated
that as one of the secretaries understood English,
he might serve as an interpreter if I did not find
myself proficient enough in French to undergo my
examination in this latter language. The inter-
preter became necessary ; and the substance of
the examination can be given in a comparatively
Baort space.

I was asked my name, my age, my occupation,
and so forth. Then I was informed that as I had
been found at a secret meeting held for the most
odious purposes, if I had any explanation to give
the examiners were ready to receive it. I respect-
fully inquired whether my name had been men-
tioned by any prisoners previously examined ? — for
I thought that if the Marquis de Paulin and
Eugenie had not as yet obtained an opportunity of
giving any explanation on my behalf, I would not
be the first to allude to so delicate a matter as
their love and the circumstances which had taken
me to the meeting. I was informed, in answer to
my question, that nothing had been said relative
to me by any previously examined prisoner ; and
therefore I judged that Eugenie and the Marquis
had not yet appeared in the presence of this tribunal.
I accordingly declared that on the present occasion
I had no explanation to volunteer. But now fol-
lowed an almost overwhelming announcement. I
was informed that I stood charged with the crime
of hi[;h treason, and of meeting and conniving
with others for the purpose of assassinating the
King, of overthrowing the government, and of
establishing a republic. The secretary who acted
as interpreter, pointed towards a side-table, on
which I beheld a number of pistols and powder-
flasks, — the secretary observing that these were
discovered on the preceding night concealed under
the platform of the apartment in which the meet-
ing was held. At first I was too much astounded,
alarmed, and bewildered for deliberate reflection :
but as I regained my self-possession, an idea
flashed to my brain — and I ejaculated, " The
traitor Cresson 1"

"You must not call him a traitor," said the
secretary sternly : " he is a loyal, subject to his
King. What excuse have you, young man — an
alien — a foreigner — having no concern with the
affairs of our nation — for joining in this diabolical
plot?"

" I am innocent," was my answer. " I indig-

nantly repudiate the black charge — —Not for
worlds would I dream of the horrible crime of
assassination ! Yes, gentlemen — and hear me
while I declare my firm conviction to be that those
weapons and that powder were conveyed to the
place of meeting by Cresson himself! Permit
me?" I added: and walking straight up to the
side-table, I took one of the weapons and one of
the flasks in my hand. " Yes, it is so !" I ejacu-
lated, as I perceived upon both pistol and flask the
name of the gunsmith in the Rue de la Paix.

I was now asked to explain upon what ground
I made so serious an accusation against Cresson.
I described the incident with regard to that man ;
and when the interpreter had repeated it to the
tribunal, the functionaries composing it whispered
together for some minutes. At the end of this
conference I was ordered back to my prison-
chamber ; and when again alone, I reflected on all
that had just occurred. I felt assured that my
statement in respect to Cresson had produced a
most important effect upon the examining func-
tionaries, and I hoped it would lead to some good
result.

Presently the door opened; and the Duke de
Paulin, accompanied by an elderly gentleman
dressed in black, made his appearance. The Duke
seemed much affected: for he had just come from
visiting his son in an adjoining chamber. Me-
thought he was disposed to be angry with me :
for in the first instance he accused me of being the
cause of involving the Marquis in so perilous a
predicament. The gentleman in black — who proved
to be a barrister — whispered something in the
Duke's ear ; and the nobleman, instantaneously
softening towards me, said in a musing strain,
"Yes — it is true — Theobald enjoined me on no
account to speak harshly to you. Indeed he would
not have told me the entire truth — thus showing
how it was that he accompanied you at your own
instigation to the meeting-place — were he not
anxious to make it apparent that you had no mo-
tive beyond that of serving him and this precious
virago Mademoiselle Delacour."

" Mademoiselle Delacour, Monsieur le Due," I
answered, in a tone of firm but respectful re-
monstrance, " is a young lady who deserves not
to be flippantly nor disparagingly spoken of."

" Cursed be the day when she and Theobald
first met !" ejaculated the Duke vehemently, " Ah !
Joseph, you do not seem to comprehend the fright-
ful danger which menaces you all. Do you know,
unhappy boy, that these secret conspiracies ■((have
gone to such a length that the King and his
government have determined to make a terrible
example ? Heads will roll upon the scaffold —
and numbers will be sent to work in chains at the
galleys. Sooner almost the former fate instead of
the latter for my unhappy son !" — and the Duke,
sinking upon a chair, covered his face with his
hands and sobbed convulsively.

I was much affected by this spectacle of a
father's distress : for I knew that with all his
faults the Duke de Paulin was much attached to
his children — and he might be especially supposed
to feel the dreadful calamity which had overtaken
his first-born whom he had hitherto proudly re-
garded as the future heir to his wealth and
title.

" But surely, Monsieur le Due," I said, " when

8

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OB, THE MUMOniS OV A MAN -SEnVANT.

the circumstances by which Monsieur le Mafquis
was led to visit that place, become known "

"It will avail him nothing!" ejaculated the
Duke vehemently. "Cressonthe spy has deposed
to the visible effect which the speeches made upon
my unhappy son ; and this tells terribly against
him. Besides, I am no favourite with the King :
I belong to that old regiine which regrets the elder
Bourbons, and openly avows its distaste for the
existing dynasty. The Citizen King abhors the
Carlists, and will gladly deal them a blow through
the scion of one of their oldest and proudest
families. Nevertheless all that can be done, shall
be done. This gentleman is a barrister of emi-
nence; and he will undertake the defence of my
son and of yourself. You see, Joseph, that I do
not leave you unfriended."

As the Duke thus spoke, he bent upon me a
significant look, — as much as to imply that as I
had faithfully kept his secret in respect to the
revelations of his wife's manuscript-narrative, and
as I had likewise rendered him some services with
regard to Mademoiselle Ligny — ^he was now proving
his gratitude. I thanked him for his kind con-
sideration; and proceeded to give such explana-
tions as the barrister required. I found that the
Duke and the legal gentleman had already learnt
from the lips of the Marquis, the fullest par-
ticulars in respect to the circumstances which had
led us to the meeting: they had also from the
same source received some intimation of the
Cresson affair — and it was on this point that they
now specially needed additional details. I was
just on the point of commencing the required
particulars — the barrister was ready with his
writing-materials to take down whatsoever I had
to say through the medium of the Duke as an
interpreter— when the door suddenly opened ; and
the Prefect of Police made his appearance, fol-
lowed by a couple of gendarmes. I was at once
informed that I was to be removed elsewhere:
the Duke and the barrister requested a few
minutes' delay that they might terminate the
business they had with me: but the Prefect
peremptorily refused compliance ; and I was aston-
ished at the almost brutal manner in which he
treated a nobleman of the Duke de Paulin's rank.
The barrister demanded whither I was going, in
order that he might see me in my new place of
confinement: but the Prefect refused to answer
any questions — the gendarmes seized upon me —
and I was hurried away. A hackney-coach was
waitipg in the court-yard below : into this I was
put — the police-officers accompanying me. They
drew down the blinds — the coachman had doubt-
less already received his instructions— and the
vehicle was borne away from the precincts of the
Prefecture.

The drive was not a long one— indeed it lasted
not many minutes ; and when I alighted, I found
it was the prison of the Conciergerie to which I
had been brought ; for the ominous-looking build-
ing, overlooking the waters of the Seine, was known
to me. The wicket in the huge grated gates was
opened : I was conducted into a large hall, in the
midst of which stood a stone table with writing
materials upon it. A turnkey attended upon us :
one of the gendarmes produced an official docu-
ment, which that turnkey signed and gave back :
the two police-officers then took their departure —

and the gaol official conducted me up a staircase
along a gloomy stone passage to a chamber which
he gave me to understand I was to occupy. It
was very decently furnished : the turnkey informed
me that it was his own furniture, and that if I
chose to retain it, I should have to pay a few francs
a week for the use of it — but that it was entirely
optional, and if I refused he would supply me with
such articles as the prison regulations allowed. I
gave him to understand that I should cheerfully
avail myself of his offer — but that I had very little
money about me, although I had plenty more in
my box at the Duke de Paulin's mansion. The
turnkey answered that as I should require my clean
linen and other effects, he would send a porter to
the Duke's house to fetch my box, if I gave a
written authority for it to be delivered up. This
I was only too glad to do, in order to have my
necessaries and comforts about me; and in the
course of the afternoon the trunk was brought.

The turnkey now gave me to understand that in
respect to meals, I could either have the gaol al-
lowance, or that I was welcome to be supplied
from an eating-house. Before I gave a decision, I
thought it better to ascertain, if possible, how long
my imprisonment under present circumstances was
likely to last ; so that I might regulate my expen-
diture according to my resources. The turnkey
replied that so far as he could judge, I might
reckon upon at least six weeks' incarceration be-
fore any change would take place in respect to my
position. I found that I should be perfectly justi-
fied, according to the contents of my purse, to have
my repasts from an eating-house ; and I saw that
the man was somewhat pleased with this decision :
80 that I imagined he was either connected with
the eating-house which he recommended, or else
that he had a very good understanding with its
proprietor. Thinking that he was inclined to be
communicative on the strength of the gains which
he would reap from my presence in that gaol — and
knowing a sufficiency of French to be enabled to
converse on ordinary topics — I asked him what
was the motive for removing me so abruptly from
the Prefecture ? He now all in an instant became
distant and reserved, — simply informing me that I
was au, secret. Not precisely understanding the
term, I besought him to explain it, observing that
there could be no harm in his suffering me to be
acquainted with the precise nature of my position.
He then said that I was ordered into secret con-
finement : that is to say, I was to be kept a close
prisoner, and not to be allowed to communicate
with a single soul except the gaol-authorities — to
receive neither visits nor letters from outside the
walls — nor to despatch any correspondence to
friends or relatives. At this announcement, I felt
alike afflicted and indignant, — asking whether I
should not be allowed to receive the visits of a
legal adviser — and whether, when the time came, I
was all in a moment to be put upon my trial with-
out being in the slightest degree prepared for my
defence? The turnkey, after some little hesita-
tion, told me I might make myself perfectly easy
on that score : and then he begged me not to
question him any farther.

When left alone, I first examined my box,—
thinking that perhaps although it was locked, a
note might have been thrust underneath the lid
by the Puke, if he had any reason or wish to com-

\

JOSEI'H WlLMOr ; OE, THE MEM0IB3 OF A MA>'-3EEVAj;T.

municate with me. But on opening the box, I
found that it must have been previously unlocked
■and thoroughly ransacked, as all the articles which
it contained were differently disposed from what
they were when I myself last saw the interior of
that trunk. I therefore concluded that it had
been opened by the gaol-authorities by means of a
skeleton key, in order to discover if there were
any correspondence affecting my case, or any arti-
cles which were prohibited from entering the gaol
by the regulations of the place. After a careful
scrutiny, I found that nothing had been abstracted :
I counted my money and found the sum perfectly
correct : my clothes, my linen, my private papers,
my books, and my writing-materids were all in
the bos.

And now I must say a few words in respect to
my room. It was of tolerable size ; and though
the walls were so massive, it was light and airy —
64

for the window looked towards the Seine, and by
opening it I could enjoy the fresh breeze that
blew from the river. I could not however lo:>k
out of it, because the window itself was deep iii
the embrasure, or slanting aperture in the im-
mense wall ; and the inner mouth of that opening
was fenced with iron bars. It was moreover high
up ; and I could only catch a glimpse of the roofs
and chimneys of the houses on the opposite side
of the river. The wall was so thick that even my
arm when stretched out straight through the
grating of bars, would not enable the tips of my
fingers to touch the glass : but the window was
opened or shut by means of two cords, ruuning
different ways through a pulley. As I stood con-
templating that window, the thought stole into
my mind that as it looked upon the quay on the
bank of the Seine, and the wall went straight down
to the very footpath where people passed to and

10

JOSEPH WILMOT; OB, THE MFMOIHS OF A MA^-SEETANT.

fro, there was nothing to prevent me from tossing
a note through, addressed to any one with whom I
might choose to communicate, — always of course
trusting to the chance that the person who picked
it up would take the trouble of conveying it to its
destination. But a second thought told me that
it was preposterous to suppose that the gaol-
authorities would commit such an oversight, if it
were intended to prevent me from communicating
with persons outside the walls : and then the re-
collection flashed to my mind that when I had
passed that way in my rambles about Paris, I
had observed that there was a sentinel keeping
guard upon the quay under the prison- walls. Ah !
and during those rambles which on two or three
occasions had led me into the vicinage of the Con-
ciergerie — and when I had gazed up at that
sinister-looking place — how very, very far was it
from my thoughts that I should ever become an
inmate there !

In respect to my room, I may repeat that it was
comfortably furnished— perfectly neat and cleanly
in all its appointments ; and that therefore, apart
from the privation of liberty, the uncertainty of
my position, and my anxiety on account of others,
I had nothing to complain of. "With regard to
exercise, I was informed by the turnkey that I
might walk for a couple of hours every day in the
court -yard, at a time when the other prisoners were

the world, so it was intended to keep the world as
it were dead to me.

I managed to divert my mind sufficiently with
my books for the first three or four days : but as
they were limited iu number, and I had read them
all before — indeed was previously intimate with
the contents of most of them — this resource soon
failed. Then it was the idea struck me that I
would commence writing my memoirs ; anil pleased
with a project which promised me occupation as
long as my itnprisonment under present circum-
stances was likely to last, I set to work. Thus,
gentle reader, you now understand that no incon-
siderable portion of this narrative of mine was
penned within the walls of a French gfaol.

It must not be supposed that because I liave
indulged so long in matter descriptive of my posi-
tion and circumstances at the Ccnciergcrie, my
thoughts were riveted solely thereon. !N'o— far
from it ! I often wondered, with a racking brain
and an aching heart, whether through the medium
of the newspapers my involvement in this dilemma
had travelled to England and reached the ears of
my friends at Heseltine Hall : for if so, I knew
full well that Mrs. Lanover and the beauteous
Annabel would be profoundly afSicted— and that
I should become seriously damaged, if not irre-
parably ruined, in the estimation of Sir Ivlattbow
Heseltiue. The old baronet had sent me out into

in their respective cells or chambers. The turnkey the world on a two years' probation; and during
moreover communicated the not very agreeable | this interval my conduct was to be taken as the

intelligence, that certain windows which he pointed
out in that court-yard — and which had double
gratings, hugely massive — belonged to the con-
demned cells in which prisoners sentenced to exe-
cution were lodged for the twenty-four hours
immediately preceding the fatal moment that was
to terminate their existence; but that previously
thev were detained after their trial in other gaols
— most commonly that of Bic^tre. It was with a
cold shudder I gazed upon those windows .: and I
inwardly resolved tiever to avail myself of the pri-
vilege of walking in that court-yard when it came
to my knowledge that there were criminals in
the condemned cells.

There was no restraint placed upon me in
respect to the use of my books and writing-
materials : the turnkey however gave me to under-
stand that it would be totally useless for me to
endeavour to communicate with any one outside
the nails; and as he glanced significantly towards
the deep set window of my chamber, he intimated
that sentinels were posted day and night on the
quay beneath. This intelligence only confirmed
my own previous impression ; and when the turn-
key added, with another significant look, that the
continuation of the kind treatment I was experi-
encing, depended entirely on my own conduct, 1
was more than ever resolved to run no insane risk
by endeavouring to send a note flying forth from
the window. But as I felt deeply anxious in
respect to those who were arrested along with
myself— especially considering the serious aspect
which was given to the whole aflair by Cresson's
diabolic villany iu respect to the arms and ammu-
nition— I inquired of the turnkey, on the second
day alter my removal to the Conciergr-rie, whether
I uiiglit not be peruiitted the perusal of news-
papers ? To this he gave a decisive negative j and
thus I found that as for the present I was dead to

test of my worthiness to become the husband of
Annabel. I had been directed to travel over the
Continent to gain experience of the world and to
enlarge my mind : ample funds were supplied me
for this purpose: — and how had I acquitted
myself."* Nearly six mouths had now elapsed
since I left Hf-seltine Hall : I had not got farther
on my travels than Paris: there I had suSVred
myself to be swimlled out of all my little fortune :
instead of gleaning the experience of good society, I
had sunk' down again into the positioa of a meuial
— I had become involved in a serious dileuiina—
and T was now the inmate of a prison ! Even itin tiie
long run I obtained my liberty, how could I rei urn
at the expiration of the probationary period to
Heseltine Hall, with the hope that Sir Alutiliew
would consent to bestow his grauddaugliter upon
me ? These reflections visited me often and
afflicted me profoundly : but still, on the whole, I
did venture to hope that everything would yet find
an issue for the best : for, as I have before said, I
loved — and love itself is hope !

The reader may wonder wherefore, in the csrly
stage of my imprisonment, I thus dared to reflect
upon eventual restoration to liberty— and wliy, on
the other hand, I was not trembling for my very
life itself ? On this poiut I will say a word or two
of explanation ere resuming the thread of my nar-
rative. I was a close prisoner — debarred from all
communication w^ith the world outside the walls —
my treatment was lenient— and the turnkey liad
hinted that my incarceration, under existing- cir-
cumstances, would be limited to a few weeks : I
was not again brought before the Judge of Instruc-
tion—and yet my case was left totalis incomplete
at the first exaiijiualion : I was even piev^'uted
from making an* arrangetnenis for a ucffuce -
the turnkey bad bade me not trouble mvsL-lf on
that point— and I likewise bore in miad how sum-

JOSEPH WIIMOT ; OK, THE STEilOIRS OF A MAN-SEltVAXT.

11 I

marilj I was hurried off from the Prefecture when
visited by the Duke and the barrister. The de-
ductions I drew from all these circumstances, were
natural enough, — especially as I had read of the
unscrupulous and iniquitous stratagems to which
Louis Philippe's government had recourse when
• having a particular aim to carry out. In a word,
I felt convinced that I had been spirited away into
secret confinement in order to stide the evidence
which I could give with regard to the Cresson
aflPair— that it was intended to leave me out of the
prosecution altogether — and that when, through
the absence of my vitally important testimony, a
conviction should have been obtained and ven-
geance wreaked against the ofifenders, it would be
held time enough to dispose of me. I therefore
concluded that when all was over, I should be set
at liberty and hurried out of France, with an order
never to return.

I have already said that I was allowed to take a
couple of hours' exercise each day in the court-
yard of the prison ; and this was usually between
nine and eleven in the morning, or between three
and five in the afternoon, according to my own
option : for at both of those intervals the prisoners I
in that particular compartment were assigned to
their own quarters. I had been about five weeks
at the Conciergerie, when the following incident
occurred. It was one aftemoor, as I was walking
in the court-yard between three and five, that the
gate opened and a gendarme appeared, leading in
a prisoner. With an instinctive feeling of cariosity
my eyes settled upon that prisoner; and to my
astonishment I immediately recognised Mr. Dor-
chester. He was no longer apparelled nor disguised
in the same fashion as when a few months back
he had played the part of Mr. Dowton at Alcurice's
Hotel, and had so successfully plundered me of my
property : but he now looked precisely the same
Mr. Dorchester whom I first knew at Oldham. He
was dressed in black, with a white neckcloth, and
therefore had a clerical air. The recognition was
instantaneously mutual : an ejaculation burst from
my lips: but the villanous hypocrite, assuming a
sanctimonious demeanour, lifted up his hands —
raised his eyes also, until the whites were visible
beneath the pupils — and in a canting lugubrious
tone, said, " It is heaven's will, Joseph, that we
should be thus chastised for our misdeeds !"

The gendarme immediately ordained silence, and
imperiously waved his hand for me to retreat to
the farther epd of the yard. Ihis intimation I at
once obeyed; and he conducted Mr. Dorchester
into one of the buildings overlooking the enclosure.
I marvelled what ofience the sanctimonious villain
had committed— but entertained little doubt that
it was his swindling propensity which had at last
brought him within the fangs of the law. It would
be a miserable afiectation on my part to pretend
that I felt at all on his behalf: on the contrary, I
was by no means sorry to think that he was at
length obtaining his deserts.

On returning to my own chamber, I informed the
turnkey who attended me thither to lock and bolt !
the door upon me as usual, that I had recognised in
a new prisoner an individual who had robbed me in
a particular manner a few months back. The
turnkey, not belonging to the department of the
gaol to which Dorchester had been assigned, was
ignorant of the ofience for which ho was brought

thither : but he promised to make inquiries and
let mo know. Accordingly, in the evening the man
informed me that tlie Rev. Mr. Dorchester had
only arrived in Paris a few days previously — that
he had taken up his quarters at an hotel in the
Place Vendome — and that having formed t!ie ac-
quaintance of an English gentleman thsre, he had
persuaded him to change his Bank-notes for
French gold at some particular money-dealer's of
whom he (Dorchester) pretended to have a special
knowledge. The Englishman, it appeared, thank-
fully accepted the proposal, and was induced to
entrust a bundle of bank-notes to Mr. Dorchester,
to be added to his own. Dorchester contrived to
give his new acquaintance the slip, and managed
to decamp out of his sight : but he was discovered
and arrested within half-anhour, just as he was
about to enter a diligence starting for some town
in the interior. Tlie turnkey farther informed
me that Dorchester had been tried this very day
of which I am writing — and that it was from the
Palace of Justice (where tlie tribunals are) that
he was being brought back to prison by tho
gendarme at the moment I had seen him. His
sentence was a year's imprisonment, to be under-
gone in the gaol of La Force, to which he would
be removed in the course of three or four days.
The reader will be struck, as I was, with the
similitude between my own case in respect to Dor-
chester and that for which he was now condemned;
and it appeared to me a most extraordinary coin-
cidence that I should be by circumstances placed
in a position to see the culprit immediately after
he had received his sentence from the court.

I could not help noticing that the turnkey lin-
gered about in the room after he had given me
the information relative to Mr. Dorchester ; and
methought, by the official's manner, that he had
something more to say, but hesitated whether to
give utterance to what was in his mind. I asked
him if he had told me all in respect to Dorchester?
— he replied in the affirmative: then he looked
hard at me — then he played with his keys— and
then, with a strange abruptness, ho bade me
'•' good night," issuing quickly forth and locking
the massive door behind him. To a person in my
position the slightest incident was of importance,
not merely as breaking in upon the monotony of
a prison-life, but also as appearing to be the har-
binger of some change. That the turnkey had a
communication to make, but hesitated to make it,
was evident enough. Yet I did not tliink it was
any evil intelligence which he had to impart : for
his manner, while conversing about Dorchester,
was gay and laughing; and subsequently there
was nothing in his hesitation, his fidgetting, and
his sense of embarrassment, that could be taken
as an augury of ill. What, then, could it mean ?
Was the term of my imprisonment now really at
hand? — did he know the hour and the day ?— was
he prompted by good feeling to set my mind at
ease, but prevented by a sense of duty from speak-
ing the word which would have that effect ? I
slept but little that night — and anxiously looked
for the turnkey's coming with my breakfast in the
morning.

But when he made his appearance his de-
meanour was the same as it ordinarily was; and I
fancied that I must have been mistaken on the
preceding evening. I felt disappointed : a hope

12

JOSEPH WILMOT; OB, THE HEMOIKS OF A 3IAN-SEBTA1TT.

which I had hugged, was thus suddenly destroyed.
He left the room : the repast reniaiaed on the
table scarcely tasted ; and I regretted that I had
not questioned the man. But not more than half-
an-hour had passed, when I heard his well-known
footsteps approaching along the stone passage
outside : I thought that he must be going to

another chamber no, he stopped at mine^

the key turned in the lock— the bolts were drawn ]
back — and he entered. It immediatey struck me |
that there was something peculiar in his look — a
certain significaney, as if he had really something
to say : and starting up from my chair, I gazed
upon him with an indescribable suspense. Oh ! if
the hour of my liberatioa were at hand, what
ha{Jpiness! — but I scarcely dared indulge in the
wild, thrilling hope !

And the turnkey gazed also upon me in a pecu-
liar manner, so that feeling the state of suspense
to be utterly intolerable, I clutched the man vio-
lently by the arm, exclaiming, " For heaven's
I sake, speak !" ,

'•' Would you like to escape ?" he asked me, in a
low deep voice, and then flinging his looks around
as if the very walls themselves had ears.

"Escape.' — yes! — if the term of my imprison-
ment be not legitimately at hand. Oh, yes ! I
will escape ! unless," I ejaculated, suddenly in-
terrupting myself, as I was smitten with an ap-
prehension,— '■' unless you are doing this to try
me !"

" No, no," rejoined the man quickly : " you shall
escape ! You have friends outside — your presence
is urgently required elsewhere — but ask me no
questions — be ready at noon — and you shall
escape !"

Having thus spoken, the turnkey hurried from
the chamber : the door was again locked and bolted
upon me— I was once more alone. But, Oh! what
joy now filled my heart, — ^joy at the prospect of
breathing the air of freedom once again ; and yet a
joy which soon became commingled with suspense
almost amounting to an apprehension lest the pro-
ject, whatever it were, should fail. And then, too,
came numberless conjectures. Who were the
friends outside ? why was my presence so urgently
required ? and where ? Were those friends con-
nected with the Secret Societies ? or were they
persons employed by the Duke de Paulin? and
was my presence needed to proclaim all I knew of
the infamy of Cresson the government spy ? But
if so, should I not be walking out of one lion's den
direct into another ? Ah, that thought was selfish !
Oh, to save the young Marquis and the beauteous
Eugenie— and all the rest— if possible !

In feverish suspense passed the time until the
hour of noon ; and then the turnkey made his ap-
pearance,— introducing another individual to my
chamber : and that individual was Lamotte, my
opponent in the late duel. He shook me warmly
by the handj and then in a few hurried words
gave me explanations as to the plan already
concocted for my escape, the service for which I
was required, and the immensely important results
which were certain to ensue. Without an in-
stant's hesitation did I yield my assent to every-
thing ; and then commenced the preliminaries to-
wards the accomplishment of my escape.

It is necessary to observe that Lamotte had
entered the prison under pretence of visiting seme

criminal who was incarcerated in another compart-
ment of the gaol : but my turnkey had stealthily
introduced him into that portion of the edifice
where the captives were kept au secret, or in close
confinement. Lamotte had brought with him
several articles which were requisite for my effec-
tual disguise. In the first instance we changed
clothes ; and as we were pretty nearly of the same
height, and he was but little stouter than I — both
of us being of slender figure — his garments fitted
me well enough. The articles he had brought
with him consisted of a false beard, moustache,
and whiskers : for of the two former my counte-
nance was deficient, and of the last mentioned—
namely, the whiskers — I had but little. Those
succedaneous articles were most admirably con-
trived: they had a perfectly natural appearance,
so great was the artistic skill wherewith they were
fashioned. Lamotte himself affixed them to my
face by means of gum which he had brought with
him in a small phial ; and in less than half-an-hour
the metamorphosis was complete.

Now came the dangerous part of the ordeal :
but ere issuing from the chamber, I could not
help asking the turnkey how ho meant to act in
order to save himself from getting into serious
trouble, as it must inevitably be discovered that
he had connived at my escape.

" If you get clear off," answered the turnkey,
" as I hope and trust you will — I shall not be long
ere I likewise show this place a clean pair of heels.
I shall get into Belgium or Grermany — perhaps
over to England — without delay ; and it will be a
long, long time before I honour France with my
presence again."

From these words I comprehended full well
that the man was very heavily bribed for the part
he was performing — and that the bribe, indeed,
must be of a sufficient amount to indemnify him
fully for the loss of an excellent situation. I
shook hands with Lamotte, who was to remain a
captive in my stead : the turnkey opened the door
— and we issued forth together. The stone pas-
sage was threaded — the door at the extremity
gave me egress— and I began descending the
stairs, the turnkey following at a little distance.
As I glanced back over my shoulder, I saw a cer-
tain degree of agitation depicted on the man's
countenance : but he made me a rapid sign to
proceed, ily heart fluttered : and yet I felt con-
fident that my countenance — or rather as much as
could be seen of it from amidst the artistic patches
of hair — betrayed not the emotion which I ex-
perienced inwardly.

The stairs were descended ; and I entered the
great hall, or vestibule, in the midst of which was
the stone table with the writing materials upon
it. The turnkey, who had now nothing more to do
in respect to my escape, had satisfied himself that
no one perceived me descending from the com-
partment of the prisoners au secret; and he turned
away towards the farther extremity of the hall.
Imitating, as well as I was able, Lamotte's air and
gait — and negligently swinging a cane which he
had brought with him, but which had been trans-
ferred to me — I advanced towards the great iron
gates. This was the moment to be dreaded. If
the turnkey on duty there, retained a too perfect
recollection of my own profile from the view which
he had of it on the day I was brought thither five

JOSEPH WILMOT; OE, THE ME1I0IE3 OF A MAN-SERVANT.

13

weeks back— or if he had particularly regarded
Lamotte's features when ho ere now entered— or
if he had any other cause to suspect the proceed-
ing, all would be over. I confess that my sus-
pense was poignant to a degree, — not so much on
my own account, as because I was now aware of
all the tremendous interests which depended upon
my escape. Lives and liberties were hanging by a
thread which the faintest breath of suspicion on
the part of this one turnkey would in a moment
snap asunder !

I advanced up to the gate ; and with an air as
if perfectly at my ease, I put my hand into my
pocket and drew forth a five-franc piece. I saw
that the turnkey who had come forth from the
little lodge by the side of the gate, was regarding
me attentively : I purposely dropped the coin, so
that as it fell upon the pavement, he might behold
the liberal amount of the fee that was destined to
pass into his own hand. But as I stooped to pick
it up, I heard not, as I hoped, the key turning in
the lock : for I had fancied that the sight of the
five-franc piece would inspire him with most cour-
teous alacrity.

" Tou forgot, monsieur," he said, as a matter of
course addressing me in French, " to write your
name in the book as you entered."

I thought all was lost : for if I gave him an an-
swer, he would at once perceive by my accent that
I was not a Frenchman ; and if I gave him none
at all, my silence would seem equally suspicious.
Fortunately he waited not for any reply, but at
once led the way into his lodge, where he opened
the " visitors' book," and handed me a pen.

" Now," I thought to myself, " if he asks me
who is the prisoner that I came to visit, I shall
betray myself:" — for by an unaccountable over-
sight, or else through ignorance of the forms of
the prison, Lamotte had forgotten to state that I
should have to go through this ordeal — while the
the other turnkey had no doubt fancied that
Lamotte's signature was duly inscribed on his
entrance. However, I wrote the name of Lamotte
in as Frenchified a hand as I could assume, the
turnkey indicating the place with his finger ; and
then pointing to another column in the soiled and
dog's-eared book, he said, " The name of the pri-
soner whom you came to see ?"

Like an inspiration from heaven did a thought
flash to my mind : and I at once wrote down the
name of Dorchester.

The turnkey was perfectly satisfied; and pre-
ceding me to the gate, he thrust the key into the
lock. I slipped the five-franc piece into his hand
— the wicket opened — he lifted his hat to make
me a polite bow — I stepped forth and was outside
the prison.

CHAPTER LXXIX.

THE CHAUBEB OV FEEBS.

It would be impossible to describe the thrilling
sensation of mingled joy and wonderment which
springing from my heart, galvanised my entire
frame as I thus found myself at liberty. I
could scarcely believe it: it appeared something
nfinitely too good to bo true — too marvellous to

be real. The fresh air seemed to intoxicate me :
the sense of liberty was inebriating, like the effect
of strong wine suddenly taken down the throat at
a draught. I remember that my first impulse
was to run madly away from the prison-gate : but
fortunately I checked it at the very moment of its
inception ; and I continued to maintain a careless
lounging air as I passed the sentinel on the quay.
I had my instructions — I thoroughly comprehended
them — and turning into the nearest street, I found,
as I had been led to expect, a hackney-coach wait-
ing. The driver was on his box — some one was
seated inside — but as I approached the door, it was
immediately thrown open. I sprang in — the door
closed quickly again — and the hackney-coach drove
off.

My hand was now warmly grasped by the tall
stout gentleman who had been my second in the
duel with Lamotte ; and he congratulated me
with perfect exultation on the success of the
stratagem.

" We shall be only just in time," he added ;
" for the prisoners are to be had up for sentence
at one o'clock, and it is close upon that hour al-
ready."

" And what think you will be the result ?" I
inquired, with no inconsiderable anxiety.

" Let us hope for the best," responded my com-
panion, who did not now exhibit that cool indif-
ference and indolent nonchalance which he had
shown on the occasion when he was conduct-
ing me to the spot where the duel was to be
fought.

" And am I to appear in this disguise ?" I
asked, raising my hand to my face — thereby indi-
cating the false hair that was upon it.

"Only until the very moment you are about to
enter the Chamber," was the Frenchman's answer :
" tJien you can tear it all off— and if a few marks of
gum remain upon your countenance, it will be no
great matter. But in passing through the throng
of gendarmes that there will be about the place,
it is expedient to preserve your disguise lest they
should recognise you."

The hackney-coach pursued its way to the
Palace of the Luxembourg, which contained the
hall where the Peers of France assembled ; and it
was this same Chamber of Peers which constituted
the tribunal that had tried the prisoners ac-
cused of high treason. The vehicle stopped at the
gate of the Luxembourg — my companion and I
alighted — we traversed the court, which was
thronged with persons of all grades and classes,
who were waiting for intelligence of the sentences
about to be pronounced upon the prisoners : for
the trial, as the reader may suppose, had produced
an immense excitement, — and all the more so in-
asmuch as the youthful son and heir of the Duke
de Paulin, as well as the young and beautiful
Eugenie Delacour, were amongst those who were
now in the presence of that august tribunal to re-
ceive judgment. My companion and I had some
little difficulty in making our way through the
crowd: but at length we reached the main en-
trance of the palace. On the steps, and beneath
the portico, there were numerous gendarmes :
my heart palpitated violently — but we experienced
no molestation. We entered the hall, where there
were more gendarmes ; and these were conversing
with ushers, messengers, and other officials.

14.

JOSEPH WIIMOT; OR, THB MEMOISS OP A JIAN-SERTANI.

" Your tickets, gontlemea?" said one of these.

My companion produced two cards ; and we
were told to pass on. We ascended the magnifi-
cent marble staircase, where there was an array of
soldiers on each side, ready to present arms to
every one who came in a Peer's uniform. On
gaining the summit of that staircase we passed
through two or three rooms ; and on reaching a
small ante-chamber, which happened to be unoc-
cupied, my companion said, " You may now divest
yourself of these :" — and he indicated the false
beard, whiskers, and moust-.iche.

I speedily followed his counsel; and as there
•weve conveniences for ablution in a corner of this
ante-chamber, I hastily dipped a towel in water
and applied it to my face : for the gum, now that
the false hair was torn off, produced a most un-
comfortable sensation.

" Come 1" said my friend : and we issued from
the ante-chamber.

Emerging into a passage, my companion was
about to draw aside a large heavy red curtain with
a gold fringe, which covered a doorway — when a
gendarme abruptly made his appearance ; and in a
moment I recognised him to be one of those who
had removed me from the Prefecture to the Con-
ciergerie. I saw too that the recognition was
mutual : for the man literally staggered back in
amazement. I lost not however my presence of
mind : for never was it more wanted '

" "What means this ?" demanded the police-
official, recovering his own self-possession almost
as speedily as I had regained mine : and he seized
me by the arm.

" He is wanted here," said my companion : " or
else how do you think that he could be in this
place ?"

"True!" saiA. the gendm^me : and at the same
instant my arm was released from his gripe.

My companion pushed me forward — the curtain
was drawn back — a door covered with red cloth,
rolled noiselessly on its hinges — and I found my-
self in the Chamber of Peers.

It was a large semicircular ball, handsomely
fitted up. In the middle of the line cutting off
the semicircle, was an elevated platform richly
carpeted, and reached by a flight of steps on either
side. In an arm-chair on this platform, the
Chancellor of France was seated in his robes at a
desk: immediately in front of him, but a little
lower than the desk, was the tribune from which
the Peers were accustomed to speak. The benches
rose amphitheatrically and in semicircles from the
front of this tribune, towards the farther ex-
tremity. The front bench was occupied by about
thirty prisoners, being those who were arresteii on
the memorable night at the meeting-place, — the
remaining persons who were present on that ocsa-
sion, having contrived to effect their escape in the
confusion created by the desperate scuffling in the
midst of which, be it recollected, I had been borne
away. And amongst these prisoners my glance at
once singled out Eugenie Delacour— and the next
moment the Marquis de Paulin : for they were
seated together. All the other benches were occu-
pied by the Peers in their uniforms ; and the
galleries were thronged with spectators— most of
them by their appearance pertaining to the higher
order of society. I must add that in the small
J open space between the front of the tribune and

the seat occupied by the prisoners, a long table
had been temporarily placed; and this was for tho
accommodation of tho counsel engaged in behalf
of the accused. The door by which my com-
panion and myself had just entered, opened close
by the presidential seat ; and as there was a throng
of ushers, gendarmes, and other officials imme-
diately inside, we became for the first few mo-
ments mingled amongst them, so that we were not
at once perceived by any of the prisoners.

At the instant we thus entered, the barrister
whom the Duke de Paulin had engaged for the de-
fence of his son, was addressing the President ;
and as he spoke in a clear, deliberate, measured
manner, I caught and perfectly comprehended
what he was saying.

'•' I object to sentence being pronounced on my
client," were the words thus caught, " because I
repeat what I urged on a former occasion — that
he has not received a fair trial. A witness of
most material consequence was spu-ited away — a
young Englishman, who, though himself impli-
cated in the general charge, could have thrown
such light on the foul proceedings of the spy
Cresson, that the law-officers of the Crown would
never have d-.red sustain a prosecution on the
testimony of the government's dastard hireling."

" I cannot permit you," interrupted the Presi-
dent, " thus to attack the witness Cresson, who
denied upon oath the imputation of having with
his own hands conveyed the arms and ammunition
to the place of meeting."

"Remain here one moment," said my com-
panion to me in a hurried whisper : and leaving
me amidst the throng just within the red door,
he advanced towards the table and spoke a few
words in a low tone to the barrister.

'■ Monsieur le President," the legal gentleman
almost immediately went on to say, " I have now
the best possible reason in the world for objecting
to sentence being pronounced upon my client, — a
reason, too, which every other counsel at this table
will witli equal justice advance on behalf of their
own clients. And the reason is, Monsieur le
President, that tho missing Englishman must be
produced — Joseph Wilmot must stand forward to
give his testimony. The law officers of the Crown
have not chosen to include his name in the indict-
ment— he is therefore eligible as a witness — and I

summon him — he will stand forward he is

here !"

No pen can describe the immensity of the
sensation which suddenly prevailed within the hall
of the Luxembourg, as the barrister, with his fine
sonorous voice swelling exultingly as he went on,
gave utterance to those last words. At the same
moment, too, I stood forward from amidst the
group at the door : I advanced to the table — and
all in an instant many phases of interest were pre-
sented to my vision. I saw the quick start which
galvanised all the prisoners — I beheld the rapid
looks of joy and mutual congratulation which
were exchanged by Eugenie and Theobald— I ob-
served, as my eyes swept round, the astonishment
which seized upon the Chancellor of France — I
observed also the utter discomfiture which smote
the quailing Cresson, who was seated on a bench
just beneath the tribune. As for my own feelings,
they were as completely beyond description as the
general sensation itself was. The Peers were for

JOSEtH WILilOT; OH, TdE MEMOIES OF A MAN-3ERVAN i'.

15

the most part leaning forward in their seats to
Cfttch a glimpse of rae : others were standing up,
having thus started to their feet ; — and a glance
xround the galleries, showed me that there the
sensation was not less. All in a moment I had
become the focus for countless regards ; and yet I
felt not confused — there was within me a sense of
proud heroism in the consciousness of coming
boldly forward to perform a sacred duty.

'•You must examine your witness,'' said the
President, thus addressing himself to the barrister
after more than a minute's pause : and when he
had thus spoken, so profound a silence pervaded
the hall, that a pin might have been heard to
drop.

" I will examine the witness through an inter«
prefer. Monsieur le President," said the barrister :
"for though I believe he is tolerably well ac-
quainted with the French language, — yet in so
serious a matter, it will be preferable that he
should not trust to idioms and forms of speech less
familiar to him than those of his native tongue."

An interpreter was promptly found, and was
duly sworn to translate my evidence faithfully.
My examination then commenced ; and I ex-
plained, through the interpreter, how I had visited
the gunsmith's shop by the Duke de Paulin's order
• — how I had seen Cresson speaking to the gen-
darine, and had heard him utter the phrase, " It is
for to-night" — how he had repeated the same
words to the gunsmith himself — how he had re-
ceived a large parcel, which was evidently of no
inconsiderable weigiit — how he had paid a thou-
sand francs (£40) for the same — how I had recog-
nised him again iu the evening at the secret
meeting— how at the Prefecture I had examined
the pistols and the powder-flasks alleged to have
been found at that meeting, and how I discovered
that they bore the name of the very gunsmith of
whom I had been speaking. At the conclusion of
my evidence —and indeed at several points of it —
there was a strong sensation amongst the spec-
tators in the galleries, as if they were indignant at
the means tlius adi pted by the government,
through the aid of an execrable hireling, to make
out capital charges against a number of indi-
viduals. But that sensation was far stronger
amongst the prisoners themselves; and the Pre-
sident of the CliambiT appeared to be so dispirited
by the turn given to the proceedings, that ho did
not even venture to utter a syllable in suppression
of those evidences of strong feeling.

The barrister engaged on behalf of the Marquis
de Pauliu, continued to question me; and now it
was to elicit from my lips how I had been spirited
suddenly away from the Prefecture, and kept au
secret at the Conciergerie until within the last two
hoars;— and when I had concluded, he said with a
significant smile, '•' We wiLi not ask you how you
escaped : it is sufficient for our purpose that you
are here."

A Peer now rose in bis place, and said, " I de-
mand. Monsieur le President, that the Chamber
be put in a position to re-consider its decision of
' guilty of high treason ' against the prisoners."

As my e\es fell upon that Peer, 1 observed that
he was the Fielil-Morshal, the Duchess de Paulin's
father. Scarcely had he resumed uis seat, or
the President had time to utter a word, when the
red door by which I had entered, again, opened ;

and the Duke de Paulin made his appearance,
accompanied by the gunsmith of the Ivuc de la
Paix. I should observe that the Duke was not a
Peer of France : for the members of the Chamber
of Peers in Louis-Philippe's time sat not by virtue
of hereditary right, nor by the fact of possessing
titles — but were created by the King himself.
Though the Duke de Paulin was not therefore a
Peer, yet every one present knew him ; and his
sudden appearance renewed the sensation which
my testimony had previously occasioned. The
rumour had already spread outside the walls that
an important witness, having escaped from the
Conciergerie, was giving his evidence ; and the
Duke de Paulin, having just heard the same
rumour, was at no loss to conjecture who' the
escaped prisoner was : and he therefore tcstiCod no
astonishment on beholding me. Bat if he dis-
played not surprise, his countenance on the other
hand evidenced hope and satisfaction ; and he has-
tened to confer for a few minutes with the bai'-
rister. During this interval I observed that
Cresson — who had hitherto been sitting with his
face bent downward, as if iu mingled shame and
gloomy sullenness — was taking advantage of the
interest excited by the Duke de Pauliu's presence
to steal towards a door on the other side of the
tribune. To this fact I hastily directed the atten.
tion of the barrister, — who accordingly ro.se up,
and addressing the Chancellor, said, '• Monsieur le
President, I demand th.at the government witness
Cresson be detained ; as I shall be enabled to prove
incontestably — even if it be not already done— that
he has perjured himself."

The President was compelled to order a ^02-
darme to keep his eye on Cresson : but the pre-
siding functionary issued the mandate with a very
bad grace : he was evidently uneasy, as well as
half bewildered — he felt_ the paintulness of his
position —and he now occupied his seat without
dignity either personal or moral.

" Monsieur ie President," continued the bar-
rister, '■' you will perhaps recollect that in my
speech for the defence of my client on the occa-
sion of the trial a few days back, I stated that not
only the young Englishman who is now before us,
had been disposed of by the government so as to
prevent his testimony from being heard -but that
the gunsmith likewise had been induced to secrete
himself. I moreover stated that the Duko de
Paulin had instituted the most rigorous search to
discover the gunsmith. That search failed. But
the gunsmith has no longer been able to reconcile
it with his conscience to refrain from giving his
testimony in a matter affecting the lives of so
many of his fellow creatures. He has therefore
voluntarily emerged from his place of conceal-
ment, and he repaired just now to the Duke de
Pauhn's mansion. He is here — and I shall pro-
ceed to examine him."

Tbei-e was a renewed sensation at the close of
the barrister's speech ; and the gunsmith having
been sworn, deposed to the following effect : —

He had known Cresson for a considerable time.
About three months back, Cresson had called and
given him an order for a certain quantity of pistols
and ammunition. Not thinking that Cresson was
in a condition to pay ready money for the goods,
the gunsmith hesitated : wherupon Cresson gave
him to understand that ho was secretly employed

16

JOSEPH ■mLMOT; OE, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT,

by the governtnent, and that it was intended to
use the arms in a particular way the result of
which would be the uprooting of the secret
societies throughout France. The gunsmith de-
clared that it was not so much the desire for gain
which had induced him, on this representation, to
undertake the order, as it was his wish to see a
blow struck that would intimidate the secret con-
spirators and break up their organization. Cresson
had told him that by the aid of an old woman who
was charged with the duty of sweeping and
cleansing the meeting-room, he should be enabled
to enter the place before the members assembled
on the particular night in question, and that he
would take that opportunity of secreting his par-
cel of pistols and ammunition underneath the
platform. The gunsmith farther deposed that he
had been induced to keep out of the way since the
arrest of the prisoners, in consequence of a mes-
sage from the Prefect of Police ; but that, as the
barrister had already stated, his conscience would
no longer permit him to remain absent or silent
while human lives were trembling in the balance.

So soon as this deposition was made, the Pre-
sident exclaimed, "The Chamber will deliberate
with closed doors !"

This was a signal for all strangers to withdraw.
The crowds began to pour forth from the galleries
— the prisoners were removed in the custody of
gendarmes : — witnesses and barristers — every one
indeed who was not a member of the Cliamher of
Peers, was compelled to retire. I should observe
that no restraint was put upon me : although I
had escaped from prison, no order was issued to
take me into custody again : I was not even put
under the surveillance of the gendarmes ; and this
circumstance appeared a good augury for the
result of the proceedings, inasmuch as it was toler-
ably evident that the President of the Chamber
dared not any farther outrage public opinion by a
fresh measure of coercion and injustice. I accom-
panied the Duke de Paulin, the barrister, the gun-
smith, and my tall French friend into the ante-
chamber,— where I explained to the Duke the par-
ticulars of my escape. He himself was confident
as to the result of the deliberation with closed
doors — and all the more so because he knew that
his father-in-law the Field-Marshal, who was a
personage of considerable influence, would urge
upon his brother Peers the necessity of completely
revoking the verdict to which, as it appeared, an
immense majority of them had come on the occa-
sion of the trial.

In about half-an-hoiu: the barrister engaged for
the Marquis de Paulin, was sent for into the
Chamber ; and after a brief interval, all the other
counsel employed for the prisoners, were sum-
moned thither likewise. As I afterwards learnt,
the President proposed to them a compromise
with the view of saving the dignity of the Cham-
ber and the honour of the Government as much as
possible, and of avoiding any additional scandal in
respect to the whole proceeding. It was proposed,
on the one hand, that a full and complete acquittal
should be pronounced in respect to all the pri-
soners, "on the ground that the principal witness
against them — nam?ly, Cresson — had committed
the foulest perjury; but that, on the other hand,
the counsel for the prisoners should abstain from a
criminal prosecution against this witness. Fur-

thermore it was proposed that no notice should be
taken of my escape from prison ; nor should any
individuals who had connived or assisted thereat,
be visited by law-proceedings : — while, on the other
hand, the endeavour should be to hush up as much
as possible all the circumstances regarding myself
as well as the gunsmith, and such a complexion
should be given to the turn which the proceedings
had taken, that it should be made to appear before
the world as if the detection of Cresson's perjury,
by other and simpler means, had alone led to the
acquittal of the prisoners. This much was stipu-
lated for the purpose of rescuing the government
from the odium which would attach to it if it were
generally known that one witness was kept away
by being placed att, secret, and that means were
adopted to procure the voluntary absence of an-
other. Such was the basis of the proposals made
to the barristers ; and *in the interest of their
clients they thought it better to accede to them :
for if they pushed matters to an extreme, they
would leave those clients open to a severe punish-
ment on the second count in the indictment, which
charged them with illegally meeting in secret —
the first count being the one for high treason.

The result therefore was that the Chamber of
Peers, revoking its former decision, pronounced a
general verdict of acquittal ; and with much form
and ceremony the President ordered Cresson to be
committed to gaol to take his trial for perjury.
But though I never subsequently learnt how the
man was diposed of, there can be little doubt he
was promptly set at liberty, and his pockets being
well lined with the government's money, he was
either sent out of the country, or else ordered to
take another name and establish his abode in some
place rejiote from the metropolis. Lamotte, who
had remained a captive in my stead, was restored
to freedom : but whether the turnkey who con-
nived at my escape, ran away from Paris — or
whether finding that the storm so quickly blew
over, he remained in the metropolis— I cannot
say.

In respect to the closing act of the great drama
in the Chamber of Peers, it was glossed over in the
public newspapers in a manner perfectly agreeable
to the wishes of the President — a circumstance
which must not startle my English readers, when
I inform them that the press was almost as com-
pletely at the mercy of Louis-Philippe as it has
since been at that of Louis Napoleon. Thus, if
any print had ventured to speak out too plainly
on the subject, it would have been seized at its
own office, as well as stopped in its passage through
the post, — while such few numbers as might
have already gotten into circulation, would have
been bought up by the police. My name did not
appear in a single newspaper ; and I found that it
had not been mentioned in the first instance when
the journals published their accounts of the arrests
at the secret meeting. The Marquis de Paulin's
barrister, in his speech at the trial, had alluded to
me merely as "a young Englishman, who bemg
more or less implicated, was captured with the
others, but who had been disposed of by the govern-
ment with a view to the suppression of certain im-
portant evidence he was enabled to give." I sub-
sequently found, too, that the reports in the
English newspapers were exceedingly meagre, de-
ficient, and incorrect, — which however was not to

JOKEFU -WIT-MO r ; OIJ, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SBBVAN"

]7

be wondered at, when it is considered that the
Parisian correspondents of the London journals
relied upon French newspapers for their infor-
mation with regard to the case. I have been thus
careful — though perhaps somewhat wearisome and
prolix— in noting all these facts, in order to show
how it was that my name did not once transpire in
connexion with the entire transactions, through the
medium of either French or British prints; and
thus those who knew me in England, remained in
total ignorance of the strange and eventful ordeal
through which I had passed.

CHAPTEE LXXX.

THE rOVEES.

It may be easily supposed that I received the
cordial thanks of the released prisoners generally
65

— but of the Marquis de Paulin and Eugenie
Delacour especially— for the important service I
rendered them on effecting my escape. On re-
turning to the mansion, I likewise received the
felicitations of all my fellow-servants there ; and
the Duke de Paulin, after lecturing me on having
involved myself in the affairs of his son and
Mademoiselle Delacour, conjured me to be more
cautious for the future. Thus, so far as I was con-
cerned, I soon relapsed into my former routine of
existence, — with this difference perhaps, that the
young Marquis de Paulin took every opportunity
not merely of demonstrating a kind feeling, but
likewise one of friendship. Thus, whenever we
fell in each other's way, and found ourselves alone
together, he conversed with me on past occurrences,
as well as upon the political principles which he
had imbibed at the meeting, and to which he clung
with all the fervour of his enthusiastic dis-
position.

Occasionally, too, the Marquis spoke to me of

18

uOSEPH WIXMOT; OE, THE MEMOIHS OF A MAH-SBETANT.

Mademoiselle Delacour— but alwajs with a certaiu
degree of sadness. He treated me with the fullest
confidence, and made me aware of how the love-
matter stood. It appeared that his father the
Duke was somewhat inclined to yield to the
youth's entreaties that he might be permitted to
regard Eugenie as his affianced bride — but that
bis mother the Duchess was inexorable upon the
subject. In this feeling she was supported by
her father the Marshal, to whose opinion she
alwajs exhibited great deference, but especially so
in a matter where her own sentiments were already
so completely in the same cliannel. The Marshal
and the Duchess regarded Theobald's infatuation
for Eugenie Delacour as the cause of the terrific
dilemma from which he had just escaped; and they
conceived that he had brought down an almost
indelible disgrace on the name which he bore, by
having become compromised with secret con-
spirators. There was another grievous cause of
offence on Theobald's part in the eyes of his
mother and his grandfather, and this was his
decisive refusal to pen a letter to the newspapers
declaring that he only went to the meeting
through cui-iosity, and that he entertained not the
slightest sympathy with the opinions he there
heard enunciated. Republican doctrines were
odious and abominable in the estimation of the
proud Duchess and of her monarchy -loving father ;
but Theobald was too high-minded to repudiate
Ecutiments which he had learnt to admire, and
which indeed he now cherished as fervently as did
Mademoiselle Delacour herself.

All the same sentimeuts which influenced the
veteran Marshal and the Duchess in the view
■which they took of Theobald's conduct, were like-
wise shared by the Duke de Paulin, — but with
this material difference, that he was inclined to
make allowances for his son, to regard his pro-
ceedings with forbearance and his position with
svmpiithy. In a long conference, he questioned
Tbeobald as to the real state of his heart in
respect to Eugenie Delacour, and finding that the
youth loved the beauteous maiden so fervidly, the
Duke was inclined to make some sacrifice of his
own prejudices, opinions, and wishes in order to
secure his son's happiness. Thus he supported
Theobald's ardent wish that his engagement with
Euj^enie should be recognised, and that the old
banker — her undo — should be communicated with
on the subject. But on the other hand, the
Duchess de Paulin would not hear of such a pro-
position ; and in this resolve she was firmly backed
by her father, the Marshal, who in consequence of
all these things, was now a daily visitor at the
mansion. Scenes of some violence took place
between the Duke on the one hand and his wife
and her father on the other; and these scenes were
of a character which could not escape the know-
ledge of the domestics. It was known, too, that
the Duchess insisted upon Theobald being sent back
to the German university for a year or two: but
the Duke would not consent to this step. The
Duke had, however, obtained a promise from his
son, that he would not again seek to obtain
clandestine interviews with Mademoiselle Delacour
until something decisive was settled ; and the youth
— feelingj grateful for his father's advocacy of his
wishes, hopes, and aspirations — conceived himself
bound to act in accordance with that sire's counsel.

The reader may well imagine how afllicting this
state of things was to a youth of Theobald's gene-
rous heart, keen susceptibility, and high spirit.
He loved his parents devotedly — and he beheld
them at warfare on his account : he knew that
scenes of violence frequentl-^ occurred between
them — and he deeply, deeply felt that he was the
cause. But what could he do ? Renounce Eugenie
Delacour ? No — a sense of honour, a regard for
her happiness, and the solemn conviction that bis
own was likewise bound up in their mutual love,
forbade him from putting an end to those sad
parental conflicts by a deed of voluntary perfidious-
ness and deliberate infidelity towards the charming
and adored Eugenie. But still it was impossible
that matters could continue in their present stale :
it was the demoralization of an entire family
which was involved — the disruption of all the most
sacred elements of cohesion — the rending asunder
of all the most solemn bonds of union. Theobald's
countenance gresv visibly paler day by day— his
look more profoundly sad and mournful. All the
domestics pitied him sincerely — but no one more
than myself. He frequently asked mo if in my
rambles I ever beheld Mademoiselle Delacour ; and
I noticed that every time I answered in the
negative, the sadness of his countenance deepened :
but he proffered no request upon the point, —
though I perfectly well utidersiood that in his
heart he wished I were enabled to respond other-
wise and deliver to him some tender message from
the object of his love. But I did not think it
becoming on my part to volunteer such an office ;
therefore I remained silent, — though it cut me to
the very quick to behold that interesting youth
thus pining away visibly.

One day— about six weeks after my emancipa-
tion from the Conciergerie — I was proceeding
along the Boulevards, when I beheld Mademoiselle
Eugenie issuing forth from a shop and about to
enter a carriage which was waiting. She herself
was pale — she looked ill — and there was a deep
despondency in her air : but the moment she be-
held me, her looks brightened up somewhat ; and
proffering her hand with a modest aiTability, she
addressed me in a way which proved that after all
that had occurred she regarded me as a friend, and
that the conventional distinction of social grades
and positions were in her estimation as naught
under such circumstances.

" Dare I ask you concerning the Marquis ?" she
said hesitatingly and tremblingly, and yet with a
world of mingled hope and suspense in her
looks.

To have deceived her as to the youth's real con-
dition would have been tantamount to letting her
believe that he bore their separation with com-
parative indifference ; and I felt that this would
be even more cruel than to acquaint her with the
actual truth. 1 therefore answered in a saddened
tone, " The Marquis de Faulin is much changed.

Mademoiselle : he pines in secret aye, and

more — his aflliction is only too visible !"

The tears started into Eugenie's eyes, and the
folds of her elegant shawl rose and fell with the
silent but not the less convulsing sob which agi-
tated her bosom. For a few moments she could
not give utterancs to a word ; and then she said
in a broken voice, " And I too have suffered deeply
— deeply! I know that he has promised his

JOSEPH WIIMOT; OB, THE SIEilOrRS OP A KAN-SEBYAXT.

19

father not to see me for the present — I know too j " Would it be too much to ask you to make mo
that the Duke is taking his part against the acquainted with the result?" inqiaired Made-
Duchess : for the Alarquis penned me a last note ' moiselle Delacour, again speaking timidly and
to tell me all this at the time that he gave his sii-e \ hesitatingly.

the pledge demanded. Shall you tell him that i " ilost cheerfully will I do whatsoever I can
you have seen me ?" she asked hesitatingly and to serve you, ilademoiselle," was my response,
bashfully. [ '' You may come to me at my uncle's house,"

'• Most certainly," I replied : for I knew what j she rejoined ; " I am completely mistress there —
she wished my response to be. and my kind-hearted old relative puts no restraint

'•■ Tell him to hope — as I also hope !" resumed upon me."
Mademoiselle Delacour. ""We are both very,' I promised to fulGl the young lady's wishes in
very young— I fear too young to think of mar- ! all things: she bade me farewell, and entered her
riage ; and though it is hard to be separated, yet j carriage, which immediately drove off. But just
was this calamity to be foreseen. I fear, Mr. I as I turned away, I caught a glimpse of Adolphe
"Wilmot, that there is now much trouble, even if hastening round a corner at a little distance,
not actual strife, within the walls of a mansion 1 This individual, be it recollected, was principal
where all ought to be harmony and peace ?" valet to the Duchess ; and I had the best possible

"Alas, it is indeed so !" I responded: for I saw reasons for knowing that he was her spy. The

no necessity to deceive the young lady on any
single point : indeed her own good sense would

thought of again having a watch set upon my
proceedings had long been absent from my mind :

have naturally raised true conjectures in juxta- but now I felt convinced that I was watched anew
position with any false representation on my part. — and most probably because the Duchess fancied
" I regret to inform you. Mademoiselle, that it is I that after I had been so mixed up in the love-
a house divided in itself — a family split into two i affiiirs of her son, I should possibly be employed
sections ! and if this state of things lasts, the hap- , by him in delivering notes and messages to Made-
piness of the whole will not be merely wrecked, moiselle Delacour. Therefore, on my return to

but scandal will become busy with the name of
Paulin."

" Then let Theobald act with energy !" at once
exclaimed Eugenie, her countenance suddenly as-
suming- an air which showed that she was resolved

the mansion after extending my ramble as far as
I thought fit, I was quite prepared for a summons
to the presence of the Duchess. Dfor was I mis-
taken: for the moment I reached the gate, the
porter gave me to understand that I was to proceed

to usu all her own energies to meet the emergency j at once to the apartments of my noble mistress.
in a becoming manner." •'•! know the character] I obeyed the mandate — and found the Duchess
of the Duchess, though I am not personally ac- \ alone. Her countenance was severe ; and the in-
quaintcd with her: she is inexorable — she will not | stant I appeared in her presence, she said to me,
yield at present — and she is doubtless supported j " You are acting as a go-between on the part of
by her father, who carries all the sternness and my son and Mademoiselle Delacour."
severity of military discipline into the private af- ' "I am perfectly well aware, Madame la
fairs of life. Let Theobald absent himself from Duchesse," I responded, firmly though respect-
home for a time — let him return to Germany : we fully, '•' upon what ground this accusation is flung

are already separated — and if we be forbidden to
meet, as well were it to find ourselves hundreds of
miles as only a few streets asunder. Tell him,
Mr. Wilmot, that his departure from home will be
the only means of preventing a complete breach

out against me. But I deny it: and were I not
in the presence of a lady — and that lady too the
mistress of the household— I should add that I
deny the charge with indignation."

'Insolent young man !" cried the Duchess, be-

between his parents ; and that is a catastrophe to ; coming crimson with rage. '"' But doubtless you
be averted by almost any sacrifice. We must : are backed in your presumptuous conduct by your
trust to circumstances — we must put our faith in ' master the Duke. What airs are these you dare
heaven. I feel that we were born for each other: , give yourself P The same person," she added with
the same sentiment which inspires us both, must i bitter sarcasm, " who bore letters from the Duke
make him entertain the same idea; and therein [ to his mistress, would scarcely scruple to play a
will be his consolation — for he may rest assured similar part between others."

that whatsoever Providence has willed, will be I felt that the Duchess had some reason for
wrought out by its own inscrutable means. Yes i flinging this taunt at me; and I blushed in my
— for although the experiences of life have hitherto , turn— but it was not with rage, it was with
led us to regard it as a tangled web, yet through , shame ; and at that instant I experienced a bitter
the woof there runs the golden thread of hope : and ! annoyance with myself at having consented on that
why should we despair ?" second occasion to bear the Duke's missive to

i was deeply touched by the young lady's Ian- Mademoiselle Ligny.
guage, as sensible as it was pathetic; and in the 1 "Madame la Duchesse," I said, recovering my
counsel which she sought to convey through me ! self-possession, " I implore you to believe me when
to Theobald, I beheld additional evidences of that I I declare that since that memorable day in the
strength of mind and high intelligence which were , Chamber of Peers, I have never seen Mademoiselle
united with so many feminine graces. ' Delacour until this afternoon. My meeting with

"Rest assured. Mademoiselle," I said, "that 1 that young lady was purely accidental "

every word to which you have just been giving [ " And it was accidental, I presume," added the
utterance, shall find its way to the ears of Mon- ] Duchess, " that you remained in conversation with
sieur le Marquis. Indeed, your advice is excel- j her for a quarter of an hour ?"
lent ; and coming from such a source, I have not ! " I see that Adolphe has been very precise in
the slightest doubt it will be followed." | his information to you, Madame la Duchesse :" —

20

JOSEPH WILMOT; OB, THE MEMOIES OF A MAN-SERVANT.

and I could not help thus making her aware that
I knew her valet to be a spy upon my actions.
" But inasmuch as Adolphe could not have ac-
quainted you with the discourse which took place
between Mademoiselle Delacour and myself, — I
will repeat it, Madame la Duchesse, if you per-
mit me :" — for indeed I thought that so far from
there being any necessity to make a secret of
our discourse, it was one which did Eugenie so
much honour that if anything could at all move
the Duchess towards her, it would be the judicious
counsel she had given.

There was perhaps an air of such sincerity in
my countenance as I spoke, that the Duchess felt
1 was not in any way deceiving her ; and she at
once bade me proceed — nor did she utter another
taunting expression.

'■ Mademoiselle Delacour," I continued, " begged
me to recommend to Monsieur le Marquis that he
should without delay absent himself from home
and return to the German University."

The Duchess contemplated me earnestly as I
thus spoke ; and evidently believing me, she said,
'•■ And do you purpose to repeat that message to
my son ?"

"It assuredly was my purpose, Madame la
Duchesse," I answered.

"Then go!" she immediately rejoined: and
when, having bowed, I approached the door, she
added, "Perhaps you will for once obey an in-
struction issued from mi/ lips, and abstain from
mentioning that I have questioned you upon these
subjects ?"

" I am not aware, Madame la Duchesse, that I
have ever proved disobedient to any commands
which you have been pleased to issue : and there-
fore I certainly shall not disobey on the present
occasion."

Having thus spoken, I issued from the apart-
ment, and proceeded in search of the young Mar-
quis, whom I presently found in the garden. I
communicated to him the particulars of my inter-
view with Mademoiselle Delacour, and repeated all
the advice which she had transmitted through me.

"Admirable Eugenie!" exclaimed the fervid
Theobald, his countenance kindling with anima-
tion : "■ the slightest syllable from thy lips is a
command for me ! Yes, Joseph, it is indeed the
only course to be pursued — and I will adopt it.
My mother has already insisted that this very
plan should be carried out ; and if my father has
hitherto strenuously opposed it, it was only be-
cause he thought it would be implacably coercive
towards myself. But when I beseech his consent,
he will yield it. Yea — it is the only course to be
adopted," repeated the young Marquis in a musing
strain. " Two or three years will soon pass away
— and when my mother finds that my heart is as
fondly devoted as ever to the adorable Eugenie,
she may possibly relent. At all events my absence
from home will put an end to these dreadful scenes
on the part of my parents, — scenes which though
now only intermittent, might in time take the
form of a settled animosity. I will go to my
father at once, and beseech his assent."

About a couple of hours afterwards, I met
Amelie — the Duchess's principal lady's-maid — in
the upper servants' hall ; and as we happened to
be alune there at the time, she hesitated not to
speak confidentially.

"There has been another dreadful sccae on the
part of the Duke and Ducliess," she said ; " and I
could not help overhearing it : I was in the inner
room when it occurred. The Duke burst in and
accused the Duchess of having been secretly per-
suading the Marquis to leave home : she indig-
nantly denied it ; and I am sure that she was
right — for I know her manner so well. But tho
Duke was heated — and he persisted in the ac-
cusation— so that the Duchess at length told him
plainly he was uttering a falsehood. He literally
cried out with rage : and then the Duchess taunted
him bitterly with his love-affair in respect to
Mademoiselle Ligny — and she said something,
too, about a terrible secret that she knew con-
cerning him "

" Ah ! she said that ?" I ejaculated, instanta-
neously smitten with the conviction that tho
Duchess had alluded to the affair of the ruined
castle on the Ehine.

" Yes — she said that," responded Amelie, sur-
veying me with astonishment. "But what do
you know in respect to that secret ?"

" Nothing, nothing, I can assure you," I hastily
answered : " only it struck me as strange that the
Duchess should so far forget herself as to make
ungenerous allusion to any secret which may sub-
sist between husband and wife."

" It was ungenerous," observed Amelie : " but
I must tell you that the effect was instantaneous
— for I heard the Duke implore the Duchess to
remember that he was her husband. He then
apologised for his violence towards her ; and ulti-
mately consented that the Marquis should leave
the house to-morrow and return to Germany. He
then quitted the room — and Madame la Duchesse
almost immediately afterwards left it also."

"And thus," I said, "your presence in the
adjacent chamber remained unsuspected ?"

"Precisely so," rejoined Amelie ; "and I assure
you I was very glad — for I felt myself to be in an
exceedingly awkward position: I would not have
remained there a moment if there had been an-
other means of egress."

" The proper plan, Amelie," I said, in a tone
of remonstrance, "' would have been for you to
come forth the instant you heard that the Duke
and Duchess were about to converse on privute
matters."

" Ah ! it is very easy for you, Joseph," exclaimed
Amelie, " to read me a lecture : but you should
make allowances, and picture to yourself how I
felt on hearing the Duke burst into tho chamber
in that violent manner. Indeed, he and his wife
were deep in the midst of accusations and recrimi-
nations before I had time to collect my thoughts
or recover from the dismay into which I was
thrown."

At this moment other domestics entered the
servants' haO, and our conversation terminated.

On the following morning the Marquis de Paulin
sought me in my own chamber, and placing a
letter in my hand, he said, " I am about to depart.
At first my father would not hear of it : ho would
have it that I had been over-persuaded by my
mother — and I could not convince him of the con-
trary: but after an interview with my mother, he
seemed satisfied, and gave his assent to my depar-
ture. You told me that you had promised to
communicate the result to Mademoiselle Delacour:

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OE, THE MKMOIKS 07 A MAN-SERVANT.

21

may I beseech you to place that letter in her
hands ? It ia written with the full concurrence of
my father — but on the express condition that dur-
ing my absence from home, whether it be long or
short, I will not again correspond with her. My
father has exacted from me a pledge to this effect
— and I will keep it. I feel more tranquil in my
mind now that I am going away : I am fulfilling
Eugenie's wish— and I implore heaven that my
absence may give back peace and tranquillity be-
neath this roof. And now, Joseph, farewell. I
entertain for you the warmest feelings of gratitude
and friendship "

But the youthful Marquis could not give utter-
ance to another word — his voice was broken with
sobs — he was profoundly affected. He wrung my
hand — and burst from the room. The travelling-
carriage was in readiness ; and within a quarter of
an hour he took his departure.

In the forenoon of that same day the Duchess
de Paulin left the mansion— attended by Adolphe,
Amelie, and Plorine — to pay another visit to her
father's country-seat. I was by no means sorry at
this occurrence, inasmuch as I felt that I could
acquit myself of my mission towards Mademoiselle
Delacour without the fear of having my actions
again espied. I proceeded to the residence of the
banker ; and on inquiring for Mademoiselle Dela-
cour, was informed that she was exceedingly ill
and confined to her bed. This announcement took
me with surprise indeed, as it was only on the
previous day that I had seen her ; and though she
had looked pale and desponding, yet it had not
for a moment occurred to me that her health was
so threatened. I learnt that on returning home
after having been out shopping in the carriage,
she was seized with fainting fits, and that for some
hours her condition had inspired the utmost alarm.
Ultimately, however, the physicians had declared
that the crisis was over — she had passed a tolerably
good night — and though still seriously ill, was no
longer considered to be in danger.

I delivered the letter to one of Mademoiselle
Delacour's maids, from whose lips T had received
the above intelligence ; and the girl requested me
to wait for a few minutes. This I did : and when
she re-appeared, she said, "Mademoiselle desires me
to thank you for your attention ; and she begs you
not to communicate the circumstance of her illness,
should you have occasion to write to the person-
age from whom that letter came."

I gave an assurance to that eflfect; and as I
slowly and mournfully retraced my way to the
mansion, I pondered on the young lady's illness,
which I had no difficulty in ascribing to the grief
she must have experienced on learning from my
lips on the preceding day how much Theobald felt
his separation from her, and how he was distressed
by the scenes which had been occurring at
home.

CHAPTER LXXXI.

THE SPY ADOLPHE.

The Duchess remained absent for about a fort-
night,—during which interval the Duke was con-
stantly away from home ; and as he did not go out
in his carriage nor on horseback, I could not help

thinking that his visits were paid to Mademoiselle

One morning — it was the day before the return
of the Duchess — the Duke went out somewhat
earlier than usual — indeed immediately after
breakfast ; and I availed myself of the opportu-
nity to take a long ramble round the Boulevards.
As I was proceeding along — being now at a con-
siderable distance from the ducal mansion — I ob-
served a man who was apparently lounging in an
idle way against the trunk of one of the huge trees
on the Boulevards. But on recognising Adolphe,
my attention was as a matter of course more closely
directed to him ; and I saw that beneath that
lounging air, he was concealing his character of a
spy ; for his looks were riveted upon the gateway
of a house on the opposite side of the immense
thoroughfare. He was in plain clothes; and he
did not immediately notice me. Had he been all
the time in Paris during the absence of thff
Duchess? or had he only just come up from her
father's country-seat, which was at no great dis-
tance from the Prench metropolis ?

These were the questions which naturally oc-
curred to me ; and I could not help thinking that
the man had been pursuing his execrable part of
spy during the whole time of the Duchess de
Paulin's absence. Or else wherefore should he be
in plain clothes .'' wherefore in Paris at so early an
hour — as it was scarcely eleven in the forenoon .''
And then too, methought that his accompanying
his mistress when she departed from the mansion,
was only a subterfuge in order to throw the Duke
off his guard and render it all the more easy to
watch his proceedings. For that Adolphe was
really watching for the Duke now, was my positive
conviction, — although if it were Mademoiselle
Ligny's residence that was being thus espied, she
must have changed her quarters since the last time
I visited them.

I stood still on thus recognising Adolphe ; aad
upwards of a minute elapsed before he noticed me.
First I beheld him give a sudden start and move
more completely behind the tree, — in doing which
his looks encountered mine. I instinctively
glanced across the Boulevard, and caught a
glimpse of the Duke de Paulin's form as he en-
tered the wicket of the gateway of the opposite
house. Adolphe was seized with confusion : but
quickly recovering himself, he said, " Ah, Joseph !
you are out betimes."

" And you likewise," I observed, with a signifi.
cant look. " I know what you are here for ; and
I should be ashamed of myself if I were you to
play a detestable part which only aggravates the
contentions between our master and mistress."

" And how dare you lecture me ?" exclaimed
Adolphe, suddenly assuming a very fierce de-
meanour.

" Because you have espied my actions also," I
answered: " and I had made up my mind that if I
ever caught you doing so again, J would inflict
such chastisement as to make you remember it
for a long, long time afterwards."

" At all events, I am not watching you now,"
returned Adolphe sullenly, and also with a visible
quailing and shrinking — so that I could see he was
a coward notwithstanding his recently assumed air
ot fierceness.

" I know you are not," I said quietly ; " and

22

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OB, THE MEMOIRg OP A MAN-SERTANT.

that is the reason I did not knock you down the
instant I beheld you lurking behind this tree in so
suspicious a manner. Adolphe, I despise you !"
— and with these words I was passing on my
way.

"Joseph," he said, hastening after me, "you
will not tell the Duke that you found me here ?"

" I shall not cond<^scend," I answered, " to give
any promise in one way or another to such a des-
picable character as yourself. You are but one
remove from that spy of the Government who so
nearly swore away a number of human lives."

Adolphe gnashed his teeth with impotent rage ;
and he was about to say something more, when at
that instant we both simultaneously caught sight
of the Duke de Paulin advancing across the
Boulevard. Adolphe was about to flee precipi-
tately : but I seized him by the arm — for I
thought it better he should be held fast on that
spot to give an account of his conduct to his
master.

" What are you doing in Paris, Adolphe ?" de-
manded the Duke, confronting him with a stern
countenance : but as the valet was so overwhelmed
with confusion and affright that he could not
answef the question, the Duke turned to me, say-
ing, "Under what circumstances did you fall in
with him, Joseph ?"

" I was walking round the Boulevards, !Monsieur
le Due, for my recreation — and I found Adolphe
here."

" Here— and in plain clothes !" ejaculated the
Duke : then for a few moments he seemed bewil-
dered how to act : but suddenly making up his
mind with a dignified firmness, he said, " Adolphe,
although especially attached to iladame la
Duchesse, yet you are after all in my service — for
I am the master of the household. I therefore
dismiss you — and I forbid you from ever again
crossing the threshold of my mansion. Joseph,
follow me."

Adolphe muttered something about " the Mar-
shal and the Duchess being bound to take his
part;" and he turned away. 1 followed the Duke,
who walked slowly along the Boulevard ; and when
we were at a little distance from the spot wbeie
that scene had taken place, he stopped short and
said, "Adolphe saw me enter that house oppo-
site ?"

"Yes, ilonsieur le Due," I answered.

"And methought from the manner of you both,
as I caught sight of you from the window, that
your conversation was somewhat excited ?"

"I certainly reproached Adolphe," was my re-
sponse, "for acting as a spy. Monsieur le Due,
upon your proceedings."

'•■ You are a good young man !" he ejaculated :
and waving his hand for me to proceed in one
direction, he turned and slowly began to retrace
his way towards the point whence we had just
come.

As I proceeded along I thought to myself that
fresh scenes of violence would ensue when the
Duchess should return to the mansion, inasmuch
as Adolphe was certain to lose no time in commu-
nicating to her the fact of his discharge. The
reader must not however think that because I had
so severely blamed Adolphe, I was taking the part
of the Duke in his conduct with respect to Made-
moiselle Ligny. Nothing of the sort ! I con-

sidered the Duke to be deeply reprehensible : but
at the same time I could not help despising the
base wretch who by enacting the part of a spy,
only contributed towards the rancorous animosity
which the Duchess already experienced with regard
to her husband. And here, before continuing the
thread of my narrative, I must observe that my
mind was fully made up to leave the Duke's ser-
vice after a proper interval should have elapsed
from the earliest day on which i might be in a
position to give notice to that effect. Heaven
knows that I was not unmindful of the immense
obligation under which I lay towards him : but
matters were becoming so unpleasantly compli-
cated beneath his roof, and I was somehow or
another so continuously finding myself mixed up
therein, that I was resolved to escape at the ear-
liest opportunity from those scenes of trouble and
annoyance.

Before returning home after the occurrences on
the Boulevards, I called at the old banker's re-
sidence—as indeed I had done three or four times
during the past fortnight — to inquire after Made-
moiselle Delacour. I learnt that though some-
what better, and pi-ogressing favourably, the young
lady was nevertheless still confined to her chamber,
— her illness having been a very serious one in-
deed.

In the afternoon of the following day the
Duchess returned to the mansion, accompanied
by Amelie and Florine : but Adolphe was not with
the carriage. I liappened to be in the court-yard
when the Duchess alighted : I saw that her coun-
tenance was exceedingly pale, with traces of much
recent agitation upon it. She did not speak a
word to a soul— she looked neither to the right
nor to the left— but entered the building and
immediately repaired to her own private apart-
ments. Shortly afterwards Florine came to in-
quire if tho Duke were in : and she addressed
herself to me. I informed her that he was not ;
and she desired me to intimate, the moment he
entered, that the Duchess wished to see him.
Plorine then hurried away ; and I saw by her
manner that she was angry and agitated, — a mood
for v/hich I could very well account, inasmuch as
she was engaged to the discarded Adolphe.

Shortly afterwards I met Amelie in one of the
passages; and she said to me, "So Adolphe is
discharged— and you were present when it took
place ? He came home to the Marshal's country-
seat yesterday afternoon, and told the Duchess
everything, — not omitting to state how you had
threatened him. I overheard it all: for the
Duchess bade him speak in the presence of myself
and Florine. She was dreadfully excited,- de-
claring that there was no harm in her servants
becoming acquainted with things that all the
world must know in a very short time. I am
afraid there will be a dreadful scene presently
when the Duke returns."

" I am afraid so likewise," I remarked. " Has
Adolphe been in Paris the whole time that you
were at the Marshal's ?"

" Pretty nearly," replied Amelie : " but it does
not appear that he succeeded in dogging the
Duke's steps until the day before yesterday; and
then he traced him to the house where Made-
moiselle Ligny is now lodging. He watehed again
yesterday morning,— little thinking, I dare say,

JOSEPH WILMOT; OB, THE MEMOIRS OP A MAN-SEEVANT.

23

how be was destined to be discovered. Tbe
Duchess bas however promised to do something
for him : she dared not bring him back — and
riorine is very wretched at being separated from
her lover. And now, Joseph, I mean to give you
a hint, — which is that the Duchess is dread-
fully embittered against you. She considers it is
entirely through you that Adolphe was detected
by the Duke: and she will doubtless insist upon
your discharge."

" Aladame la Duchesse," I responded, " will
thereby be only anticipating a resolve which I
myself have formed : for I am determined, Amelie,
not to remain longer than I can help beneath this
roof."

The good-natured Amelie was about to make
some observation, when the bell of the Duchess's
boudoir rang ; and she was compelled to hasten
away. I descended the stairs ; and meeting the
Duke in tbe hall, just as be happened to enter, I
delivered tbe message entrusted to me by Florine.
He turned away, I saw that a cloud gathered
upon the countenance of my noble master : but
he spoke not a word, and at once proceeded to his
Tvife's apartments.

It was now about six o'clock in the evening;
and feeling unwell and agitated after the exciting
incidents of the day, as well as with the idea that
a terrible scene was about to take place between
two persons who at the altar had vowed to love
and cherish each other, — I went out into the
garden. It was now the month of August : the
weather daring the day had been oppressively
sultry— but with the approach of evening a gentle
breeze had sprung up, and it refreshed me. I
walked for about an hour, — when I was joined by
Amelie, who looked exceedingly pale and agitated:
and she had evidently been weeping, for the tears
were yet moist upon her cheeks.

" Oh, Joseph I" she said, in a voice that indi-
cated feelings profoundly stirred, ''it was just as I
thought ! — a terrible scene has taken place !"

She stopped and sobbed at the recollection of all
she had heard and beheld, but after a little while
she continued as follows : —

'■■ Florine and I were with the Duchess when the
Duke entered. His first words were to desire us
botli to leave the room : but the Duchess ordered
us to stay — observing, in a bitter tone, that though
Monsieur le Due thought fit to dispose of the male
dependants of her household according to his own
will and pleasure, he dared not usurp the same right
with regard to the females personally attached to
her. Hereupon the Duke turned upon his heel,
saying that he would visit Madame la Duchesse at
a more suitable opportunity. Ah ! Joseph, if you
had seen the Duchess then ! — it was like a tigress
that she bounded towards the door — locked it — and
retained the key in her hand. She then began
overwhelming the Duke with reproaches, — accus-
ing him of continuous infidelities towards her —
justifying herself for employing whomsoever she
chose tu watch his actions — and vowing that un-
less be made her all possible amends, she would
remove altogether to her father's dwelling. Tbe
Duke besought her to be calm and to hear him :
the Duchess however desisted only from her re-
proaches, upbraidings, and her threats, through
sheer exhaustion. It was a very painful scene: I
felt so agitated that I wept : but that hard-hearted

wretch Florine seemed to rejoice in the manner
iu which Madame la Duchesse treated her hus-
band."

"And what said the Duke?" I inquired; for I
was somewhat curious to learn whether my own
name was brought up on this occasion.

" Tbe Duke was deeply afiiicted," continued
Amelie : " he spoke nervously and entreatiugly, and
yet with a sufficient degree of calmness to contrast
strikingly with the rage and violence into which
the Duchess had worked hersell" up. He frankly
admitted that he had visited Mademoiselle Ligny
during his wife's absence : but he declared, with
every appearance of solemnity, that it was a mere
friendship which subsisted between himself and
that lady. He denied the right of the Duchess to
institute an espial upon his proceedings : he said
that it would be beneath the dignity of a husband
to make any pledges in respect to matters which
had come to his wife's knowledge merely through
that system of espial. He complained that her
father had caused much mischief between them :
but he wound up with the assurance that if mutual
concessions were made, their happiness might yet
be reconstructed. The Duchess indignantly de-
manded what concessions he sought at her hands P
He answered that he required a stop to be put to
the interference of the Marshal — a solemn pledge
to be given that the spy system should cease —
the recall of the young Marquis, and a more leni-
ent view than had been hitherto taken of his love
for Mademoiselle Delacour. The Duchess insisted
that as a preliminary to all amicable negotiations,
the Duke should pledge himself by oath to re-
nounce his acquaintance with Mademoiselle Ligny
— and that inasmuch as Adolphe was discharged
on account of being obnoxious to the Duke, you,
Joseph, should be likewise discharged as being ob-
noxious to herself. Tbe Duke took your part, —
declaring that you had in no way ofleuded : and
then the violence of the scene was renewed. Iu
the midst of it, however, it suddenly assumed a
singular phase. The Duchess, walking straight
up to her husband, said peremptorily, and with an
access of calmness — but a calmness that was terri-
ble and ominous — 'One word in your ear!' — 'Ihe
Duke listened : the Duchess whispered for a few
moments ; and then the Duke, tui-ning very pale,
murmured in a hollow voice, ' Ah ! you threaten
me with, that ?' — The Duchess retreated with an
air of malignant triumph; and the Duke, after
pacing the apartment in deep agitation for more
than a minute, suddenly exclaimed, ' I will think
over it ! This scene has already lasted too long :
we have exposed ourselves too much : I beseech
you, suffer me to retire.' — The Duchess tossed the
key to Florine, bidding her unlock the door ; and
tbe Duke went forth."

Here Amelie stopped; and I reflected on all she
had just told me. Full well did I comprehend
what it was that the Duchess had whispered in
her husband's ears : there could be no doubt it
was a terrible threat of exposure in respect to that
one fatal episode in his life which had placed him
so completely at the mercy of his imperious spouse.
As for myself, I was determined that the stipula-
tion insisted upon by the Duchess, should be as
promptly complied with as the Duke might think
fit : for I was prepared at an instant's notice to
leave the mansion. Amelie and I conversed for a

24

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OB, THK MEMOIRS OT A MAN-SEKVANT.

few minutes longer upon all that had taken place ;
and I said to her ere parting, " If you can possibly
find the opportunity, it would perhaps be as well
to intimate to Florine that I intend to ask permis-
sion to leave the Duke's service without delay.
Florine is sure to repeat it to the Duchess ; and it
may remove at least one barrier in the way of an
amicable understanding between our unhappy
master and mistress."

On separating from Amelie, I repaired to the
Duke's apartments ; and as I entered the room
where I expected to find him, I saw that he was
engaged in mixing the contents of two phials : but
the moment I made my appearance, he threw his
handkerchief over them, and somewhat impatiently
demanded, "Well, Joseph, what is it now? Any
new calamity to drive me to desperation?" — and
he spoke with an exceeding bitterness.

" No, Monsieur le Due — I sincerely hope not,"
was my response. " Pray do not think me un-
grateful—I beseech you not to fancy for a moment
that I have forgotten your generous conduct to-
wards me : but circumstances compel me to re-
quest my dismissal."

" Ah ! your dismissal ?" ejaculated the Duke,
as if smitten with an idea. " Has Amelie or
Florine "

" I feel, Monsieur le Due," I hastened to ob-
serve— so as to efface from his mind, if possible,
the suspicion which I saw had entered it, to the
effect that I had learnt some particulars of the
evening scene, from the lips of one of the Duchess's
maids, — "I feel that my presence beneath this
roof, cannot be agreeable to Madame la Duchesse
after the manner in which I yesterday morning
treated Adolphe. Indeed, to speak more frankly
still, I would rather go elsewhere "

" But I was thinking of setting out on a journey
to-morrow," interrupted the Duke; "and I pur-
posed that you should accompany me. Listen,
Joseph. You already know enough not to be sur-
prised when I tell you that there are serious
misunderstandings between the Duchess and my-
self. I have therefore resolved to absent myself
for a time : I will go to an estate which I possess
in the south of France — and I will leave it to
mutual friends to effect a reconciliation between
the Duchess and me. The Duchess will remain
here : I do not attempt to blind my eyes to the
fact that I have given her cause of serious vexa-
tion and annoyance : but it is useless for me to
attempt pacific overtures while she is labouring
under the influence of excited feelings. My tem-
porary withdrawal from home, will therefore prove
t'le best means of opening the path for con-
ciliatory negotiations. Observe well what I tell
you, Joseph ! You are a young man of superior
intelligence as well as of generous feelings : I have
always been accustomed to treat you with more or
less confidence — and therefore I do not mind
giving you these friendly explanations now."

Nevertheless, I was somewhat astonished that
the proud Duke de Paulin should address me as if
I were an equal, and that he should thus openly
touch upon such delicate family matters. I re-
flected for a few moments ; and it occurred to me
that I should be wrong under all circumstances —
especially considering the debt of gratitude I owed
the Duke — to persevere in demanding my dis-
missal, when on the morrow my aeparture from

the mansion in attendance upon him would re-
lieve the Duchess of the annoyance of my pre-
sence beneath that roof. I therefore expressed my
willingness to leave myself entirely at the Duke's
disposal ; and he appeared pleased at my de-
cision.

" I do not wish it to be known prematurely," ho
continued, "that I am about to depart. My
orders to that effect will not be issued until the
last thing to-night, when the Duchess shall have
retired to rest. The travelling-carriage will be
ready at nine to-morrow morning. See, therefore,
that you remain silent on the subject : for if it
were to reach the ears of Madame la Duchesse,
there would be a renewal of those distressing
scenes previous to my departure. I shall entrust
you with a letter in the morning, to be given to
one of the Duchess's maids, — and which letter, ad-
dressed to my wife, will inform her of my motives
in taking this decisive step. And now leave
me." ,

On going forth from the Duke's presence, I
ascended to my own chamber to pack up my
clothes in readiness for the contemplated depar-
ture; and when I reflected on all that had just
taken place, I could not help thinking that the
Duke was about to take the very best possible step
under existing circumstances. It was quite clear
that animosity and bitterness on the part of the
husband and wife had reached that point when it
was no longer expedient for them to dwell beneath
the same roof — and that during a period of tem-
porary severance, the interposition of judicious
friends could alone restore friendship and happi-
ness between them. I was engaged in my own
room until close upon ten o'clock, — by which time
supper was over in the servants' hall. I descended
for the purpose of obtaining some little refresh-
ment ; and at about half-past ten, was ascending
again by the servants' staircase to my own cham.
ber, when I was rapidly passed in a corridor by a
man who seemed anxious to avoid me. His
plunge into the obscurity of that passage was so
precipitate that I obtained but the merest glimpse
of his form, and had not the slightest conception
who he was. My first impulse was to follow him,
— thinking it might bo some evil-intentioned per-
son who was concealing himself in the house for
dishonest purposes : but then it occurred to me
that this was scarcely probable, even if it were
possible — as in order to have entered the interior
of the mansion, he must fia'st of all have come in
by the gateway, where the porter would have been
careful not to aUow any stranger to penetrate
farther, nor to cross the court-yard after dusk,
unless accompanied by one of the valets. I there-
fore thought it useless to interfere — and ascended
to my chamber. Going to bed at once, I soon
forgot the little incident of which I have just
spoken.

It now becomes necessary that I should remind
the reader of certain particulars which I gave in
an earlier chapter relative to the sleeping apart-
ments of the Duke and Duchess de Paulin. The
mansion was built in the form of a square, with
a court.yard in the centre. The outer line of
building with the gateway, looked upon the
street : the inner line had its frontage lookinjj
upon the garden in the rear of the premises. It
was on the ground-floor of this inner line that the

JOSEPH WlLMOTj OB, THE MEMOIBa OP A MAN-SEEVANX.

apartments alluded to were situated-, — the windows
looking upon the garden, and having their Venetian
blinds always closed at night-time. The two suites
of apartments were separated by a passage or ves-
tibule,— one entrance thereto being from the great
hall and consisting of folding-doors — another en-
trance being a single door opening on the garden.
The reader is requested to hear these details clearly
in his mind.

I had retired to bed that night in a comparative
state of tranquillity, — inasmuch as I was satisfied
with the prospect of leaving Paris on the morrow,
and thus getting away from the midst of those
scenes of trouble and annoyance in which I had
been recently more or less mixed up. I soon fell
asleep, and slumbered on tranquilly for several
hours, — when I was awakened by something un-
usual— though what it was, I could not for the
first few moments conjecture. That I had how-
ever been startled, was beyond doubt : my own
66.

sensations told me that such was the case ; for I
was trembling all over as if under the influenre of
a vague and unknown terror. Then I heard a
bell ringing violently ; and I recognised it to be
the one communicating with the bed-chamber of
the Duchess — and it hung in the room occupied
by Amelie, and which was immediately opposite
to my own. I sprang out of bed with the con-
viction that something was wrong, — my first im-
pression however being that the Duchess was
taken ill. It was daylight — and a glance at ray
watch which lay upon the table, showed me that
it was a quarter past five o'clock. The bell had
now ceased ringing by the time I had huddled on
a few clothes ; and I rushed down stairs. At the
instant I descended into the great hall, I was
horrified on hearing piercing shrieks thrilling
through all the lower part of the building; and
they seemed to come from the apartments of the
Duchess. Amelie, half-dressed, was endeavouring

m

26

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OB, THE MEMOIRS OP A MiN--3ER,VA.NT.

to open the folding-doors : but they were fastened
inside. She was pale as death, and trembling
violently : she flung a glance of horror and alarm
upon me, — gasping forth, " Good heavens, Joseph !
what can be the matter ?"

" The Duchess must be in a fit !" I exclaimed :
and I threw myself with all my force against the
folding-doors in the hope of bursting them open.
But my endeavour was vain : the piercing cries
still vibrated from inside— and then they were in-
terrupted by long heavy groans.

" No, it is not a fit !" I ejaculated, wild horror
in my brain: "the Duchess is being murdered!
Ah!" I ejaculated, as a thought struck me : "let
us get in by the garden-eutrance !"

Having thus spoken, J flew to the hall-door
opening into the court-yard: in half-a-dozen
seconds I unlocked and unbolted it; and we passed
round to a passage leading along the extremity of
the building into the garden, — Amelie closely fol-
lowing. On reaching the door communicating
with the vestibule whence the respective suites of
the ducal apartments led off on either side, I tried
that door but found it locked. The cries had
ceased : but as Amelie and I rushed to the win-
dows of the Duchess's bed-chamber, we heard the
heavy groans mingled with deep convulsing sighs,
issuing from within. I endeavoured to force open
the Venetian blinds — but in this likewise faile;!.
Meantime Amelio was wringing her hands and
giving vent to the most piteous lamentations. As
for myself, I was in almost an equal state of
dread excitement. I glanced up at the Venetian
blinds with the thought of climbing upon them in
such a way that by my own weight I might tear
them down : but instead of the bars slanting down
towards the floor of the chamber inside, they
slanted up towards the ceiling, — thus totally pre-
cluding the possibility of peeping through them to
see what was passing in the room, and also pre-
venting me from obtaining a footing to climb up
them. But it was while flinging that glance up-
wai'd, that I was struck by the appearance of a
column of smoke ascending from one of the chim-
neys belonging to that end of the line of building
in which the Duke's own apartments were situate.
Scarcely had I directed Amelie's attention to
this smoke, when we were joined in the garden by
the Duke's principal valet and three or four other
domestics. The valet bade me clamour at the
Duke's shutters, while he and the rest endeavoured
to force the door. I sped to execute the instruC'
tions thus' given; and dashed my clenched fists
violently against the Venetian blinds of the Duke's
bed-chamber, — at the same time calling out to him
to rise, for that something terrible was happening
to the Duchess. For nearly a minute no answer
was returned; — and a minute was a perfect age
under circumstances so horrible as these ! At
length I thrust my hand between the bars of the
blinds, and violently broke a pane of glass. Then,
in a few seconds, the window-sash was thrown up
inside ; and the Duke'a voice exclaimed, " Thieves !
Begone!— or by heaven, I will fire !"

"Oh, Monsieur le Due!" I ejaculated: "for
God's sake open the door !"

" What, Joseph ! is that you ?" he cried, in a
tone of amazement.

" Yes, Monsieur le Due ! Something dreadful
has happened to the Duchess !"

"To the Duchess? Good heaven! I v.iilopea
the door !"

Meanwhile the valet and two footmen had been
hurling themselves against that door with all their
might ; and just at the very instant that the Duke
declared his intention of hastening to open it, the
servants burst it in. I sped to rejoin them ; and
now the horrified party was swollen by five cr six
other domestics, who also being alarmed, had come
round to see what was the matter. We entered
the vestibule — we rushed into the ante-chamber of
the Duchess's suite of apartments — we traversed
the (Iressing-room — we burst into the bed-chamber.
And, heavens! what an appalling sight met .our
view! The Duchess was murdered !

CHAPTER LXXXir.

THE MUQSEB.

Steetched upon the carpet near the couch, lay
the unfortunate Duchess in her night-dress, which
was coverqcl with blood. Her hair too was all
clotted with gore — her forehead appeared to be
smashed in — the blood was streaming from num-
berless e^Abs in her bosom, her shoulders, and her
arms^-and in one of these wounds the blade of a
broken poniard was sticking. A pistol lay near
her in a pool of blood upon the carpet: the bsl!-
rope, torn down from that part of the wall against
which the bed stood, was likewise upon the Hour ;
and there were marks of bloody hands up;)n tlie
draperies of the couch, the coverlid and sheets, tlio
walls and the furniture. Tables and chairs were
overturned ; ^nd the appearance of the chamber
indicated that the death-struggle must have been
aa desperate as it was frightful. But as if notiiiug
should be wanting to coLnplete the ghastly horror
of the scone, the unfortunate Duchess herself still
lived — the spark of existence was not extinct
within her — her eyes were open, and staring
wildly, though with the glaze of death coming
rapidly over them — and her bleeding bosom beat
with subdued sighs as a gasping, gurgling sound
came from the throat. • She was unable to sj)aak ;
and my conviction is that though she stared so
wildly, yet that she was unconscious of all that was
passing around.

We were now altogether about a dozen in the
chamber ; and four or five— some males and other
females — hastened to raise the bleeding form of
the Duchess and place it upon the bed. At first
I saw scarcely anything distinctly, except the one
hideous spectacle — that gore-staiced, wounded
shape from which life was rapidly ebbing away.
But all in a moment I became aware that Adolphe
the discarded valet was present amongst us ; and
he was one of those who were placing the Duchess
upon the couch. I had not however time to besto>v
a second thought upon the circumstance: for a
figure, enveloped in a dressing-gown, rushed
through the crowd of domestics —and flinging
himself upon the bleeding, mangled form of the
Duchess, gave vent to laiueutatious which thrilled
through every brain. Thi^ was the Duke do
Paulin.

There were now numerous and quickly uttered
ejaculations, that surgeons should be sent for ; and

JOSEPH WILMOT; OB, THE MEMOIRS OP A MAN-SEEVANT.

27

other voices added ia the same exclamatory man-
ner, "The police likewise!"

Some of the uialc domestics set off to act upon
these suggestions ; and amongst those who re-
mained, it now hecame noticed that Adolphe was
present. His name being uttered in tones of sur-
prise, the i)uke suddenly sprang up from the form
over -which he had thrown himself; and seizing
Adolphe by the collar, he cried in a tone expres-
sive of mingled rage and affliction, "Villain, you
have murdered my wife !"

Adolphe turned pale as death, and staggered
backward. He endeavoured to speak — but could
not give utterance to a single word. All eyes
were riveted with unmistakable suspicion upon
him. The whole of us, with the exception of
himself, were only half-dressed — barely indeed so
much as half: for each had evidently huddled on
that mere sufficiency of apparel which decency de-
manded,— whereas Adolphe was completely dressed
as if he had not been in bed the whole night.

"Ah!" I suddenly ejaculated: "it must have
been he whom I saw !"

This exclamation on my part drew all atten-
tion upon myself; and I quickly explained how on
ascending to my chamber between ten and eleven
on the preceding evening, I had beheld the form
of a man gliding stealthily past me in the ob-
scurity of the passage.

" And here is his hat," ejaculated one of the
footmen, picking it up from under the bed.

"Away with him!" cried the Duke: "keep
him iu security till the police come! The vil-
lain— the miscreant! he has murdered my poor
wife I"

And Adolphe, overwhelmed by the dreadful ac-
cusation—still vainly gasping to give utterance to
some words, which however stuck in his throat —
was forcibly hurried from the chamber, amidst the
execrations of those present.

This scene with Adolphe was all the work of a
minute : indeed the entire incidents which I have
been describing, occupied merely seconds, however
long they have taken me to record and may take
the reader to peruse them. And the charac-
teristics of the scene were hurry, excitement, con-
fusion, dismay, and horror. While the Duke was
charging Adolphe with the deed, Amelie and two
other maids were by the side of the couch on
which the unfortunate Duchess lay. Amelie en-
deavoured to pour water down her throat, in the
hope of reviving her : but the death-rattle was
already there ; "and within a minute after Adolphe
was hurried from the room, the murdered victim
Ceased to exist.

The Duke de Paulin now himself appeared to
bo so crushed and overwhelmed with the horrible
calamity which had overtaken him, that he sank
upon a chair gazing vacantly around. I besought
him to remove from the presence of the horrible
scene ; and he suffered me to lead him into the
adjacent apartment, which was the dressing-room
of the deceased Duchess. There I gave him a
glass of water ; and when he had imbibed a small
portion, he recovered somewhat, — murmuring, "O
Joseph, how dreadful ! how shocking ! What will
my dear Theobald think? — and oh, my poor
children !"

Then ho covered his face vrith his hands ; and
resting his elbows upon his knees, remained in

that attitude for upwards of a minute, — com-
pletely motionless. IS'o tear glided between his
lingers — no sob convulsed his breast — no sigh or
murmur issued from his lips ; and methought it
was an affliction too profound— too closely allied to
despair, to find for itself a vent by such issues as
those. All of a sudden the Duke started up ; and
advancing hurriedly towards his own suite of apart-
ments, entered them, closing the door of the ante-
chamber behind him. I dared not follow : it
seemed to me that he wished to be alone to give
way to that terrible affliction which was also too
sacred to be intruded upon.

And now medical men and police-officers arrived
at the mansion ; and first of all, the surgeons pro-
ceeded alone to the chamber where the murder
had taken place, and whence all who had remained
with the corpse had been ordered by the intendant;
of the household to go forth, so that the room
might be left undisturbed until the authorities
should have instituted the usual inquiry. The
medical men found life to be extinct ; and thus the
chamber was quickly thrown open for the entrance
of the commissary of police and a couple of his
functionaries. In the meantime two other ^e»-
darmes had relieved the footmen who were
stationed at the door of the apartment to which
Adolphe had been consigned, and where he was
left by himself. The domestics separated to their
respective chambers to apparel themselves ; and as
we passed each other, it was in silence — but with
mingled horror and distress visibly depicted upon
the countenances of us all.

In my own mind I had no doubt that Adolphe
must have been the assassin ; and from the cir-
cumstance of his so suddenly appearing amongst
us when we first entered into the chamber of the
unfortunate Duchess, as well as from tiie spot
where his hat was found, I conceived it equally cer-
tain that he must have remained hidden under the
bed of his intended victim until ho considered it a
suitable time, or else plucked up the necessary
courage, to perpetrate the hideous deed. And
what could his motive have been ? Methought
that I read it easily enough — and that it was ven-
geance, allied perhaps with cupidity, I had never
liked his morose, sinister, downcast look ; and I
knew that he must be greedy of gold — or else he
would not have consented to play the despicable
part of a hireling spy. Perhaps, I fancied to
myself, he had calculated upon the accomplish-
ment of his twofold crime of murder and plunder
with far greater ease than it had been executed —
that he had not foreseen the desperate struggle
and the agonized pulling at the bell which had
caused the alarm — but that he had hoped to get
clear off with his booty ere the foul deed should be
discovered. And as for the vindictive feeling
which methought must have partially, if not;
mainly influenced him, — it appeared to me by no
means difficult to comprehend it. He might have
fancied that the Duchess, by not bringing him
back to the mansion, had too indifferently suffered
him to be sacrificed to the Duke's indignant wrath :
perhaps too the unfortunate Duchess had failed to
indemnify him in a pecuniary way to the extent of
his expectations : and hence his vindictiveness.
But alas ! how fatally, I reflected to myself, were
the Duke de Paulin's hopes of becoming reconciled
to his wife, — how fatally were they destroyed '.

28

JOSEPH WILMOT; on, THE MEM0IE3 OP A MAN-SERVANT.

and what must the unhappy nobleman's own
thoughts now be at thus finding himself suddenly
separated by death from that wife with whom he
had last parted under such sad circumstances !

I was in the midst of all these mournful ideas,
when a footmau came hurriedly to my chamber,
and stated that I must go down stairs at once to
give my evidence before the commissary of police.
I had just finished my toilet — and was naturally
prepared, under the circumstances, for a summons
of this sort. On descending, I found that the
examination was taking place in the great dining-
room. There, at the head of the table, sat the
commissary of police, with writing materials before
him. The Duke de Paulin, still in his dressing-
gown, and looking ghastly pale, was seated near
the commissary. Tn o gendarmes stood just within
the door. Those were all the persgns whom I
found in the apartment.

The moment I entered, the commissary said to
my noble master, "It will be necessary. Monsieur
le Due, for you to withdraw."

The nobleman gazed for a moment with visible
astonishment upon the commissary — and then
said, " Methinks, sir, that I have a deep interest
— sad and terrible as it is — in the progress of this
inquiry."

" It is true. Monsieur le Due," answered the
commissary : " nevertheless, painful as it may be
for me to repeat my request that you will with-
draw, it is absolutely necessary."

The Duke offered no further remonstrance — but
slowly quitted the room, with looks bent down :
and I sincerely pitied him — for his feelings were
evidently harrowed to a frightful extent. As the
door closed behind him, the commissary of police
beckoned one of the gendarmes to draw near j and
he whispered a. few words to the officer, — who
thereupon left the apartment.

The commissary of police asked me if I could
speak French sufficiently well to comprehend him ;
and by my answer I showed that I had made such
progress since being examined through the medium
of an interpreter in the Chamber of Peers, that I
was quite adequate to the task.

" Did the Duke de Paulin make any particular
communication to you yesterday evening ?" asked
the magistrate.

" Yes, sir ; he bade me prepare to accompany
him on a journey this morning."

" State any other particulars in respect to that
conversation."

I then recited word for word, as nearly as I
could recollect, the discourse which the Duke had
held towards me — and how he had spoken with
frank confidence of the views and hopes he had
entertained with regard to the results that a
severance from home would bring about. The
commissary then questioned me as to my having
seen a form glide past me in the obscurity of the
passage : but I was totally unable to say that it
was the form of Adolphe whom I had thus seen.
The commissary now bade me sit down,— observing
that for the purposes of justice each successive wit-
ness must be kept under his own eye until the
close of the investigation.

The next witness introduced was the Duke's
principal valet ; and he deposed to this effect : —

"When I attended upon Monsieur le Due last
evening at about ten o'clock, ho ordered me to

pack up his trunks for a journey which he in-
tended to undertake this morning. He likewise
charged me to give instructions the last thing, to
have the travelling-carriage ready at nine this
morning — but to take care that his contem-
plated departure should be kept as secret as pos-
sible,— inasmuch as he dreaded another dispute
with the Duchess ere he could get away from the
house."

The commissary of police now questioned the
valet as to the circumstances under which the
tragedy was first discovered ; and he likewise
examined me upon that point. In the course of
the explanations which I gave, the recollection
flashed to my mind of that volume of smoke which
I had seen ascending from a chimney belonging
to the Duke's bed-room and the other apart-
ments immediately above it. I had altogether
forgotten this incident until now ; and I mentioned
it. The commissary beckoned the remaining gen^
darme towards him, and gave that functionary
certain whispered instructions, — on receiving
which he issued from the dining-room, and his
place at the door was almost immediately taken
by another police-oflicer.

Amelie was the next witness introduced; and
she corroborated my statement and that of the
valet in respect to the circumstances attending
the discovery of the murder. She was followed by
the groom, footman, and coachman, to whom the
valet had issued the orders relative to the Duke's
contemplated departure.

Scarcely had they given their testimony, when
the gendarme who had been last sent out, returned
to the room, and whispered for a few minutes
with the commissary of police. He likewise pro-
duced a sealed letter, which the magistrate opened
and read.

" You said, I think," remarked the commissary,
turning towards me when he had finished the
perusal of the letter, " that the Duke de Paulin
spoke to you yesterday evening of a written com-
munication he intended to make to the Duchess ?"

" He did, sir," I responded ; " and Monsieur lo
Due informed me that he should entrust the letter
in the morning to my hand, to be by me confided
to one of the Duchess's maids, so that it might
reach the Duchess immediately after our depar-
ture."

"Tell me," said the commissary, "is this letter
worded in the spirit in which Monsieur le Dae
so frankly and confidingly spoke to you last
evening ?"

I took the letter and read it; and I could
scarcely keep back my tears as I did so. It was
penned in the most affectionate and contrite strain.
Therein the Duke admitted that he had been
culpable of proceedings on which the worst con-
struction might be put: but he pledged his honour
as a man and his soul as a Christian that there
had never been anything actually criminal between
himself and Mademoiselle Ligny — but that their
friendship was Platonic, and that he had been all
the more led to befriend her in a pecuniary sense
because he regarded her as the victim of un-
founded jealousy on the part of the Duchess. He
went on to describe that she had lost her situation
as governess in the family through this jealousy —
that she had suffered seriously in health on ac-
count of the chagrin she experienced at the unjust

JOSEPH WTIiMOT ; OR, THE MEMOIES OP A MAN-SKBVANT.

29

sui^picioiis harboured against her; and the Duke
furthermore stated that considering the little at.
tentions he had shown Mademoiselle Ligny while
she was beneath his roof, to be the cause of his
wife's jealousy, he had held himself bound by every
sentiment of honour and humanity, to succour her
after she was discarded from a place which she had
looked upon as her home. Then the letter went
on to implore the Duchess to accept this explana*
tion as the true one — and to show a disposition of
leniency and forbearance on her husband's behalf.
The Duke assured her that he still loved her
tenderly notwithstanding all that had taken place :
he wrote most pathetically of their children, —
imploring that they might not have their young
minds demoralized by beholding the complete
severance of their parents. Finally, he expressed
the fervid hope that during his temporary with-
drawal from home, the dispassionate and judicious
intervention of mutual friends would lay the basis
for a complete reconciliation which nothing thence-
forth might disturb.

I was deeply moved by the perusal of the letter
which the commissary handed mc, and which I now
gave back to him, — observing, " This is indeed in
the spirit in which Monsieur le Due spoke to me
last evening."

The commissary now ordered Adolphe to be
brought in ; and at the expiration of a few
minutes, ho was introduced between two gendarmes.
He looked pale and dejected : though scarcely a
couple of hours had elapsed since the moment he
was charged with the crime, it seemed as if he had
suffered whole weeks of illness and sorrow.

" I am ready to hear whatsoever explanation
you may have to give," said the commissary of
police : " but recollect that you are not bound to
proffer any account of yourself unless you think
fit."

" Oh, indeed. Monsieur le Commissaire !" ex-
claimed Adolphe, with a sudden energy which sur-
prised and even startled me ; "I am only too
anxious to enter upon explanations. I was for a
long time in the service of Madame la Duchesse :
and I became attached to one of her maids named
Florine. We besought that our espousals might
take place : but Madame la Duchesse declared that
we must wait for some time, until we had secured
an independence to enable us to dispense with
servitude and to set up in business. We foresaw
that this would be a long interval ; — and we were
secretly married about seven or eight months
ago. As perhaps you are aware, Monsieur le
Commissaire, I was suddenly discharged by Mon-
sieur le Due the day before yesterday. I in-
formed the Duchess of the circumstance ; and she
most kindly and graciously promised to see after
my welfare— a pledge in which she was joined by
her father the Marshal. But I could not bear to
be separated so suddenly from my wife ; and I
penetrated last evening into the mansion. The
reason why I passed Joseph Wilmot so stealthily
in the corridor, was because I knew that he was
not friendly disposed towards me; and I feared
that if he beheld me in the house, he would in-
form the Duke. I remained in my wife's chamber
— and soon after daylight rose with the intention
of leaving the mansion before any of the other
servants should be about. The porter at the
entrance-gate is a friend of mine : he gave me

admission last evening, and would have afforded
me egress this morning. But just as I was about
to take my departure, I heard a strange commo-
tion amongst the servants : the report circulated
that something dreadful had happened to the
Duchess; — and carried away by feelings of an
awful curiosity, as well as by gratitude towards
my deceased mistress who had ever behaved most
kindly towards me, I lost all control over my ac-
tions and proceeded to the chamber of the Duchess.
It may naturally be conceived that in the dreadful
excitement which prevailed there at the first mo-
ment of the discovery of the deed, my presence
should have been overlooked. I was one of thos©'
who raised the wounded form of the Duchess
from the carpet ; and that is the explanation of
the blood-stains upon my garments. As for my
hat being found xmder the bed, I recollect perfectly
well dropping it from my palsied hand on behold-
ing the shocking spectacle of the murdered
Duchess ; and it is quite easy to conceive how it
could have been kicked beneath the couch in the
excitement and confusion which prevailed— and
most probably by one of those who raised the
i Duchess and deposited her on that couch. Those
j explanations, Monsieur le Commissaire, are all I
' have to say."

I This tale, so coherent in all its parts — and being
\ precisely that which could alone explain away the
I amount of circumstantial evidence that weighed
against the accused — was listened to with breath-
I less suspense by myself and my fellow-servants
j there assembled — but with a becoming magisterial
\ imperturbability on the part of the commissary, as
! well as without the slightest emotion on that of
', the gendarmes. I was astonished — but stUl very
far from convinced : for if Adolphe were not the
murderer, who possibly could be ? I had not how-
ever many moments to reflect upon his explanation
— which the magistrate duly committed to paper —
when the progress of the inquiry began to develop
new phases. One of the medical men now entered;
and presenting a little packet — appearing to be
half a sheet of writing-paper folded up — he said to
the commissary, " This, sir, contains the hair which
was found tightly grasped in the hands of the
murdered lady, and which she had evidently torn
from the head of her assassin during the desperate
struggle of life and death. I have thoroughly
cleansed it from the encrusting gore; and it is
now fit for the purposes of justice."

Hie commissary opened the packet : I glanced
towards Adolphe, expecting to see him turn pal&
at the test to which he was about to be submitted :
but to my astonishment his self-possession had
greatly increased; and with this seeming com-
posure of conscious innocence, he had lost much of
that sinister downcast air which habitually charac-
terised him. Methought that it was either the
greatest excess of hardihood to which a bold
effrontery had ever reached — or else that the maa
was indeed innocent, — in which case again recurred
the bewildering question — Who could the mur-
derer be ?

The commissary drew forth the hair from the
packet ; and giving it into the hand of the sur-
geon, requested him to compare it with the hair on
Adolphe's head. The distance which I and the
other witnesses sat from the spot where the ac-
cused stood, prevented us from noticing the pre-

30

JOSEPH WIIMOT ; OE, THE MEMOrSS OF A MAN-SERVAKT.

cise shade of the hair which now formed so deeply
interesting an item in that stage of the inquiry.
The medical man placed the hnir but for a single
moment against that of Adolpuc ; and then iiume-
diatelj said, " For form's sake, Monsieur le Com-
missaire, I obeyed your mandate : but I knew be-
forehand that this hair which I now hold never
came from the bead of the accused."

I and my fellow-servants exchanged looks of
astonishment ; and my next feeling was one of ex-
tretne distress that I should have so wronged
Adolplie as to believe him guilty, — the more so as
it was partially through me, in respect to tlie inci-
dent in the dark corridor, that the weight of the
crime h.'.d been thrown upon his head.

But phase after phase was following one another
in rapid succession : for scarcely had the commis-
sary of police directed Adolphe to be seated — the
two gendarmes still keeping close to him — when
another gendmine entered the room, and produced
certain articles to the commissary. One was a
pistol — another the piece of the poniard-blade
which had been found sticking in the person of the
murdered Duchess ; and the officer said, " These
have been cleansed, sir, from the blood which was
upon them. And here, sir," he added, in allusion
to a third article, " is the handle of that poniard,
from which I have not cleansed the blood stains."

" Does any one here present recognise this
pistol ?" asked the commissary, at the same time
beckoning to me and my fellow-servants to ap-
proach the table.

We did so : and both the valet and myself were
seized with consternation and dismay as we glanced
upon the weapon with the butt-end of which the
skull of the unfortunate Duchess had been beaten
in.

" You know it f " said the commissary, gazing
upon us both.

"Yes, sir," answered the valet. "It is the
Duke's !"

This announcement acted upon our fellow-
servants like a galvanic shock : it was a rsvelation
— it proclaimed the Duke de Paulin to be the mur-
derer of his wife ! So dizzy a sensation seized
upon my brain, and such a sickness upon my
heart, that I staggered back to my seat : for I also
knew full well that this pistol belonged to the
Duke— it was one of those I had taken to the gun-
smith's some months back to be repaired.

" And the handle of this poniard," said the com-
missary to the gendarme, — " where did you find it,
with these blood-stains upon it ?"

" In a drawer in the Duke's own room," an-
swered the officer.

Again at this moment did the door open ; and
while the magistrate was assuring himself how
well the broken blade corresponded to the frag-
ment left attached to the handle, and how accu-
rately the two pieces fitted together, — that gen-
darme whom he had sent out after I mentioned
the incident of the smoke from the chimney in an
earlier stage of the proceeding, now re-appeared.
He carried in his hands an elegant writing-desk of
ebony richly inlaid with mother-of-pearl : and
Amelie hastily whispered to me, " It is our poor
deceased lady's desk !"

Ah ! now a light flashed in unto my mind : and
before another word was said ia the course of the
magisterial investigation, I comprehended the

meaning of the smoke which I had seen ascending
from the chimney.

" This desk, sir," said the gendarme who broiigbt
it, "escaped your special notice when you drew
up your description of the appearance of the
chamber. It has evidently been wrenched open
— and by the confusion of its contents, has been
j rifted of a portion of them. Ah, doubtless it was
forced with this !" added the gendarme, as he
caught a glimpse of the handle of the dagger with
j a small fragment of blade still remaining in it.
i "Yes— here are the precise marks," said ttie
i commissary, as he fitted that handle of the blade
' into the place where, when the lid of the desk was
closed, the forcing instrument had evidently been
' thrust. " I have it in my depositions," he con-
tinued, addressing himself to the gendarme, " that
when I sent you out just now to investigate the
Duke's room, you discovered a quantity of tinder
lying in the grate ?"

"Yes, sir," answered the gendarme, — "evidently
the tinder of papers recently burnt."

" The smoke !" whispered Amelie to me : and
her countenance was ghastly with horror— as I
have no doubt mine also was, while each succes-
sive incident was thus tending to the inculpation
of the wretched Duke.

" And there was water, too, tinged with blood,
in the basin in the Duke's apartment," added the
gendarme who was now specially engaged in this
portion of the inquiry.

The commissary of police now drew a cambric
handkerchief stained with blood, from beneath a
quire of paper which had hitherto lain upon it :
and beckoning the valet to approach, he said,
" Can you tell me to whom this belongs ?"

The valet examined it; and on recognising the
arms of the ducal bouse of Paulin embroidered in
the corner, he was compelled to give such an
answer as afibrded another link in that chain of
evidence which was being so surely and fatally
followed up. It appeared that this kerchief was
found in the chamber of the Duchess when the
commissary first instituted his search there : but
he had hitherto kept it back, to be produced only
at the moment he thought most advisable. But
that the magistrate had from the very outset the
gravest suspicions in respect to who the real mur<
derer was, now became apparent enough : and
hence the order for the Duke to withdraw from
the room during the inquiry. This inquiry, as th&
reader has seen, was conducted with great tact, —
the magistrate first making himself acquainted
with all the circumstances of the case, and allow-
ing at the outset the Duke de Paulin himself to
give whatsoever explanations he thought fit. That
those explanations had been chiefly in respect to
his own contemplated journey and the letter to be'
left for his wife, was also clear to my comprehen-
sion : and hence was it that I became the first
witness summoned into the magisterial presence.
Then, being once in possession of what the Duke
himself had to say, and of the circumstances
attending the discovery of the tragedy, the com-
missary had taken the next requisite step : namely,
that of allowing Adolphe to exculpate himself, so
as to prepare the way for turning the whole tide
of evidence into the channel which should unmis-
takably bring the deed home to the wretched Duke
himself.

JOSEVH WILMOT; OB, THE MEMOIES OP A MAN-SEEVANT.

31

As for the papers that were burnt, I need hardly
inform the reader that these must have consisted
of that manuscript-narrative of the Duke's ini-
quitous transaction in respect to the ruined castle
upon the Khine,— and which, when I was first in
his service, had fallen into my hands.

The magistrate now proceeded in formal terms
to pronounce Adolphe's discharge from custody ;
and he then said, looking around upon my fellow-
eervants and myself, " I need not inform you, after
all you have heard, that the whole weight of ac-
cusation rests against your unhappy master. It
is my painful duty to order his committal to the
prison of the Luxembourg : but I have no objec-
tion that this intelligence should be conveyed to
hiui in as delicate a manner as possible. Whether
be knows that he is suspected, I am at a loss to
say : but from the very first moment the gen-
darmes have had their eyes upon him ; and when
he quitted the room just now, I entrusted the
duty of a special surveillance to the one who fol-
lowed him. It may be therefore that a guilty
conscience tells him he is suspected. Nevertheless,
as I have already said, I have not the least objec-
tion that the announcement of his forthcoming
removal to the Luxembourg maybe broken to him
in the most delicate manner. Will any one of
you undertake the task P— a painful one, I admit
— but still one which a sense of humanity, if not
of actual duty, may lead you to perform."

All eyes were at once turned upon me ; and
after the manner in which the magistrate had just
spoken — travelling out of his way as it were to
suggest the most benevolent course which could
under the circumstances be adopted — I dared not
hesitate to accept the mission. But I undertook
it with a heavy heart : indeed, my feelings were of
so painful a character that I could have sat down
and given vent to them in tears. I however pre-
served my fortitude as well as I was able — and
issued from the room. In the hall I found a
number of the domestics congregated ; and from
something which one of the gendarmes must have
said— or else from observing that the Duke was
really under surveillance— itej had conjectured
that suspicion attached itself to him. My looks,
as I appeared in the hall, at once confirmed that
suspicion : but no question was put to me— no
impertinent curiosity was displayed : the counte-
nances of all expressed a deep dejection mingled
with a dismayed consternation.

I inquired where the Duke was — and learnt
that he was in an apartment facing the dining-
room. Thither I proceeded? my first glance
showed me the Duke, still habited in his dressing-
gown, seated upon the sofa : my second glance I
showed me a gendarme just outside the window, j
seeming to be lounging negligently in the court- i
yard : but I knew that in reality he had his eye
on the Duke— for he was the very one who, on a
whispered command from the commissary, had j
followed the wretched nobleman from the dining- j
room. I

I approached the Duke de Paulin : he looked
up at me like one lost : there was something fear-
fully wild and vacant in his gaze. It was not i
simulated, I am convinced : it was all but too
real — and he recognised me not.

" Monsieur le Due," I said, " will you permit
me to address you ?"

" Who arc you ? is it not a dream ?" — and then
he pressed liis hand to his brow as if to steady his
reeling, rocking brain.

For nearly a minute I was so profoundly affected
that I could not give utterance to another word :
and it was with the utmost difficulty I could keep
down the sobs that were rising up in my throat.
Good heavens ! was it possible that this great no-
bleman whom I beheld before me — who dwelt in a
palace — was surrounded by luxury — had hosts of
domestics at his command — and possessed enor-
mous wealth, — who, in a word, but a few hours
back had every means, if he had chosen to use
them rightly, for ensuring his earthly happiness —
was it possible that this man was a murderer?
Had he wrecked all those sources of enjoyment ? —
or rather, had he rendered himself incapable of ap-
preciating them any longer by the tremendous
tragedy of the past foul night ? He had asked me
whether it were all a dream, — he had also put his
hand to his brow to steady his thoughts : and I
now fancied it must be a dream — and I likewise in
my turn pressed my palm forcibly against my
throbbing forehead.

"Monsieur de Due," I said after that pause,
"do you not know me ? I am Joseph Wiliaot."

This name appeared all of a sudden to act as a
spell upon him — to serve as a point around which
all his scattered ideas could suddenly congregate —
a focus about which his confused thoughts might
rapidly group themselves. He again looked up at
me : there vi^as far less vacancy — less wildness too
in his gaze— —but, O heaven, a world of ine£fable
despair !

" Yes— you are Joseph Wilmot," he said, " and
you have come to tell something dreadful— I see
that you have ! What do they say of me— of it?

Dare they suspect But no ! they cannot~it is

impossible !"

'• Monsieur le Due," I answered, " prepare your-
self for a terrible announcement "

"Ah, then it is so!" he ejaculated, the already
ghastly pallor of his countenance becoming more
ghastly still : and rising from his seat, he stag-
gered, or rather reeled across the room.

A dimness came over my eyes : tears were in
them : I hastily wiped them away ; and at the in-
stant that I thus saw clearly again, I beheld the
Duke apply something to his lips. A wild idea of
poison smote me : I sprang forward— and seizing
his arm, exclaimed, " Wretched man, what would
you do ?"

A phial fell from his grasp : he bent upon me a
strange look of triumph, and then sank, or threw
himself, I know not which, upon a sofa that was
near. I beckoned to the gendarme who was look-
ing in at the window : I rushed forth into the hall,
where the assembled domestics were startled by the
wild manner in which I ejaculated, " The Duke
has poisoned himself!"

CHAPTEE LXXXIIl.

THB XASI HOCB.

The medical men who were still in the house, vera
speedily at hand to render their assistance : the
phial was picked up — and by the few drops which

32

JOSEPH WlLilOT; OE, THB ITEilOIKS OF A ilAN-SEBVANT.

remained in it, one of the surgeons promptly de-
tected the contents to have been a mixture of
arsenic and laudanum. Emetics were forced down
the would-be suicide's throat: they quickly ope-
rated— and he was conveyed to a chamber.

It is more easy to conceive than to describe the
excitement which prevailed throughout the house-
hold, when the intelligence of this new crime on
the Duke's part was spread like wildfire. The
medical men soon pronounced however that the
deed would not be followed with fatal consequences :
but they recommended that the Duke should not
be removed to prison until the evening. And not
alone on account of his attempted suicide was this
delay deemed expedient — but likewise because of
the crowd which was gathered in the street, and
against which the porter had to bar the great gates
of the mansion. For the rumour of the tragedy
had spread abroad since the earliest hour ; and it
was now past nine o'clock on this memorable
morning. The multitudes had therefore assembled ;
and when it was known how frightful was the
death of the Duchess — how her person was covered
with wounds, and how her skull had been beaten
in— the bitterest execrations were levelled against
the murderer. But now that at length it transpired
that this murderer was none other than her own
husband, the fury of the crowd could scarcely be
restrained ; and I verily believe that if time had
not been afforded for the mitigation of that strong
feeling — and if the Duke had been at once con-
veyed away to prison — the enraged populace would
have torn him to pieces.

After that distressing scene with the Duke, I
retired to my own chamber, to compose my feel-
ings, if possible, in solitude. "When I reflected
upon the various incidents of this stupendous
tragedy, I was all the more amazed, horrified, and
shocked thereat. 1 could come to no other con-
clusion than that the Duke had planned the crime
some hours before he executed it — and that ho had
endeavoured to arrange his proceedings in such a
way as should best avert suspicion from himself.
Tbat pretended journey — that long letter which he
had penned to his wife — the way in which he had
spoken to me, with an appearance of so much
friendly candour — the orders be had issued, with
80 much seeming precaution, through the medium
of his principal valet, — all these were part and
parcel of a scheme concocted with a devilish in-
genuity. Doubtless he had expected to be enabled
to despatch his intended victim at once, — in which
case he would most probably have done something
to give the apartments an air of a forcible entrance
having been effected; and it might be that he
would have completely succeeded in averting sus-
picion from himself — for even the quarrels with his
wife would never of themselves alone have been
sufficient to hurl the charge of murder against his
head. The resistance however which he had ex-
perienced at the hands of the unhappy Duchess,
had discomfited all his hopes, and turned the train
of circumstances into a new channel. His subse-
quent actions showed how fearfully he must have
been bewildered,— the pistol left on the carpet —
the broken blade in the body — and he himself
carrying away the handle after he had forced the
desk, as if in the frightful confusion of his thoughts
and the mad agitation of his brain he had totally
lost sight of the necessity of leaving the handle

there likewise, — and as if he had also overlooked
the fact that his kerchief remained there too to
strengthen the tale against him ! But it was
evident that his chief anxiety, after dealing those
murderous stabs and blows, was to possess himself
of the manuscript narrative so closely regarding
his honour — and that this one idea being upper-
most in his mind, he had rushed back to his own
room to commit those papers to the flames.

As for the poison, I now recollected the circum-
stance of finding the Duke busy with a couple of
phials when I had entered his apartment on the
previous evening, and when he so quickly con-
cealed those phials from my view. The wretched
man ! he was then preparing for any casualty that
might arise: he was securing for himself the
means of suicide in case aught should transpire to
taint him with suspicion ! And, Oh ! what a night
must he have passed! — long hours perhaps of
mingled hesitation and anguish — and then a fero-
cious resolve triumphing over his better feelings !
Yes— there must have been much hesitation on
his part: or else wherefore postpose the crime
until past five in the morning? wherefore not
have accomplished it in the midst of that dark-
ness which was most congenial to such tremendous
turpitude ?

And now I must proceed to observe that there
were other evidences of the Duke's crime, in addi-
tion to those already described to the reader, and
which in themselves were damnatory enough.
The wretched man, as T have said, was enveloped
in a dressing-gown until the moment when he was
borne to a chamber after having made his unsuc-
cessful attempt at suicide ; and on the dressing-
gown being taken off, his shirt was found stained
with blood, as well as rent in several places. The
hair discovered in the spasmodic grasp of the un-
happy lady's hands, corresponded precisely with
his own: there were blood-stains upon the doors
of his own suite of apartments; and besides the
tinged water in the basin in his bed-chamber, a
towel was found thrust between the mattresses and
likewise bearing the sanguineous stains.

The crowd continued in the street throughout
the day; and at a late hour in the evening, a
hackney-coach was got round into the Champs
Elysees, which the garden of the mansion ad-
joined. A picket of geniarmes was in the close
vicinage of where the vehicle stopped, in order to
resist any infuriate demonstration on behalf of the
populace, should it be suspected that the culprit
was to be removed in that direction. The idea
that such a stratagem would be adopted, seemed
however not to have occurred to the multitudes :
for they remained in the street. Thus was it that
between nine and ten o'clock, the wretched mur-
derer, in a half senseless condition, was carried
out to the hackney-coach; and he who was ac-
customed to visit in his own sumptuous carriage
the palaces of his wealthy compeers, was con-
ducted iu a miserable lumbering public hackney to
a gaol !

Immediately after the commissary of police had
decided upon committing the Duke de Paulin to
prison, he likewise thought it expedient for the
ends of justict to order the arrest of Mademoiselle
Ligny. From the suspicious circumstances con-
necting her name with that of tho Duke, the
magistrate no doubt conceived it to be quite

JOSEPH WILMOl; OK, THE MEMOIES OF A MAN-SEEVAN']

33

possible that sTie was an accessory before tbe fact.
She was accordingly taken into custody in the
course of the day ; and though in a prelirainary
examination she half indip^nantly and half in bitter
affliction repelled the foul charge, she was trans-
ferred to the Conciergerie.

On that same day, too, a messenger was sent off
to the German University to communicate the
distressing intelligence to the young Marquis de
Piiulin; and I. shuddered as I thought of what the
effect might be upon the delicate susceptibilities
of that nobleman. The Marshal arrived at tbe
mansion in the course of the afternoon ; and pro-
found was bis affliction. He took away with him
the motherless children who were there with their
governess; and as the two eldest daughters were at
a boarding-school in the country, it became the
veteran's mournful duty to communicate to thera
their mother's tragic end and their father's crime.
I need not add that the whole affuir produced an
57.

immense sensation throughout the capital ; and all
the more so, because the government did its ut-
most to prevent the public press from giving ela-
borate details. It was conceived that the Duke de
Paulin's crime would be made the handle of an
attack on the aristocracy of the country generally ;
and as there had recently been other circumstances
tending to embitter the middle and poorer orders
against the upper ones, — as a Minister of State
too had been charged, tried, and found guilty of
peculation and corrupfion— and as the recent oc-
currence at the Chamber of Peers had resulted in
nothing favourable to the Government, louis
Philippe trembled lest this new scandal should
still further emperil the existing cder of things.
Tbus, in pursuance of secret commands issued by
the Minister of the Interior, the commissary of
police suffered but little to ooze out beyond the
principal incidents of the tragedy : and these could
not of course be suppressed. But no detailed ac-

34

JOSEPH WIXMOT ; OB, THK STEMOIRS 05' A MAN-SERVANT.

count of the eridence was published iu the news-
papers ; nnd, if I remember aright, with the excep-
tion of Adolphe, Amelia, and the Duke's valet, the
name of no other domestic transpired. At all
events I am very certain that my own did not : for
I watched all the leading newspapers, both French
and English, to make myself certain on this
point.

The intendant of the household issued a recom-
mendation to all the servants to remain with<a
doors as much as possible, not only for decency's
sake until the funeral should have taken place, but
likewise to avoid the chance of being questioned
by gossips and other curiosity-inspired persons
relative to the details of the tragedy. Moreover,
by command of the Marshal, it was determined
that the obsequies should be celebrated with the
least possible delay, — so that they might be over
by the time the young Marquis arrived, and thus
spare him an additional cause of excitement as well
r.s of bitterest woe. It was accordingly at eight
o'clock in the morning of the fourth day after the
murder, that the remains of t'ae Duchess de Paulin
were borne to their last home. The funeral-
ceremony took place at the church of the Made-
leine; and in the family-vault beneath the marble
pavement, the mangled corpse of the once bril-
liantly beautiful lady found its resting-place.

But in the interval how had it fared with the
Duke de Paulin ? From the moment that he was
consigned to the Luxembourg, he sank into the
complete stupor of apathy, — gaaing vacantly on
those who addressed him— answering vaguely and
incoherently to the questions that were put to him.
It does not appear that until the last hour of his
life— of which I have soon to speak — he awoke to
a consciousness of his own dreadful position. The
anful crime which he had perpetrated, seemed to
sit like a tremendous nightmare upon his soul, —
crushing and weighing it down — keeping it in a
state of numbing consternation — steeping in torpor
all its energies — and rendering the wretched man
utterly incapable of deliberate reflection.

But what of his last hour? It was about four
o'clock in the afternoon of the same day on which
the funeral had taken place, that the Marshal —
the father of the late Duchess — came to the man-
sion ; and ordering me into his presence, addressed
me in the follo-.ving manner:—

" I have just this moment come from the prison
of the Luxembourg: I have seen that unhappy
mftn— and he is arousing himself from the state of
torpor in which he has hitherto remained. I do
not think that he has long to live — and this is like-
wise his own impression. It seemed as if a pre-
sentiment of death's approach had stolen into his
mind, — exciting it to some little degree of energy.
He would not listen to me — he would not speak to
me : but he has asked for yott— and you must go
to him ! Let it be under circumstances of the
strictest privacy : everything must be avoided that
feeds the morbid curiosity of the public, and sus-
tains the excitement which the dreadful transaction
has occasioned. Speak not therefore to the other
domestics upon the point : but hasten to the

Luxembourg 1 have already arranged for your

prompt admittance to the wretched man's pre-
Beuce."

It was by no means an agreeable duty which I
was thus called upon to perform : but how could

I refuse it P The veteran Marshal seemed bowed
down with the weight of affliction : he spoke with
so profound a sadness that it touched me to tlie
very soul ; and as he said a few words relative to
his deceased daughter — whom he had loved so
fondly, and whom ho had that same day followed
to the tomb — the tears trickled from those eyes
which had never quailed nor grown dim when
amidst the din, the roar, the tumult, and the crash
of battle. I accepted the mission, and hastened to
perform it, — my fellow-servants imagining that I
was merely going on some ordinary errand on the
Marshal's behalf.

Issuing from the mansion, I entered a cab ; and
promising the driver a liberal fare, was whirled
rapidly along to the Luxembourg. A few weeks
back I had proceeded thither to make my appear-
ance as a witness in a matter where life was con-
cerned, in t'lie Chamber of Peers : I now repaired
to the same place in a matter where death was
concerned, in the prison of the edifice ! Solemn
thoughts were in my mind : my reflections were of
an awe-inspiring character. As the Marshal had
intimated, I found no difficulty in at once pro-
curing admission to a well-furnished apartment, in
which my unhappy master was confined. I was
permitted to be with him alone : and never shall I
forget that scene !

The Duke de Paulin was sitting upon the bed
with his arras folded across his chest, and his looks
bent downward. Whether it were that he did
not hear the door open and shut, nor the usher's
intimation that some one soug'jt his presence, —
or whether it were that he dared not immediately
meet my looks, and required time to summon up
a sufficiency of fortitude for that purpose,— I c;«n.
not say. Heaven aloue now knows ! — heaven
alone, besides that man himself, knew wont at
that instant was passing iu his mind ! I expe-
rienced a trouble such as I had never felt before —
an undeSnable sensation of mingled pity and ab-
horreBe«j — as if I were in the presence of some
hideous reptile which was nevertheless writhing in
death-agonies, so that it was possible to com-
passionate the tortures endured by a stricken
being, while it was impossible on the other hand
to avoid keeping in view the dread devastation it
had caused in its time.

Two or three minutes elapsed ere the Duke de
Paulin raised his countenance : and then, as ho
did slowly and gradually lift it, — heavens ! what a
ghastly face it was which thus revealed itself to
my view! Sunken were the cheeks —cavernous
the eyes— the skin looked like wrinkled parch-
meut upon the bones. I saw too that the hair
had grown many, many shades more gray than it
was when I first knew him : for then indeed it
was only just beginning to turn. And the eyes,—
their lustre was gone : they were dull as if tha
glaze of death were already upon those balls I
Then I observed his hands: they were so wasted
— so thin — that it was painful to regard them :
and the nails had a blueish tint as if the poisoa
which he had taken at his own mansion, still to
some little degree circulated in his veins. As for
his form, it was wasted to a shadow : he was
naturally of slender shape— but he was now a
mere skeleton; and his garments hung loosely
upon him. I was cruelly shocked by the spec-
tacle thus presented to my view ; and sinking upon

JOSEPH WILMOT; OB, THB MEMOIES OP A MAN- SEETAITT.

85

» chair, I could not stifle the sobs that rose up
into my throat.

"This is kind of you to come," said the unhappy
man, in a voice that was low and broken. " My
days would be numbered if left to be regulated by
the decree of justice : but my minutes are now
numbered, because I feel that life is ebbing out of
me. This is my supreme hour — I know that it is

60 she stood before me a short time back — she

raised her arm — and at the same time a cold icy
voice like that of death bade me prepare to go
hence !"

I gazed mournfully on the wretched man's
countenance : methought that bis intellects were
unsettled. He seemed to divine this conjecture
on my part ; for he went on addressing me in the
following manner : —

'•■ You believe that it was a mere vision of my
fancy — and you think that my reason is disturbed ?
But it is otherwise. Never was my mental per-
ception so clear as at this moment. When a man
is already looking death in the face, his sight be-
comes so keen that he can see things which remain
invisible to ordinary eyes. Joseph, she is present
in this room — she is here in her blood-stained
shroud — she is standing close by the very spot
where you are seated !"

I gave an involuntary start as the Duke de
Paulin thus spoke ; and I could not help glancing
quickly around. But the next moment ashamed
of that access of superstitious terror v.hicli had
seized upon me, I reverted my regards upon the
Duke — and said to him, "'Would it not be well
for you to have a physician— and — and — a
priest ?"

" Of what avail will either bo for me ?" he asked,
in that low hollow voice whicb. sounded as if it
came up from the tomb-like cavern of his own
heart. " No — the physician can do naught for my
body ; and the priest can do naught for my soul.
Both — both are condemned! Or else wherefore
does she remain standing there in that blood-
stained shroud ? Listen, Joseph ! Just now I
awoke as if from a long night which was one con-
tinuous and awful dream. But do you know what
it was that awoke me ? I will tell you. Gradually
methought the walls of this prison-room grew
lighter and clearer : they lost their opacity — until
at length they became diaphanous as glass, I
could look through them : I could behold all the
busy world of Paris — the multitudes thronging the
streets — the human tide flowing through the great
arteries as well as through the tiniest veins of the
vast city. But my looks were riveted on one
point— the church of the Madeleine. And the
walls of that church grew transparent as these of
nay prison-chamber. Deep down through the
marble pavement could my eyes penetrate ; and
the vaults were revealed to my gaze as plainly as
the pebbly bottom of a rivulet may be seen
through the pellucid water. And I beheld the lid
of a coffin slowly upraised — and a form rose
thence at the same time. Ah, Joseph ! where-
fore did they bury her in that blood-stained
shroud ?"

"For heaven's sake, Monsieur le Due, speak
not thus !" I imploringly exclaimed, as I felt a cold
shudder gradually creeping through me from the
crown of my head to the very soles of my feet.
** Madame la Duchesse was buried in a befitting

manner. Of this rest assured, — and banish that
phantasy from your mind."

" Joseph, it is no phantasy," answered the Duke,
in the same sepulchral tone as before : and his
haggard glazing eyes were fixed upon me. " You
have been deceived — the world has been deceived
likewise: she was buried, I toll you, in a gory
shroud— and the Marshal ordered that it should
be so. Did I not see her arise slowly from her
coffin ? did I not behold her come gliding through
the air towards me ? did I not tremble as she en-
tered this room, passing through the wall of glass
as easily as she had burst the bonds of her cere-
ments ? — and do I not behold her now, close be-
hind where you are seated ?"

"Monsieur le Due!" I exclaimed, starting up
from my chair : for ihere was something terrible
in all this; and the diseased imagination of the
guilty man seemed even to m>/ conception to raise
up the ghastly form which was thus haunting him-
self.

" Wherefore are you thus incredulous ?" de-
manded the Duke in his low cavernous voice. "I
tell you that I beheld her come— I felt blowing
upon me the cold ice-wind which wafted her hither
— I feel its influence now, that glacial atmosphere
which ever environs the dead ! Yes, she came —
and she bade me prepare to die. In the hour
which is now passing, shall I have ceased to be.
Yes, yes — she gazes upon me now, with the ghast-
liest significancy ! — her livid lips quiver slightly,
as if words are wavering upon them — but I hear
them not. And just now her father came — and he
stood by her side: but he saw her not — though I
saw her tJien, and see her now, as plainly as I be-
hold you !"

" Monsieur le Due," I said, " I conjure — I entreat
that you will permit me to summon persons hither

the physician — the chaplain — the governor of

the prison "

" No — I charge you to remain !" interrupted the
Duke peremptorily. " What can the physician do
for me ? Ask me what I feel ? — but can he pre-
scribe against the presentiments of death ? Or
what can the priest do ? Drone over to me the
same prayers that he has recited so often to other
inmates of this room, — prayers which he is paid for
thus repeating, and in which there is everything
mercenary, but no sanctity. No — leave your phy-
sician and your priest to those who require them :
I need them not. But my time is passing, and the
destroyer comes on apace. Already while we have
been conversing these last few minutes, has sJie in
her blood-stained shroud drawn nearer towards
me the space between us is diminished !"

"Monsieur le Due," I said, in a tone of fervent
entreaty, " let us kneel together, and I will pray
with you. You are not about to die yet : but still
your time is short, and you should turn it to the
best account,"

"Thus likewise spoke the Marshal to me ere
now— but I would not hear him:" — and for a mo.
ment there was a kind of acrimonious vehemence
in the Duke's manner.

" Pardon me," I said ; " but you were wrong to
treat the Marshal thus. He came from the best of
motives "

"Talk to me not of him !" interrupted the Duke
petulantly : then immediately recovering his deep
lugubrious monotony of tone, he said, " I had nc

36

JOSEPH WILMOT; OB, THB MBM0IE3 OF A. MAN-SKEVANT.

i parting words for him — it is to j/our ear, Joseph,
i that thej are to be breathed. Listen then ! You
I will speak to my son — you must entreat Theobald
I not to look with too much horror upon the memory
of his miserable sire. You must tell him that with
my last words I gave my full assent to his union
with the object of his love when the proper time
shall come. But bid him cherish her, and cling to
her : bid him beware of the _first dispute ! For
when once angry words have issued from the lips
of husband and wife, they do not evaporate into
thin air — but they fall upon the pathway of their
life : they are evil seed which take root, spring up
into rank weeds, and become frightfully prolific of
evil. Tell my sou all this, Joseph — and bid him
regard his wretched sire's last words as he would
a revelation from the dead. You promise me
this?"

" I do. Monsieur leDuc," I answered in a broken
voice, for I was profoundly affected. " Oh, you are
very ill !" I exclaimed, smitten with consternation
at the sudden pallor which overspread the Duke's
countenance — a pallor which was different from
the ghastliness which had previously sate upon it ;
for it looked like the whiteness of death.

'•' She is drawing nearer still," he said in a voice
which even in a few swift brief moments since he
had last spoken, had become perceptibly altered :
it was weak, feeble, and gasping — and his whole
form appeared to be quivering as if an ice-wind
were indeed blowing over him. "Yes," he con-
tinued, '■■ my last moments are at band. I feel — I
feel that I — I— am dying !"— and he sank down
upon the bed on which he had hitherto remained
Eeated.

I rushed to the door which had been locked
upon me on my entrance : I beat against it with
my fists— I clamoured for succour. In a few mo-
ments it was opened : the usher who had con-
ducted me thither, made his appearance — I told
him that the Duke was dying— and he sped away
for medical aid. I remained alone with the
wretched man — but nob alone in his estimation.
^sTo — another was there likewise ! I loosened bis
neckcloth— I gave him water to drink— I bathed
his temples— 1 raised him upon the pillows. He
gasped heavily as if his breath were failing him :
but his eyes remained riveted as if upon an object
which was visible only to himself— and I knew
that it was the ghastly spectre which his fevered
fancy had conjured up to haunt him.

"See, see, Joseph!" he said, faintly, yet in an
excited manner: "she is advancing — Death has
taken her form, in which to approach me — her
breath is ice — it blows upon me colder and colder

Oh I she comes nearer and neaier I Ah !

shield me from her !"

His eyes glared horribly : he was imder the
influence of so frightful a terror that I myself was
frightened : it was a dread thing indeed to be thus
all alone with that dying murderer. The door
opened : the usher re-appeared, accompanied by a
medical man, and some female — doubtless to serve
as a nurse.

"Oh, let them all come and stand round my
bed!" groaned and gasped the guilty man, his
eyes still glaring horribly, and his entire form
shrinking as it were from the presence of the
ghastly object which still remained palpable to
his fancy. "Let them all stand before me — let

them shield me—

She comes,

comes !"

— Oh, let them keep her off!
she comes My God, she

" A priest ! a priest !" I hastily whispered to
the usher : " he is dying !"

" The chaplain is on his way hither," responded
the official : and scarcely were the words spoken,
when a venerable priest made his appearance.

" Oh ! shield, shield me !" again gasped forth
the perishing Duke : and now my ear caught the
dread death-rattle in his throat. '• Shield mo, I
say ! — she advances in her blood-stained shroud !

Oh, it is a bloud-mist through which I behold

her — but her breath is cold Ah ! she coraes! —

she passes between you Xo, no— not yet^

no My God ! ^'o, spare me I Ah !"

And all was over. That last ejaculation was
uttered at the instant that the venerable priest,
kneeling at the side of the couch, presented the
crucifix to the ^nurderer whose soul was then
flitting away from its mortal tenement. And as
if inspired by a simultaneous feeling of the most
solemn awe, — the usher, the physician, the nurse,
and myself, we all knelt down by the side of that
couch and prayed for the soul of the Duke de
Paul in.

CHAPTEE LXXXIV.

THE night's WOEK.

Ok issuing forth in profound mournfulness, and
with a heavy weight upon my mind, from the
prison of the Luxembourg, I was stopped a mo-
ment by the governor who requested me to avoid
giving publicity to the last fearful moments of the
deceased murderer. I assured him that such was
already my intention ; and I returned to the man-
sion where the Marshal was awaiting me. I re-
ported to him everything that had taken place :
he listened with a dread interest; and when I
had done speaking, he reflected profoundly.

" Theobald will be here to-morrow, or the day
after at latest," he at length said: "think you
that it will be expedient to repeat to him every
word that his miserable father uttered r"

" Yes — every word which regards himself !" was
my firmly given answer. " I have promised the
Duke that I would faithfully fulfil the mission
entrusted to me ; and it is too sacred — too solemn
to be violated."

" Yes — you are right, Joseph," rejoined the
Marshal, after another interval of reflection: "it
is your duty, and you must accomplish it. Ifow
go and send the intendant of the household to
me."

I obeyed the Marshal's order ; and having done
so, repaired to my own chamber, without even
mentioning to any one of my fellow-servants that
I knew the Duke de Paulin to be no more.
I remained in my room in solemn meditation
until nine o'clock, — when I descended to the ser-
vant's hall. I was then told that the Duke was
dead ; and I received the intelligence as if pre-
viously unacquainted with it — for I was by no
means desirous to be questioned on the subject.
The evening meal was partaken of in gloomy and
mournful silence. So soon as it was over, the

JOSEVH WILMOT ; OE, THK MEMOIRS OP A MAN-SERVANT.

37

intendant, who presided, directed the under-
servants to be summoned from their own hall;
and when the entire domestic establishment was
congregated, the intendant addressed us in the
following manner : —

" J am now about to speak by command of the
Marshal, who exercises within these walls a para-
mount authority in his capacity of our young
ducal master's guardian. Listen, then, to what I
have to say. In the course of the coming night
strange sounds and noises may reach your ears :
but you are not to be alarmed— and you will keep
your chambers. On no account and on no pre-
text is any one to issue forth. For the present I
can say no more — I am forbidden to be explicit :
but in the morning you will comprehend where-
fore these commands hare been issued through
me."

The intendant ceased ; and not a syllable was
spoken by any of his listeners. We all seemed to
feel that whatsoever his solemnly mysterious
allusions pointed at, was a subject too sacred for
the display of curiosity. We separated to our
respective chambers; and no doubt all the rest
felt as I did — namely, under the influence of a
species of awe-inspiring terror. But a terror at
what ? the reader may ask. I can scarcely give
any explanation. It was not that I feared any-
thing would happen to myself: but there was
something so strange, so ominous in the mandate
which had been issued, and in the warning which
had prepared us to bear unusual sounds and
noises, that it was impossible to avoid expe-
riencing a feeling which cannot be otherwise de-
fined than that of a vague and unknown terror.

To think of retiring to rest, was — for tne at
least — out of the questian. The death-scene at the
Luxembourg Prison haunted me with all its hor-
rors ; and now too I was every moment expecting
to catch the first of those sounds — whatever they
were to be — of which the intendant had spoken.
Thus were my ears keenly alive to the faintest
noise which met them. The creaking of a board
— the rustling of the leaves in the garden — the
whirr of the bat's wings in the air,— everything
startled me. Frankly do I admit that my sensa-
tions were tinctured with superstition — and yet in
no such definite way that there was any particular
thing which I apprehended. One hour passed —
and at about eleven o'clock I beard footsteps and
voices in the garden upon which my window
looked. The night was exceedingly dark : but
even if it had been quite light, I should not have
opened the casement— for after the intendant's
injunction, I conceived it would be improper and
indelicate to exhibit any curiosity. But I sat in
my chamber, and listened. I heard the sounds of
heavy wheels rolling on the gravel-walk beneath ;
and I recognised them to be those of barrows
which men were bringing into the premises. Then
I heard the continuous noise of bricks being shot
out of those barrows ; and these were succeeded
by the clattering of trowels, as if masons were
engaged in some particular work. But what could
it be ? Not the faintest idea could I form ; and I
sat conjecturing while the sounds continued and
the work went on.

Thus the greater portion of the night was
passed; and I sought not my couch. Dayli^t
came— but still I did not open the window; and

at about five o'clock in the morning the work,
whatever it was, appeared to have been completed,
— for the clatter of the trowels had ceased — the
men were wheeling away the barrows — I heard
some one who remained sweeping the gravel-walk
— and then all was still.

"What could it have meant?" I asked myself
for the hundredth time ; and then retired to rest,
— sleep soon stealing upon me from the effects of
exhaustion.

It was eight o'clock when I awoke. I felt
weak, ill, and languid, as well as deeply distressed
in spirits. Having performed my toilet, I went
down stairs ; and at once proceeded into the
garden, — where I found a dozen of my fellow-
servants grouped together and gaaing with a sort
of bewildered awe towards the windows of the
apartment which bad been the scene of the fearful
tragedy. But those windows— where were they P
Nothing but screens of brick and mortar met my
view :— compact masonry filled up the spaces in
which the windows were set. For upwards of a
minute I stood riveted to the spot, — my looks
riveted likewise on those results of the night's
mysterious work. At length I gazed slowly round
upon my fellow-servants ; and Amelie, with a pale
countenance, drew me somewhat aside, — saying in
a low half-hushed voice, " It was by the Marshal's
order ! The intendant has just explained all that
he left unsaid last evening. And not only the
windows, but the door also of that room is walled
up. Not an article has been removed thence:
everything belonging to the chamber is therein
immured!"

"But what could be the Marshal's feeling in
taking so strange a step ?" I inquired, well nigh
lost in utter astonishment.

" He would suffer nothing which belonged to
his deceased daughter to be destroyed ; and yet it
was impossible to leave the very furniture which
was blood-stained with the tragedy, to be used in
that apartment, and the sight of it constantly re-
minding whomsoever should enter of the catas-
trophe which there took place. And it was like*
wise out of regard for the feelings of the young
Duke — who will doubtless be here to-day — that
the Marshal was anxious to prevent him from
witnessing the scene of his mother's death and of
his father's crime. Therefore to accomplish all
these aims, there was but one course to pursue
and he has pursued it 1"

The explanation was complete enough : but it
efi"aced not from my mind the painful and almost
dismayed sensation which the walling-up of that
room had produced upon it. There appeared to
me something dreadful— I might even say horrible
—in the idea of thus converting the scene of the
tragedy into a mausoleum eternally enshrining the
blood-stained objects which bore tremendous testi-
mony to the foul deed. It seemed to be likewise a
strange morbid feeling— a false and unnatural one
— that bad preferred such sepulchral preservation
of those fearful relics to their complete and imme-
diate destruction. And as for sparing the feelings
of him who now bore the title of Duke de Faulin,
by the walling- up of that chamber, it appeared to
me a perfect mockery : for never could he set foot
in the garden without having his eyes riveted upon
the walls which shut in the place where his mother
had perished so miserably and where his father

38

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OB, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT.

bad sinned so darkly. Better, better far would it
have been to renovate that chamber completely —
to paper, to paint, to decorate, to furnish it anew
— and thus destroy as much as possible its identity
with the scene of the crime.

Such were the reflections vrhich I made to my-
self as I slowly passed away from the garden.
After breakfast I issued from the mansion, with
the intention of calling at the old banker's resi-
dence to inquire concerning Mademoiselle Delacour :
for since the fearful tragedy I had found no oppor-
tunity to pay this mark of respect. I felt but too
well assured that the young lady must have been
deeply affected by those fearful and startling
circumstances. She knew how delicately and
keenly susceptible was Theobald's mind ; and she
must have doubtless trembled — as I myself trem-
bled— lest his very reason should rock and reel,
and perhaps be utterly overthroNvn, by the quick
succession of horrors which were smiting him blow
upon blow.

On reaching the banker's house, I learnt that
Mademoiselle Delacour was so much worse, and
her illness had become so exceedingly seripus, that
little short of a miracle could save her life. I was
profoundly afflicted, — afflicted on account of herself
— afflicted on that of Theobald. Shocking would
it be if that fair flower — one of the fairest on the
face of the earth — should be destined to wither
and perish in the earliest stage of its bloom ! — and
ebockiug too if the unfortunate young Duke de
Paulia were to have the death of his well-beloved
superadded to the catalogue of calamities which he
had already so deeply and bitterly to deplore !

With such gloomy reflections in my mind, I
wandered away from the banker's house, and
roamed about the streets of Paris for two or three
hours : for I liked not to return to the mansion
where everything so forcibly reminded me of what
had taken place ; and under existing circum-
stances 1 could not do so ungracious and indelicate
a thing as to demand my immediate dismissal.
After thus roaming about till past mid-day, I
entered a coft'ee-house to take some little refresh-
ment : for I had eaten nothing at breakfast, and
still felt faint, languid, and unwell. I took up a
newspaper — and therein read an account of Made-
moiselle Ligny's examination before the Chancellor
of France and other authorities on the previous
day. Mademoiselle Ligny had conducted herself
with a dignified firmness at certain parts of the
examination — but at other stages, she was dread-
fully afflicted. She had indignantly repudiated
the idea of being accessory before the fact, to the
murder of^the Duchess de Paulin : she denied ever
having been improperly intimate with the Duke ;
and persisted in averring that the sentiment which
had reigned between them was merely a Platonic
friendship. It appeared from the report in the
newspaper, that the Chancellor of France had
treated her with the greatest harshness, and had
even assumed the demeanour of a cowardly bully
towards her. He had endeavoured to coerce her
into a confession that she herself was the whole
and sole cause of the dreadful tragedy. She ad-
mitted, with tears in her eyes, that the allegation
might unfortunately to a certain extent be correct:
but she added that as she was innocent of anything
immoral in respect to the Duke, she could not pos-
siblj be held responsible for the lengths to which

the jealousy of the Duchess had run, and the
crime into which that jealousy had h€lped to goad
the Duke. Several letters, whicti the deceased
nobleman had written to Mademoiselle Li^nv, and
which the police had found in her writing-desk,
were produced and read ; and they certainly tended
to corroborate the averment, singular as it may
appear, that it was simply a Platonic friendship
which had subsisted between them. After the
examination, Mademoiselle Ligny had been or-
dered back to the Conciergerie : but tho newspaper
report concluded by expressing a belief that she
would shortly be discharged, as there was evidently
not the slightest ground for implicating her crimi-
nally.

Scarcely had I finished reading this narrative
in the journal, when Monsieur Lamotte entered
the coffee-house. Immediately accosting me, he
shook me warmly by the hand ; and the conversa-
tion naturally turned upon the recent deplorable
occurrences. He informed me that Mademoiselle
Ligny had been liberated that same forenoon : for
that happening to pass the Conciergerie he had
seen her enter a hackney-coach, and was told by
some one on the spot who she was. He assured
me that she looked so pale, so thin, and careworn
— and that her figure was so bowed down — she
had the air of a woman of fifty ; and he was aston-
ished when I told him that she was in reality
but a few months past thirty.

It was verging towards three o'clock in the
afternoon when I returned to the mansion ; and
I was informed by the gate-porter that the young
Duke de Paulin had arrived about a couple of
hours back. On repairing to the servants' hall,
I learnt that Theobald had been closeted with the
Marshal from the moment of his arrival. I
tremblingly and anxiously inquired how he seemed
to bear the weight of accumulated calamities ; and
I was told that he looked the very picture of blank
despair as with slow and languid step he had
descended from the post-chaise which brought him
back to a home where misfortunes had preceded
him like a ravaging army. Judging from the
keenness of his susceptibilities, I had expected to
hear that he was overwhelmed with grief, and that
he had sunk weeping and lamenting bitterly into
the arms of the foremost who were present to
receive him. I liked not therefore the account
that was given me : it seemed -ominous and fore-
boding to an alarming extent. Infinitely rather
would I have heard that his grief had displayed
itself passionately — violently — vehemently, than
that he should have worn that look of blank,
settled, hopeless despair.

I had not been in the mansion many minutes,
when a bell rang; and the valet who answered the
summons, returned to inform me that I was to
proceed to the apartment where the Marshal and
the young Duke were together. I felt a sickness
at the heart — for I had a most painful duty to
perform: but I nerved myself as well as I could to
accomplish it. The instant I opened the door of
the apartment, the Marshal came forward ; and
bending upon me a significant look, as much as to
bid me execute my mission with as much caution
and delicacy as possible, — he issued from the room.
I was now alone with the youugDuke j and he was
standing near a centre-table, with his arms folded
across his chest, and his looks bent downward.

JOSEPIT WItMOT ; OR, THE MEAfOrRS OP A MAN-STIKVAVT.

39

His form, so slightly modellerl, was entirely motion-
less ; and he might have been taken for a statue
placed there. Pale too as a marble statue was his
countenance; and when he slowly turned it towards
me as I approached him, I was struck even far
more by his look than I had been by the descrip-
tion given me by the servants of his appearance :
for in that look there was indeed all the utter
blankness of despair, — a despair which had reached
that extreme point at which the advent of hope
seemed impossible — a despair which proclaimed
that the unfortunate young' man felt he had no
more concern with the affairs of this life, and that
his heart was as completely entombed in a living
sepulchre, as the contents of the chamber of the
tragedy were themselves immured within walls
through which no light could penetrate.

" Joseph," he said, in a voice that was low and
deep as well as hollow and monotonous, "you have
a message for me from my late father. Tell it me
at once. I know that your good feeling and your
generous heart will prompt you to spare painful
allusions as much as possible : but you need not
be thus considerate. I am in that state in which
a man must know everything that concerns him;
and whether it be good or whether it be evil,
matters indeed but little— for earth has no joy of
which I can now become sensible, and it has no
calamity which can do me more barm than I have
already experienced. Speak then frankly, my friend,
— for such indeed have vou been towards me."

He took my hand and held it for more than a
minute in his own : he did not however press it :
the action on his part was a testimonial of kind-
ness— but it was performed without animation —
all energetic vitality seemed to be crushed out of
him. 1 was so deeply affected that when I en-
deavoured to speak my voice was choked with
sobs, ill-subdued and convulsing ; and the tears
ran down my cheeks. I pressed the hand which
in a way so dead had taken mine : but it lay like
that of a corpse within my clasp. Not a muscle
of his countenance moved : but he gazed upon me
with the prolonged, fixed, unearthly look of illimit-
able despair.

" What did my father say, Joseph i" he again
asked.

" He bade me entreat you," I responded, now
recovering the faculty of speech — but yet scarcely
able to trust myself to utterance, lest my affliction
should gush fdrth in a passionate ebullition, — "he
bade me entreat you not to look with too much
horror upon the memory of your unhappy parent."

" If there be forgiveness in heaven," answered
the young Duke, still in the low deep voice and
with the cold rigid manner of a stupendous de-
spair, "there must be forgiveness upon earth j
and who should be the first to forgive, if not a
wretched father's own son? What else did mj
sire bid you say to me ?"

"That with his last words he gave his full
assent to your union with Mademoiselle Dela-
cour "

But here I stopped suddenly short, smitten with
the dreadful idea that it was something which
bordered upon a cruel mockery to speak of an
alliance with one who lay at the point of death.

" 1 see that you have something to tell me in
respect to Eugenie," said the young Duke. " What
is it ?"

" She is ill— she is very ill," I hesitatingly an-
swered,

" Better for her that she were dead," rejoined
Theobald, " than that she should live to cherish a
love for one who can never become hers. Because
marriage is a festival — nuptials are associated with
ideas of happiness — wine sparkles in the glass^
the scene is decorated with flowers — but it were a
mockery for a living corpse as I am, to raise the
goblet to his lips or to place roses upon his broWi
And now proceed, Joseph. What else did my
father say ?"

" Monsieur le Due," I answered, " it is needless
to repeat another syllable that fell from your sire's
lips."

"And why so?" asked Theobald. "Speak,
Joseph— do not hesitate. My grandfather the
Marshal has informed me that you faithfully pro-
mised my dying parent to fulfil the supreme mis-
sion with which he entrusted you; and you must
accomplish your pledge."

It instantaneously occurred to me that if
anything could soften the cold rigidity of the
young Duke's despair, and bring his mind back,
however slightly, to a healthier tone — it would ba
to get him to speak more and more of Made-
moiselle Eugenie. I accordingly said, "The late
Duke's parting words conveyed an admirable
counsel; and he entreated that you would bear it
in mind as if it were something spoken from the
tomb. He bade me tell you. Monsieur le Due, to
cherish her whom you love, and to beware of the
first dispute which ruffles the tenour of married
life. And now I have faithfully acquitted myself
of the mission which I undertook."

" I thank you, Joseph," replied the young
Duke. " And now leave me."

" Oh, no !" I exclaimed : " I cannot leave you
thus ! I know — I feel how shocking it is to talk
of love under such circumstances as these : but
remember. Monsieur le Due, Mademoiselle Dela-
cour has not offended you I Love has its duties
as well as its delights; and no misfortune which
overtakes you, can absolve you from that duty
which you owe to the object of your love. I tell
you. Monsieur le Due, she is ill "

" 111 I" he repeated : and for the first time
during that most painful interview there was a
slight tremulousness in his hitherto statue-lik«
form.

"Yes— ill, Monsieur le Due!" I vehemently
exclaimed. " I told you so ere now. Mademoiselle
Delacour is very ill "

" Very ill !" he repeated : and the tremalous-
ness which had swayed his form was transfused
into his accents.

" She is very ill," I continued : " she has been
ill for some time — ever since you left "

"Poor Eugenie!' — and the Duke was mora
and more moved.

"Yes— she is very ill — dangerously so! Oh,
Monsieur le Due, she is stretched upon a couoh
whence she may perhaps never rise again !— and
will you not now devote one thought to her who
has loved you so tenderly and so well— whosa
beauty was your admiration — whose enthusiasm
was transfused into your own soul?— will you not
think of her who is sure to be thinking of ^om, and
who perhaps in her dying moments is foadly
though faintly murmuring your name ?"

40

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OE, THE MEMOIRS OP A MAX-S-BErAITr.

"Eugenie djing! — is it possible?"' exclaimed
the young Duke, in accents the wildness of which
did indeed contrast strangely with his former low,
deep, hollow tone of despair. "Joseph^ you are

saying all this to move me— to excite me But

no, no — I am dead to everything in this world !"

"Then, Monsieur le Due," I exclaimed, "you
are dead to that love which exists in fondest
Titality in the heart of her who cherishes it to-
wards you! And, oh ! what would your feelings
be if a messenger came this moment with the
tidings that she was no more— and that in her last
moments she had craved but a single instant
of your presence !"

"Enough, Joseph — enough!" exclaimed Theo-
bald: and sinking upon a chair, he burst into
tears.

This spectacle gladdened my heart. Yes, reader
— I use the phrase deliberately : it gladdened my
heart. I had endeavoured to bring this scene
about — to make this impression — to create this
revulsion of feelings. Even though I pierced his
soul with the intelligence of Eugenie's alarming
illness, yet I knew that it was better to goad him
thus into the susceptibility of emotions, than to
leave him in that unnatural condition of blank and
numbed despair. The rock had been stricken —
the living waters gushed forth— and I felt that I
tad acted wisely and well.

" Yes, Joseph, you are right," said the young
Duke, suddenly springing up from his seat and
grasping me by the band. " 1 must not think of
myself alone — I have no right to renounce the
whole world so long as it includes her! Ah, I
feel that if she were well and with me now, she
would minister the softest, the sweetest, the holiest
consolations. But, good God ! what calamities
have overtaken me !" — and pressing both his
bands to his wildly throbbing brows, he murmured,
" My God, my God ! why was I ever born to ex-
perience all this ?"

" And now again you are wrong. Monsieur le
Due," I gently whispered, as I approached him :
" it is not for men to demand an account of the
Eternal for his actions."

The young Duke bent upon me a look of the
deepest contrition and humility ; and taking my
hand, he did now press it warmly, as he said,
" Yes, you are right ! Step by step you are teach-
ing me my duties. Oh, that you had been with
me when first I received the intelligence of this
dreadful deed ! I should not have been haunted
by all the horrible thoughts which rose up, gaunt
and ghastly, and spectre-like in my mind !"

" And now. Monsieur le Due," I said, seeing
the iufluence I had obtained over him, and deter-
mined to exercise it, as I hoped and trusted, to
bis advantage, — "you will make some communi-
cation to Mademoiselle Delacour — you will send
her a message— or you will go to her !"

"I dare not go to her at once," replied the
young Duke t " it were indecent — it were un-
seemly for me to take such a step within the first
few hours of my return to this mansion of dreadful
memories. But go you, Joseph — see Eugenie's
maid - and through her transmit on my behalf a
suitable message to her mistress. Say that to-
morrow at an early hour in the forenoon I will be
there. But one word more, Joseph : " — and then
afier a brief pause, and now speaking in a loner

tone, Theobald said, "But if her illness be still

very, very alarming — if there be any danger

Oh, then come bacfc to me quick, and I tcill speed
thither at once !"

I departed to execute this commission. I made
the best of my way to the banker's residence : but
on reaching it, I was smitt-en with dismay on per-
ceiving all the blinds drawn down and the gate
closed. Inquiry was unnecessary: I nevertheless
made it — but it only elicited the response which I
had anticipated. Poor Eugenie was no more !

CHAPTER LXXXV.

THBOBAXD.

Iw the course of my career I had on various occa-
sions found myself compelled to undertake dis-
agpreeable and painful duties : but what task could
possibly be more afflicting to my own feelings than
this which I had now to perform ? As 1 slowly
retraced my way towards the mansion, I walked
through the streets in a state of dismayed conster-
nation : it appeared indeed as if some tremendous
calamity had fallen upon my own head. I re-
member that as I thought of what the conse-
quences might be — or rather wondered what they
would be — I closed my eyes for a moment, as if
by thus obscuring my outward vision I could shut
out some hideous ghastly object that was haunting
my mind. As I neared the mansion, I slackened
my pace more and more : I could have wished that
it was still miles and miles away, so that the fatal
instant that I so much dreaded might be postponed
as long as possible.

As 1 entered the gate, it occurred to me that
I had better perhaps first of all communicate with
the Marshal, and suffer him to break the cruel
intelligence to his grandson : but then I remem-
bered that the commission had been entrusted to
me, and that it was indeed my duty to perform
this painful task myself. I accordingly proceeded
to the apartment where I had left the young
Duke; and I found him there alone. lie was
seated at a table, on which his elbows rested ; and
his countenance was buried in his bands. He was
evidently in profound thought,— so deeply absorbed
in his reflections that he had not heard me enter
the room. I advanced close up to the table, and
gently placed my hand upon his shoulder. He
slowly raised his countenance, and looked upon me
in such a strange vacant manner, that I was
seized with mingled alarm and horror : for I fan-
cied that his intellects were altogether deranged.

" Well, Joseph, what is it now ?" he inquired,
with a sort of listless apathy. " Ah, 1 recollect !
— you went to convey a message to Eugenie :" —
and now he all in a moment seemed to become
more intelligent.

"Yes, Monsieur le Due," I answered, in a
mournful tone, and without the slightest endeavour
to banish that same melancholy from my looks :
for I wished him to read therein the dread intel-
ligence that I had to impart.

"Enough, Joseph!" he said: "I understand it
all!"— and again did his countenance put on that
look of blank fixed despair which it had worn on
Ids arrival. " Eugenie is dead— I know it— I read

[

JOSEPH WILMOT; OB, TffE MEMOIRS OF A MAX-SEEVAST.

41

it iu your face. I expected that it would be so : a
strange presentiment told me that she was no
more J and if it were possible for this heart of
mine to be now moved by any feeling, it would be
one of joy to reflect that she is gone from such a
dreadful world as this. O Eugenie — dearest
Eugenie ! we shall meet in another and a better
world! — we shall meet in heaven — and such love
as we have experienced is fitted only for the purest
and holiest of places ! It was too ethereal for a
sphere so gross as this. Yes, my adored Eugenie !
you are now an angel in heaven — you are looking
down upon me from that empyrean height to

which my own spirit yearns to ascend And

God in his mercy grant that it be not retained
much longer within this mortal tenement !"

There was a deep and exquisite pathos in the

young nobleman's language and tone ; and the

same feeling blended indescribably with that look

of despair which sate upon his countenance. I

68.

said all that I could to strengthen his mind : but
as for consolation or solace, there was none to
offer— and it would have been a veritable mockery
of his feelings to speak to him of such solace in
connexion with the things of the earth. The
young Duke listened to me in silence — and his
eyes were fixed upon me : but I know not whether
he paid much attention to what I said, or whether
his thoughts were elsewhere 1 however be-
lieve the latter. I went forth from his presence,
and at once sought the Marshal.

"Pardon me. Monsieur le Comte," I said, for
the Marshal bore the rank of Count, — " for ven-
turing to intrude my opinion under such delicate
circumstances, but I fear that a certain piece of
intelligence which I have just been in duty bound
to communicate to your grandson "

"And that intelligence?" demanded the Mar-
shal anxiously.

"Mademoiselle Delacour's death !" I responded.

42

JOSEPH WILilOT ; OB, THE MEMOIES OP A. MAN-SEBVANT.

" Ah ! she is dead ?" ejaculated the Marshal :
and then in a profoundly mournful tone, he said,
" I comprehend you, Joseph — you fear that my
grandson's brain is unsettled. That apprehension
likewise fills my own mind. A watch must be
kept upon him : but yet he himself must remain
unconscious of it. Time perhaps will heal the
wounds which these terrific calamities hare in*
flicted "

"Think you, Monsieur le Comte," I asked,
" that it is wise and prudent for the Duke to re-
main beneath this roof?"

" I have already spoken to him upon the sub-
ject—but he has given me no decisive answer.
To-morrow he will visit the family vault in which
his mother's remains are deposited ; and he ex-
pressed his resolve to follow those of his father to
the grave. Afterwards t will bear him away with
me to my own country-seat ; and it is my wish
that you should remain attached to his Service —
for be has conceived a friendship for you."

I could oflfer no objection : for whatever my own
inclinations might have been, t dared not think of
abandoning the unfortunate young Duke under
existing circumstances. The Marshal said that he
should endeavour to make some arrangement by
which my own sleeping -chamber should be near
that of bis grandson ; and he left me for the pur-
pose of rejoining him in the drawing-room where 1
had left him. But in the evening the Marshal
took an opportunity of speaking to me again.

" I informed my grandson," he said, " that you
had consented to remain attached to his person. 1
suggested as delicately as possible that it would
p 'rhaps be as well if he chose an apartment to
wbich an ante-chamber is attached, — so that you
might occupy the latter : but he expressed his in-
tention to retain the room which has always been
his own within the walls of this mansion. There
is a bed-chamber underneath it ; and this I should
recommend you to take as your quarters. I know
that with the good feeling you entertain towards
my unhappy grandson, it is not too much to ask
you to sit up and listen attentively during the
earlier part of the night, — so that if you should
hear him pacing overhead in an agitated manner,
you could go up to him on some pretence — you
might do your best to console him — or you could
eome and arouse me."

1 promised to do what the Marshal requested at
my hands j and I repaired to the servants' hall to
inform one of the housemaids that I was to occupy
the particular chamber which has just been men-
tioned. No one had slept there for a considerable
time ; and the housemaid informed me that there
■were no draperies to the bed — that it was too late
in the evening to put them up — but that on the
morrow the chamber should be restored to its
wonted state of comfort. I assured her that I
eared nothing for the absence of the draperies j
and as the bell now rang to give the signal that
the Duke de Paulin was about to retire, I
hastened up- stairs to attend upon him. On join-
ing the young nobleman in his own chamber, I
found that his look and manner were still full ot
that strange vacancy which had so much shocked
and alarmed me on my return with the intelligence
of Eugenie's death. I endeavoured to give the
conversation such a turn as to enable me to ex-
patiate upon the necessity of human beings arm-

ing themselves with all becoming fortitude to meet
and endure whatsoever inflictions it might please
heaven to send upon their heads. The young
Duke listened — but not in the manner I could
have wished ; and I was compelled to arrive at the
painful conclusion that the influence which a few
hours back I had succeeded in obtaining over him,
was now completely gone. He spoke to me
kindly — he regarded me with friendship— he would
not permit me to perform a single menial office in
respect to his night-toilet : but he said nothing
which enabled me to hope that my words produced
a salutary effect upon his mind. When he was
nearly disapparelled, he put on a dressing-gown
and said, " I am going to sit up awhile, and look

over some letters they are Eugenie's ere I

retire to rest,"

"Will you permit me," I asked, "to remain
with you until you do think fit to seek your
couch ?"

"No," rejoined the Duke : "it is unnecessary,
Joseph — I would fain be alone. With these letters
before me, I can fancy that I am communing with
the spirit of my beloved Eugenie ; and this de-
lusion would not remain with me, unless I were

altogether by myself. Go, my dear friend ■

and perhaps when you return to me in the
morning "

He stopped short; and I said, "Yes— heaven
grant that I may find you with a mind strength-
ened— and if not consoled, at all events prepared
to endure its burden with a becoming fortitude !"

He shook hands with me ; and I quitted the
chamber. As I was descending the stairs, the
Marshal beckoned me into his own apartment,
which was on the same floor as the room that I
was to occupy.

'•' How seems my grandson now F' inquired the
veteran.

" I scarcely know what to think. Monsieur le
Comte," was my answer. "I like not that strange
despairing vacancy of look — that self-abandonment
as it were to utter hopelessness. Would that I
could see him weep bitterly and give way to the
tide of affliction ! — for all this would relieve his
heart. t)r else 1 could wish that he exhibited a
strong fortitude — or a true Christian resignation :
but his mood evinces nothing of all this !"

" What can we do, Joseph ?" said the Marshal.
" To insist upon placing any one with him, would
betray the apprehensions which we entertain, and
perhaps have the effect of putting certain ideas
into his own head. No — all that can be done is
for you to listen, as I have suggested ; and I do

not no, I do not think that the poor boy will

lay violent hands upon himself,"

I quitted the Marshal, and retired to my own
chamber. I sate down and listened attentively;
and during the first hour I every now and then
heard the young Duke moving over head. Then,
when the sounds had ceased for some time, I crept
noiselessly up the staircase — and Ustened at his
door. At first the silence was so dead that a cold
terror crept over me ; and 1 cannot explain how
immense was my relief when my ear caught the
sounds of regular breathing from within. I con-
tinued to listen with my own breath suspended;
and at length feeling convinced that the young
Duke had retired to rest and was asleep, I stole
down the stairs again. The Marshal appeared a

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OB, THE MEMOIES OP A MAN-SEEVAXT.

43

the door of his own chamber : he had caught the
sound of my footsteps, lightly though I trod ; —
and as he himself was full of nervous trepidation
on his grandson's account, he came forth to learn
what I had to say. I gave him the satisfactory
intelligence that the object of our solicitude was
now sleeping; and the Marshal, with a beam of
joy upon his countenance, remarked, " It is a good
si^n that he should thus be enabled to slumber.
Let us hope that be will awake in a frame of mind
that will cease to fill us with alarm."

I fervently echoed this aspiration, and once
more retired to my own chamber. StUl I did not
immediately seek my couch : I sat up and listened
till considerably past midnight : but there was no
sound of the young Duke moving about. I
thought that I might now venture to lie down ;
and as my lamp was on the verge of extinction, I
hastened to put off my apparel.

It was some time before slumber began to steal
upon my eyes : for my mind was filled with many
painful thoughts. At length however my ideas
grew more and more confused — a dreamy repose
came over me— and then I slept profoundly.
Without knowing how long I had thus slumbered,
I found myself slowly awakening : and it was still
night— for the room was pitch dark. I did not
recollect having dreamt anything thus to arouse
me : I had no consciousness of any sound overhead ;
and as I lay and listened, all was profoundly si-
lent. But I gradually became aware that the
bosom-front of my night-shirt lay damp and heavy
upon my chest, to which it seemed to cling with a
sticky unpleasant feeling. I felt it with my hand
— and it was indeed quite wet. Just at the mo-
ment too that my hand thus lay upon it, some-
thing fell on the back of that hand, as if it were a
drop of water. I cannot describe the vague and
horrible sensation that crept over me : but I lay
for nearly a minute completely petrified. Again
did something fall upon my hand, which lay as if
palsied upon the damp bosom of my shirt. This
thing occurring in the midst of the utter darkness,
terrified me to an extent that I could now have
shrieked out. With my other hand I felt the
back of the one that lay upon my breast ; and it
was wet — but not with water's light fluid — it was
wet with something thicker and more consistent.
I sprang from the couch in a state of almost wild
distraction : I groped about for lucifer-matches —
and at length found them. The instant that one
flashed as I struck it against the wall, I glanced at
my shirt— and it was covered with blood. Quick
as lightning I looked up to the ceiling immediately
above the bed ; and a dark dripping stain there
confirmed with an almost frenzying effect the hor-
rible idea which in vagueness and dimness had
been agitating in my mind for the last few mo-
ments. Madly I rushed from the room, and pre-
cipitating myself into the Marshal's chamber,
ejaculated something — I know not what — I can-
not remember what words they were which thus
in mingled anguish, horror, and frenzy, burst from
my lips: but they were sufficient to convey a
frightful revelation !

A light was burning in the Marshal's room : we
rushed up the stairs— the Duke's door was fastened
inside— but I threw myself with desperate violence
against it, and burst it open. Then, good heavens !
what a spectacle met our view ! — what a wild,

rending, mournful cry went forth from the Mar-
shal's lips! — and how penetratingly was it echoed
from my own ! The wretched young nobleman
had destroyed himself: he had cut his throat
literally from ear to ear — he lay stretched upon
the floor — and, O horror ! bis blood oozing
through the joints of the oaken wood- work which
formed that floor, had dripped upon myself as I
lay in the room below. The entire household was
speedily alarmed: but their unfortunate master
was beyond the reach of human succour.

Let me dwell no longer upon this crowning in-
cident ol the stupendous Paulin tragedy : but let
the reader suppose a fortnight to have elapsed from
the date of this shocking occurrence. The young
Duke's remains had been consigned to the tomb —
the Marshal, stricken down to the very dust by
this fresh calamity, had gone to his country-seat —
and I was now without a situation. The veteran
had offered to take me into his own service : but I
had declined, though respectfully and thankfully —
for I could not endure the thought of being con-
tinually in the presence of any one whose merest
look would vividly bring back to my mind all the
horrors of which I had been a witness. I had
taken leave of my fellow-servants, who had all
likewise quitted the Paulin mansion, — which was
now to be shut up; for the title— a title which
seemed to have a fatalism fearfully clinging to il; —
had devolved upon a child.

I had taken a lodging— and did not immediately
purpose to seek for another situation, as my mind
had received such a shock that it was absolutely
necessary to adopt means to restore it to its proper
equilibrium. Indeed, I was compelled to consult
a physician ; and he recommended me to leave
Paris for a time — if not altogether. I had, speak-
ing in English money, about sixty pounds in my
possession, — being the accumulation of my wages,
and the amount of a present which the sorrow-
stricken Marshal had made me when I left the
mansion. At first I thought of returning to Eng-
land : but on reflection I considered it incumbent
upon me to remain abroad during the period of
probation specified by Sir Matthew Heseltine.
Following however the physician's advice, I left
Paris — and proceeded into Belgium. I remained
six weeks at Brussels, — living with great economy
so as not to exhaust my resources before I felt
myself to be in a condition to do something to
earn my bread for the future. I took a great deal
of exercise, and endeavoured to divert my mind as
much as I possibly could : but it was by no means
easy to shake off the effects which that rapid suc-
cession of frightful occurrences had produced upon
it. For often and often when I was alone, the
ghastly forms of the murdered Duchess— of the
murderer Duke— and of the self-destroyed Theobald
would rise up before me : dreadful dreams haunted
me by night— and I would start up vrith a cry
upon my lips and the perspiration cold upon my
brow. But at length my mind grew calmer ; and
I came to the resolve to seek change of scene and
a new position at one and the same time.

My object now was to get into the service of a
single gentleman or family about to travel,— as I
wished to see as much of the Continent as pos-
sible, go as to fulfil as far as circumstances would
! permit, the instructions I had received from
1 Annabel's eccentric grandfather — and likewise to

4i

JOSEPH WILMOT; OH, THH MEXIOIES OF A MA.y-8EHVANT,

amuse my mind and occupy my attention. As
the autumn was verging towards winter — for
it was now the middle of October, I knew that
many persons would be jpurneying to the south of
France or into Italy ; and I hoped to be enabled
to travel likewise in the same direction and at
their expense. I learnt that by feeing the porters
at the principal hotels, 1 might hear of any
situations that happened to be vacant : I adopted
this course — and in a few days was informed that
there was something which might suit me if I re-
paired to a particular hotel that was principally
frequented by the English. Thither I bent my
way one forenoon at about eleven o'clock; and
spoke to the porter from whom I had received the
message. He told me that there was an English
gentleman — a Captain Raymond — stopping at the
hotel, — that he was going to winter in Italy, and
that he required a body-servant. I was fiaoreover
informed that he was a very dashing gentleman —
spent his money freely — appeared to know every-
body— and was no doubt both wealthy and well
connected. He was at that moment entertaining
two or three friends at breakfast: but he had
given instructions that any applicant for the place
was to be shown up. I at once agreed to apply :
the porter summoned a waiter: and the latter
conducted me up-stairs to a little ante-room,
where be bade me wait a few moments. The
sounds of loud laughter and of somewhat uproarious
merriment came from an inner apartment; and
into this apartment the waiter proceeded.

Almost immediately returning to me, he said
that I might walk in. I obeyed; and entering
the room, beheld four gentlemen seated at a table
covered with succulent viands as well as with
bottles of champagne : for the wine seemed to be
more in request than the tea and coffee. I had no
difficulty in recognising which was Captain Eay-
mond, inasmuch as there was but one of the gen-
tlemen who was loosely clad in dressing-gown and
elippers, — the others being in full out-door cos-
tume. The Captain was a tall handsome man, of
about five-and-thirty, with dark hair and a glossy
moustache. His three companions were still
younger men — elegantly apparelled — but all having
a certain rakish dissipated look. I should add that
these guests were English as well as their enter-
tainer.

" "What was that you were saying, Harcourt ?"
inquired Captain Eaymond, as I entered the room :
"that you would wager fifty guineas we don't
complete the dozen of champagne ?"

" Yes — fifty guineas !" replied the gentleman
thus addressed : and he tossed his pocket-book on
the table.

"Don't bet with Harcourt — for you are sure to
lose, Raymond," ejaculated another of the guests,
with a laugh. "He always wins. It was but
yesterday he won a cool hundred of me about the
height of the drum-major of that regiment that
we saw marching past just now. I do believe
he went and measured him before he made the
bet."

" Nonsense, Villiers !" cried Mr. Harcourt.
" But here's the young man, Raymond."

" Oh, ah !" said the Captain : and having
quaffed a glass of champagne, he slowly and
patroniaingly turned his eyes upon me. " What
is your name ?"

" Wait a moment !" vociferated Mr. Harcourt.
" I'll bet any one twenty guineas that his Christian
name is either John, James, or Thomas. No one
ever knew a manservant with any other thaa one
of those three names."

" Done !" exclaimed the guest who had not as
yet spoken. " I'll take you, Harcourt :" — and the
bet was laid accordingly.

"Now, young man," said Captain Raymond,
" what is your name ?"

" Stop !" again ejaculated Mr. Harcourt. " Only
tell us your Christian name first of all— because I
have something to say about your surname."

" My Christian name is Joseph," I an<
swered.

" Mowbray has won, by jingo !" cried Captain
Raymond.

" So you see, friend Villiers," said Harcourt to
the guest who had spoken about the drum-major,
" I do lose sometimes :" — and he paid the bet he
had just lost, with a most careless indifference in
respect to the coin itself. " Well, I was wrong
for once— and his Christian name is Joseph. Joe !
— it's a nice short name to call one's servant by.
But about his surname, — what the deuce could
Joseph be coupled with unless Brown, Thompson,
Robinson, Noakes, Smith, or Jenkins. I'll take
five to two that it's one of those six."

" Done !" ejaculated Mowbray : " I'm your
man."

'•■ Well, what is your surname ?" inquired Cap-
tain Raymond.

" Wilmot," was my response.

" Lost again, Harcourt !" ejaculated all the
others : and this new wager was at once paid.

The gentlemen then refreshed themselves with
glasses of champagne round; and Captain Ray-
mond at length said to me, " In whose service did
you live last ?"

A cloud came over my countenance ; and Mr.
Harcourt perceiving it, ejaculated, "I'll take five
to one that his last master never paid him his
wages."

" I can assure you, sir," I said, " it is no sub-
ject to deal thus lightly with."

"Then I'll take five to two his last master was
hanged !" cried Mr. Harcourt.

"Done !" vociferated Mr. Villiers : and the
pocket-books were again had recourse to.

"Stop! I bar!" ejaculated Harcourt. "He
may have been guillotined, if it was on the Conti-
nent."

" Well, have it so," responded Villiers. " Put
to death, we'll call it."

"Grentlemen," I said, beginning to be much
disgusted with this scene, " you will pardon me
if I withdraw for the present : and I can wait
upon Captain Raymond at a more suitable oppor-
tunity "

" Nonsense, my good fellow !" cried the Cap-
tain : " no time Uke the present ! Your appear-
ance and manner suit me well enough — and I have
no doubt we shall soon come to terms. Just
humour these friends of mine — and then we'll get
to business."

*' I will at once state, sir," I answered, " that
I was last in the service of the Duke de Paulin in
Paris."

" The Duke de Paulin !" echoed Harcourt. " By
jingo, what a nuisance to be so near winning and

JOSEPH WILMOT; OB, THE MEMOIES OF A MAN-SEETANr.

45

yet to lose ! Why tho c'euce didn't he live a little
longer— and then he would have been guillotined,
and I should have won my wager."

"Come, come," said Captain Raymond, "no
more of this : you see it is not a Tocy pleasant
subject for the young man. Of course you have
got a testimonial P" he added, again turning to
me.

"A testimonial, sir, signed by the intendant of
the late Duke's household :" — and I produced the
document.

" Ten guineas that there are five mis-spelt words
in it!" ejaculated Mt. Harcourt: and snatching
the paper from Captain Raymond's hand, he
placed it with the writing downward upon the
table.

" I'll take you," cried Mr. Mowbray : and then
they all grouped themselves together to con over
the document— but I knew very well that Mr.
Harcourt would again lose, for every word was
correctly spelt. There however arose noisy
though good-humoured contentions as to whether
a particular letter was an e or an i, and whether
another was a y or a g : the affair was however
settled in the long run against Mr. Harcourt —
but a good twenty minutes were spent in the dis-
cussion.

" You understand," resumed Captain Raymond,
once more addressing himself to me, "that I am
going to travel into Italy "

" Stop !" cried Harcourt. " I'll wager fifty
guineas that Raymond is on the scent after an
heiress, if the truth can be got at."

" Raymond himself is the best person," said Mr.
Villiers, " to take that wager, if he knows he can

win it : and if not "

" "Well," interrupted Harcourt, who seemed de-
termined to bet upon something; "I'll offer the
same wager that Raymond comes back a married
man by the next Spring."

" I'll take you," cried Villiers : and as this was
not a bet that could be decided on the present
occasion, it was duly booked.

" I am going to Italy," continued the Captain ;
" and I want a young man to attend upon me in
the capacity of valet. He will wear plain clothes,

and will have little enough to do "

" I'll wager ten guineas," cried Mr. Harcourt,
" that the young man proclaims himself completely
qualified to do nothing !" — but as nobody responded
to the offer, Captain Raymond continued to ad-
dress me.

"I start off the day after to-morrow— and I
purpose to winter altogether in Italy." He then
named wages, and other little matters ; and con-
cluded by asking whether I chose to take the
situation.

" Stop !" vociferated Mr. Harcourt. " There is
a solitary fly — a late one for the time of year — the
last of his race perhaps !— and I'll wager twenty
guineas I bring him down from the looking-glass
with the first flip of my handkerchief."

The bet was at once taken by Mr. Villiers ; and
Mr. Harcourt sent his handkerchief " flipping," as
he called it, towards the mirror : but he sent some-
thing more at the same time and in the same
direction : for the handkerchief caught up a silver
fork from the table, and dashed it in the centre of
the magnificent looking-glass, — starring it com-
pletely. This produced an uproarious burst ot

laughter, in which Mr. Harcourt himself most
cordially joined; and he at once offered an-
other heavy bet that he would strike the other
mirror, which was at the farther extremity of the
room, precisely in the middle as he had accidentally
done this one. The waiter however came rush-
ing in, full of dismay and consternation at the
noise of the cracking glass ; and Mr. Harcourt had
considerable difficulty in recovering from the fit of
laughter into which the expression of the domes-
tic's countenance threw him. The man was
despatched to inquire of the landlord the cost of tho
damage ; and during this little scene I had time
to deliberate with myself whether I should accept
Captain Raymond's offer. I certainly did not much
like the incidents attending my first introduction :
but then I thought to myself that his wild rakish
habits were nothing to me— and that if in his ser-
vice I could see the world and amuse my mind,
my object would be gained. I therefore gave him
an affirmative response ; and it was understood
that I was to join him at the hotel on the follow-
ing day.

I was punctual at the hour named ; and on the
ensuing morning I set out with my new master on
our way to Italy. I pass completely over the de-
tails of our journey — and beg the reader to sup-
pose us just entering upon the classic soil of
that southern clime.

CHAPTER LXXXVI.

THE \Ilt\QS nOTVJi.

I HAVB said that Captain Raymond was a tall
handsome man, of about five-and-thirty — with
dark hair and eyes. I gathered from a few occa-
sional observations which he made, that he be-
longed to an old aristocratic family, and that he
had been a captain in the Guards— but that having
sold out on inheriting a tolerably handsome for-
tune, he now retained his military title from mere
courtesy. He was reserved, and somewhat haughty
—but by no means stern nor unkind in his man-
ner ; and it was invariably in a gentlemanly way
that he addressed me. He did not seem to be
so wedded to dissipated habits as I had been led
to judge from the circumstances of our first inter-
view : it was only when he fell in with fellow-
countrymen of his own, of a similar position in
life, that he would plunge into a conviviality bor-
dering upon an extreme.

Having traversed Sardinia, we drew near to the
Etruscan Apennines, — the Captain's purpose being
to pass some time in Florence. I remember per-
fectly well that it was about three o'clock one
afternoon, towards the close of October, that the
post-chaise entered a picturesque village in tho
Duchy of Modena, and situated just on the out-
skirt of that line of mountains. Here Captain
Raymond intended to pass the night, and com-
mence the passage of the Apennines on the follow-
ing morning. The post-chaise rolled into the
court-yard of an hotel, which was of considerable
dimensions for so small a village : but this circum-
stance may be explained by the fact that tho
village itself was a favourite halting- place for
travellers passing through the Duchy of Modena

46

JOSEPH WILMOT; OH, THB MEMOIHS OV A MA.W-8ERVANT.

on their way to Florence, the Tuscan capital. Just
as Captain Raymond alighted from the post-chaise,
ejaculations of recognition burst from his own lips
and from those of an elderly but fine-looking gen-
tleman who happened to be traversing the hotel-
yard at the moment.

" This is indeed an unexpected pleasure to en-
counter your lordship here !" said the Captain, as
they shook hands in a manner which showed that
they were upon intimate terms.

" We have been tarrying here for the last two
months," replied the nobleman, " on account of a
serious accident which happened to Lady Eing-
wold."

"An accident? Indeed!" exclaimed Captain
Eaymond. "Of what nature ?"

'•'An accident common enougli to travellers,"
replied Lord Ringwold— for such it appeared was
the nobleman's name, — " an accident, too, which
we often read of in romances, and which is at
times most useful to the novelist — I mean the up-
setting of our carriage. We were three inside —
her ladyship, ilivself, and our daughter. I and
Olivia escaped with only a few contusions : but
Xady Eingwold had the misfortune to fracture her
leg -and there was no help for it but to remain in
this village until now."

" And how about medical attendance ?" inquired
Captain Eaymond.

"It fortunately happened," responded his lord-
eliip, " that there was an Italian gentleman stop-
piDg at this hotel at the time; and he, it appeared.
Lad received a medical education, though he had
not pursued the profession. He rendered imme-
diate assistance ; and though he was going else-
where, he remained at the hotel for a week in
constant attendance upon her ladyship. He was
then compelled to leave, to visit some property in
a neighbouring district : and as he is now residing
there, he regularly visits her ladyship two or three
ticaes a week; and she has progressed so well
under his skilful treatment, that we have not
thought it necessary to call in any other profes-
sional aid."

"It was most fortunate for your lordship,"
observed Captain Eaymond, " that you should
have fallen in with such an individual."

" Most fortunate," returned the nobleman : " for
strong symptoms of fever at first developed them-
selves— and both Olivia and myself were very
much alarmed on her ladyship's account. How-
ever, thanks to Signor Volterra— for that is the
Italian's name — the ordeal has been safely passed
through, and the day after to-morrow we purpose
to prosecute our journey to Florence."

" And it is precisely to Florence that I myself
am bound," rejoined Captain Eaymond. " It was
my intention to continue my route to-morrow "

"Wherefore not postpone it for a day?" ex-
claimed the nobleman; "and we can travel in
company — which will be all the more safe as well
as agreeable in traversing the Apennines, which,
as every traveller in Italy knows, are infested by
lawless bands."

"' It will give me the greatest pleasure to post-
pone my journey and accompany your lordship,"
answered Captain Eaymond. " Indeed, I am the
master of my own time — I am travelling merely
for amusement — and I had some thoughts of win-
tering in Florence : but I was informed the other

day that Florence is cold during the winter
months."

" Sometimes it is so, when the winters are damp
after a rainy autumn," observed Lord Ringwold':
" but with such a splendid autumn as we have had
and which indeed we are still enjoying in tliis
charming spot, there in every reason to anticipate
that there will be this year a healthy winter at Flo.
rence. At all events, according to our present
plans, we purpose to pass the next few months in
the Tuscan capital."

" And that will be no mean inducement," re-
joined Captain Raymond, " to fix my determination
also."

" But there is no necessity for us to remain here
talking in the court. yard," ejaculated the nobleman,
" Come to my apartments and see the ladies."

Captain Eaymond gave me a few hasty instruc-
tions as to securing rooms for a couple of davs at
the hotel ; and he accompanied Lord Eingwold to
that nobleman's suite of rooms. Having attended
to the duties which I had to perforin, I was sli"va
by a waiter to what might be termed the servaurs'
hall ; and there, amongst the assembled domestics,
I found the valet and the lady's maid who were
attached to the service of the Eingwold family.
I was much pleased thus to encounter natives of
my own country; and we dined together. Alter
the meal I walked out with the valet into the vil-
lage,— which, as I have already said, was pictur-
esque in its site and its aspect. The trees had
lost none of their foliage ; and many, if not most
of them still retained the verdant appearance of
summer in defiance of the embrowning, searing,
and mellowing influence of autumn. Indeed the
atmosphere was quite warm, although the month
of November was close at hand ; and there was
just a sufficiency of a breeze blowing from the
Apennines to impart a healthy freshness to the
air.

I learnt from the valet that Lord and Lady
Eingwold had two daughters— the elder being ia
England with another branch of the family— and
the younger, the Hon. Miss Olivia Sackville, now
accompanying her parents on their Cootioental
travels. I was further informed that Olivia was
about four-and-twenty years of age and of sur-
passing beauty— so that it was somewhat astonish-
ing she had not as yet married : unless indeed it
were that she had no fortune, and that the family
was comparatively a poor one, his lordship's income
not exceeding three thousand a year. The con-
versation then turned upon Lady Eingwold's acci-
dent, and the surgical assistance which Signer
Volterra had rendered. I learnt that this gentle-
man was about seven-and-twenty, and remarkably
handsome. Having inherited some little fortune
at his father's death, he had abandoned the
medical profession; and as he possessed a small
estate some twenty or thirty miles distant, in the
territory of Modena, it was thither he had re-
paired after his sojourn at the hotel in attendance
upon Lady Eingwold. But, as I had overheard
his lordship tell Captain Eaymond, Signor Volterra
regularly visited her ladyship three times a week,
— coming on horseback for the purpose.

"Of course," added the valet, "it would be an
insult for his lordship to offer a pecuniary recom-
pense to Signor Volterra : and therefore a very
handsome piece of plate has been procured from

JOSEPH WTLMOT; OB, THE STEMOIES OF A MAN-SEEVANT,

47

the city of Modena in order to be presented to
him."

In the evening I had an opportunity of seeing
the Ron, Miss Olivia Sackville ; and her personal
appearance fully justified the encomiastic mention
made of her by the valet. Indeed, she was a
superb specimen of Saxon beauty. Her form, on
sdmewhat a large scale, was nevertheless most
symmetrically proportioned : the well-shaped head
was poised upon a neck of swan-like curvature
and dazzling whiteness, — the outlines blending
with the sloping and softly rounded shoulders and
eipanding into the rich fullness of the bust. Her
complexion was dazzlingly fair, with the tint of
roses upon the cheeks. The light brown hair
showered in myriads of ringlets on either side of
a face somewhat too round perhaps for perfect
beauty, but which despite that deficiency ot the
classic oval, was unquestionably lovely. Its ex-
pression was that almost indescribable admixture
of languishing sweetness with patrician dignity
and the consciousness of high birth, which is often
to be met with amongst ladies of the British aris.
tociacy. Her large blue eyes were melting in
their look ; but there was that proud curl of the
short upper lip which formed, so to speak, the
antithesis to the prevailing sweetness of the upper
part of her countenance. Though she had reached
the age of four-and-twenty, and must therefore
for some six or seven years have mingled in the
gay circles of fashion, yet she had lost none of
the first freshness of youth; nor had the heated
atmosphere of crowded saloons marred the natural
bloom of her complexion,

I was lounging in the court-yard of the hotel in
company with the valet, in the forenoon of the
following day, when a gentleman on horseback
rode into the premises. He appeared to be about
seven-and twenty : his height was nearly six feet
—he was upright as a dart — and his slender form
was as admirably proportioned as that of the Bel-
videre Apollo. He had hair as dark and as glossy
as the wing of a raven ; and it clustered in natural
curls about a high open forehead and round his
head. His complexion was congenial with the
Italian climate, — not swarthy like that of a
Spaniard, but of what may be termed a delicate
duskiness, as if with a tint of bistre. He wore
whiskers, and a slight moustadhe, curling at the
extremities : and as he spoke to the hostler who
hastened forward to receive his steed, his lips of
•vivid red revealed a splendid set of teeth. There
■was something in this individual which at once
struck and interested the beholder. Intelligence
sate enthroned upon his high and open forehead,
I and flashed from his superb dark eyes. The pro-
j file of his cuuntenance was of classic perfection,
I with a nose entirely straight, and with that oval
configuration of the face in which, as I have ere
now noticed. Miss Olivia Sackville's was deficient.
He was dressed with simple elegance, — his
admirably-fitting garments setting off the sym-
metry of his tall, upright, slender form, and his
i sweeping length of limb. I could not help think-
ing to myself at the very first moment that I set
eyes upon this individual, that his appearance in
an Eaglish ball-room would produce no ordinary
sensation; and from all that the valet had told me
on the preceding day, I was by no means aston-
ished to learn that he was none other than the

Signer Volterra who had so generously bestowed
his skill and his time upon Lady Eingwold.

Having consigned his steed — which, be it inci-
dentally observed, was a splendid animal — to the
hostler, Volterra proceeded to the apartments
occupied by the Eingwold family. As I was
subsequently informed by the valet, he remained
to luncheon,— some business preventing him from
accepting an invitation to stay to dinner. The
piece of plate was presented to him by Lord Eing-
wold ere he took his departure, which was at
about three o'clock in the afternoon; and I was
further informed that Volterra expressed bis
regret that his lordship should have sought in any
way to recompense services which it had been
alike his pride and pleasure to render. In the
course of conversation, the valet mentioned that
Signer Volterra spoke the English language with
considerable fluency, — he having visited the
British metropolis a few years previously, and
remained some time there in order to improve his
medical education at the hospitals.

I must now explain that at the back of the
hotel there was a spacious garden with shady
avenues, and the whole extent dotted with a num-
ber of little summer-houses— or rather wooden
pavilions — for the accommodation of those guests
who chose to take their wine or other refresh-
ments in those cool retreats during the sultriness
of summer. In a word, these grounds resembled
to a certain extent an English tea-garden of the
better class : only it must be understood that the
pavilions were very tastefully fitted up within, and
beautifully decorated without.

This day of which I am writing, had been ex-
ceedingly sultry; and no breeze blew from the
Apennines as on the previous one, I knew not
whether it was the change of climate or the
fatigues of recent travelling — or whether I had
partaken of something which had disagreed with
me : but certain it was that in the evening I felt
much indisposed, with a general sensation of
physical uneasiness. The friendly valet was drink-
ing wine with the domestics of a French nobleman
who had that day arrived at the hotel : they were
smoking cigars too in the servants' hall; — and
unable to endure the heat and the odour of the
atmosphere, I strolled forth at about nine o'clock
to walk in that garden of which I have been
speaking. It was not however without regret
that I quitted the society of the French noble-
man's domestics : for they had just begun to relate
the exploits of some formidable bandit-chief who
infested the Apennines. All that I learnt ere
being thus compelled to leave the servants' hall,
may be summed up in a few words. This re-
doubtable chief, it appeared, had once been an
officer in the household of the Grand Duke of
Tuscany : but having slain a fellow-official in a
drunken brawl, he was compelled to fly. Be-
taking himself to the mountains he joined the
bandit horde whose chief he soon became. Ha
was represented as a man of about five-and-forty—
stout and thick-set— of herculean strength and
lion-like courage. It was further said that he
could assume at pleasure the courtly manners he
had been wont to adopt in other times when he
was attached to the Grand Duke's person. There
was something mysterious about the man, inas-
much as he had been twice captured by the Tuscan

48

JOSEPH WILMOT; OB, THE MBMOIES OP A MAK-SHBVAWT.

police, and twice condemned to death — but on
both occasions had escaped under circumstances
which unmistakably denoted a connivance oa the
part of the authorities. These were all the par-
ticulars which I leaint relative to Marco Uberti—
which was the name of that formidable bandit —
ere I was compelled to leave the servants' hall.

I walked into the garden, and lounged about
there for perhaps a quarter of an hour, — when I
felt mj indisposition gaining upon me so much
that I entered the nearest pavilion, and stretched
myself upon a bench inside. The shade of over-
hanging trees rendered the place completely dark ;
and the air was so still that scarcely a leaf
rustled. Sleep gradually stole upon me ; and as
I presently found myself awakening, I became
aware that voices were speaking in a low tone at
the entrance of the pavilion.

"But why not address yourself to my father ?"
Were the first words which my ear thus caught :
and they were spoken in a tremulous yet silvery
clear female voice.

"No — not yet! not yet! dearest, beloved
Olivia !" was the response of the young lady's
companion— and now I recognised the rich-toned
voice of Signor Volterra : for I had heard him
speak to the hostler on his arrival at the hotel in
the forenoon. " The time will shortly come when
the state of my affairs will enable me with a better
grace to beseech your hand of Lord Eingwold.
Meantime, dearest Olivia, though we are about to
be separated, you will not forget me ?"

" Forget you, Angelo I" murmured the patrician
lady : " no — never, never ! You wrong the fidelity
of my heart by even asking such a question."

" It is not that I mistrust you, dearest," re-
turned Angelo Voiierra: "but it is sweet for a
lover to receive the reiterated assurance of re-
ciprocal affection. Think you that too ot'ton from
those sweet lips of thine could flow forth the
words, ' I love thee T Oh, the joy — the happiness
of that moment when first I elicited the soft
avowal ! I went forth from your presence with
an unknown ecstacy flooding my entire being: I
could scarcely believe that such bliss was really
mine. Fifteen days have elapsed since that one —
the happiest of my life! — and often and often
have I doubted whether it were all true, or whether
1 were deceiving myself with the most elysian of
dreams. Uo— it is true ! and you love me, dearest
Olivia— and I love you in return— —heaven knows
tow much I love you I"

There was a pause, during which I heard the
billing sounds of kisses ; and then Volterra spoke
again in that voice which seemed like one of golden
harmony.

" Yes, dearest Olivia, the time I hope is not far
distant when I shall be enabled to present my-
self before your father— proclaim my love — and de-
mand your hand."

" Think it not indelicate on my part, Angelo,"
responded the lady, her tones conveying all the
bashfulness she experienced, " that I should have
urged you to speak to my parents at once, and to
hesitate no longer : but my motive is simply that
never yet had I kept aught concealed from those
fond parents of mine ; and this secret, — though in
one sense a sweet one," she added, with increasing
hesitation — " nevertheless weighs at times like lead
upon my heart. I feel when in my parents* pre-

sence as if I could throw myself into their arms, or
fling myself at their feet, and implore their pardon
as if for a duty violated or a fault committed. And
now that we are about to separate, dear Angelo,
and that you cannot define for how long, I feel—
Oh ! I deeply feel that the necessity of keeping
this secret will increase my unhappiness !"

" Olivia, your words fill me with indescribable
pleasure and pain," answered Angelo Volterra,-
" pleasure because every syllable conveys the assur*
ance of your love — and pain because that love alons
suffices not for your happiness. Listen to me, dear-
est Olivia ! As yet my fortune is small and insig-
nificant, in comparison with what it may soon be.
Your father belongs to the proud aristocracy of
England ; and your beauty, as well as your rank
and accomplishments, warrant his lordship in seek-
ing tor a suitable alliance for his daughter. He
would refuse me, situated as I now am ; and surely,
Olivia, you would spare me the pain of such re-
fusal ? Besides, there is another light in which
this matter is to be regarded. Where did we first
meet? By your mother's sick couch, only two
months back ; and it was my fortunate lot to be
enabled to render services of more or less import-
ance. Now, if I were to address myself at once to
your father, and request to be recognised as the
suitor for his daughter's hand, would he not deem
me most unhandsomely and ungenerously presum-
ing on the services which I have so rendered ? and
would he not be justified in telling me that I rated
those services at far too high a price ? Is not all
this true, Olivia P

" It is," she murmuringly answered : " and you
will forgive me, Angelo, for so urgently pressing
the point P"

" Oh, speak not of forgiveness, my adored — my
worshipped Olivia!" exclaimed the enthusiastic
Italian. " And now let me thank thee for having
granted this interview — the last that we shall en-
joy for some little time to come ! You are about
to proceed to the gay and splendid city of Florence
—my own native city "

" You sigh, dear Angelo," interrupted Olivia :
" is it that you regret your absence from that city
of which you are ever wont to speak in terms so
rapturous ?"

" I regret that circumstances prevent me from
accompanying you thither," rejoined Volterra : " I
regret that when you appear in brilliantly-lighted
saloons, and every eye is ravished by your beauty,
I shall not be there to behold you — I shall not be
there to whisper in my own heart, ' That lovely
being by whose presence all looks are fascinated, is
pledged to accompany me to the altar !' — This is
why I regret my absence from Florence : and it is
a feeling, Olivia, which you can imderstand P"

" Best assured, Angelo," answered the patrician
lady, " that I shall not voluntarily seek those gay
and brilliant circles of which you have spoken: but
if compelled to accompany my parents thither, my

thoughts will be far away Need I add," she

gently and softly asked, " in which direction they
will travel ?"

" Oh, no ! — for every syllable you utter gives me
the assurance of your love. Never, never until I
first beheld you, Olivia, was this heart of mine
moved towards woman ! You are the first whose
beauty even taught me to love ; and you will be
the^last ! That we shall soon meet again, and that

JOSEPH WILMOT; OH, THE MEM0IK3 OF A MAX-SEKrANT,

49

our lore will be crowned with happiuess, is my
fervid faith — my fondest hope : but it' heaven
should decree otherwise — if amidst the many
chances and vicissitudes of this life there should
be so sad a destiny reserved for me that this part»
ing is to be eternal "

" Oh, wherefore speak in terms so desponding as
these?" exclaimed Olivia, almost in a tone of
affright. " Tell me, dearest Angelo — tell me that
there is naught beyond the circumstances to which
you have alluded, that can stand as a barrier to
our hopes ?"

"Need I remind one of your intelligence,"
asked the Italian, with a certain mournfulncss in
the masculine harmony of his voice, " that man
proposes but that heaven disposes — and that the
fondest hopes which human hearts can ever con-
ceive, are sometinies doomed to disappointment ?
What, for instance, if I failed to obtain possession
59.

of that large addition to my fortune which I feel
convinced can alone render me acceptable to your
parents as a fitting suitor for their daughter's
hand ?"

" Think you, Angelo," asked the lady, in a tone
of gentle reproach, " that my parents are so
thoroughly worldly-minded that they take no heed
of your manifold good qualities ?"

'•' Oh, let us not waste this precious time in dull
and profitless argument!" exclaimed the Italian,
his tones again gushing with the enthusiastic fer-
vour of love. " We are about to separate— and
we must now speak of naught but that feeling
which unites our hearts. We will indulge in hopes
and banish all fears : we will trust in the mercy of
heaven, and will not apprehend its undeserved
wrath. Yes, dearest Olivia, I now hear a secret
voice whispering in my soul, giving the assurance
that this golden dream shall be realized, and that

50

JOSEPH ■WILMOTj OE, a?HE ICEMOIES OP A MAN-SEaVANT.

the day will come when we shall smilingly look
back upon the past hours of our anxious uncer-
tainties."

"Yes— Grod grant that it may be so!" mur-
mured Olivia : and then as the parting moment
came, I could hear her weeping bitterly,

"Oh, calm and compose yourself, my beloved
one !" said the Italian : and though I could see
naught, yet I knew full well that he must be
straining her to his breast. " Have faith, I repeat,
in the mercy of heaven to crown our love with
happiness. Oh, I was foolish — I was mad to yield
to a moment's despondency, and give utterance to
words which have dispirited you thus !"

" But now your words cheer and console me,"
replied Olivia. "Farewell, dear Angelo— fare-
well !"

"Farewell, my best beloved !"— and after an-
other minute, during which fervid kisses were ex-
changed, they separated.

I heard Olivia's light step departing in one
dii'ection — and the heavier tread of her lover dying
away in the distance, as he sought the further
extremity of the garden, doubtleaa to leap the
palings there. And now the reader will ask where-
fore I had continued an unseen witness of a pro-
ceeding of so sacred and delicate a character ? Be
it recollected that I was sleeping when Angelo and
Olivia had first sought the bench in front of the
entrance of that pavilion ; and on awaking I knew
not how long they had been there. If, when their
words first reached my ears, I had stepped forth
and announced my presence, they might have dis-
believed my statement that I was previously slum-
bering : they might have regarded me as a wilful
eavesdropper, revealing myself only through fear
of discovery and of personal chastisement at the
hands of the indignant Italian. And then, too, I
rellected that I was about to travel in company
with the Riagwold family — and that it would
be painfully humiliating for Olivia to feel every
time she encountered my looks, that I was the
possessor of her secret. Under aU these circum-
stances I considered it belter to keep my presence
in that pavilion unknown to the lovers ; and as I
subsequently reflected on the course thus adopted,
I saw no reason to repent.

It was quite clear that Angelo Volterra had only
declined Lord Eingwold's invitation to dinner in
order that he might have an opportunity of re-
turning stealthily to the village in the evening to
keep his appointment with the beautiful Olivia.
Earnestly did I hope for her sake that no guile
lurked beneath the glowing words of passion which
he had breathed to her, and that he had rightly
stated the circumstances which made him pru-
dentially resolve to abstain yet awhile from ad-
dressing himself to her parents. And yet somehow
or another I had my misgivings — vague and unde-
fined, certainly— and of no positive contextui'e :
but still they did float in my mind. I endeavoured
to persuade myself that the Italian's conduct
towards Olivia was marked by a manly frankness ;
and assuredly, when I reflected on the noble can-
dour which seemed to sit upon his brow and to be
expressed in his looks, as I had seen him in the
morning, I was disposed to be angry with myself
for sufi'ering such doubts and apprehensions to
haunt me : — but I could not keep them ofi^.

On re-entering the hotel, I found that it was

eleven o'clock, and that the servants* hall was
now deserted. I retired to my own chamber : for
Captain Raymond never needed my services of
an evening. My indisposition had nearly passed
away ; and when I awoke in the morning, I was
quite well.

CHAPTER LXXXVIL

THE APENNINES.

It was not till nearly mid-day that Lord Ring-
wold's travelling-carriage and Captain Raymond's
post-chaise were in readiness for departure, — the
delay being occasioned by some unforeseen difi-
culty in procuring post-horses. At length we set
ofl". Lord and Lady Ringwold, with their daughter
Olivia, occupied the interior of their own carriage :
the valet and lady's-maid sate upon the box. With
regard to the post-chaise. Captain Raymond was
inside, and I was on the dickey thereof. I should
observe that it was originally proposed that the
former equipage should serve for us all : but it
was represented by the landlord of the hotel that
the nature of the roads among the Apennines
would preclude the possibility of the horses drag-
ging such a load. We accordingly set oflf in the
manner described, — the travelling-carriage leading
the way.

As we approached the Apennines, they wore
the appearance of immense wavy mountains of
verdure on the outskirts — but growing higher and
higher towards the centre of the range, where the
mountains were crowned by arid peaks. Numerous
streamlets gushed forth from this assemblage of
hills ; and the winding road carried us over rude
but picturesque bridges — through villages which
remained unseen in the depths of valleys until
suddenly come upon— amidst groves— and along
the outskirts of forests. There was an endless
variety of scenery; and as each successive object
arrested my attention, I thought but little of the
terrible bandit Marco Uberti. I should however
remai'k that I had seen Captain Raymond charge
two pairs of pistols in the morning — that he had
one pair with him inside the carriage— and that
I had the other pair in a small box upon the
dickey. I likewise knew that Lord Ring wold's
valet was equally well armed : but all these pre-
cautions had been kept secret from the ladies
and from the maid, for fear of terrifying them.

The journey was pursued for about three hours ;
and we were now advancing more and more into
the heart of the Apenuine range. But presently
I observed that the postilions pointed with their
whips towards a cloud that was gathering above one
of the highest ridges in the eastern direction ; and as
they did so, they exchanged ominous looks. I was
thus led to watch that cloud ; and I was astonished
at the rapidity with which it expanded, and at the
threatening aspect that it assumed. I now noticed,
too, that the postilions urged their horses on at a
quicker pace. The cloud went on expanding : it
grew darker and darker — it came more and more
overhead, until all of a sudden so terrific a peal of
thunder burst forth, that with the countless rever-
berations amidst the mountains, it seemed as if ten
thousand cannon were being discharged in as
many diS'erent points throughout the Etruscan

JOSEPH WTtMOT; OE, THE MEMOrES 0? A MAN-SERVANT.

51

Apennines. Then tlio rain began to pour down
in torrents ; and the storm continued with fearful
violence. The vehicles were stopped that the
lady's-maid might enter the travelling.carriage —
•While Captain Raymond bade me take a seat in-
side) the post-chaise; and he insisted that Lord
Ivingwold's valet should do the same.

After this temporary halt, the two equipages
dashed along at a tremendous pace : for the road
which we were now pursuing, happened to be in
excellent order. Never shall I forget that storm
in the Apennines ! — never did I hear the great
voices of nature speak in such terrific sounds, nor
behold the lightning blaze forth in such frightful
flashes ! And ever and anon such furious gusts of
wind swept amidst the mountains, that it seemed
as if a whole multitude of men were dashing
against the equipages for the purpose of flinging
taetn over. We beheld trees torn up by the roots
and carried like things of no weight, as well as
with the rapidity of arrows, across the road and
the adjacent districts. But despite that rushing,
raging, roaring wind, the rain continued to fall in
torrents ; and myriads of muddy cascades dashed
down the heights. We were not however more
than an hour in that storm : for at about four
o'clock the vehicles dashed up to the front of a
small hostelry situated in a lonely place, and
without another human habitation anywhere in
eight.

Here we descended; and on inquiry, it was
ascertained that there was every prospect of the
storm continuing yet some hours : there conse-
quently seemed no alternative but to pass the
night at this lonely little inn. The Eingwolds
and Captain Raymond took possession of the only
parlour of which the hostelry could boast : the
lady's-maid, the valet, and myself were consigned
to the kitchen. The landlord and landlady, who
were elderly persons, — together with their
daughter — a handsome, good-natured young
woman,— bustled about to prepare the best repast
which their means would enable them to furnish ;
while the postilions, having put up the horses and
drawn the vehicles iinder the protecting roof of a
somewhat spacious shed, betook themselves to an
outhouse to dry their clothes — for they were
drenched to the skin. Dinner was first served up
in the parlour ; and then we in the kitchen par-
took of it : the fare was by no means bad, and
there was a sufiiciency.

The storm continued until about eight in the
evening, when it began to abate with as much
rapidity as it had come on : and by nine o'clock it
had completely passed away, — leaving the night
clear, serene, and beautiful. The accomodations
of the hostelry were so exceedingly limited that
only the most imperious circumstances could have
led our party to resign themselves to a halt for
the entire night in such a place. It appeared
that about seven miles ahead there was a village
with a tolerably commodious inn, and which was
fully capable of lodging us all. It was there-
fore determined by the occupants of the par-
our that the journey should bo resumed to that
point ; and it was a little before ten o'clock that
we set out again. The night, as I have already
said, was clear and beautiful ; and the storm had
left behind a delicious freshness in the air : but the
roads were completely cut up by the rain — and our

progress was necessarily so slow that it seemed as
if wc should be two good hours in accomplishing
the few miles from the lonely inn to the village
that was now our destination.

When about midway between those points, the
road wound about the base of a towering height ;
and on the other side there was a thick wood.
Here too the road was so bad that the horses
laboui'ed fearfully to drag the vehicles along. I
candidly confess that as I sate upon the dickey, I
began to think of the formidable bandit Marco
Uberti ; and I said to myself, " If ever robbers are
particular in choosing the most favourable spots
for their depredations, this is assuredly one to be
so selected."

Scarcely had this thought passed through my
mind, when a dozen horsemen suddenly appeared
in the road. I can convey no better idea of this
abrupt apparition than by begging the reader to
suppose that they all in an instant sprang out of
the earth : though the real solution of the mystery
no doubt was that they suddenly emerged from the
deep shade of the trees which skirted one side of
the road. My first impulse was to snatch at the
box of pistols which I had with me on the dickey :
but scarcely had I even so much as touched the
lid, when one of the horsemen knocked me off the
chaise with the handle of his whip. At the same
instant I heard pistols fired — and then conscious-
ness abandoned me as I dropped into the road.

Speedily however was I recalled to my senses
by piercing screams which rang through my brain.
Looking up, I perceived two of the banditti lifting
Olivia into the arms of another who was on
horseback, — the two first-mentioned having dis-
mounted. I sprang to my feet, and was rushing
forward, — when I fell over something near the
fore-wheel of the post-chaise : it was the corpse of
a bandit who, as I subsequently learnt, was shot
by my master. Scrambling up again, I beheld
Captain Raymond bound fast to the hind-wheel of
the chaise,— so that if the horses had started ofiF,
he would have inevitably been killed. Lord anl
Lady Ringwold were struggling desperately in the
grasp of some of the banditti, and in passionate
terms beseeching that their daughter might not
be carried off. These entreaties were uttered in
English,— and thus the ruffians could not under-
stand them : nor were they indeed likely to have
paid any merciful attention to them even if it were
otherwise. I did not see the valet : but the maid
lay on the bos, her head having fallen back on the
roof of the carriage. I hoped it was merely in a
swoon, and that she had not been killed by the
banditti : but I had no time to ascertain.

All that I thus saw took me but a single mo-
ment to embrace at a glance, though the descrip-
tion has occupied several minutes to give. I
should add that the trunks all lay open upon the
road; and some of the banditti were busy in
rifling them of whatsoyer they choM^to carry
away. I was flying to the succour W Captain
Raymond, when the screams of Olivia Sackville
grew so thrillingly piercing — proclaiming an an-
guish so frightfully poignant — that I turned
quickly to glance in that direction. The horse-
man to whose arms she had been consigned, and
who retained her in front of him on the saddle-
bow, was galloping away with her. A riderless
horse stood close to the spot where I had come

LIBRARY

UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS

52

JOSEPH WILirOT ; OB, THE MEMOIBS OP A MAN-SEEVANT.

back to consciousness J and it was tliis intervening
obstacle tliat hart prevented the circumstance of
my resuscitation from being observed by the
ruffians, who were all busied in various ways, —
some, I should not forget to observe, in keeping
guard over the postilions. The frenzied shrieks
of Olivia, the agonizing screams of her mother,
and the piteous lamentations of Lord Eingwold,
produced such an effect upon me as to make me
feel as if I were going mad. Totally forgetting
my master, I sprang upon the horse which stood
near me, and galloped away from the midst of the
scene. It was in frenzied pursuit of Olivia's
ruffian abductor that I thus sped. Not for a
moment did I pause to reflect that I had no wea-
pon of any kind wherewith to attack the man or
to defend myself: I was obeying an impulse
which was the efiect of the feelings that were so
highly wrought by the entire scene, and so in-
tensely goaded by the cries and lamentations of
distress.

Indeed, such was the confusion of my brain^
such the wildering hurry of my thoughts— that I
failed even immediately to notice that I myself
was being pursued : for three or four of the ban-
ditti had sprung upon their horses and galloped
after me the instant that I shot away from their
midst. The fact was brought to my knowledge
by the somewhat disagreeably startling intimation
of a bullet whistling close by my ear. But I gal-
loped on; and as my thoughts grew more col-
lected, I reasoned to myself that I might just as
well continue my way in the desperate hope of
being enabled to render some assistance to the
unfortunate Olivia, as to turn round or to halt
and encounter almost certain death at the hands
of the miscreants who were pursuing me. But
another and another bullet whistled by my ears:
still I pressed on at the utmost speed of which the
horse was capable— for it was a high-spirited
animal, and there would have been no need to
use whip or spur even if I had been furnished
with them.

Such was the arrowy velocity with which the
horse darted along, that I outstripped my pur-
suers, and was rapidly gaining upon the ruffian
who had carried off Olivia. He did not seem to
take any notice of me; for it would have been
easy for him to fire a pistol at me as I overtook
him : but he evidently fancied that it was one of
his own people who was in his rear. I was close
upon him :— in the beautiful clearness of the night
I could distinguish Olivia Sackville supported on
his left arm ; and as she was motionless— struggling
not, nor giving vent to any cry^I concluded that
she had swooned. But what should I do to suc-
cour her ? how could I contend against that
ruffian-abductor, who, like his fellows, was no
doubt armed to the teeth? Scarcely had these
thoughts flitted through my brain, when my dis-
engaged hand happened to rest upon one of the
holsters; ^|d to my joy I now discovered that I
was the ^ster of a brace of pistols. That they
were loaded, I was tolerably well convinced, as
they were evidently ready there for serrice. At
all events I did not wait to ascertain the fact:
but taking one in each hand, and yet keeping
hold of the reins, I made the horse dash along-
eide of the animal which the rulEan-abductor
bestrode.

The very first glimpse I obtained of him sxacie
me with the conviction that he was none other
than Marco Uberti himself. I thought it no harm
to shoot such a wretch dead upon the spot,— as it
was to deliver an innocent young lady from his
loathsome arms ; and levelling one of the pistols at
his head, I pulled the trigger. But it flashed in
the pan; and before I had time to use the other
one, the horse suddenly shied and threw me. Al-
most at the same instant the pursuing banditti
galloped up to the spot: — half-stunned by the fall,
I was utterly incapable of offering any resistance,
and was accordingly made prisoner. One of the
banditti levelled a pistol at my head ; and in the
twinkling of an eye my mortal career would have
ended, when Marco Uberti — for he the abductor
proved to be— ejaculated a word the effect of which
was the sudden lowering of the pistol. The ban*
ditti made signs for me to mount the horse again ;
and when I had done so, a cord was tied to my
feet under the animal's belly,— so that I could not,
by suddenly throwing myself off again, escape from
my captors.

The road was pursued for another half-honr,—
Miss Sackville continuing all the while in a state
of unconsciousness. At length we reached a nar<
row pass, formed by the almost perpendicular walls
of two colossal heights : from this pass there waa
a diverging gorge at a point where one of the
heights ceased ; and in a few minutes we reached
the entrance of a wood, into which we penetrated.
Our way was now continued through an almost
total darkness : but the banditti took very good
care that I should have no chance of escape, even
if I meditated the attempt. A few minutes more
brought us abruptly into the midst of a group of
cabins or huts, so completely embowered in the
wood that I question whether they could be seen
in the day-time xmtil thus suddenly come upon.
Farther on there was a much higher object, which
appeared to be the ruin of some edifice: but I
could not at once ascertain if my surmise was cor-
rect. I have forborne from breaking the thread of
my narrative to explain what my feelings were
from the moment that I was captured by these
lawless desperadoes : it may however be easily un-
derstood that they were of no very pleasurable
nature; for though I had been preserved from
death at the hands of the miscreant who levelled
the pistol at me, I could scarcely hope that my
life would be preserved altogether — or even if it
were, that I was destined for kind treatment.
And then, too, the idea of that beautiful young
woman falling into the hands of the unscrupulous
monster Marco Uberti, — it was sufficient to barrow
the soul with the most frightful forebodings on her
account.

But to resume the thread of my narrative. The
little hamlet, or group of huts, was reached in the
manner already described: Marco Uberti curtly
issued a few orders, which being spoken in the
Italian language, I could not understand; and
while he passed forward with his lovely and still
insensible burthen, the banditti who had me in
custody, made me alight at the door of a hut, the
cord having been previously unfastened from my
feet. From this hut a man with as ruffian a look
as that of any of my captors, came forth with a
lantern; and having exchanged a few words wilh
bis returned comrades, he made way for me to pass

JOS^VH WILMOT ; OB, THE MElfOIBS O? A MAN-3ERTAXT.

53

into that hut. The light of the lantern showed
me that the place contained a rude mattress
stretched upon some clean straw ; and there were
a few cooking utensils on a shelf. But I was soon
made aware that there was something else too
in this hut: and that was a chain, one end of
which was fastened to a portion of stone-work
which formed the massive chimney of the little
habitation. A ring or fetter at the other extre-
mity of this chain was fastened round my leg by
means of a padlock : the banditti retired, taking
the lantern with them ; and I was left a prisoner
in total darkness, and to the gloomy companionship
of my own thoughts.

The chain permitted me to throw myself upon
the mattress — which I did : for I was exhausted
by all that I had gone through. Knocked off the
box of the post-chaise — then riding a spirited
horse at a tremendous rate— and thrown from
that animal's back with considerable violence, — I
had indeed experienced enough to prostrate me ;
and I was covered with bruises. But though thus
wearied, I had not the least inclination for sleep :
I was agitated by appalling apprehensions on my
own account, and on that of Olivia Sackville. I
need hardly say that I tried to- see if I could slip
off the fetter to which the chain was fastened : but
I could not.

In about half-an-hour I heard the trampling of
steeds in the vicinage of the hut, and voices con-
versing in tones of coarse hilarity. I concluded
that these were the remaining members of the
gang returning from their work of plunder in
respect to the travelling-carriage and the post-
chaise ; and it was pretty evident from their mirth
and laughter that they had every reason to be
satisfied with their booty — although of course I
could not comprehend what was passing between
them.

In another half-hour the door of the hut sud-
denly opened ; and Marco Uberti, accompanied by
two of his followers — one of whom carried a Ian-
tern in his hand — made his appearance. The
description I had heard of ^im at the village-
hotel, was strictly accurate : he was short, stout,
and powerfully built : he had evidently been good-
looking in his earlier years, before dissipation and
the traces of all the worst and darkest passions of
the human soul had marred his coimtenance. His
eyes were dark and piercing : his bushy brows in
their ebon blackness contrasted strikingly with
his hair which was streaked with gray : but his
look was not altogether so ferocious as I had an-
ticipated from his description as well as from his
character. He was dressed in a semi-military
uniform — a blue frock-coat, gray trousers, and a
foraging cap with a gold band, — but all the worse
for wear, and soiled with the mud which his
horse's feet had thrown up. It appeared that one
of the individuals who accompanied him (not he
with the lantern), understood several languages,
and came to act as an interpreter. The following
colloquy then took place between Marco Uberti
and myself, through the medium of this linguist,
who, finding that I was an Englishman, spoke to
me in that tongue.

" I learn from one of my men who questioned
the postilion, that the young lady's father is an
English noblcmai), and I therefore suppose he is
exceedingly rich ?"

I " Before I answer any questions," I said, " it is
I absolutely necessary I should learn the motives for
which they are put."

" It is no use for you to assume an impudent
air. Answer all questions without putting any—
or you shall swing to the bough of the nearest
tree. Do you think your vile paltry life was
spared through any piding mercy ? or that those
into whose hands you have fallen, would hesitate
to take it if you anger them, just as they would
that of the veriest dog? Now, answer the ques-
tion that was put to you. What are the circum-
stances of the English nobleman ?"

It instantaneously struck me that Miss Olivia
was only carried off for the purpose of being re-
tained captive until a sum of money should be
paid for her ransom : and therefore I at once
concluded that it was better I should repre-
sent the truth in respect to Lord ELngwold's
means, so that too large an amount should not be
demanded at his hands.

" I can assure you," I said, speaking through
the interpreter, " that he is poor for an English
nobleman."

" But what do you mean by the word poor ?
Ideas of things are relative and comparative.
What is his annual income ?"

" Three thousand pounds, speaking in English
money."

Marco Uberti sneered contemptuously when
this sum was named to him by the interpreter ;
and then he reflected for a few minutes. At
length breaking silence, he said something to his
two men, which elicited their approval, as I could
tell by their looks ; and then the interpreter re-
marked to me, " The destiny of the young lady
is decided ; and if you ever see her father or
mother again, you may tell them that their
daughter has won for herself the infinite honour of
becoming Marco Uberti's bride. Now, as for
yourself, will your master ransom you ? and will
he conduct the negotiation in a fair and honour-
able manner ?"

Much as I was shocked at the thought of the
beautiful Olivia becoming the wife — or it would
no doubt be the mistress— of the lawless bandit,
it would be a miserable affectation on my part
not to admit that my next feeling was one of joy
at the prospect of having my own life spared ; and
though I knew not to what extent the demands of
the robbers might reach, nor how far Captain Bay-
mond might be inclined to extend his generosity
towards me, I hastened to exclaim, " Yea-— my
master will assuredly ransom me !"

"In that case," was the response, "you will
have writing materials given you in the morning
— you will pen a letter according to certain terms
which will be dictated — and you will then continue
our prisoner until the messenger whom we will
despatch with your note shall have returned."

Here the interview ended : Marco Uberti issued
from the hut, followed by his two men ; and I was
once again left in utter darkness, in solitude, and
to the companionship of my own thoughts-

54

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OE, THK MEMOIRS OP A MAN-SERVANT.

CHAPTER XXXXVIII.

THE TOWEE.

SCABCBIT a quarter of an Lour had elapsed after
I was thus left to mjself, when I heard the door
of the hut gently opening, and some one glided
stealthily in : but I could not see the individual,
so profound was the darkness — nor knew I whether
it was male or female. I started up on the mat-
tress, my chain clanking with the sudden motion ;
and a cold shudder swept through me — for my
first horrifying idea was that some ruffian was
43tealing in to murder me. Alow "Hush!" however
conveyed a partial reassurance — but not a com-
plete one : for how could I hope to find a friend
amongst that gang of miscreants?"

"Here! take this and use it," said a voice, ad-
dressing me in the English tongue, but speaking
iu 80 low a tone that I could not possibly have
recognised it even if in its louder accents it was
perfectly familiar to my ear. " An hour must suf-
fice for the work ; and then I shall return to you.
It is now considerably past midnight — and there
is no time to be lost."

While the man — for of a masculine sex the in-
dividual was — thus addressed me, his hand groped
about to encounter minej and he placed in my
grasp a small object which by the touch I imme-
diately discerned to be a sharp file. He stole out
of the hut, gently closing the door behind him ;
and I lost not a moment in going to work with
the instrument thus supplied me. Though my
hands continued busy in filing away at the ring,
which was attached to my leg just below the
knee, my thoughts had leisure for surmise and
conjecture. Who could the friendly individual
be ? Supposition pointed to the man who had
acted as interpreter, from the fact that my
mysterious well-wisher had addressed me in
English; and methought too that I recognised
— now that I came to reflect — the same degree
and style of foreign accent which had marked the
interpreter's mode of speech. But then, where-
fore should he thus succour me ? had my appear-
ance moved him to compassion ? or was there any
ulterior purpose to serve ? On these points con-
jecture was of course useless: but as the time was
wearing on, I supposed that I should soon have
that pr4rt of the mystery cleared up. I thought,
when first taking possession of the file, that an
hour would be ample time to cut through the ring :
but I soon found that my progress was not so
great as I had expected, and that iron does not
eat into iron with so much readiness as man preys
upon his fellow-man. Indeed, when I had calcu-
lated that an hour mubt have well nigh passed,
the ring was yet very far from being severed—
and it resisted all my attempts to snap it.

Presently I heard the door slowly opening
again ; and my unknown friend entered.

"What progress have you made.!"" he at once
inquired, but still speaking in the same low and
Tinrecognisable voice as before; yet the accents
tended to confirm my suspicion that he was indeed
the interpreter.

" The ring is barely three parts severed," I re-
plied in a whisper.

His two hands quickly felt for the ring ; and by

a dexterous jerk, which he was belter enabled to
give than I, he broke it at once.

" 'Now follow me with all possible precaution^
and speak not a word."

He took my hand, and led me forth from the
hut. The darkness was still complete beneath the
dense canopy of trees ; but as my eyes got more
and more accustomed to it, I could just discern
that my unknown friend was taller than the in-
terpreter— and therefore he was indeed still un-
known. We passed through the wood, he guiding
me by an evidently circuitous route ; and then, as
we abruptly emerged from the dense shade of the
trees, I found myself close by the wall of what
appeared to' be the ruin of a large tower or castel-
lated edifice. This, be it observed, was the lofty
object 1 had caught a glimpse of when first in-
troduced on that memorable night to the group of
huts in the midst of the embowering wood. But
the sky had become much darker in the interval ;
and though no longer involved in the dense ob-
scurity of the wood, yet objects were only seen
dimly and indistinctly. I looked at my com-
panion : his tall form ii\a8 enveloped in a fiowing
mantle ; and as he stopped to address me I could
just discern that he had a black mask upon his
countenance.

" One of the most perilous incidents of ouf pro-
ceeding," he said, still speaking in the lowest
possible whisper, "is now to take place. Round
the angle of that building a sentinel is posted. It
is for you to overpower him. I do not wish death
to be urmecessarily dealt : yet if need be, you
must take his life, or it may be impossible to
rescue the English lady from a horrible fate.
Are you the man to proceed with the enter-
prise P"

" Show me the means, and fear not on my
account," was my firm though hastily given re-
sponse.

" 'Tis well !" said my companion. " Here is a
sword whereof the handle is heavy. Steal round
the corner, and deal the sentinel a blow with that
handle sufficient to stun him : then gag him with
your kerchief— bind him hand and foot with this
cord — and drag him round the next angle so as to
leave clear the doorway at which he is posted.
But if the first blow fail, hesitate not to deal a
second — and let it be a sure one. Should I hear
the least struggling, I shall be in a moment by
your side to render assistance. Yet spare his life,
if it be possible : for though our own would be
scarcely wc rth five minutes' purchase in case of
detection, yet am I loth that blood should be un-
necessarily shed."

Without waiting to reflect upon the singularity
of the circumstance of so perilous and difficult a
portion of the proceeding being allotted exclusively
to me, when if my companion were to render his
assistance the task of overpowering the sentinel
would be comparatively easy and prompt of per.
formance, — I took the cord and the sword. The
former I tied loosely round my waist, so that it
might be instantaneously available for use ; and
the latter I found to be of the weight and form of
a cutlass. Grasping it by the blade in such a
manner that it might serve the purpose of a
bludgeon, I stole up to the angle of the building,
and peeping round for a moment, discerned the
dark form of the sentinel leaning on his rifle in a

JOSEPH WIIMOT; OB, THE MEMOIKS OF A MAN-SERTAITT.

55

lounging attitude, and with his back towards me.
The nest instant the heavy hilt of the cutlass de-
scended upon his head ; and he fell forward with
only a low moan. My knee was upon his back
quick as the eye can wink : but he moved not, be-
yond a slight spasmodic quivering. I turned him
round, and thrust my kerchief into his mouth.
Then, with the utmost celerity, I bound him hand
and foot ; and according to the instructions I had
received, dragged him round the next angle of the
building, depositing him in the midst of some
long rank grass. I waited for a few moments to
assure myself that he was not dead : for though I
really need not have stood on any squeamish punc-
tilio with the bandit, I was nevertheless averse to
have his death upon my conscience. Having con-
vinced myself that he was only stunned, I hastened
back towards the spot where I had left my com-
panion ; and quickly informed him that everything
had been done in pursuance of hia instruc-
tions.

It appeared that the sentinel had been posted at
a door deeply set in a Gothic arch ; and this door
my unknown companion at once opened — for it
was not locked. He led me across the threshold
into a place where utter darkness prevailed, but
which by the odour and by the sounds of animals
moving, I at once knew must be the banditti's
stables. My companion having the materials for
producing a light about him, a match was applied
to a candle in a lantern suspended to the ceiling ;
and ho bade me lose no time in saddling and
bridling a particular horse which he indicated.
While I was thus engaged, he made a rapid sur-
vey of the other steeds, — there being perhaps fif-
teen or sixteen in all; and having selected one
which either by its appearance or from previous
knowledge he judged most fitted for the service it
had to perform, he caparisoned the animal with a
lady's side-saddle and with a light bridle: for I
should observe that in one corner of this spacious
place, which had evidently at one time been the
entrance-hall of the castellated edifice, there was a
space boarded off for a harness-room, and where
there was a miscellaneous assortmeut of all such
materials.

When the two horses were caparisoned, my un-
known friend was leading the one which he had
got ready towards the door, when his hat came in
contact with the lantern : it fijll off, carrying away
his mask with it — and to my indescribable aston-
ishment I recognised Angelo Volterra. So im-
mense was my amazement that I gave vent to an
ejuculation: he clutched me forcibly by the arm —
and his face, naturally of a dusky tint, was now
pale even to ghastliness with his emotions.

"Hush! for heaven's sake hush!" he said.
" And now that you know me, you must swear
not to betray me."

" Good God !" I ejaculated, but in a low voice :
" was it you that gave the information which led
to the attack -"

"No— ten thousand times no !" exclaimed Vol-
terra, his cheeks now flushing with every appear-
ance of the haughtiest indignation. " Think you

that if I had been so vile But enough ! You

must swear that you will not even breathe to a
living soul the name of liim who succoured you
this night, and who through you purposes to effect
the flight of Olivia Sackville. Or at least," he

added, " you must swear to keep the secret until
it shall be no longer necessary to retain it."

" I cannot take such an oath !" I answered ;
for I felt it to bo my imperious duty to make
Olivia aware, if we did indeed escape together,
that her love was conferred upon a bandit— or at
least upon the associate of banditti.

" Then all is lost !" rejoined Volterra — not with
rage nor passion — but with a look and tone so
deeply desponding, so full of an ineffable despair,
that for the moment I was smitten with com-
passion towards him.

" And wherefore should all be lost ?" I asked.
"You must have good feelings, or you would
not undertake all this for the rescue of that
lady "

" Good feelings !" he echoed : and an expression
of loftiness swept over his countenance. " If you
did but know me — if you did but understand me —
if you could but read this heart of mine, you would
not for another instant hesitate to comply with my
request. But every moment is precious — precious
as gold ! The robbers are banqueting — but if the

time for relieving the sentinel should arrive

Oh !" he abruptly exclaimed, " will you not put
faith in a man who is giving you every proof of
those good feelings by which you have appealed to
him ? On my soul, I am not what I seem !"

While he was thus speaking, uproarious shouts
of merriment from some other part of the building
reached our ears.

" Oh, if in his drunken madness TJberti should
take it into his head to perpetrate an atrocity !"
exclaimed Volterra, with such ineffable anguish de-
picted upon his countenance, that I, but too well
catching his meaning, shuddered from head to
foot.

" There is one condition !" I said, as an idea
suddenly struck me.

" Name it ! name it !" he vehemently ejaculated :
but still this hasty colloquy was carried on in a
tone scarcely above a whisper.

" I will take the oath— and I will keep it," was
my response, " so long as I am in a condition to
have the certainty that you will not again see
Miss Olivia Sackville "

"From what I have learnt," interrupted An-
gelo Volterra, " your master Captain Raymond
intends to winter at ITlorence — as do also the
Eingwold family. You will therefore be en-
abled to watch whether I violate the condition
which you impose. And that condition 1 ac-
cept it ! Hear me then swear that never again
will I seek the presence of the Eiugwold family
unless enabled to do so under circumstances that
will allow me to explain all that must be so darkly
mysterious in your eyes !"

" And I on the other hand," I now unhesi-
tatingly said, "as solemnly swear that I will
not breathe your name in a manner that shall pre-
judice you in the opinion of any one."

" I confide in your honour !" exclaimed Volterra,
grasping my hand and pressing it with enthusiasm.
"There is so much frankness in your looks— so
much genuine honesty in your countensinee — that
I believe you, and my mind is at ease. Now let
us lead forth these animals."

Volterra put on his hat, which the lantern had
knocked off: but the mask ho consigned to his
pocket — and therefore I saw that he had all

along worn it only in the hope of effectually con-
eealing his countenance from my view. We led
forth the horses ; and he, proceeding first, plunged
with the animal whose rein he held into the
wood.

" IsTow we must fasten the horses to this tree,"
he said, " and all the rest depends upon yourself.
I am about to instruct you how you are to effect
the rescue of Lord Eingwold's daughter. But first
let me tell you how you are to proceed when that
deliverance shall be accomplished. We stand at
this moment at the entrance of a path leading
through the wood in a contrary direction from
that by which you were brought to the banditti's
hamlet ; you will have little difficulty in pursuing
the path — and moreover the horses know it. On
emerging from the wood, at a distance of about
three quarters of a mile, you must take the road
to the right — follow it carefully — diverge not from
it — and in less than two hours from the time of
starting, you will reach a village. Thence you can
procure a guide and an escort — perhaps even a
vehicle ; and you will do well to push on to Flo-
rence without delay — for doubtless your master
will have proceeded thither, and the parents of
the lady likewise, to invoke the Grand Duke's aid
in rescuing her whom we ourselves are about to
save. Here is gold for the expenses of your
journey : and now listen attentively to the final
instructions which I have to give, and which
though last, are the most important of all."

Angelo Volterra had placed a heavy purse in
my hand as he spoke; and he continued in the
following manner : —

" Now retrace your way to the spot where you
left the sentinel : assure yourself that he is still
gagged and secure : pass round the building and
you will reach another door. It is unfastened —
enter without fear — and in the little vestibule with
which it communicates, you will find an inner
door. It will be merely bolted : open it— and you
will behold the object of your search. Hurry her
away with you — lead her to this spot — and see that
ye both mount hastily."

Volterra paused for a moment : and then added,
"I shall linger here — but concealed in the deep
obscurity. If all pass off well, my presence will
remain unnoticed : but if there be discovery and
pursuit— in a word, if aught go wrong, then with
the weapons which I have about me will I battle
unto the very last to cover the retreat of Olivia
and yourself. Remember your pledge— and in no
case violate it !"

I gave a reassuring answer, and hui-ried away to
execute the instructions I had received. The
sentinel had recovered his consciousness; and so
far from his life being endangered, he was now in
the enjoyment of the fullest vitality, which he was
exercising for the purpose of releasing hia arms
from the bonds and relieving his mouth from the
gag, — so that it was fortunate I returned to him
at that moment. But I had so bound him that
he could not rise to his feet. I thrust the gag
further into his throat— I tightened the cords —
and even through the obscurity which prevailed, I
could see the convulsive rage which distorted the
miscreant's countenance. Doubtless he would have
killed me on the spot if he had the power : and
yet I had taken so much pains to avoid the neces-
sity of robbing him of his life !

I had retained possession of tho cutlass, with
which I was determined to defend myself until the
very last, if seen and attacked by any others of the
banditti. I passed round the building; and
glancing up, perceived lights streaming through an
array of four windows, whence the sounds of the up-
roarious merriment evidently came ; and therefore
I had no doubt that those were the windows of the
robbers' banqueting-hall. I passed on, and
reached the door which Angelo Volterra had de-
scribed to me. As he had given me to imderstand,
it yielded to my touch ; and I found myself in a
small vestibule lighted by an iron lamp suspended
to the arched ceiling. On the left hand was an*
other door, with two massive bolts : these I drew
back — and as the door opened, I perceived that
there was a light inside. As I crossed the threshold,
I instantaneously caught a glimpse of Olivia Sack-
vUle, who had evidently that moment started up
from a seat near a small round table ;— and I may
observe that the chamber was tolerably well fur-
nished. Her countenance was as pale as death :
her very lips, naturally of so bright a carmine
hue, were ashy : her hair was floating all dis-
hevelled over her shoulders and down her back :
her hands were clasped — and she was on the point
of falling upon her knees to implore mercy of the
terrible bandit whom she expected to appear before
her. But when she saw that it was I, indescribably
rapid was the change that took place in her looks :
for they at once expressed hope, suspense, and
amazement.

" Come quick. Miss Sackville !" I said : " delay
not — and we shall both be saved !"

She darted upon me a glance of wild joy and
fervid gratitude — thrust on her bonnet and shawl —
and thus in a few moments was ready to accompany
me. We sped along — the prostrate sentinel was
passed — the angles of the building were turned—
and in safety we reached the wood where the horses
were awaiting us. I assisted Miss Sackville to
mount : I sprang upon the other steed ; and I said
with a significancy which she could comprehend
not, but which another whom I knew to be close
by could full well understand, "Ten thousand,
thousand thanks to him who by liberating me,
afforded the means of assuring your delirer*
ance !"

I then led the way along the path through the
wood, which we tbureaded without another word
being spoken. On gaining the road, I broke that
silence by inquiring if Miss Sackville was accus-
tomed to ride on horseback P'-and she at once re-
sponded in the afBrmative.

" But tell me," she said, in accents of feverish
anxiety—" tell me, even before I speak a syllable of
gratitude towards yourself, whether my beloved
parents are safe ?"

I explained to her how I had quitted the scene
of the attack the very moment after she herself
was carried off— and that therefore I was in com-
plete ignorance of what had subsequently occurred :
but I added that there was every reason to hope
and believe that no violence had been used towards
Lord and Lady Eingwold, nor any unnecessary
cruelty inflicted on my master beyond the tying
him to the post-chaise : — "Because," I added, "the
individual who ere now gave me my freedom, bade
me conduct you to Florence ; for thither, he saiJ,
your noble father and mother as well as Captain

JOSEPH W1LM01-; on, THE MKMOIHS OP A MAN-SERVANi

57

M I

•ll_'->

' '■■"""■■'''i'ly:..

^'^i4liJJi-^«>'

Bayrnond are certain to proceed with the least
possible delay."

I furthermore suffered Miss Sackville to com-
prehend that it was one of the banditti who having
taken compassion on us both, had thus accom-
plished our deliverance — but that not daring to
stand the risk of his friendly connivance being
suspected by his comrades, he had so arranged
matters that it would appear as if my escape had
taken place altogether unaided. As for the cir-
cumstance of my knowing where she was confined,
and likewise of being enabled to obtain possession
of horses, the friendly robber (I said) had no doubt
calculated that his comrades would be so utterly
in the dark as to be unable to form the slightest
conjecture upon the point. And now Olivia
poured f<>rth the sincerest gratitude towards me
for the perils I had incurred on her behalf; and
she rearUlv consented to press forward with all poa-
60'

sible speed, not merely to elude pursuit if it were
instituted, but likewise to be relieved with the
shortest delay in respect to the somewhat painful
misgivings which still haunted her on account of
her parents.

We reached the village that Volterra had men-
tioned to me, and alighted at a small hostelry,
where we had to knock up the inmates : for it
was not as yet five o'clock in the morning. Fortu-
nately the landlord could speak French: otherwise
our position would have been somewhat awkward,
as neither Miss Sackville nor myself knew a single
syllable of Italian. I thought it better to explain
that we had escaped from the power of Marco
Uberti's band, not merely to account for the cir-
cumstance of the young lady travelling alone with
me at such unseemly hours, but also as a reason
for requiring an escort. The landlord seemed to
bo so lost in amazement at the tule that for

58

JOSEPH WILMOT; OB, THE ITEMOIES OF A MAW-SERVA>'T.

some minutes he could do nothing but give vent
to ejaculations of wonder in his own tongue; and
then he hastened to interpret our explanations to
his wife. Ultimately however we ascertained that
a chaise could be furnished us : but as for the
escort, it was not so easy a matter to accomplish,
unless we chose to wait an hour or two till the
mayor could be seen. I recommended Miss Sack-
yille to decide upon pursuing the journey without
delay, inasmuch as long ere this our flight must
have been discovered when the banditti went to
relieve the sentinel. She placed herself entirely
at the guidance of my counsel: we partook of
some refreshments — and the chaise was then in
readiness. It was a wretched rattletrap of a con-
cern : but that signified little — for on the other
hand two good strong horses were attached to it.
I had retained my cutlass : I purchased a pair of
pistols of the landlord; and taking my seat on the
box, I resolved to do my duty until the very last,
if we were overtaken and attacked. The landlord
inquired what he was to do with the two steeds
that had borne us thither: and I recommended
him to consult the mayor of the village, or any
local authority upon the subject.

Our journey was now resumed. Half-an-hour's
drive brought us to the limit of the Apennines ;
and we passed through the town of Pistoja, from
which Florence was about twenty-five miles dis-
tant. . We were in the Tuscan dominions ; and the
farther we advanced the more charming was the
aspect of the country in the clear daylight. All
was verdure there, as if it were bright midsummer.
The road wound its way along the bank of a river
in the pellucid depths of which the shadows of
overhanging trees were reflected : and from the
midst of groves the birds sent forth their blithe
carolling, — thus reminding me of joyous spring in
my own native England. Ever and anon I looked
back to see whether we were pursued : but when
Pistoja had been passed and we advanced farther
and farther into Tuscany, my apprehensions grew
fainter and fainter. At length the Apennines
were left so far behind that they now wore the
aspect of an assemblage of blue clouds skirting the
surface of the earth. The horses were changed —
the journey was continued — and it was yet early
when we entered the city of Florence.

Miss Sackville knew the name of the hotel at
which her parents had intended to put up ; and
on arriving there she was instantaneously relieved
from all farther suspense and was speedily clasped
in the arms of Lord and Lady Eingwold. Cap-
tain Eaymond was likewise there : for after the
attack by the robbers, they had journeyed on until
Florence was reached, — Angelo Yolterra's opinion
being well founded, that they would use all possible
despatch to invoke the succour of a detachment of
ducal troops in order to rescue Olivia from the
hands of the miscreants. 2^eed I say that Lord
and Lady Eingwold had endured the most poignant
mental tortures on their beloved daughter's ac-
count— or that their joy was now indescribably
great in receiving her back to their arms ? Or is
it necessary for me to declare that I was over-
whelmed with the warmest expressions of grati-
tude and the most enthusiastic praises for the part
that I had performed ? As for the valet and the
lady's-maid, relative to whose fate I had remained
in imcertainty, — I soon found that they were

safe. It appeared the maid had been onlv in a
swoon upon the bos of the carriage when I
caught a glimpse of her there ; and the valet had
been stunned by a blow which had knocked him
into the road.

Eeserved and distant to a certain extent as
Captain Eaymond's manner had habitually been
towards me, he now completely unbent — grasped
me warmly by the hand— and lavished the highest
encomiums upon me. I told Lord and Lady Eing-
wold and Captain Eaymond precisely the same
tale that I had narrated to Miss Sackville, — and
which indeed was every syllable correct, save and
except only in the representation that our deli-
verance was to be attributed to an anonymous
friendly bandit instead of to Angelo Yolterra.

"It is fortunate indeed that circumstances
should have thus turned out," said Captain Eay-
mond, " inasmuch as from certain information we
hAve obtained there seemed to be no chance that
the ducal troops would be placed at our dispos il.
Marco Uberti and hi» band would have led them
such a dance amongst the Apennines that they
would have been wearied out — perhaps enticed
into a defile where they would have sustained
terrific loss ; and all these casualities being held in
view, the Tuscan authorities would have refused
to send any troops at aU."

" It certainly does seem extraordinary," I re-
marked, "that if there were a possibility of c p-
turing these desperadoes, the Grand Duke and
his government should not have long ago adopted
measures for the accomplishment of that aim."

"And there is perhaps another reason," re-
sumed Captain Eaymond, '• why nothing of the
sort has as yet been done. From what the land-
lord of the hotel told us on our arrival at an early
hour this morning, the Grand Duke is inclined
to deal charily and leniently with Marco Uberti."

" Is it because the terrible bandit-chief was
ouce an officer in the ducal household?" I in-
quired : " for if so, the Tuscan Sovereign carries
his attachment towards a discarded dependant to a
very remarkable extent."

" No one appears to be well able to solve this
mystery," replied Captain Eaymond. " Some
imagine that Marco Uberti is acquainted with
certain State secrets of such vital importance that
the Grand Duke would on no account have them
revealed : others declare that they are family
secrets whereof Marco Uberti is thus in possession,
and that they are of such a delicate character it
is most desirable to prevent them from becoming
known. But from what the landlord said, it would
appear that there are persons who hold the belief
that when Marco Uberti tied some years back on
account of slaying a brother-oflScial in a quarrel
over their wine-cups, he carried ofi" with him a
number of important papers, the publication of
which would most seriously compromise the Grand
Duke in respect to his diplomatic dealings with
other Sovereigns. But be all this as it may, there
have been positive proofs that Marco Uberti does
possess some mysterious means of finding favour
with the Tusc.m Prince. Twice during his brigand-
career has he been captured when venturing alono
and in disguise into the heart of Tuscan towns
near the Apennines; and on both occasions,
though condemned to death, he Las been sufiered
to escape with the notorious connivance of the

JOSEPH WILMOT; OE, THE MEMOIES OF A MAN-SEEVANT.

59

authorities. Under all these circumstances, there-
fore, it was by no means probable that the Grand
Duke would have lent the aid of his troops for the
rescue of an English lady when he shows himself
BO indifferent in respect to what his own subjects
endure at the hands of those brigands."

Here the conversation ended. I should observe
that the banditti had plundered the Eingwolds and
Captain Eaymond of all their money and jewellery ;
and they had even taken off with them from the
scene of their iniquitous exploit, such articles of
wearing apparel and linen as they fancied from the
various trunks, — my own, as I now found, not
having formed an exception. Were it not for the
civility of the landlord of the hotel at the nearest
village to that scene of plunder, the travellers
would have found themselves entirely destitute of
funds wherewith to pursue their way to Florence, —
which journey, as abeady hinted, they had pro-
secuted for the remainder of the night. None of
their private papers had been taken from them ;
and as both Lord Eingwold and Captain Raymond
had circular letters of credit on the principal con-
tinental bankers, they were at once enabled to re-
plenish their purses. Captain Raymond gene-
rously insisted on making good the amount of my
loss in respect to the things abstracted from my
trunks ; and he placed a liberal sum in my hands
— ostensibly as an indemnification — but I com-
prehended perfectly well that it was also as a re-
ward for my conduct during the past night. In
the course of the afternoon I was summoned to the
Ring wolds' sitting-room in the hotel; and when
his lordship, his wife, and daughter had once more
renewed the expression of their thanks, the young
lady with her own hand presented me a small
packet, — observing at the same time, " Nothing can
ever repay the amount of obligation I owe you :
but this will at least serve to remind you hence-
forth that you behaved in the noblest manner
towards one who is not ungrateful."

I bowed and retired. On ascending to my own
chamber in the hotel, I opened the parcel, and
found its contents to consist of a very handsome
gold watch and chain. The present, for more
reasons than one, was not unwelcome : I naturally
valued it as a memorial of the service which I had
been instrumental in rendering; and it likewise
furnished me with an useful appendage instead of
the one I had lost on the preceding night : — for I
forgot to observe in its proper place that during
the time when I lay in a state of unconsciousness
after being knocked off the post-chaise, the ban-
ditti had rifled me of both watch and purse.

CHAPTER LXXXIX.

IHE DrCAl EECEPIION.

Some days passed, during which I amused myself
by visiting the public buildings of Florence, and
becoming acquainted with its beautiful environs —
especially in the vale of the Arno. One morning
when I awoke, the first thought that flashed
to my mind was that the loth of November,
1841, was now reached ; and that precisely one
twelvemonth bad elapsed since that memorable

day on which Sir Matthew Heseltine had decreed
the probationary period of two years.

'■'Yes — one year has elapsed," I said to myself:
" and what countless incidents have been crowded
therein ! All that I have seen and gone through
during this one year, was sufficient for a life-time.
Has it enlarged my experiences ? has it taught me
an easier and a deeper reading of the human
heart ? Yes — I feel that I can answer these
queries in the affirmative. One year has fled:
an equal period must be passed ere 1 can return
to Heseltine Hall to learn my fate. And what
were the old Baronet's words ere I took my de-
parture?— 'If at the expiration of this proba-
tionary interval of two years,' he said, ' you find
yourself, by any misdeeds committed in the mean-
time, to be unworthy of an alliance with my grand-
daughter, you will be at least honourable, wise,
and prudent enough to refrain from keeping the
appointment.' — It was thus that Sir Matthew
Heseltine spoke : methinks I see him now as he
gazed upon me then ! But can I not lay my hand
upon my heart with the consciousness of unim-
paii-ed rectitude ? Will he be so cruel as to deny
me the hand of the beauteous Annabel, because
through the treachery of a villain I was plundered
of the funds he placed at my disposal and have
sunk down into a state of servitude again ? Or
will he not rather esteem me all the more highly
for the reason that so far from applying to him
for a replenishment of my purse, I at once ad-
dressed myself to the pursuits of honest industry
in order to earn my bread ? Heaven alone knows
what this second arid last year of my probation
may bring forth: but one thing is certain— that
no temptation shall beguile me into error — no
blandishment however sweet, and no trial however
severe, shall cause my steps to stray from that
path of rectitude which for the first year I have
so faithfuUy pursued. And when the 15th of
November, 1842, shall come, I may find myself
enabled to appear before the old Baronet, feeling
that at least I deserve to be received with open
arms. Oh ! and if then, to use his own words,
there be festivities and rejoicings, they will not be
given solely to welcome the wanderer home — but
to herald that still brighter day when the hand of
Annabel shall be clasped in mine at the altar !"

Yet whUe indulging in these reflections —
balancing my hopes and fears, and in the enthu-
siasm of the heart giving an immense preponder-
ance to the former — there was one painful recollec-
tion which stole into my mind, — the saddest and
mournfullest reminiscence connected with the past
twelvemonth, so far as I myself was personally
concerned : and the reader will scarcely require to
be informed that it was in connexion with Calanthe
and our child. Never, never could I think of that
tragedy of the chateau without a painful tighten-
ing at the heart, as well as with apprehension lest
if that fatal amour of mine were known to Sir
Matthew it would prove destructive of my hopes
with regard to Annabel.

Let me pursue the thread of my narrative; and
be it borne in mind that I am now writing of the
loth of November, 1841. On this day there was
to be a grand reception at the ducal palace — a
ceremony corresponding with the^united ones of a
levee and drawing-room at the Court of the BritislI
Sovereign : that is to say, it was a reception for

GO

JOSEPH WILMOT; OR, THK MFMOIHS OF A MAN-^iEEVANT.

the higher cl-iss of both sexes. The Eingwolds
and Captain Itaymond were to be present on the
occasion ; and my maste'r — who since the affair iu
the Apennines had treated me in the most friendly
manner — said to me after breakfast, when I was
attending upon him in his own room, "The Court
reception will, I understand, be a brilliant one :
have you any curiosity to witness it ?"

I answered that I should be much pleased to
behold such a ceremony.

"You shall be gratiCed, Joseph," responded the
Captain. " It appears that in the great hall where
the reception takes place, there is a large gallery
for the accommodation of those who, not having
the privilege of the actual entree, are nevertheless
able to obtain cards to witness the proceedings.
Lord Eingwold has obtained a card from the
English Minister at the Florentine Court ; and it
was with the kind consideration that you might
perhaps like to avail yourself of it. Here it is.
You must apparel yourself in your best : and I do
not flatter you, Joseph," added Captain Eaymond,
with a smile, " when I venture to predict that iu
gentility of appearance you will be second to none
in that gallery."

I took the card, thanking Captain Eaymond for
having undertaken to present it to me, and beg-
ging that he would express my gratitude to Lord
Eingwold for having procured it on my account.

" By the bye," said the Captain, as I was about
to leave the room, " I am going to dine to-day at
the British Minister's; and therefore after the
ceremony your time will be at your own disposal.
Indeed you may regard it as a whole holiday."

As I left the Captain's presence, I could not
help thinking there was something singular in the
coincidence that he should of his own accord bid
me observe as a holiday this very day which in my
own mind I had already marked as such, on ac-
count of its being the anniversary of that memora-
ble date when Sir Matthew Heseltine gave me to
understand that under certain circumstances I
might aspire to the hand of the charming Anna-
bel. Proceeding to my own chamber, I put on
my best apparel ; and at about noon repaired to
the ducal palace. The card at once procured me
admission to the gallery, which was already more
than half filled with well-dressed persons of both
sexes. I however obtained a good seat in the
third tier from the front ; and as there was yet
halfan-hour until the commencement of the cere-
mony, 1 had ample leisure to survey the magnifi-
cent hall. It was of immense size, and lofty in
proportion. From the doors beneath the gallery
a carpet of purple velvet, fringed with gold, and
about three yards wide, stretched across the marble
pavement to a sort of dais, on which stood two
thrones for the accommodation of the Grand Duke
and Duchess. The windows of this superb hall
were of stained glass : the intervals between them
were occupied by pictures from the pencils of the
first masters; and along the walls were ranged
statues and vases. As yet the body of the hall
itself was empty : but the gallery where I was
seated, was rapidly filling.

Precisely at half-past twelve o'clock the sounds
of a splendid military band stationed somewhere
outside, came ecljoing through the hall ; and from
S side- door near the dais the ducal procession
made its appearance. It was opened by a body

of troops — for on the Continent no ceremony is
considered complete without the presence of sol-
diery ; and these troops, breaking into two lines,
ranged themselves along the walls in front of the
statues and vases. Several noblemen and gentle-
men in court dresses entered after the troops, and
stationed themselves on either side of the dais:
then five or six personages, walking together, and
forming an exclusive knot of their own, made
their appearance, placing themselves by the side
of the thrones, only standing a little back; and
these I was informed were the Ministers of State.
My informant, I may as well observe, was an
elderly and very agreeable Italian gentleman, who
sate next to me in the gallery, and who happened
to speak English, if not well, at least in a manner
that rendered him perfectly intelligible.

Scarcely had the Ministers thus entered and
taken their places, when there was a loud flourish
of trumpets from the brass band outside — the lines
of troops presented arms— and every hat in the
gallery was at once taken oft': for the Grand Duke
and his Duchess were now entering. It is not my
purpose to give any description of these per-
sonages : suffice it to say that they seated them-
selves with a becoming dignity in the gilded
chairs, or thrones, prepared for their reception ;
and a host of pages, ladies-in-waiting, and other
Court dependants, swelled the throng already
gathered on either side of the dais.

The entrance-doors underneath the gallery were
now thrown open; and numbers of handsomely
apparelled gentlemen and elegantly dressed ladies
began to pour in. I recognised amidst the fore-
most of the throng Lord and Lady Eingwold, and
immediately behind them the beautiful Olivia,
leaning on the arm of Captain Eaymond. The
Hon. Miss Sackville evidently attracted consider-
able attention: as well indeed she might— for
there was something splendid in that specimen of
Saxon loveliness. The company, as they poured
in, moved towards the upper end of the hall : but
the foremost stopped short at a respectful distance
from the dais, until the reception commenced.
Those who got there first were speedily increased
in number : but still there was no inconvenient
crowding ; and any individual of distinction or
any lady of remarkable beauty was certain to
attract a due share of attention. All of a sudden
I noticed that amongst those who were nearest to
the extremity which the gallery overhung, there
was a visible sensation ; and the cause of it was
speedily discerned by us who were up in that gal-
lery. It was a young lady leaning on the left
arm of an old gentleman ; and his right arm sup-
ported another lady. But, good heavens! — was it
possible ? did my eyes deceive me ? or did I
veritably and truly behold Sir Matthew Heseltine,
Annabel, and her mother .''

Yes : it was no dream — no delusion ! — and it was
Annabel who had thus become the cynosure of all
regards. Ah, Olivia, you were indeed eclipsed
now ! Who can describe Annabel's ravishing ap-
pearance ? Dressed in a robe of white richly-
watered silk, her exquisite figure was set off to the
utmost advantage: the luxuriant ringlets of
golden hue showered upon her neck and shoulders :
a wreath of pearls and a single white camelia de-
corated her head. I could not see her face : but I
could imagine all its ravishing beauty, witli tbj

JOSEPH WILMOT; OB, THE MEMOIES OF A MAN-SEBVANT.

Gl

modest blush upon it, and the large azure eyes
cast down beneath their dark fringes : for I knew
that Annabel was not one who possessed a vanity
that could be flattered by the universal homage
paid to her beauty as her light feet moved over the
purple velvet carpet fringed with gold.

Impossible would it be to describe the mingled
astonishment and joy which I experienced on be-
holding the object of my heart's devoted love.
For some minutes, I had no thought for anything
nor anybody else : all my ideas, all my faculties,
and all my susceptibilities of ecstatic feeling, were
concentrated in that one object. I gazed as if
looking on something that I had never seen before,
and now dazzled and bewildered, yet ineffably
ravished, by the appearance of that seraphic
figure. At length it all in a moment struck me
that those who sate next and near to me in the
gallery, might be amazed by the display of my
emotions : but as I glanced rapidly to the right and
left, I was relieved on observing that they had no
eyes nor attention for aught save the spectacle
that was passing before them.

And now I looked more attentively at Sir Mat-
thew Heseltine and Annabel's mother. I could
not see their faces any more than I could catch
a glimpse of that of Annabel : but I noticed that
the old Baronet walked with a firmer step than
he was wont to do when I was with him — and I
was rejoiced at this proof of the excellent health
which he experienced. Mrs. Lanover was hand-
somely dressed ; and she likewise walked with an
ease and lightness which contrasted in my remem-
brance with the sickly languor that had charac-
terized her in former times. But the effect which
Annabel's appearance produced upon that brilliant
assemblage amongst which there were already so
many rare specimens of female loveliness, alike
Italian and foreign, was visible to every eye, —
notwithstanding that it was necessarily subdued
by a prevailing well-bred courtesy, and likewise
by a sense of the august presence in which the
company found itself. To my heart the homage
thus silently yet eloquently paid by all eyes to
Annabel's bewitching loveliness, was fraught with
ineffable rapture ; and when the intelligent Italian
who sate next to me, made some observation on
the subject, I could not possibly conceal the whole
extent of what I felt.

" What a charming girl ! what an angelic
figure! what a beauteous shape!" he whispered
to me. " I would give the world to behold her
countenance ! If it only correspond with that

elegant form of hers But really one would

imagine that you had all of a sudden fallen
desperately in love with her ! I think she is a
native of your country : that golden hair bespeaks
as much How ravishing ! how beautiful !"

"Yes — ravishing and beautiful !" I involun-
tarily echoed, but likewise in a whisper : and then
the Italian's eyes were averted from my animated
countenance and riveted on Annabel's form again.

The reception now commenced,— the brilliant as-
semblage passing in pairs in front of the dais— the
gentlemen bowing low to the Grand Duke and
Duchess, who stood up during the ceremony : but
there was no kissing of hands. The proceeding
may be thus explained :— When the reception
began, the company all fell back on one side of the
line of carpet which intersected the length of the

hall ; and passing slowly in front of the thrones,
they defiled down the other side of the carpet, — in
this manner issuing forth from the doors under
the gallery. I noticed that the Grand Duchess
appeared much struck by Miss Olivia Sackville's
appearance, — following her with her eyes for a few
moments after she had passed. Several minutes
elapsed before Sir Matthew Heseltine, with Anna-
bel on his arm, appeared in front of the thrones, —
Mrs. Lanover being immediately behind her father
and daughter, and now in company with some
other lady who had been also compelled to separate
temporarily from her own party in order to observe
the rule of passing in pairs before the Tuscan Sove-
reigns. I was most anxious to ascertain how Annabel
would be received by the Grand Duchess, who was
evidently so much struck by the appearance of
Olivia. An enthusiastic joy took possession of my
soul when I perceived her Eoyal Highness stop
Annabel and address a few words to her. I knew
that Annabel spoke French fluently, and Italian
moderately well — thanks to the instructions which
she had received from her accomplished mother ;
and therefore in whichever language the Grand
Duchess addressed her, she was enabled to give a
response. Of all those who had previously passed,
not one had arrested so much attention as this :
it was a homage which the Grand Duchess no
doubt felt herself irresistibly led to pay to the
beauty of her who was peerless at the Tuscan
Court that day. Yes — it was a homage, and not
a mere act of condescension : and the Italian who
sate next to me, nudged my elbow, hastily whis-
pering, "There ! the Duchess is speaking to your
fair countrywoman ! I suspected her Eoyal
Highness would do so ! — I was convinced of it !"

Ah ! that must have been a proud moment
for old Sir Matthew and Mrs. Lanover, when they
beheld the being who was so dear to them thus
become the marked object of the Eoyal attention
in preference to all the rest ; and my own heart
was gushing with indescribable emotions. The
tears came into my eyes for very joy — but I
hastily wiped them away : yet I kept my handker-
chief partially up to my countenance : for Sir
Matthew and Annabel, together with Mrs. Lano-
ver, who had now taken her father's arm again,
were advancing amidst the line that was defiling
towards the doors. And now I could catch a
glimpse of Annabel's countenance : in a few
instants more I beheld it completely ; and my
Italian companion was in raptures when he found
that it did indeed so fully correspond with the
seraphic beauty of the figure. But I did not
choose to be seen by the old Baronet nor by Anna-
bel and her mother. It is true I would have given
the world to exchange one look with Annabel :
but I dared not risk the chances of meeting her
eyes if she should happen to glance up towards
the gallery, for fear that in the suddenness of the
surprise that would seize upon her, she should
direct her grandfather's attention in the same
direction. Accident had brought us into the same
city, and on this occasion to the same place : but
the old Baronet's instructions were equally as valid
as if we had been hundreds or thousands of miles
apart— and I was in no way to communicate with
Annabel, by letter, word, or look, until the proba-
tionary period should have expired. Oh ! it was
indeed hard when I thus beheld her in all the

62

JOSEPH WILilOT; OE, IHB lIEilOIKS OF A 3XAN-SEKVANI.

mingled radiance and basbfulness of her beauty —
her cheeks still suffused with the modest blush
which the marked attention of Eoyalty had con-
jured up, — at that moment, too, when lovely though
she always was, she seemed lovelier than ever to
my ravished gaze, — it was hard, I say, to restrain
myself from rushing down to the doors whence she
was about to issue, and snatch one pressure from
her hand, receive one word from her lips, and
drink in the delight of one glance from her azure
eyes ! But no — I dared not ! — and when she dis-
appeared from my view beneath the gallery, in
company with her grandfather and mother,* it
seemed as-if a beautiful vision had melted away
from my sight — as if darkness had suddenly taken
the place of light— as if there were a dreary void
where an angel a moment before had been !

I cared not for the rest of the proceedings;
indeed I saw nothing more throughout the re-
mainder of the ceremony. It is true that I con-
tinued gazing in the direction of the ducal thrones
— and doubtless I had the appearance of being as
much interested as at first: but in reality all my
attention was concentrated inward — my mental
vision was alone exercising its faculty — I saw only
the images of those three whom but an hour back
I had deemed far away, and whom I therefore so
little expected to behold in the Tuscan capital !

'•' Is it not a splendid spectacle ?" — and as my
Italian companion thus addressed me after a long
silence, I awoke with a sudden start as if it were
from a dream. " Ah ! you are thinking of that
beautiful creature who was the object of such uni-
versal admiration ? But still you cannot help ad-
miring the general spectacle. It is one of the
grandest receptions I have seen for some time. I
generally manage to obtain a card for admission to
the gallery. Ah ! I recollect that some six or
seven months ago there was a grander reception
still— and such a scene took place, I never shall
forget it 1"

As the Italian paused, I said for courtesy's sake,
" And what was that scene which made such an
impression upon you ?" — but I can assure the
reader that my thoughts continued to be far other-
wise engaged than with the Italian's conversa-
tion.

" At that time," he resumed, " the Grand
Duke's nephew, the Marquis de Cassano, was
Minister of the Interior : he was a man of great
accomplishments — liberal-minded — and would no
doubt have done a world of good, if he had not
been thwarted by the other Ministers. I must in-
form you that for a few days previous to that
grand reception of which I have spoken, strange
rumours had been in circulation to the effect that
the Marquis de Cassano was secretly conspiring
with the ultra-hberal party for the purpose of
compelling the Grand Duke to dismiss the ob-
noxious portion of his Cabinet and grant constitu-
tional freedom to his people. It was even said
that Cassano ba4 gone so far as to encourage the
ultra-liberals to take up arms and assume a
menacing attitude in order to carry out their views.
Some believed these tales — others did not : but
every ons appeared to think that some extraordi-
nary scene would take place at the reception. And

sure enough there did "

At this moment I was startled by something
which produced as sudden an effect upon me,

though of a very different nature, as the appear-
ance of Annabel had previously done. For hap-
pening to look slowly around the gallery, I per-
ceived the door at the extremity open at the same
instant ; and an individual thrusting his head in,
lookfed intently down into the body of the hall.
And that individual was Mr. Lanover !

The hall was now nearly emptied— the Grand
Duke and Duchess were retiring with their suite —
and the last remnant of the brilliant assembly
that had passed by the thrones, were defihng
towards the door. They were not twenty in num-
ber, and could therefore be scanned at a glance.
It appeared to be only such a glance as this that
Mr. Lanover threw upon them; and then he
immediately disappeared, the door of the gallery
closing again. He did not observe me : of this I
was perfectly confident : but his sudden apparition
turned all my thoughts into a new channel. My
Italian companion went on talking : but I scarcely
comprehended a word he said. I afterwards re-
membered only that he told me some tale about
the Marquis of Cassauo's detection and disgrace,
and of some exciting scene which occurred at the
grand reception whereof he had previously spoken.
I do not even know whether he had made an end
of his story by the time the persons in the gallery
rose to withdraw.

I took my leave of him ; and issuing forth from
the ducal palace, retraced my steps towards the
hotel. As I proceeded thither, I continued to
reflect on the sudden appearance of Mr. Lanover.
Could it be possible that he was on friendly terms
with Sir Matthew Heseltine — that he was again
living with his wife, and that they were all travel-
ling together ? I scarcely thought this could be
the case : but if it were otherwise, was he follow-
ing and watching them without their knowledge ?
and did he mean them mischief? — for Mr. Lanover
was certainly not an individual to go roaming
about the Continent on a mere excursion of plea-
sure. The longer I thought on all these things,
the more I was perplexed: I knew not at what
conclusion to arrive. Then, as I drew near the
hotel, it occurred to me that Sir Matthew and his
party might possibly have put up there— especially
if they had only very recently arrived in Florence :
for it being a spacious establishment, it was quite
possible for them to have been a day or two there
without my catching a glimpse of them. My first
care, therefore, on reaching the gateway, was to
inquire of the porter, who spoke several languages,
whether there were such persons staying at the
hotel; and the answer was in the negative: —
neither was there such an individual as Mr.
Lanover.

I did not choose to roam about the city while it
was daylight, for fear of encountering Sir Matthew
Heseltine, whose positive instructions I thus in-
cessantly kept in view : for I knew how much
depended on imphcit obedience to the will of the
eccentric old Baronet. Nevertheless my heart
yearned — Oh ! it yearned for a moment's interview
with Annabel; and I likewise reflected that if they
were aU ignorant of Mr. Lanover's presence in the
Tuscan capital, they ought to be made aware of it.
But then, on the other hand, if he were there with
the Baronet's knowledge and consent, would not
the circumstance of my giving an intimation on
the point be regarded as a mere excuse to present

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OE, THE MEMOIRS OP A MAN-SEKVANT.

G3

myself to Annabel. There was a strong and pain-
ful conflict within me, — at one moment my feel-
ings prompting me to speed off in the endeavour
to find where the Baronet was stopping — and the
next moment my fears and my prudence holding
me back. Thus the hours passed on, while I was
in this state of irresolution ; and when evening
came, it still found me reflecting in the solitude of
my own chamber.

CHAPTER XC.

THE FEAGMEyT OF THE lETTEE.

It was now dusk ; and I issued from the hotel
without any settled purpose in view. I walked
through the streets in a pre-occupied and abstracted
manner; and thus nearly an hour passed. I
thought of returning to the hotel, — when just as I
began to retrace my way, a person enveloped in a
cloak passed me rapidly ; and as he was proceeding
in the same direction, I had time to notice by the
glare ot a shop-light that he was Mr. Lanover.
Muffled though he were in that cloak, it was im-
possible to mistake his uncouth dwarfish form. I
felt persuaded he had not recognised me : indeed
he did not for an instant look back : and he con-
tinued his way with the rapidity of one who had
important business in view. The idea of some
treachery being contemplated by that man, was
immediately strengthened in my mind ; and I
followed in the same direction which he had taken,
and which indeed I was pursuing at the time.
He had in the first instance disappeared from my
view ; but as I quickened my pace, I speedily
came within sight of him again. He was still
hastening forward, looking neither to the right
nor the left; and I said to myself, "The ^ile
humpback has assuredly some mischief brewing."

For upwards of five minutes did I thus follow
him, until the street terminated at some stately
mansion surrounded by groves of evergreens.
There was a lane to the right and to the left :
but each path was so dark that I could discern no
human form as my looks were rapidly plunged
both one way and the other. INeither could my
ear catch the sounds of footsteps ; and thus I was
totally bewildered bow to act — for 1 had forgotten
while following Lanover, that the street terminated
so abruptly at that point, and I had not therefore
kept near enough to be still on his trail when he
disappeared amidst the darkness. But I had not
stood many moments hesitating what course to
adopt, when I heard the sounds of a horse's hoofs
approaching along one of the dark pathways to
which I ere now alluded-: the horseman (topped
short all of a sudden ; and then the sounds of a
man's footsteps were plainly audible. "Words were
exchanged by two voices; and one of them was
Mr. Lanover's.

Treadiug on tiptoe, and advancing with the
utmost caution, I crept along the wall of the
nobleman's mansion towards the spot where the
humpbiick and the horseman hud thus met : but
they were converging in tones so low that I
could not postvi) _>■ catch w Liit passed between
them— yet I fd,*' .ionvinced that it was in the
English tongue that they spoke. And I should

observe that the words they had first interchanged
were equally unintelligible as to sense, though,
they were audible as to sound. Even in the
lowest accents it was impossible to mistake the
harsh jarring voice of Mr. Lanover : but whose
voice the other was, I could not form the sliglitest
notion. As for the form of the horseman, so deep
was the obscurity which prevailed on the spot,
that I could only just discern a shape darker than
the darkness — but no outline of lineament, nor
even so much as the nature of the individual's
apparel. The interview between this person and
Lanover barely lasted three minutes : the former
suddenly wheeled round his horse and trotted
away at a good round pace — while the humpback
retraced his steps with rapidity, passing so close
to the spot where I was standing against the wall
that his cloak brushed against me.

" Now," I said to myself, when he was gone, " I
am more than ever convinced that there is some
mischief brewing : but of what nature can it possi-
bly be ?"

This query defied all conjecture : but an intui-
tive feeling made my imagination poinc to Sir
Matthew Heseltine's party as the object of that
mischief. I had no fear that it was directed
against myself. That scrap of a letter which I
had found at the chateau where Calanthe and the
child died, had convinced me even far more than
Lanover's compact with me at the same place,
that I was no longer the object of persecution on
the part of the person or persons who had ori-
ginally employed him as the agent of their atro-
cious and incomprehensible schemes.

But now that I felt assured the vile humpback
was meditating mischief to others — and those
others, especially on-e, the object of all my nearest
and dearest interest — I was in a moment relieved
from that uncertainty how to act which had been
for liours oppressing me. It was now nine o'clock
in the evening: but I nevertheless thought of
visiting all the principal hotels before I retired to
rest, in the hope of finding where Sir Matthew and
the two ladies were located. All of a sudden,
however, it struck me that, as English subjects,
they must have obtained their cards of admission
to the reception from the British representative at
the Florentine Court. Accordingly to that Minis-
ter's mansion I at once bent my way ; and a quar-
ter of an hour's walk brought me thither. I asked
the gate-porter if there were not a book kept at
the Embassy containing a registry of the names of
all English visitors who paid their respects to the
Envoy ? I was answered in the afilrmative ; and
the porter at once conducted me to a waiting,
room where the "visitors' book" was placed before
me for my inspection. I speedily discovered the
signatures of Sir Matthew Heseltine, Mrs. Lanover,
and Miss Bentinck — (for be it recollected that ac-
cording to the old Baronet's desire, his grand-
daughter had resumed the surname of her father).
Oh, how delighted I was to behold the beautiful,
fluent, but delicate hand of the adored Annabel !
I saw by thB date prefixed to the signatures that
they had only been two days in Florence ; and
with regard to the address, it was at an hotel, but
quite in a distinct quarter of Florence from that
iu which the establishment was situated where I
dwelt with my master. I must add that the name
of Mr. Lanover did not appear in the visitors'

64

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OR, THE MEMOIRS OP A MAN-SERVANT.

book ; and this was an additional proof, if any
were needed, that he was not travelling in com-
pany with Sir Matthew Heseltine and the ladies.

Issuing forth from the Embassy again, I at
once took a hackney-vehicle and proceeded to the
hotel indicated in the book which I had been in-
specting. On arriving there, I addressed myself
to the porter, who, I found, understood French ;
and in response to my inquiry, he said, " Sir
Matthew Heseltine and the two ladies took their
departure this afternoon at four o'clock."

" Indeed !" I ejaculated, my heart smitten with
a feeling of bitter disappointment : for I had con-
fidently expected that in a few minutes I should
find myself in the presence of Annabel. " Whither
have they gone P" I mechanically asked.

" I really do not know," replied the porter :
"but if you particularly wish to learn, I can
doubtless ascertain from the proprietor of the
hotel."

The man accordingly hastened off to make the
inquiry : but in a few minutes he returned with the
intimation that the proprietor was out, and the
other persons belonging to the establishment who
could answer the query, were likewise temporarily
absent.

" It is of little consequence," I said, at the same
time thanking the man for his trouble : and to
myself I murmured, " They are gone— that is all
1 need care to know — and I am disappointed !"

"That English gentleman and the two ladies,"
observed the gate-porter, " passed several weeks at
this hotel a few months ago. In the interval they
have visited Eome and Naples ; and therefore
it is most probable they are going to extend their
tour to other parts of Italy. I am not sure, but
I think I heard something said by Sir Matthew
Heseltine's valet that they meditated an excursion
to Venice."

" And probably they may have gone in that
direction!" I exclaimed, sincerely hoping that such
was the fact, as in this case they would scarcely
incur any risk of encountering the formidable
Marco Uberti and his savage horde. '•' How
many servants had they with them ?" I asked.

" Two — a valet and a lady's-maid," replied the
porter ; " and they are journeying in their own
travelling-carriage."

'• Perhaps you can inform me," I said, after a
few moments' reflection, " whether they were
visited during their sojourn here by an English
gentleman of very peculiar appearance ?" — and
then I described Mr. Lanover.

"No such person visited them," rejoined the
porter, — " at least not to my knowledge : but as I
am not always here, I will ask my wife, who attends
to the gate when I am absent."

The woman had not seen any one answering to
Mr. Lanover's description; and having remu-
nerated the porter for his civility, I took my
departure in the hackney-vehicle. As I was re-
, turning to the hotel at the further extremity of
Florence, I marvelled more and more what business
, lanover could possibly have in hand ; and I could
not help being struck with the coincidence that I
should have seen Annabel, her mother, and her
grandfather on that very day which was the anni-
versai'y of the one when the instructions were
issued to me by the old Baronet, — a day, too, on
I which I had been so seriously reflecting on those

instructions from the moment of my an-akening in
the morning. On reaching the hotel, I sought ray
chamber : but it was a long time ere sleep would
visit my eyes— for I was haunted by all kinds of
misgivings in respect to the presence of the vile
humpback in the Tuscan capital simultaneously
with that of the Baronet and the ladies.

On the following day, shortly after breakfast, a
letter was given to me by one of the hotel-waiters
to take up to Captain Raymond's apartment ; and
I was informed that it had been just left by an
English livery- servant. As I was ascending the
stairs, I happened to glance at the address of that
letter; and I was instantaneously struck by the
han4-writing. It was unmistakably familiar to
me : but in order to convince myself that I was
really not labouring under the slightest delusion, I
sped to my own chamber before I delivered the
letter. There I compared the writing of the
address with that of the little scrap which I had
found in the room occupied by Lanover at the
chateau where Calanthe and our child died. Yes,
the writing was indeed the same — there could not
be the slightest doubt of it; and I re-read for
perhaps the thousandth time, the few lines which
were written on the fragment thus alluded to.
The reader will remember that they were as fol-
low:—

"very fortunate that you let me know whither you
were going previous to your leaving London. I there-
fore loae not a moment in writing to enjoin that nothing
more is to be done in re.-pect to Joseph. Should acci-
dent throw him in your way, I charge you to leave him
unraoUated. When next I see you, I will give such ei-
planatioQS as liili sa.isfy you that this resolution"

The letter which I held in my hand, was sealed
with armorial bearings, having a Peer's coronet :
but I was not sufficiently versed in heraldic de-
vices to know whose arras they were, nor what
was the degree of rank which the coronet indi-
cated. It however appeared to be tolerably cer-
tain that the writer of the communication to Mr.
Lanover — of which communication I had preserved
the scrap just referred to — was an English noble-
man. This surmise, amounting almost to a cer-
tainty, was a fresh source of bewildering conjec-
ture for me. Who could be the nobleman that
had any interest in making me the object of those
bitter persecutions which I had at one time en-
dured at the hands of Mr. Lanover, the vile in-
strument of that incomprehensible and most ran-
corous animosity ? Who, in a word, was the high-
born aristocrat that in the first instance had urged
on the miscreant humpback to take my life, and
then to ship me off to a far-distant colony ? Why
was there ever so strong a motive thus to deal
with me ? and why had that motive ceased to exist
at the%me of the writing of the letter of which
I had procured the fragment ? All these questions
were bewildering and perplexing enough ; and by
no possible conjecture could I answer them.

However, I hoped speedily to ascertain who the
nobleman was that I had so much reason to regard
as the author of the mysterious persecutions which
I have just alluded to. Composing my features, I
repaired to Captain Raymond's apartment, and
presented him the letter.

" Ah, from Lord Ecclcston," he observed in a
careless manner, as he glanced at the address,

JOSEPH WILMOT; OB, THE MKMOIES OF A MAX- SEBVANT.

65

tlie baudwriting of whicli was cviJentlj familiar
to him.

I could scarcely prevent a cry of amazement
from thrilling forth from my lips as this name
struck my ear. Lord Eccleston my persecutor ! —
but for what earthly reason? Many, many re-
miniscences flashed to my mind, — the anxiety of
Lord Eccleston when simple Mr. Mulgrave, to get
me into his service at the time I was first at
Delmar Manor — the strange and incomprehensible
looks which he and Lady Eccleston flung upon me
when, only about a year back, I had presented
them with the leaf from the Enfield register —
and subsequently the singular expressions to which
they had separately and individually given utter-
ance on the occasion of the fire when I saved her
ladyship's life. All these incidents swept through
my brain : but still they afforded not the slightest
clue to the comprehension of the motive which
61.

had rendered Lord Eccleston my persecutor
through the medium of the infamous Lanover.

Captain Raymond did not perceive that the
mention of Lord Eccleston's name had produced
any particular effect upon me : for his eyes were
fixed on the letter, which he opened and read.
Its contents were very brief, for they were speedily
perused ; and as I was about to leave the room,
Captain Kaymond said, " Stop a moment, Joseph.

I wiU write the answer to this letter at once •

it is merely an invitation to dinner ^and you

can take it to the hotel where Lord and Lady
Eccleston are residing."

While the Captain was penning the note, fresh
thoughts sprang up in my mind. Perhaps, after
all, Lanover's presence in the Tuscan capital at the
same time with Sir Matthew and the ladies was
a mere accidental coincidence ? — perhaps he in
reality harboured no scheme of mischief with re-

66

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OE, THE MEMOIES OP A MAN-SEBVANT.

gard to them ? — and perhaps he was in Florence
oa account of some private business with Lord
Eccleston ? But if so, was I the object of that
business ? had I been traced thither ? was I, for
reasons inscrutable to myself, again to become the
object of dark and malignant machinations ? Per-
plexity upon perplexity— bewilderment upon be-
wilderment !

Captain Eaymond gave me the note, and ex-
plained where the hotel was situated to which I
had to take it. Before I set out, I put in my
pocket the fragment of the letter to which allusion
has 80 frequently been made ; and as I proceeded
to the hotel where the Ecclestons were stopping,
I deliberately settled in my muid the course I
should pursue. On reaching the establishment, I
did not send up Captain Raymond's letter by one
of the domestics : but I requested an interview
with Lord Eccleston. I gave no name, for fear
that if I did, the audience might be refused ; I
merely despatched a message to the effect that
an Englishman requested five minutes' conversa-
tion with his lordship on very particular business.
The waiter who bore the message speedily re-
turned ; and I was conducted to an apartment
where I found Lord Eccleston— but her ladyship
was not there.

"What? you, Joseph!" ejaculated the noble-
man, in most unfeigned astonishment : and at the
same time methought an expression of uneasiness
flitted over his handsome countenance. " What
has brought you hither?" — and I saw that he
quickly surveyed my apparel, as if to judge there-
from the position in life which I at present occu-
pied : but if such were his object, he could thence
deduce nothing — for I wore plaia clothes, and
these were a simple suit of black.

" In the first place, my lord," I said, "I am the
bearer of this letter from Captain Eaymond."

" Ah ! then you are with Captain Eaymond ?"
said the nobleman. " In what capacity ?"

" As his servant, my lord," was my response :
and then I waited until he had glanced over the
contents of the note. " But it was not merely," I
resumed — and I spoke in a voice of cold firmness,
— " to deliver this letter that I sought an inter-
view with your lordship. I have explanations to
demand "

" Explanations ?" repeated Lord Eccleston; and
for a moment an unmistakable expression of un-
easiness swept over his countenance : but the next
instant assuming an off-hand, careless manner, he
said, " And what the deuce can you have to require
ftom my lips in the shape of explanations f"

He was lounging over the fire-place; and
though he affected to turn his eyes in a negligent
way towards the time-piece on the mantel, I could
nevertheless discern— for I watched him narrowly
—that he flung a furtive uneasy glance towards
me.

" I believe your lordship," I resumed, " is no
fitranger to a man beai-ing the name of Lan-
over ? "

I was convinced at the moment that the noble-
man turned pale as I mentioned this name, and
that he likewise darted another keen scrutinizing
look at my countenance : but still he affected a
calm indifference of manner as he said, " Lanover P
Lanover ? Yes — I have certainly heard the name
before Ah ! by the bye, it is that of your

uncle ! I recollect! — he was the person who took
you away with him some few years ago from
Delmar Manor !"

" As for his being my uncle, my lord, I have
never felt completely sure on that point; and

from all I know of him from all perhaps that

you know of him likewise," I added, looking sig-
nificantly in Lord Eccleston's face, " I can be but
little flattered by the idea that such a man is in
reality a relation."

" I don't imderstand you," said the nobleman,
now assuming a haughty demeanour ; but beneath
it there was still a visible uneasiness ; and I knew
perfectly well that if I were not upon the right
track he would ere this have ordered me from his
presence.

" In a very few words, my lord," I resumed, " I
will give you to imderstand that accident has this
day made me aware of the fact that to you must I
ascribe the bitter, bitter persecutions which I have
experienced at the hands of Mr. Lanover."

" What do you mean ? — wiU you explain your-
self yet more fully ?" exclaimed Eccleston, survey-
ing me with dark suspicion and uneasiness. " If
I bear with you, it is because I cannot forget that
a year ago you saved her ladyship's life : and
besides, you have made such serious accusations
that in justice to myself I must disabuse you of
that extraordinary delusion imder which you
labour."

"It is no delusion, my lord," was my firm
.response. "How can there be any misunder-
standing on the subject, when it is positively
known to me that your lor.Hship wrote to Mr.
Lanover, commanding that I should thenceforth
remain unmolested. The author of the perse-
cutions previously carried on against me, could
alone decree their cessation. It was you, vay lord,
who so decreed — yov, therefore whom I must look
upon as the instigator of atrocities from which
even an intended murder \wis not excepted !
Yes, my lord, your countenance has all along
strengthened my suspicions — your look now con-
firms them !"

The nobleman's features did indeed corroborate
what I said : for there were trouble, uneasiness,
apprehension, and suspense mingled in the ex-
pression which they assumed. The colour too went
and came upon his cheeks ; and his regards, which
at first were fixed intently and piercingly upon me,
sank beneath my own.

" I really don't understand you, Joseph !" he
abruptly exclaimed. "' You say that this morning
an accident revealed something to you "

"Do vou know that handwriting, my lord?" I
interrupted him : and I produced the fragment of
the letter.

Eccleston now became pale as death : his ashy
lips quivered — and his hands trembled visibly.

" Once more your lordship's looks betray you !"
I said. "The moment I beheld the handwriting
of the letter which you sent to Captain Eaymond,
I was enabled to identify it with this."

"Ah! you have no better reason than ttai^ for
making the accusation against me ?" he said, his
looks in a moment visibly brightening up : for my
remark was indeed tantamount to a revelation that
the writer of the letter to which the fragment
originally belouiTed, had remained unknown to me
until this day. "And because there is some Utile

JOSEPH WIXilOT; OE, THE ITEMOIES OF A MAN-SEEVANT.

67

similitude between one handwriting and another,"
he continued, with more effrontery than he had as
yet displayed throughout the interview, " you all
in a moment jump to the conclusion that 1 have
been instrumental in working you a mischief — and
that I have corresponded with your uncle ? It is
really too preposterous !" — and with an air of in-
dignation he tossed the fragment into the fire.

'• You would not have done that, my lord," I
said, speaking angrily, " if your conscience did not
reproach you with the guilt of all that I have ad-
vanced ! Perhaps you will pretend to be ignorant
that your worthy acolyte Mr. Lanover is in Flo-
rence—or at least was yesterday ?"

" Lanover in Florence ?" ejaculated Eccleston,
with a surprise apparently so sincere that I was
staggered what to think. "On my soul I knew it
not ! — and to me," he added, in a careless manner,
" it is an affair of the utmost indifference ; for I
tell you that I know nothing of your uncle beyond
that interview with him at Delmar Manor when
he came to claim you."

'•' Well, my lord," I said, " if you persevere in
these denials I certainly have no means of com-
pelling you to confess your past injustice towards
me, nor to explain the motive. But perhaps the
day may come when you will be sorry for having
persecuted one who never could have possibly done
you any harm. Ah, my lord ! if for some inscruta-
ble reason you intend to renew those persecutions,
and if you have come with Lanover to Florence
for that purpose, I must bid you beware : for the
motive which formerly induced me to spare that
man, has ceased to exist — and I vow most solemnly
that if he dare practise his machinations against
me henceforth, I will invoke the protection of the
law of this country, or of any other in which I
may find myself at the time."

" Again I tell you, Joseph," replied Lord Ec-
cleston, •' that I bear patiently with you because I
owe you a debt of gratitude for the salvation of
her ladyship's life : but by the mode in which you
are addressing me, you are passing all bounds of
decency — and if 1 condescend once more to give
you the most solemn and sacred assurance that I
meditate no harm towards you, and that I was
perfectly ignorant of Mr. Lanover's presence in
this city "

" Enough, my lord !" I interrupted him :
"nothing can efface the suspicion — nay, the con-
viction,— from my mind that the fragment which
you have just burnt belonged to a letter written
by your hand; and therefore henceforth I must
judge you by your actions, and not by your
words."

I then bowed slightly and distantly: and was
turning towards the door — when it opened, and
Lady Eccleston made her appearance. She was
dressed in an elegant morning- wrapper ; and her
beauty was of that rich commanding splendour
which I described when narrating the incident of
my visit to the house in Manchester Square on the
occasion that I called to place in his lordship's
hands the leaf of the Enfield register. Her lady-
ship started on beholding me— at the same time
bending upon my countenance a look which had
the same peculiarity that I had noticed on the
occasion just referred to — a look in which it was
impossible to comprehend whether there were an
expression of xmeasiness, annoyance, or any other

feeling. But as if suddenly recollecting herself,
she gave me her hand, saying in a soft voice, which
was likewise tremulous with some strong emotion,
" I never had an opportunity of thanking you for
your brave — your generous — your noble conduct in
saving me from the ^re !"

" If your ladyship considers the service deserv-
ing of the slightest gratitude," I answered, firmly
but respectfully, " the best manner in which you
can show it, is by inducing Lord Eccleston to per-
secute me no more "

But I stopped short ; for her ladyship turned
pale as death, and staggered as if about to fall.
Mechanically I hastened to support her ; and as
she clung to me, she burst into tears, — exclaiming,
" No, no, Joseph — fear nothing ! fear nothing !
Did you not save my life ? My God ! it was you
— 7/oti. Joseph, who were my deliverer then !"

Some such words as these she had uttered on the
occasion referred to ; and now she repeated them.
They seemed strange indeed to my ears; and for
an instant I knew not what sort of feeling it was
which possessed me as I sustained her in my
arms.

" "\Therefore do you address me thus ?" I ex-
claimed. " Is it because your ladyship is no
stranger to the bitter persecutions I have endured
from your husband through the medium of the
miscreant Lanover ? — and does your conscience
reproach you when you reflect that I — the perse-
cuted but the unoffending — was ordained by
heaven to oecome the saviour of your life ?"

Lady Eccleston was weeping bitterly ; she was
as pale as death ; and she fixed upon me a look so
fuU of a profound agony — so woe-begone — and yet
with some still softer feeling blending with it, that
I knew not what to think. It appeared as if my
brain were whirling, and that I was in the midst
of a dream. And during the minute or two that
this portion of the scene lasted, I was continuing
to sustain her in my arms : for she clung to me in
such a way that I felt she would fall if I let her

go-

" Clara !" said a deep voice speaking close be-
hind me : and startled by the peculiar accent — as
if an accent of warning, and solemnly adjuring her
to beware — in which her name was thus spoken, I
glanced quickly over my shoulder. Lord Eccleston
was close behind me, — his countenance more
ghastly pale than even that of his wife, and his
looks full of a species of awful terror. When her
name was thus thrown at her as it were in so
warning a manner, she all of a sudden recovered
her self-possession ; and abruptly disengaging her-
self from my arms, she retreated a pace or two —
exchanging with her husband looks that were
doubtless significant enough for themselves, but
utterly incomprehensible for me.

I knew not whether to withdraw, or to remain
and see whether they had anything more to say to
me. There was within my soul the secret pre-
sentiment that her ladyship longed to say some-
thing— but yet for the life of me I could not con-
jecture what. Evident enough was it that she
stood in more or less terror of her husband, and
that she had unwittingly betrayed feelings the
flow of which he had suddenly checked by breath-
ing her name in a manner that was almost equi-
valent to the warning adjuration of the word
" Beware !" The suspicion floated vaguely in mj

68

JOSEPH WILMOX; OE, THE MEMOIRS OP A MAK-SERVAIfT.

braia that though she was fully acquainted with
all he had done towards me through the instru-
mentality of Lanover, yet her soul abhorred his
conduct; and that a better feeling than he was
capable of experiencing, prompted her to make me
some amends. Methought too that there was in
her demeanour a certain degree of kindness which
longed to find vent in expressions of even a more
marked and decisive character than those to which
she had given utterance when, weeping and half-
sinking, she was a few moments back sustained in
my arms.

" Go, Joseph !" said Lord Eccleston, in a tre-
mulous voice: "and fear nothing! — for I take God
to witness that I will not harm a hair of your
head !"

Unscrupulous and black-hearted as I believed
the nobleman to be, there appeared nevertheless so
unmistakable a sincerity in this assurance, that I
could scarcely fancy human hypocrisy capable of
an equivalent amount of stupendous dissimulation.
I therefore said, "I believe you, my lord; and
deeply do I hope that heaven has moved your
heart towards one who never wilfully or knowingly
injured you !"

Lady Eccleston turned abruptly aside while I
was thus speaking: but a sob which was only
partially stifled, floated upon my ear ; and I felt
strangely moved towards that woman who evi-
dently was not altogether unmoved towards my.
self. Then I hurried from the room ; and as I
retraced my way towards the hotel, I reflected in
a strange mood of mingled sadness and perplexity,
on the varied incidents of the scene which had just
taken place.

CHAPTER XCI.

THE, TWO APPOINTMENTS.

As I entered the street in which the hotel was
situated, I encountered that Italian gentleman
whom I had seen on the previous day in the gal-
lery at the ducal palace. He accosted me with an
arch smile, — exclaiming, " Well, Signer English-
man, is your mind still occupied with the image
of your beautiful countrywoman ? Ah ! by that
tell-tale blush I am certain that it is so ! — and in
good sooth you exhibit the most excellent taste.
Step with me into this colTee-house : we will take
a cup of chocolate and have a little discourse to-
gether."

I gladly accepted the worthy Italian's invita-
tion : for I felt singularly dispirited by my inter-
view with the Ecclestons, and I longed for any-
thing that would divert my thoughts into another
channel. We entered the cofiee-house — or rather
cafe: for it was one of those splendid establish-
ments which of that kind are only to be found
upon the Continent, and which are superlatively
dishonoured and degraded in being represented by
the English term which I have used. Seating
ourselves at one of the little tables, we were
speedily furnished with the refreshments called
for ; and the Italian, evidently taking me for a
gentleman in his own position of life, treated me
as a friend and as an equal.

" I know you were so deeply smitten with that

young lady's charms," he said, " that I do verily
believe you heard not a syllable of the anecdote I
related in respect to the Marquis of Cassano."

" Frankly speaking," I replied, " my attention
was so much engaged with the splendid scene be-
fore me, that I must plead guilty to the discourtesy
with which you have charged me."

" Oh ! do not accuse yourself of discourtesy,"
he exclaimed : " because your inattention was
natural enough — bewildered as your mind was
with the beauty which had ravished you. But
really if you did not hear my story concerning the
Marquis of Cassano, it is worth while for me to
repeat it and for you to listen to it."

"And by my attention," I smilingly answered,
" my neglect of yesterday shall be amply atoned
for."

" Good !" ejaculated the Italian, who was a kind-
tempered man. " I told you that the Marquis of
Cassano is the Grand Duke's nephew ; and he occu-
pied the exalted post of Minister of the Interior —
or, as you would say in your country. Secretary of
State for the Home Department. Rumours were
rife that he was secretly fomenting an armed in-
surrection in an ultra-liberal sense: but nobody
precisely knew whether to believe them or not.
There was to be a grand reception; and it was
whispered that something serious was likely to
take place — but in respect of what its nature
might be, opinions were likewise divided. Indeed,
all was doubt and uncertainty — speculation and
conjecture. I was present in the gallery at that re-
ception ; and it was even a more brilliant display
than the one you beheld yesterday. All the Minis-
ters were in attendance, as usual : and amongst
them, as a matter of course, the Marquis of Cas-
sano. Before the main ceremony commenced —
and when the hall was crowded with a far more
numerous assemblage than ' you witnessed yester-
day— the Duke rose from his throne ; and making
a sign to the Marquis of Cassano to stand forward,
he addressed him in these terras : — ' Graceless and
unworthy kinsman of mine that you are ! your
secret machinations are known to me ; everything
has been betrayed by one of your guilty accom-
plices ; and were it not that the same blood whicli
rolls in my veins fl.ow3 likewise in your's, your lifo
should pay the penalties due to your treason. But
wickedness and ingratitude so great as your's,
cannot go altogether unpunished. Here, then, in
the presence of those who have assembled to dis-
play their loyalty towards their Sovereign, do I
proclaim your degradation and disgrace. A decree
is already drawn up appointing your successor \h.
the Ministry of the Interior : another decree divests
you of your titles and your rank, and confiscates
your property. Depart ! and carry with you into
an eternal exile the bitter remorse whicli cannot
fail to be the result of your crimes !' — Thus spoke
the Grand Duke; and you may conceive, Signor
Englishman, the profound sensation produced by
the words of his Eoyal Highness."

" And the Marquis of Cassano," I said, — " how
bore he his degradation ? Did he throw himself
at his uncle's feet "

"Nothing of the sort," answered my Italian
friend. " He drew himself up with an air of the
loftiest indignation — folded his arms across his
chest — and was about to speak, when the Grand
Duke made a sign — the guards seized upon him,

JOSEPH WILMOT; OB, THE MEMOIES OF A MAN-SEKVANT,

69

and hurried him avray. But full certain am I,"
added the Italian, his voice sinking to a low whis-
per, " that the Marquis was followed by the sym-
pathies of the great majority of the assemblage —
and I know that he possessed mine."

" And what was the result of this extraordinary
proceeding ?" I inquired.

"The Marquis disappeared altogether," re-
sponded the Italian; "but it soon became known
that when arrested in the way I have described, he
■was thrust into a post-chaise that was in readiness,
and was hurried across the frontier, through the
neighbouring States, and thus into the Austrian
dominions, where he was consigned to a dungeon
in some gloomy fortress. You must not be as-
tonished that such was his fate : for you are
doubtless aware that our Grand Duke belongs to
the Austrian Imperial family ; and the Government
of Vienna sympathises with, and is ever ready to
abet, all the tyrannical proceedings of the Tuscan
Sovereign."

" And do you believe," I asked, " that the Mar-
quis of Cassano in reality contemplated an in-
surrection— or that it was a plot to get rid of
him ?"

"I have no doubt he meditated a rebellion,"
replied my companion ; and again lowering his
voice, he said, "So much the better if he had
succeeded ! We groan under the ducal despotism
— the weight of taxation — and all kinds of petty
tyrannies. However, the unfortunate Marquis is
languishing iu an Austrian dungeon; and the
people have lost their idol— for such he assuredly
was."

" Your Grand Duke," I observed, " appears to
be in some respects a strange character for a
Sovereign. I have been told that on two occasions
he has suffered the notorious bandit of the Etrus-
oi-.a Apennines to escape from a doom which he
most, righteousiy deserved."

" Ah ! but have you likewise been told where-
fore the Grand Duke has dealt thus leniently — or
rather thus timidly with Marco Uberti ? I can
tell you all about it," continued my Italian friend :
"for I have received my information from an
acquaintance ot mine, who occupies a high post in
the ducal palace, and from whom I obtain the
cards of admission to the gallery on reception-
days. The truth is, Marco Uberti took away with
him — when he fled from Florence a number of
years ago — a packet of secret documents, being
nothing less than a correspondence from the
Austrian Emperor in respect to the occupation of
Tuscany with the Imperial troops. If these docu-
ments were published, there would be an imme-
diate rebellion throughout the Duchy; and this
the Duke knows well. Now you comprehend how
it is that Marco Uberti possesses in that corre-
spondence the talisman of his own safety, and
why the Grand Duke dared not suffer justice to
proceed to extremes. But I can tell you more !"
proceeded my communicative friend. " On the
first occasion when Marco was captured, he bar-
gained that if his life were spared he would restore
the documents; and the Duke trusted to his
honour. The honour of a notorious bandit !— the
good faith of an unscrupulous plunderer ! — only
conceive such an idea !"

" It does indeed seem preposterous," I observed.
" But on the second occasion how came the Duke

to suffer himself to be again deluded by the pro-
mises of the false brigand ?"

" It appears that Marco Uberti," rejoined the
Italian, " did surrender up a packet of documents
on condition of his life being spared and liberty
being afforded him : but the papers turned out to
be only skilfully executed copies — and thus he re-
tains the originals, to the infinite terror and annoy-
ance of the ducal family. It is rumoured — but on
this point I cannot speak with any degree of
accuracy — that the Grand Duke has on several
occasions said to those immediately about his per-
son, that there is no boon which he would not
grant to the individual who might obtain for him
those important documents from the hands of
Marco Uberti."

In this manner toy Italian friend and I chatted
together for upwards of an hour; and when we
separated, I retraced my steps to the hotel. In
the afternoon a note was put into my hand by one
of the domestics of the establishment, — who in-
formed me that the messenger that brought it had
immediately departed again. It was addressed to
me in a beautiful English female hand; and for
nearly a minute I hesitated to open it, lest its ob-
ject might have the tendency to beguile me away
from my fidelity towards Annabel ; — and with the
bitter experience of Calanthe's fatal love, I was
solemnly resolved never again to yield to such
temptation. However, after some little reflection,
I thought there would at least be no harm in
opening the billet ; and I found its contents to run
as follow :—

•• November 16, 18tl. »
"You are earnestly coDjared to meet me at nine
o'clock this eveniiig on the bridge of Santa Trinitata,
Fail not, I beseech you ! You will have sn opportunity,
as Captain Raymond dines at this hotel. I need not
observe that the strictest secrecy must be maintained.
"CLABA ECCLE8T0N."

Not for a moment did I hesitate about keeping
this appointment. I knew perfectly well that her
ladyship had not conceived towards me any feeling
to which I might not respond : or at least I was
morally certain in my own mind that such was the
case. Methought that probably she purposed to
enlighten me in respect to those mysteries which
had so bewildered and perplexed my imagination ;
and I was naturally inspired by an earnest and
solemn curiosity to learn wherefore I had been the
object of those persecutions which this lady's hus-
band had assuredly instituted against me. The
interval between the receipt of this note and the
hour specified for the appointment was passed in
restless uncertainty and bewildering conjecture as
to what the real object of it could be. And then,
too, I at first wondered how her ladyship would be
enabled to keep the appointment : for I knew that
Captain Raymond was invited to dine with Lord
Eccleston. But my doubt on this point was pre-
sently cleared up : for I heard from Lord Ring-
wold's valet that his lordship was likewise going to
dine with Eccleston — but not the ladies; for it was
a bachelors' party which the entertainer intended
to give — not at the hotel where he was sojourning
— but at a famous restaurant in another part of
the town. I therefore now understood how Lady
Eccleston's time would be at her own disposal :
but I was still left to the feverish anxiety of con-

70

JOSEPH WILMOT; OE, XHB MEilOIES OF A ilAN-SEHVANX.

jecture aa to what the purpose of the appointment
might be.

It wanted twenty minutes to nine o'clock when
I entered upon the bridge where I was to meet
her ladyship ; and I walked slowly to and fro, still
giving way to my reflections! The night was
dark and cold : a mist, hanging over the broad ex-
panse of the Arno, threatened to deepen into one
of those fogs which sometimes enshroud the fair
city of Florence ; and I was apprehensive that her
ladyship might not keep the appointment. But
scarcely had a neighboui-ing clock begun to pro.
claim the hour of nine, when I was accosted by
a female form muffled in a cloak, and wearing a
dark veil over her countenance.

" You are punctual," she said : and though her
voice was low and tremulous, and was partially
clouded too by the thickness of the veil as well as
by the evident agitation of her feelings, I recog-
nised it to be that of Lady Eccleston. " Let us
walk this way," she added : " give me your arm —
and we shall be enabled in a few minutes to con-
verse more at our ease."

We proceeded to a somewhat secluded spot on
the bank of the Arno ; and there her ladyship,
relaxing her pace, said to me, " Tou are doubtless
surprised to receive such a communication as the
one I sent you ?"

" Not altogether surprised," I answered : " for
it struck me during the singular and painful in-
terview of the morning that you had something to
say to me, but dared not give utterance to it in
the presence of his lordship."

" Ah ! you penetrated my thoughts thus far ?"
exclaimed Lady Eccleston. " But tell me, Joseph
— what were your reflections after that scene to
which you have alluded ?"

'•' His lordship," I said, " denied that he was the
author — or rather the instigator of the persecu-
tions which I have endured at the hands of the
miscreant Lanover : but every word he uttered —
every varying expression of his countenance — in
short, the entire scene convinced me that both his
lordship and your ladyship are only too well ac-
quainted with what I have undergone."

Lady Eccleston gave no answer : she remained
silent for upwards of a minute ; and as she
proffered no denial of what I had just said, my
suspicion was confirmed in respect to what I had
advanced. Moreover, I felt her hand tremble as
it rested on my arm ; and methought my ear
caught the sound of a very low and nearly stifled
sob from behind the thick covering of the veU.

" If your ladyship purposes to make an atone-
ment for the past," I said, at length breaking this
silence which kept me on the tenter-hooks of sus-
pense, " for heaven's sake prove your good feeling
by telling me wherefore I incurred the bitter ran-
cour of your husband, so that he even sought my
life!"

A groan of anguish — low, deep, but unmis-
takable— came from the lips of Lady Eccleston ;
and she trembled so violently that I feared for a
moment she would have fallen ; but evidently re-
covering somewhat of her fortitude the next
instant, she said, — though still speaking in a quick,
agitated voice, — " No, no ! you must not question
me. It was not for this purpose that I gave you
the present appointment."

" Then for heaven's sake keep me not in sus-

pense !" I exclaimed. " You have some deep and
solemn meaning — it was for no light nor frivolous
purpose that you bade me meet you "

" No, God forbid !" she ejaculated. " Listen,
Joseph !" — but as she went on to speak, it was
still in an agitated manner, and in a voice fre-
quently broken, as if her ideas were confused and
she knew not precisely what to say. " You were
a great favourite with my poor father," — and here
I felt that she shuddered, as methought well she
might at the recollection of his tragic end, — "and
I know that if he had lived he never would have
suffered you to be cast abroad upon the world.
My husband did vrrong at the time to abandon
you to Mr. Lanover : he should have provided for
you — he should have acted in the spirit of my
father's intentions, even though those intentions
were not formally expressed in any document he
left behind him. I have more than once spoken

to my husband about you 1 have begged him

to do something for you. At the time you called
upon us in London to place in our hands the
abstracted leaf of the Enfield register, — on that
occasion I spoke to him most seriously after you
were gone. Then again, when you so gallantly
rescued me from a dreadful death, I earnestly con-
jured that he would seek you out and provide for
you in a manner that should raise you to inde-
pendence. For did I not owe you my life? and
was it not natural that I should think of your
welfare? And again this morning I reasoned
with his lordship — Oh, long and entreatingly I
reasoned! — but I regret to say with no better
result than on the former occasions. And now
therefore it remains for me to testify my grati-
tude to the saviour of my life — and that is the
reason I penned the note which gave you this
appointment."

" Your ladyship testifies kind feelings towards
me," I answered; "and I am deeply moved by
them. But yet permit me to observe in all frank-
ness, that there is within my mind a suspicion —
though vague and indistinct — that your ladyship
is not altogether sincerely explaining the motives
of your conduct."

" Not sincere, Joseph ?" she said, in a low tone,
but which was full of gentle reproach.

"■ I will teU you what I mean," I responded.
" You put the matter to me as if you were de-
sirous to impress upon my mind that it is for your
late father's sake, and likewise through a feeling
of gratitude on your own part, that you wish to
serve me : whereas my experience of the past
whispers in my ear that you are really desirous to
atone for deep wrongs which have been inflicted
upon me. Oh, I beseech you to be candid ! — I
implore you to deal frankly with me ! Tell me —
tell me, wherefore was I persecuted ? what mo-
tives existed some time back for that persecution ?
and why do they exist no longer ? How could I,
when a mere boy — obscure, humble, and friendless,
— how could I, Lady Eccleston, I ask, have been
an object of such terrible and fearful interest that
it was sought to get rid of me ?"

" You must not — indeed you must not question
me on these subjects !" answered her ladyship,
now violently agitated. " But listen to me, Joseph !
We are rich — and I have the command of sufii.
cient funds to be enabled to spare what will be a
liandsome income for you without his lordship

JOSEVH WHMOT ; OH, THE MEMOIKS OF A MAK-SERVANT.

71

knowing it. I beseech you to follow the advice I
am about to give— or I will put it as a prayer and
entreat you to grant it ! Leave Captain Ray-
mond's service at once— go forth into the world
as a gentleman— and regularly every six months
I will pay two hundred pounds into the hands of
a London banker, so that it may be receivable by
you and to your order in whatsoever part of the
world you may be."

"Lady Eccleston," I said, "you must be sen-
sible of deep, deep wrongs towards me to make
such an offer as this. I know not how to answer
you. In the face of what appears to be a gene-
rous atonement, I dare not use harsh or severe
terms : and yet you must be well aware that I
cannot feel otherwise than a profound and solemn
curiosity "

" And that curiosity cannot be gratified,
Joseph !" interrupted her ladyship emphatically.
" I beseech you to be ruled by me. I can give no
explanations beyond what I have already said. If
you will persist in believing that there has been
past rancour, enmity, or hate — at least ought you
to have faith in present friendship. It is friend-
ship that I proffer you : let me be your friend —
and you will make me happy, while you are con-
ducing to your own welfare."

" Lady Eccleston." I responded, " there are
many considerations which weigh with me now.
For instance, you spoke of certain wishes or in-
tentions on the part of your deceased father : — am
I to suppose that in his noble generosity he be-
queathed me money, which your husband kept
back — and that for fear I should discover the de-
ception practised towards me, he originated all
those persecutions which first aimed at my life,
and afterwards at my liberty ?"

" I take heaven to witness, Joseph," exclaimed
Lady Eccleston, " that you are utterly and com-
pletely mistaken ! Remember, my poor father "

and here again she shuddered perceptibly— " had
only known you for a few weeks "

"True!" I ejaculated: "and therefore tJiaf can-
not be the reason of your present conduct. How-
ever," I abruptly added, " I am so bewildered that
I know not how to address you ! I am at a loss
whether to thank you for what you have been say-
ing at the present time— or whether to insist with
sternness that you should deal explicitly in re-
spect to the past. If it were Lord instead of Lady
Eccleston who had given me this appointment,
and who was speaking to me in these terms, I
should demand the fullest explanations."

" But with me, Joseph," said her ladyship, in a
soft and persuasive tone, "you will act other-
wise ?"

" 2f o, my lady," I exclaimed : " my mind is
suddenly made up ! Tell me everything— or I
accept nothing. Let me know the full nature,
the reason, and the motives of the wrongs to be
atoned for— or I cannot consent to receive the
atonement. I will not go groping my way through
the world in the dark, as the pensioner of your
bounty : the gold I should thus accept from you,
would never do me any good— I should enjoy
nothing that it purchased ! I would rather eat a
crust earned by my own industry in the broad
light of day, than live upon luxuries purchased by
gold given to me for reasons so mysterious and
for motives so ambiguous."

" I did not think I should find you thus dif-
ficult to deal with," said her ladyship, in a voice
of the mournfullest reproach : " but for heaven's
sake alter your decision ! I dare not remain with
you many minutes longer. Nothing but the
urgency of the present business could have in-
duced me to run such a risk of compromising
myself, by stealing forth in this disguise from the
hotel. And the worst of it is, I was compelled to
let my own maid so far into the secret that she
knows I have thus stolen out — though I told her
not for what object. My very reputation is now
in her hands : she will of course put the worst
possible construction on my proceeding — and I
dare not say a syllable to justify myself by en-
lightening her. How do I know that she will
keep my secret ? — and if she whisper a word of
betrayal to Lord Eccleston, what can he possibly
think ? You see therefore, Joseph, the tremendous
perils I am incurring — the dangers I am encoun-
tering— the sacrifices I am making and aU for

your sake ! Do not— do not, I entreat you, let
me have done so much in vain !"

Lady Eccleston spoke with rapid and excited
utterance; and I felt that I was yielding: but
when she had finished, my resolve became fixed
again ; and I said, " All the arguments your lady-
ship has adopted to move me, constitute another
convincing proof that you must be sensible of deep
wrongs towards me — or else you would not incur
such risks in the endeavour to make me an atone-
ment. In a word, therefore, until everything be
explained I will accept nothing at your hands !"

" Oh, this is cruel— most cruel !" she cried, with
impassioned vehemence. " But your mind is not
altogether made up ? Reflect upon what I have
said — take time to consider of it — and by some
means or another, at any risk and at any peril, I
will meet you at this spot again at nine o'clock
to-morrow evening."

" No, Lady Eccleston !" I ejaculated : " whatso-
ever you may have done towards me, I cannot
allow you to endanger your reputation "

" Oh, but you endangered your very life on my
account !" she vehemently interrupted me, thus
alluding to the conflagration in Manchester Square ;
" and it is my duty to do as much — or even more
for you. To-morrow evening — here, upon this
spot !" — and with these words her ladyship hurried
away, quickly disappearing from my view in the
surrounding obscurity, and leaving me half stupi-
fied by the suddenness of the proceeding.

As I slowly retraced my way to the hotel, I
reflected on all that had taken place : but there is
no need to chronicle my thoughts in detail — for
they were such as were naturally inspired by a
review of the colloquy that had so abruptly
terminated.

Throughout the following day I found it im-
possible to make up my mind as to whether I
would keep the second appointment or not, — until
the hour was close at hand, when I decided in the
affirmative. For I thought to myself that if I
strenuously urged Lady Eccleston to enter into
the fullest explanations with regard to the past —
if I promised the completest forgiveness as well
as the most inviolable secrecy— she could scarcely
persist in refusing to yield to my demand.

" Besides," I reasoned to myself, " she is evi-
dently so bent on making me an atonement, that

^OSEPH WILMOT ; OB, THE MEMOIfiS OP A MAN-SKttVANX.

if I persevere in insisting upon previous explana-
tions, she will rather give them than resign herself
to the alternative of abandoning an aim which the
qualms of conscience and the awakening of better
feelings have evidently suggested."

"While thus meditating upon my mode of pro-
cedure, and on the results which I expected it to
produce, I reached that secluded spot on the bank
of the Arno which was the place for this second
appointment. The evening was darker and more
gloomy with mist than the preceding one : it was
exceedingly cold too — and my overcoat was but-
toned across my chest. When I reached the spot,
I was not kept many minutes waiting : for from
the surrounding darkness a cloaked and veiled
figure speedily emerged — and a voice which I im-
mediately recognised, ejaculated, " Thank heaven,
you have come !"

" Yes, my lady," was my answer : " I have come
— but only to repeat "

"Joseph, we have not a minute to waste in
argument !" interrupted her ladyship, with pas-
sionate vehemence. " My husband has not gone
out this evening— he has a friend with him — but
if he should happen to seek me in my own cham-
ber, to which on some pretext I retired — if he
should thus be led to miss me, I say, oh ! I shall
be lost. I dare not tell him what I am doing with
you "

"I entreated your ladyship not to incur this
risk," I exclaimed ; " and you will have incurred
it uselessly, unless you give the fullest explana-
tions."

"You will not treat me thus cruelly?" im-
plored Lady Eccleston, in accents which touched
me to the very heart. " I have brought you money,
Joseph — you must take it — you must leave
Florence to-morrow "

"Am I in any danger?" I demanded, as a
sudden thought struck nie. " Are those persecu-
tions "

"To be renewed? Oh, no! no!" ejaculated
her ladyship. " As there is a heaven above us,
you have naught to fear on that score for the
future !"

" Then, Lady Eccleston," I at once rejoined —
and I believe there was even menacing fierceness
in my tone, — "you have just confessed that your
husband and yourself toere the instigators "

" Oh, deal not harshly with me !" she exclaimed
in a tone of wild and anguished entreaty : " do
not catch up any inadvertent syllable that may
fall from my lips ! You know not what you make
me suffer — or you would pity me ! — yes, you would
pity me ! Good heavens, the time is flying — the

peril I incur is dreadful Oh ! will you not be

guided by my advice, Joseph ? — will you not
yield ?"

" No, no !" I emphatically answered : " not as
matters now stand between us !"

"Then you will drive me to despair!" — and it
was in despairing accents that she spoke. "I
pray and beseech you," she continued, her voice
becoming low, deep, and earnest, " that you will
not continue thus cruelly obstinate ! There is but
one way of making me happy — there is but one
method of restoring to my soul a small portion of
that peace which it has lost ! Will you — will you
grant my request ?"

She laid both her hands upon my arms as she

thus spoke : she had thrown back her veil a few
instants previously— and despite the gloom of the
evening, I could behold her countenance plainly.
It was of death-like pallor— but the trouble, the
suspense, and the anxious terror that it expressed,
constituted a spectacle which filled me with com-
passion and sympathy. Indeed, I can scarcely
explain the feelings which then had possession of
my soul — filling my heart with the strangest
emotions, and agitating me throughout every
nerve and fibre, to the uttermost confines of my
very being! She spoke not another word — but
continued to gaze up at me with that beseeching
look ; — and I do believe that in less than another
minute I should have promised to be guided by
her in everything, — when all in a moment a tall
form emerged from the darkness; and striding
close up to us, exclaimed, " Vile woman, I have
caught thee, then ! And you, the author of my
dishonour "

A low, half-suppressed shriek issued from the
lips of Lady Eccleston : while Lord Eccleston— for
it was he — stopped suddenly short on recognising
my countenance. There was a deep silence for
nearly a minute, — during which her ladyship stood
gasping for breath — I with my arms folded, await-
ing whatsoever might next take place — and Lord
Eccleston a prey to the utmost agitation.

" What have you told him, Clara ?" he at length
asked, in a low deep voice as he turned towards his
wife.

" Nothing ! nothing !" she responded with a sort
of nervous vehemence.

Eccleston gave a long sigh expressive of relief ;
and then he said, " But what has passed between
you ? wherefore on this second occasion have you
stolen from the hotel to meet the young man?"

"I will tell you — and tell you frankly," re-
sponded her ladyship, still labouring under that
excitement which displayed itself in the nervous
quickness of her utterance. " I have offered to do
that for him which on several previous occasions I
had requested you to do "

" And he has accepted your offer ?" said the
nobleman hastily.

"No — he has refused it !" was the response.

" Refused it ! And wherefore, Joseph, have you
refused it ?" inquired Lord Eccleston, now turning
towards me.

"Because," I responded coldly — for all the feel-
ings which had so much moved me a few minutes
back, had subsided, — " because I will consent to
nothing until I know everything ! My lord, there
are fearful mysteries which you and her ladyship
can explain, and which evidently have the closest
reference to myself. Explaui them therefore ! —
it is your duty ! Conscience has already begun to
perform its work : it has touched the heart of her
ladyship — it will sooner or later touch yours "

"Joseph," interrupted the nobleman, "this scene
cannot last a minute longer ! Do you, or do you
not accept the proposition which her ladyship has
made to you?"

" No, my lord — not under existing circumstances.
I have experienced wrongs of which I have been
too painfully conscious: but I cannot possibly
fathom the motive for which those wrongs were
inflicted. Therefore explanation must precede
atonement ; and ten thousand times rather would
I receive that explanation than any atonement

JOSEPH WILMOT; OE, THE MEMOIES OF A MAN-SERVANT.

73

which savours of a bribo on the pavt of those who
proffer it, and brands with grovelling selfishness
the one who under such circumstances would re-
ceive it."

" Clara, come with me immediately !" said Lord
Eecleston : and compelling his wife to take his
arm, he hastened her abruptly away — but not be-
fore I caught the look of mingled anguish and
reproach which her pale countenance threw upon
me at parting.

On the following day I accidentally learnt, from
something which I overheard Captain Raymond
say to Lord Elngwold, that the Ecclestons had
abruptly taken their departure from Florence ; and
it was alleged that some pressing business called
them elsewhere.

62.

CHAPTER XCII.

THE HOTEL AT PI9T0JA.

It was in the afternoon of this same day on which
I learnt. the departure of the Ecclestons, that as I
was walking through the streets, I met the friendly
Italian gentleman to whom I have already so fre-
quently alluded. We got into conversation toge-
ther ; and after some little discourse, he said, "Ah!
now I bethink me, the last time we met we were
talking of that redoubtable bandit Marco Uberti :
and within the last hour I have heard of a new
exploit of his."

" And what may that be ?" I inquired.

" He has made a superb capture in the shapo
of some wealthy English travellers. I do not
think I can recollect the name of the gentleman--
but it is very much like Ezzeliu— or Ezzeliue "

74

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OK, THE MEM0IE3 OF A MAJf-SERVA::iT.

'• Heseltine F" I ejaculated, the ■wildest terror
sweeping tbrough my brain.

"Yes. Eut good heavens "

"For God's sake, signer, tell me — tell me
quickly liow you obtained this intelligence !" — and
I felt that I was as pale as death ; while so dread-
ful was my excitement that I could have started
away at once to run madly towards the Apen-
nines.

" I see that the intelligence I have given you
has afflicted your mind cruelly. The name is
evidently familiar "

" Yes, yes !" I said, literally writhing with the
excruciations of suspense. "But tell me — tell
me "

" I will, without another word of unnecessary
comment," answered the Italian, appearing par-
tially to catch the infection of my own excitement.
" It was a travelliug-Carriage, containing a gentle-
man and two ladies — a valet and a maid sate
outside — there were four post-horses — and it was
in the evening, three or four days back, that the
equipage was passing amidst the Apennines when
it was stopped by Marco Uberti and his band.
The postilions were ordered to dismount and go
their ways as they thought fit — an injunction
which they lost no time in obeying. Thus the
entire equipage remained in the hands of the out-
laws ; and the postilions, having found their way
back to Florence, brought the intelligence."

■' And that is all you know ?" I inquired, still
with a most fevered and anguished excitement.

" All ! — and enough too, I fear, my poor
friend "

But I waited not for the remainder of the sen-
tence ; and flew away from the spot with a
speed that must have made the Italian think his
narrative had goaded ma to perfect madness. And
it was indeed well nigh to such a state that it had
driven me : for the thought that the adored
Annabel should have fallen into the hands of that
gang of miscreants, was sufficient to turn my
brain and hurl down reason from its throne. It
was back to the hotel that I flew ; and on the
threshold I met Captain Eaymond. Utterly for-
getful of the respect which I owed him as my
master, I rushed by him ; and in the same frantic
manner ascended to my chamber to take the
money which I possessed : for I had no other
thought than that of setting off at once to the
Apennines and doing something for the rescue of
Annabel and her relations— though what that
something was to be, I had not the remotest idea.
Scarcely had I taken all my money out of my box
and secured it about my person, when the door
opened and Captain Eajmond entered the chamber.

" Detain me not a minute !" I cried : and there
was still the wildest excitement in m^ looks, my
tone, and manner.

" Joseph, you must be calm," he said, placing
his back resolutely against the door. " There is
something unnatural iu all this "

" Let me pass ! let me pass !" I frantically ex-
claimed. "At your peril keep me back ! I am
desperate — I am mad !"

'•■ I see that you are," responded the Captain
coolly : " and it is my duty to learn what it all
means."

" They have taken her — I mean friends of mine
— they are prisoners let me go !" — and I

made a movement as if to push my master from
the door.

" Come, come, be calm, Joseph," he said, grasp-
ing me forcibly by the arm. "Treat me as a
friend — I am not playing the part of the master
now — I see that something has occurred to drive
you almost to frenzy — I can make allowances for
you : and besides, I have not forgotten your noble
conduct on a recent occasion."

I dared not strike my master, nor make use of
violence; and I could not force a passage without
doing so. His words calmed me somewhat ; and
seeing their effect, he hastened to add, " What-
ever has occurred, cannot I am sure be amended,
but is very likely to be rendered worse by such
wild precipitation. Tell me everything, and rest
assured that I will assist rather than thwart your
purposes."

I was smitten with a feeling of gratitude to-
wards Captain Eaymond; and at the same time
my eyes were opened to the folly of rushing in
that headlong fashion upon an enterprise which
did indeed require some serious deliberation, —
without which it would fail, and involve myself in
destruction, instead of enabling me to achieve ihe
deliverance of those whose images were uppermost
in my mind.

"Forgive me, sir," I said, "for my indecorous
conduct towards you "

"2^0 apology is needful: the state of your
mind is a sufficient excuse. But what has hap-
pened ? Some persons in whom you are in-
terested, have been captured "

"' Yes, sir— by those accursed banditti !" I re-
sponded with the bitterest vehemence.

"Ah! and you were going to rush 6ff madly
into the lion's den ? If I admire your magna-
nimity." added the Captain with a good-humoured
smile, " I cannot give you credit for prudence.
Come, be reasonable ! "Whatsoever you meditate
will not be marred by five minutes' ration.il dis-
course. 2s'ow tell me what plan you think of
adopting — if indeed you have as yet got any
scheme properly digested in your mind."

" I am resolved. Captain Eaymond," was my
firmly given answer, " to risk my life in the en-
deavour to rescue these persons. Pray do not ask
me why it is my secret "

" And rest assured I shall not impertinently
attempt to fathom it," responded the Captain, in
a kind and encouraging manner. " But let us
talk the business over, and see if I can assist with
' my counsel or otherwise. What do you propose
to do in the first instance ?"

I reflected for a few moments — and then said,
"I shall penetrate into the midst of the Apen-
nines under some disguise ; and I shall endeavour

to obtain an interview with" 1 had it on the

tip of my tongue to say '• Signor Yolterra," but
instantaneously recollecting myself, I substituted
the words—" that friendly bandit who assisted me
on the former occasion."

"' But what if you get captured in spit« of your
disguise? what if you fail to find the friendly
bandit? or if finding him, what if he should
refuse to peril his own safety by succouring you
again ?"

"All these are the risks I must encounter,"
was my response ; " and I am . fully prepared for
them."

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OB, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SEBVAKT.

"You are brave enough to say that you are
prepared to die," answered Captain Eaymond;
" but yours is a youug life thus to imperil "

"It will not be worth clinging to, sir, unless
I succeed in this enterprise!" I exclaimed pas-
sionately.

." Well, well — I have promised not to pehetrate
into your motives : but let us think of the exe-
cution of your design. What disguise will you
adopt? Eemember, those brigands have good
memories and keen eyes; and having once seen
you, they will scarcely fail to recollect you again —
unless your disguise is so admirable "

" Let me reach the outskirts of the Apennines,"
I said, "and I will find some adequate dis-
guise !"

" At least you will go well armed ?" rejoined the
Captain ; " and my pistols are at your service.
Eeally, however, I know not whether I ought to
permit you to embark oa this mad enter-
prise "

" If I were held back, sir," I exclaimed ve-
hemently, " I should go raving mad — I should lay
violent hands upon myself !"

" And it is only because I see you in this state,"
observed Eaymond, '• that I can satisfy my own
conscience in suffering you to persevere in your
design. Indeed, I begin to think, now that I
have calmed you down a little, that you must in-
deed trust altogether to circumstances— and that
it is impossible to lay down beforehand any par-
ticular course of proceeding. Are you deter-
mined .''"

'• So long as I am a free agent," was my reso-
lutely given response, " nothing shall hold me
back !"

" Then depart— and may success attend you !
I am half inclined to offer to accompany you "

" I can do better alone, sir," was my hastily
given answer : " for if it came to the crisis of
standing on self-defence, two would have but little
better chance than one against such numbers.
Besides, the friendly-disposed bandit might possibly
do for me — if in full confidence I seek him alone —
that which he might hesitate to perform if I were
accompanied by another."

"True!" remarked the Captain. "And now
that I have detained you sufficiently to enable the
effervescence of your feelings to subside into a
more rational condition, I will not keep you any
longer. There is that powerful horse of mine
which I purchased the day before yesterday — it is
at your disposal : there are my pistols, which you
may take from my room : and here is a pecuniary
subsidy — for money constitutes the sinew of war,
and you may possibly find a use for it."

Thus speaking. Captain Raymond placed a roll
of Florentine bank-notes in my hand ; and I ac-
companied him to his own apartment. He rang
the bell, and ordered his horse to be gotten in
readiness, — informing the waiter that he was going
to despatch me upon an immediate journey.

" We will not let all the world know on what
a wild Quixotic expedition you are bent," he said,
when the waiter had retired: "for news travel
fast. For aught we know these banditti may have
their spies and accomplices in Florence ; and it
would not do for the rumour of your enterprise to
precede you on the way."

I sincerely thanked Captain Eaymond for his

prudential conduct, as well as for the kind aid no
was rendering me ; and when, having secured the
pistols about ray person, I was ready to depart, he
shook pie warmly by the hand, wishing me suc-
cess. I mounted his horse; and issuing forth from
the city, took the road towards Pistoja, — which, as
I said on a former occasion, was about twenty-
five miles distant from the Tuscan capital. I will
not trouble the reader with my reflections during
the ride : suffice it to say that though when I left
Florence it was barely five o'clock in the afternoon,
— yet owing to the badness of the road, the deep
obscurity of the evening, and the caution I was
compelled to observe thi-ough fear of missing my
way, it was past nine when I entered Pistoja.

Here I was resolved to remain for the night, and
resume my journey with the very first scintillatioa
of dawn. It was necessary to allow the horse a
proper time to rest ; and moreover I could not pos-
sibly find my way amidst the passes of the Apen-
nines in the darkness of the night. I did not
even know whether I should be enabled in broad
daylight to retrace the route I had pursued when
in company with Miss Sackville; aud as for in-
quiring my way, unacquaLuted with the Italian
language as I vras — such a hope was altogether
out of the question. I accordingly proceeded
straight to the same inn at Pistoja where a relay
of horses was obtained on the occasion above
referred to.

The waiter at this hotel spoke French with flu-
ency ; and I was therefore enabled to make myself
understood. I ordered refreshments; and while
the man was attending upon me at supper, ho
said, "I believe you are a native of England-
judging by your looks and your accent?"

" Yes," I answered : aud thinking that the
waiter had not made the observation from mere
curiosity, I said, " Why do you ask me ?"

" Because, sir," he replied, " there is a fellow-
countryman of yours at the hotel, who met with a
very severe accident the day before yesterday, aud
who in consequence is likely to remain here for
some time."

"What is the nature of the accident?" I in-
quired.

" The gentleman was travelling post from
Florence ; and when within about a league of
Pistoja, the chaise was upset, and he was thrown
so heavily that it produced concussion of the brain.
He was brought on to the hotel ; and at first it was
thought his skull was fractured : but the medical
man says he may recover, though he will be some
weeks on a bed of illness. He is still perfectly
unconscious of everything that is passing around
him ; and the surgeon and landlord have been dis-
cussing the propriety of having his papers ex-
amined, so that his friends may be communicated
with — because who knows the anxiety that may be
experienced on account of his absence from where-
soever he was expected to arrive ?".

"To be sure!" I exclaimed: " his papers ought
to have been looked into at the very first -"

" Ah ! it is very easy talking, sir," interrupted
the waiter; "but the contents of his pocket-book
are all written in English, and there is no one here
who can read them. That is why I took the
liberty of asking if you were not a fellow-
countryman of the unfortunate traveller."

" I shall have the greatest pleasure in rendering

76

TOSEPH WILMOT ; OE, THE MEMOIES OP A MAN-SEfiVANT.

hiin any assistance that lies in my power. I wilL
presently make myself acquainted with so much of
the contents of his papers as it is requisite to glean
for the purpose J and then I will write to his rela-
tives or friends, informing them of his condition.
What is his name ?"

" I heard it read from the passport which he
had about him— but I forget it," replied the
waiter. " The names of you Englishmen are not
60 very easy to recollect. When you have done
your supper, I will inform the landlord of your
kind readiness to render assistance in this matter."

I had a great mind to ask the waiter, in a con-
versational manner, as to what rumour prevailed
at Pistoja in respect to the capture of the
travelling-carriage and its freight in the Apen-
nines : but I was so fearful of exciting a suspicion
relative to the object I had in view, and thereby
through any misadventure cause the failure of the
enterprise,— that I held my peace. By the time
I had concluded my supper, — of which however an
intense anxiety of mind prevented me from partak-
ing as heartily as might have been expected after
my ride, — the waiter re-entered the room, accom-
panied by a little old gentleman, whom he intro-
duced to me as the medical attendant that had
been called in for the injured Englishman. The
surgeon spoke French sufficiently to make himself
understood ; and he asked me to accompany him
to the invalid's chamber. I signified my assent :
we proceeded thither — a nurse was in attendance
— and as I advanced towards the couch where the
injured man lay stretched in unconsciousness,
how ineffable was my surprise on beholding JMi-,
Lanover

CHAPTER XCIII.

THE POCKET-BOOK.

The medical gentleman beheld the look of surprise
which thus appeared upon my countenance; and
he immediately exclaimed, " You know him ?"

"Yes — I know him well," was my answer.

" So much the better !" responded the surgeon,
not perceiving the slight tincture of bitterness
that there was in my tone. "You are all the
more fit to examine his private papers."

" He is a Mr. Lanover," I said, now determined
to maintain the impression on the medical man's
part that I was really a fit and proper person to
examine into the private affairs of Mr. Lanover :
for I had strongly suspected from the first moment
I had heard of the capture of Sir Matthew and the
ladies in the Apennines, that he was not altogether
I. stranger to it, — his mysterious conduct at Flo-
rence having led to this supposition, which was
now more or less confirmed by finding him at
Pistoja: — "he is a Mr. Lanover," I said, "and I
have known him for several years."

" Yes — Lanover is his name. Poor man, he is
in a bad state !" added the surgeon : " but when
you write to his friends, you may tell them that I
do not despair of his eventual recovery."

Mr. Lanover, at all times hideous, was now posi-
tively revolting in his looks, — so ghastly pale was
his countenance, and so horrible did it seem as he
lay with his eyes closed, and a white bandage.

saturated with some cooling fluid, over his temples
He was breathing heavily, and appeared to be in
pain, though he was perfectly unconscious.

The landlord of the hotel now entered the cham-
ber, he having heard from the waiter that I had
come thither with the surgeon. The medical man
explained to him that I happened to be well
acquainted with the invalid; and the landlord,
drawing forth a key from his pocket, opened a
bureau whence he produced a capacious pocket-
book. I opened it — glanced at the contents — and
could scarcely avoid the betrayal of a sudden
emotion on catching sight of a name which was
terribly familiar to me. But fortunately retaining
the mastery over myself, I intimated to the sur-
geon that it pained me too much to remain in that
room with the spectacle of my injured fellow-
countryman before me : for the truth is, I now
wished to be alone in order to examine the papers
more at my ease. The medical man thought it
very natural that I should wish to leave the sick
chamber ; and he said, " Yes — you had better
retire. I shall remain here a little while ; and I
will see you again before I leave the hotel."

The landlord accompanied me to the room
where I had dined ; and methought he showed an
inclination to remain while I inspected the pocket-
book, — which was indeed natural enough, as he
was legally responsible for its safe custody — he
knew not what papers of importance it mi^ht con-
tain— and I was a stranger to him. But in a few
minutes the arrival of a post-chaise with a party of
travellers, demanded his presence ; and he accord-
ingly left me to myself.

The name which had so much struck me on first
opening the pocket-book, was that of Marco
Uberti ; and it was appended to a letter written in
English, in a vile scrawling hand, and the language
so made up with foreign idioms that its meaning
was in some places difficult to be fathomed. How-
ever, after carefully studying the document, I suc-
ceeded in making it out completely ; and as it is
necessary to introduce the letter into my narrative,
I will give it — not in its original state — but cor-
rected and amended, so as to be entirely compre-
hensible to the reader. It was directed to Mr.
Lanover at Rome; and its sense ran as follows: —

" November 2, 18il.

" In answer to year last commonicatioD, I beg to 8tat«
that I accept the terms you have offered ; although you
have sadly beaten me down from my original price. You
must remember, good sir, that I have to share with my
brave fellows ; and thus the amount yoa propose is not
80 very liberal when it comes to be divided between so
many of ns. However, two hundred pounds — reckoning
by Engliih money — are not to be altogether discarded
and as you say you are poor at the present time and that
travelling in search of the old Englishman and the ladies
b as made inroads on your funds, I accept your terms.
Let it be well understood, however, that all the ready
money and valuables I may find upon them are to be
my perquisite ; and that it is only their persons which
are to remain &tt/our diposal.

"You tell me in yonr last letter that you found them
at Kome ; and that from certain inquiries you have been
enabled to institute, you have ascertained that they will
leave for Florence in a few days— and that thence, after
a brief halt, tbey will be passing through my Apennine
domain. So far, so good : but it rests with you to give
me farther information — and this must be of the most
particular character, eo that there may be no chance of
the birds escaping me. Ton will of course watch them

JOSEPH WIIMOT ; OR, THE MEMOIRS OP A MAN-SEEVANT.

77

from Home to Florence; and immediately on their
arrival in that city, you must despatch a l«tter to the
post-office at Pistoja, directed to Pignor Phihppo, my
worthy interpreter, who is now perpetrating this scrawl
to my dictation. He shall be in Pistoja to look out for
the letter, about the time you specify as that when the
affair U likely to come off; and he will send you an
intimation at what hour and place he will meet yonm
Florence for a few minutes, so that he may communicate
Torbally with yoa This is absolutely necessary, for
more reasons than one. In the first place, he must
ascertain from you the precise time when Heaeltme and
the ladies take their departure trom Florence, as well
M the exact route they pursue; and these particulars
Tou must manage to glean from some hostler or under-
line at the hotel whence they start. Be as particular as
you can in respect toHme anArouie; because I cannot
keep my band in an idle ambush for many long hours
together. There is another reason why Philippo must
see you personally ; and that is in order to give you the
pass-word by means of which you could alone penetrate
in safety through the fastnesses of my domain, and
thereby avoid the chance of being shot down or knocked
on the head by any of my brave fellows whom you might
happen to meet. When the birds are sale in my custody,
I will lodge them in the tower; and you may rest
assured that they shall receive decent attentions atid
honourable treatment,— always excepting, however, the
surrendering up on their part of their money and jewels
as my perquisites. Yon may then make your appearance
here as soon as ever you like, and drive your bargain
with the old man as you think fit : bat remember that
the first thing to be done is to place in my hands the
promised amount of two htmdred pounds or a bank-bill
for that sum.

" By the bye, I may ai well observe that if it do not
suit your ptirpose to come in person, and j.^yon mean to
employ some agent to carry out the business with the
old man, all yon have to do is to give him the pass-word
and the money— (do not by any means forget the latter)

and your deputy will be as welcome as yourself. But

don't omit the pass-word. Bono more at present from
your loving friend,

"MAKCO UBEETI."

This precious document, in which villany ran in
a vein of flippant familiarity, gave me a complete
insight into the execrable proceedings of Mr.
Lanover ; and if anything were wanting to com-
plete the clue to his perfidious intentions, it was
furnished by another document in the jxjcket-book
and to which I will presently refer. But in respect
to the letter I had just read, it showed me how
Lanover had bribed Marco Uberti to capture Sir
Matthew Heseltine and the rest of the party — to
carry them to his tower — and to hold them pri-
soners there until he (Lanover) should have dic-
tated his terms to the Baronet. I now compre-
hended that the man on horseback whom Lanover
had met at a particular spot in Florence, could
have been none other than Philippo, Marco
Uberti's interpreter ; and let the reader remember
that this meeting took place on the very evening,
and only a few hours after Sir Matthew Heseltine
and his party had quitted Florence. It was
moreover evident that Philippo, having received
from Mr. Lanover the requisite information with
regard to the travellers, must have sped back in all
haste to Marco Uberti's head-quarters ia the
Apennines, so that the banditti might repair to a
suitable ambush in order to waylay those whom
they intended to capture. Amidst all the bitterest
grief and indignation which I experienced on
account of what had thus occurred, there was a
.single source of solace — and that by no means an

' insignilicant one : it was the assurance which
Marco Uberti's letter afforded that no ill-treatment
was intended on his own part towards the pri-
soners.

I did not however pause to reflect for many
moments ere I proceeded to the farther examina-
tion of the contents of Lanover's pocket-book.
The other document to which I have above
alluded, was a deed evidently drawn up by an
English attorney, and to the following elTc-ct: — i
that on condition that Mr. Lanover initiated na
process for the restitution of conjugal rights in
respect to his wife, and that he consented thence-
forth to a complete separation from her, leaving
her at the same time the whole and sole control
over her daughter Annabel, Sir Matthew Heseltine
was by that deed to guarantee the payment of one
thousand pounds a year to the said Mr. Lanover
for the remainder of his life ; and Sir Matthew
Heseltine was so to charge his estate that at his
death the said annual payment of one thousand
pounds should continue to be made to Mr. Lanover
throughout the lifetime of the latter. The deed
farther set forth that this arrangement was
willingly and spontaneously entered into by Sir
Matthew Heseltine — that it emanated from a pro-
position on his own part — and that no illegitimate
suasion or coercion were used to induce him to
sign it.

Here was another phase in Lanover's villanous
proceedings. Doubtless he had hitherto failed to
extort from Sir Matthew the unconscionably large
income he sought to obtain; and he thus put in
execution these detestable devices in order to
accomplish his aims.

I continued my examination of the contents of
the pocket-book ; and I found a bank-bill issued
by a firm at Florence, and for a sum which,
reduced into English money, would be equivalent
to two hundred pounds precisely. This therefore
was the amount which Mr. Lanover had to pay
to Marco Uberti ; and in default of which pay-
ment there could be no doubt that the un-
scrupulous bandit would keep his prisoners in
custody until they made arrangements to ransom
themselves. In a word, their freedom could not
be effected without this payment being made to
Uberti. With my own money, and that which
Captain Raymond had so generously placed in my
hand, I had but one hundred pounds ; and all
this I should require for certain purposes. Not
therefore for an instant did I hesitate to consign
Mr. Lanover's bank-bill to my own pocket, — re-
solving that if f jrtune continued to favour my
enterprise, this amount should go to its original
destination. I felt confident that in the hasty
examination which the landlord and surgeon had
made of the contents of the pocket-book, they had
overlooked the'bank-bill : for it was enclosed in a
letter which was itself contained in an envelope —
and I argued that if the bill had been discovered
it would have been taken possession of by the
landlord or doctor for security's sake. However,
whether I were right or not in my surmise, I
chose to run the risk of this self-appropriation of
the bank-bill. As for the other contents of the
pocket-book, beyond those which I have enume-
rated and described, they were of no consequence.
One thing struck me as extraordinary — that the
name of Marco Uberti should have escaped the

78

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-3EEVAIfT.

notice of the landlord and surgeon when they had
looked into the pocket-book: but such was evi-
dently the fact— or else they would scarcely have
treated the injured man with so much sympathy
and consideration.

By the time I had finished looking over the
papers, the surgeon and landlord made their ap-
pearance ; and I explained to the former (the
latter not speaking French) that the pocket-book
contained documents of the highest consequence—
that I had taken down the address of Mr.
Lanover's friends at the place where he was to
join them — and that I would write to them before
I went to bed, so that the letter might be posted
on the morrow. I suggested that as I was an
intimate friend of Mr. Lanover, the pocket-book
ought to be sealed up in my presence ; and I
offered to pay a sum in advance for the invalid's
maintenance, if his own purse did not happen to
be well filled. The surgeon interpreted all this to
the landlord ; and both admired what they were
pleased to consider my " handsome conduct." The
pocket-book was sealed up in an envelope and
restored to the landlord's keeping : but I was
informed that there was no necessity for me to
disburse any of my own funds on Mr. Lanover's
account, as the purse found upon his person con-
tained a sum adequate to all the demands that
were likely to be made upon him, if he lived — or
to defray his funeral expenses, if he died. I was
glad when I saw the pocket-book sealed up : for
the circumstance set my mind completely at ease
in respect to the bank-bill ; and I retired to my
chamber to ponder all that had occurred.

Thus far fortune had most wonderfully favoured
my enterprise. I had obtained a complete clue to
the whole ramifications of the villanous proceedings
instituted by Lanover, and which had thrown those
in whom I was so much interested, into the hands
of Marco Uberti. I possessed the pecuniary means
of liberating them : but there was one important
particular in which my knowledge was deficient —
and this was the pass-word that could alone prove
to Marco Uberti that I was really delegated to act
for Mr. Lanover. The bandit was wily and astute ;
and it was scarcely to be supposed that the mere
production of the ransom-money, together with
explanations showing that I was initiated into the
affair, would suffice to convince one who by cir-
cumstances was naturally rendered so keenly alive
to aught that was suspicious or treacherous.
Therefore it became absolutely necessary for me to
learn that pass-word, especially as the bandit-chief
had in his letter so strictly enjoined Lanover to
communicate it to a deputy if he employed one.
But I did not despair of conquering this difficulty
by some means or another ; and my thoughts in
this respect pointed to Angelo Volterra. A far
greater difficulty still, in my estimation, was the
disguise I had to assume when penetrating into
the stronghold of the banditti.

Sleep stole over me in the midst of my reflec-
tions; and I slumbered on until one of the hotel
servants called me an hour before daylight in pur-
suance of the instructions I had given ere retiring
to rest. I rose — partook of a hasty breakfast —
and when I paid my bill, gave the landlord a letter
which I had prepared to keep up appearances, but
which really contained no writing inside. It was
simply addressed to Mr. Smith at Vienna; and the

landlord firmly believed that this was the friend
whose anxiety was to be relieved on Mr. Lanover's
account. I learnt that the invalid appeared to be
a trifle better, according to the nurse's report ; but
he, was still in a state of almost complete uncon-
sciousness, and unable to give utterance to a word.
I bade the landlord take all possible care of him •
and mounting the horse which Captain Raymond
had so kindly placed at my disposal, I rode away
from the hotel.

On quitting the town of Pistoja, I took the
route towards that village whither I had con-
ducted Miss Sackville on our escape from the rob-
bers' tower, and where we had obtained the old
rattletrap vehicle that had taken us on to Florence.
An hour's ride brought me there ; and I halted at
the inn which had furnished the equipage just
alluded to. The landlord immediately recognised
me ; and I inquired whether the banditti had como
that way in pursuit of us on the morning of our
flight ? He answered in the negative ; and I
next inquired what had been done with the horses
which the banditti's stable had furnished us. The
landlord said that the mayor — dreading the ven-
geance of Marco Uberti and his band upon him-
self and the whole village, if it should become
known to them that the animals were detained
there — had ordered them to be ridden some few
miles along the road in the direction of the
brigands' stronghold, and then turned adrift so
that their instinct might guide them homeward.
The landlord then began to question me in his
turn, — inquiring what business had brouglit me
back again to the village : but I had no intention
of gratifying his curiosity, and accordingly devised
some excuse to satisfy him. At the same time I
said it was quite possible I might remain a day
or two at his establishment — at which intimation
he was greatly pleased.

Having seen that the horse was properly
stabled, I rambled forth from the village, with the
intention of searching amongst the woods for a
particular herb which, as I had read, would pro-
duce a decoction affording a deep swarthy dye for
the complexion, and which would last for several
days in defiance of soap and water. Some parti-
cular anecdote which I had read in connexion with
this herb, and which I had only that morning re-
collected again — but with which I need not trouble
the reader, — had left in my uiind the precise de-
scription given of it ; and I hoped to experience
little difficulty in finding it. It was then my pur-
pose to procure in the village quite a difi'erent
suit of clothes from the somewhat fashionable cut
that I wore ; and though the disguise would not
after all be a very perfect one, yet I was resolved
to put a bold face upon the matter and lose no
time in prosecuting my enterprise.

Having passed three or four hours in the wood,
searching in every direction for what I required,
— and displaying as much exemplary patience as
ever was manifested by the most inveterate gatherer
of simples, — I found a herb precisely correspond-
ing with the description which I retained in my
memory. I culled a sufficiency for my purpose—
and began to retrace my way towards the village :
but when within about a quarter of a mile of my
destination, I suddenly came upon a scene which
made me pause to contemplate it. By the side of
a streamlet which rippled and sparkled through a

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OE, THE MEMOIRS OP A MAN-SEEVANT.

79

hollow formed by rocks overhanging the place, two
vehicles resembling the gipsy-carts one sees in
shady lanes in England, were standing ; and a
couple of miserable-looking horses were nibbling
away at the grass at a little distance. A fire was
lighted upon the ground ; and over it, by mean|B of
three upright poles, joining at the upper ends, was
suspended a cauldron, also in the true gipsy-
fashion. This however was no gipsy encampment :
but three or four men, as many females, and a
couple of children, were dressing themselves in the
costume of itinerant mountebanks and morris-
dancers. Without much regard to decency, they
were thus performing their toilets in the open air
— that place being a dressing-room with which
nature had furnished them.

The moment I was descried by the troop, the
two little half-naked children came running to-
wards me ; and in the French language they begged
me to give them a few sous. One was a girl of
about nine — the other a boy of seven ; and both
were nice-look'ing children, — their limbs displaying
a marvellous elasticity and lightness as they thus
bounded towards me. But when I gave them
each a small silver coin, they cut such capers,
turning head over heels, and curvetting in the air,
that I was quite astonished at these specimens of
vrhat they were professionally able to perform.
Expressing their thanks in joyous tones, they
bounded back to the troop, to whom they displayed
the pieces of money, which were evidently a per-
fect treasure in their estimation. A man, also
half-drcssed, now came hastening towards me with
a bottle in one hand and a glass in the other ; and
speaking in French, he begged me to take a drop
of brandy, which he proffered in order to display
his gratitude for my kindness towards his children.
He was a tall slender person, about forty years of
age, with a well-knit frame, and limbs as elastic as
those of a tight-rope dancer. I declined the
proffered refreshment — but questioned him as to
the pursuits of himself and his comrades. I
learnt that they were a troop of dancers and
mountebanks, as I had anticipated — that he and
his family (consisting of his wife and those two
children) were French — and that the rest of the
party were Savoyards — that they travelled in this
gipsy-fashion from place to place— and that they
■were now dressing themselves in their professional
attire in order to pay a visit to the adjacent village.
The man assured me that they experienced more
sympathy and picked up more money in small
hamlets than in large towns ; and that they had
been doing tolerably well for the last few weeks,
during which their exhibitions were altogether
confined to the Apennine villages. Having given
me these particulars in a frank and ingenuous
manner, he invited me to come amongst the
troop, and see how they decorated themselves for
their performance. I at first made some scruple
on the score of the females : but he assured me
that their toilet was now all but finished— and I
accepted the invitation j for a certain idea was
already floating vaguely in my mind— namely,
that possibly 1 now had an opportunity of pro-
curing a better disguise than I had as yet anti-
cipated, j

On arriving amongst the group, I was welcomed 1
■with smiles of gratitude for the money which I
had bestowed upon the children; and as these

little ones began to renew their antics joyously
and gleefully before me, I tossed tbeni each a
larger piece of silver, which enhanced their mirth
into the most exuberant delight. Two chests con-
taining the "properties," were open upon the
ground; and on the ground itself a portion of
their contents were spread. There were articles
of quaint costume, male and female — wigs of
various colours — masks — boxes of rouge and
pallets of paint. Pretending to be inspired by
curiosity, I examined these articles, — especially
directing my attention to the wigs. The French
mountebank who had conducted me thither, fancy-
ing that I was deeply interested in their proceed-
ings, opened a tin box and exhibited several pairs
of false whiskers and moustaches, as well as an im-
mense black beard ; and he informed me that all
these succedaneous articles were his, own handi-
work— for that he was properly a hairdresser by
trade, but that being ruined by misfortunes, and
having always had a taste for a roving life, he
had taken to the pursuits in which I now found
him engaged.

" And my wife too," he added, indicating a
good-looking woman of about two-and-thirty, who
was apparelled in some fairy costume, and was
now addressing herself to the completion of her .
children's fancy toilet, — "my wife too is much
happier than when we had the cares of a business
that was never profitable : for to tell you the truth,
sir, we were both too fond of frequenting the
theatres and places of amusement ever to get on.
Now we lead a merry life, and have no tax-
collectors knocking at our door — no landlord com-
ing for his rent. But pray examine these spe-
cimens," continued the man, showing me the false
whiskers and moustaches. " I flatter myself that
no Paris artiste could turn out anything better.
Excuse me for saying that your beardless coun-
tenance would be wonderfully improved by a pair
of these whiskers : and if you were only to add the
moustache, you would be perfectly irresistible
amongst the ladies !"

" Do you think so ?" I asked with a smile.
"But could not any keen eye detect that they were
false ?"

" It all depends, sir, on the way in which they
are put on," replied the mountebank. " If you
seriously thought of accepting the little present
which I am desirous to make you in return for
your kindness towards the children, I would fasten
them myself in the first instance ; and you would
afterwards be enabled to do it for yourself with the
utmost nicety and precision."

" And what do these bottles contain ?" I in-
quired, as I perceived three or four phials at the
bottom of the tin box.

" Dyes for the complexion," responded the
Frenchman ; " we sometimes use them in par-
ticular performances. They are mere decoctions
of herbs that grow wild amongst these mountains —
and here, for instance, are some !"

As he spoke he took from one of the trunks a
quantity of the very same herb that I had been
searching for, and with which my pockets were
filled : so that I at once saw I might save myself
the trouble of making my own brewing, by the
purchase of one of these phials.

" These specimens of hair," I said, " are really
so excellent that I shall certainly avail myself of

80

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OK, THE MEMOIRS OP A MAy-SERVAXT.

this opportunity of supplying nature's deficiency
with regard to ray own countenance : but you
must permit me to give you an adequate remune-
ration. I shall also take one of these phials, for
curiosity's sake."

I placed a piece of gold in the Frenchman's
hand ; and he was so overjoyed as well as grateful
that I might have walked off, if I had chosen,
with the whole contents of the tin box — bushy
beard and all. But I contented myself with a
delicate pair of curling glossy whiskers, and a
moustache that a Parisian dandy might have
envied me the possession of: I also took one of
the phials— and then I said to the Frenchman,
" But you must not forget your promise to put
them on for me."

" This moment, if you please, sir ?" exclaimed
the grateful mountebank : " or tell me where and
when I can wait upon you — and it will afford me
such pleasure !"

I looked at my watch, and found that it was
two o'clock in the afternoon. I asked the French-
man how long his performances in the village
would last ? After glancing around upon the
troop, he intimated that they were now all ready
to set oIT; and that as the village was close at
hand, and their performances were generally limited
to an hour, I might judge how soon he could
place himself at my disposal.

" Well," I said, " come to me at the inn iu the
village a little before five o'clock. But you will
of course make your appearance in your plain
clothes ; and you necil not suffer it to be known
that you are one of the professionals who will iu
the meantime have been exhibiting. Xor is it
necessary to give any hint to your comrades as to
the object of your visit. Attend to me faithfully
in this matter — and I shall give you further proof
of my bounty."

The Frenchman promised compliance with all
my instructions ; and taking leave of the group,
I retraced my steps to the village. But while
proceedin(T thither, I flung away the herbs which
I had gathered, and which were now no longer of
any service to me.

CHAPTER XCIV.

PEOGKESS OF MY ElfTEEPEISE.

While the mountebanks were exhibiting in pre-
sence of the villagers, I was partaking of a sub-
stantial dinner that was served up ; and a little
before five the Frenchman was ushered into the
room where I awaited him. He was no doubt
apparelled in his best garb — though it consisted of
a somewhat threadbare brown coat with a rusty
velvet collar, a faded silk waistcoat of a flashy pat-
tern, and light blue trousers puffed out with enor-
mous plaits or gathers from the hips to the front
and descending almost into points at the boots
over which they were tightly strapped.

" Now, my good friend," I said, " it is not here
that you can perform for me the service that I re-
quire : but have the kindness to go and wait for
me about half a mile beyond the village — and I
shall not be long ere I join you."

I made him toss off a bumper of wine ; and he

then left me. The moment he was gone, I sum-
moned the waiter — ordered my horse to be saddled
— and asked for my bill. The landlord was quite
distressed to perceive that I intended to quit his
establishment so soon : but I cheered him with the
precise of revisiting him in a day or two ; and
having paid my account, I took my departure. A
iew minutes' ride brought me to the spot where
the Frenchman was waiting for me; and I then
explained to him that I not only required hia
assistance to affix the false hair on my countenance,
but also to show me how to tint my complexion
with the fluid in such a way that the keenest eye
might not detect it. I bade the man ask me no
questions, but proceed to work, and I should keep
my promise by rewarding him liberally. Having
stripped off my coat and waistcoat, the dye was
applied to my face and to my neck — then to my
hands and wrists. It speedily dried ; and he
assured me that the colour would be so natural in
its appearance that no human being could detect it
as artificial. It likewise had the quality of being
so " fast," as linendrapers would say in respect to
the prints of gown-pieces, that no soap and water
would remove it for thrse or four days, when it
would gradually disappear by the process of ab-
sorption, though without producing the slightest
injurious effect. He then fastened on the whiskers
and moustache ; and when his work was so far
accomplished, I gave him another piece of gold.

'• But this is iiot all," I said. " We must change
clothes— and I flatter myself that my suit is so
little the worse for wear you will be no loser by
the bargain."

The Frenchman joyfully accepted the proposi-
tion ; and I was careful to remove from my own
pockets my pistols and purse,— securing them
about my person when dressed in the mountebank's
seedy apparel. He asked no questions : I dare say
he fancied I was some oflender against the laws, hav-
ing very good reason thus to disguise myself — but I
cared little for his opinion : I was too much re-
joiced at the fact of being so well disguised — so in-
finitely better indeed than I could possibly have
anticipated when on the previous evening at Pis-
toja wondering how I should succeed in disguising
myself at all.

We parted company ; and remounting my horse,
I rode along in the direction of the banditti's
stronghold. It was about eighteen miles from the
village ; and be it remembered that I had yet a
most important object to accomplish ere I could
present myself with confidence to Marco Uberli.
This was to obtain possession of the pass-word:
and my aim now was to procure an interview
if possible with Signor Volterra. But as I pur-
sued my way, I could not help reflecting that
though fortune had so singularly favoured me thus
far, I must not be disappointed if she now failed
to prove equally propitious. Volterra might be
no longer with the band— or if he were I might
vainly endeavour to meet him alone : or I m\ght
even be captured by the band in the attempt to
fall in with him. But in this last-mentioned
eventuality I was prepared how to act : I should
demand to be taken at once before Marco Uberti,
to whom I would boldly proclaim that I was Lano-
ver's deputy,— affording such proofs as I had it in
my power to give, and declaring that a pass-word
had been mentioned to me, but that it hud entirely

JO£EPH WILMOT; OE, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SEEVAXT.

81

■lipped out of my memorj. Such was my pre-
arranged mode of proceeding in ease of necessity :
but I did not altogether flatter myself, for the
reasons abeady stated, that this device would have
the desired effect : — still it was the only course I
could pursue in case of being captured.

Thus, being well disguised — well armed — and
also having my mind made up for any casualty
that might transpire, — with a stout heart, and a
firm reliance on that providence which had already
appeared so signally to favour my views in more
ways than one, — I rode onward, while the shades
of evening were deepening around me. I could
not help wondering how I looaed with my
swarthiiy tinted complexion, my false whiskers
and moustache, and the queer apparel in which I
was clad : but I felt satisfied that my disguise was
complete, even against such eagle-eyes v s those of
^he banditti— the more so when it is remembered
63

that I was only seen clearly by a few of them on
the night of my previous adventure in the Apen-
nines, and then only for a few minutes by the
comparatively dim light of a lantern in the hut.
Before I resume the thread of my narrative, I
may as well observe that it was my fixed intention
to manage the whole matter, if possible, in such a
way that Sir Matthew Heseltine, Mrs. Lanover,
and Annabel should not learn who their deliverer
was, — this being a secret which I fondly hoped I
should be enabled to maintain until the arrival of
the grand day appointed for my return to Hesel-
tine Hall, when the explanation I should have to
give would plead with additional force in my
behalt as the claimant of the hand of the adored
and lovely Annabel.

Musing on all these things, I pursued my way;
and as the moon and stars arose high above the
Apennine mountains, they threw sufficient light

82

JOSEPH WIIMOT; OB, THE MEMOIES OF A MAN-SEEVANT.

upon my path to enable me to recojjnise occasiona
objects which I had observed during my ride along
that same road, but in the contrary direction, with
Olivia Sackville. I calculated that I must thus
have ridden about fourteen miles, and was now
within four or five of the banditti's stronghold, —
when I heard the sounds of a horse's hoofs ap-
proaching towards me. My pistols were instan-
taneously drawn forth : I reined in my steed — and
listeaed. It was evidently only one horseman who
was thus advancing; and I resolved, if I were
attacked, to use my weapons without the slightest
compunction. The individual was coming on at
a gentle trot : but that part of the road happened
to be so obscure with the overhanging trees that
even when he was within half-a-dozen yards of me
I could not distinguish his features, nor how he
was dressed. He called out something in the
Italian language ; and — Oh, joy ! I at once recog-
nised the voice of Angelo Volterra. The next
moment I made myself kno^vn to him.

" And what on earth are you doing here ?" he
exclaimed, now addressing me in English. "The
words I first spoke to you in Italian were a warn-
ing that you must be insensate, whoever you were,
to rush on into the lion's den."

" Thank heaven for this assurance !" I en-
thusiastically exclaimed, as I thought of the deep
fervid love which Olivia Sackville bore for this man.

" And why do you speak thus ?" he asked.

" Because your words have just sent the con-
viction to my soul that although I found you
amongst banditti, you cannot possibly be a bandit
yourself!"

Volterra made no immediate answer ; and it was
too dark on that spot for me to judge by his coun-
tenance what was the effect my speech had just
produced upon him.

"But tell me," he said, abruptly breakxDg that
silence, " wherefore do I find you here ?"

" I know that I can trust you," I answered :
" indeed, it was my intention to seek your succour.
My object is to eflect the liberation of those Eng-
lish prisoners "

" But this is madness !" ejaculated Volterra.
" Uberii will recognise you "

" Let us advance into the moonlight," I inter-
rupted him ; " and we will then see whether you
yourself would have recognised me if I had spoken
in a feigned voice, and if I had not declared my-
self."

We advanced accordingly to a spot where the
trees ceased, and where the moonbeams poured
down upon the road : I took off my hat, and
turned my face towards the light— while Volterra
studied me with the most earnest scrutiny.

" Yes — your disguise is complete !" he said.
" But this is only a small part of what is required :
for 1 dare not — indeed I have not the means to
render you any succour. TJberti himself keeps the
keys of the rooms in which the prisoners are con-
fined "

" Are they ■« ell treated ?" I anxiously in-
quired.

" Yes : on that score they have nothing to com-
plain of."

" G-od be thanked ! And now, Signer Volterra,
all the assistance I require from you is the pass-
word that will admit me into the presence of
Marco Uberti."

" That I can assuredly give you," he responded :
'■' but "

" Then fear not for the rest !" I exclaimed.
"Accident has led me to the knowledge of the
whole ramifications of that conspiracy of which
those prisoners are the victims. I have their ransom-
money about me : I have the means of proving— or
at least of making the bandit chief believe that I
am an accredited agent from the prime mover in
this conspiracy. If you think my disguise com-
plete, and if you can give me the pass- word, I
have no fear of failure — but on the contrary, every
hope of success."

" You are a brave young fellow," cried Volterra ;
"and you deserve to succeed. I will ride with you
a portion of the way — we must then separate —
and I wUl regain the tower by a circuitous
route."

We rode onward together : and Angelo Volterra
said to me in a low voice, "The incidents which
took place on the last occasion that we met, suc-
ceeded each other with such rapidity, aod there
was such little time for either thought or speech,
that I did not put to you a question which I might
have asked, and which I more or less wonder that
I did not. You remembt-T," he continued, after a
brief pause, " that you imposed a condition upon
mo— a conditiou which I faithfully promised to ob-
serve. It wns that I would not again see Miss
Sackville. What made you impose that condition ?
what reason had you for believing that I could
wish to see her again ?"

I did not of course choose to inform Signer Vol-
terra how accident had made me a listener to the
conversation between himself and Olivia at the en-
trance of the pavilion in the garden of the village
hotel; and yet it was absolutely necessary to give
some response to a query so natural on his part :
I therefore said, '•' Could I suppose, Signer, that
you were actuated by any save the very strongest
motives for risking your own life in order to libe-
rate Lord Eiugwold's daughter ? She is beautiful
— and you were continually thrown in her way for
a period of some months. From these circum-
stances I drew a certain inference — and hence the
condition which I imposed."

" I will not deny that your inference is correct,"
rejoined Volterra ; " and the time may come when"

but abruptly checking himself, he asked,

" How fares it with the Eingwold family ? are they
all in good health ? and did they sufi'er from the
outrage perpetrated against them ?"

"Jfo — they suffered not to any extent worth
speaking of," I answered : " they are all well, and
still residing at Florence."

"Ah, Florence !" cried Volterra, with a profound
sigh, as if of regret at being absent from his native
city. "You faithfully kept your promise?" he
abruptly inquired : " you did not breathe to a soul
that I was the liberator of Miss Sackville and
yourself on that memorable occasion ?"

" No — not for worlds would I have forfeited my
pledge," I answered, " so long as you kept yours.
But now let me become the querist. Were you
suspected of aiding in our flight ?"

"Not in the remotest degree : the precautions I
took were completely successful. That you should
have been enabled to file through your chaiu, was
not the subject of any particular wonderment on
the part of the banditti, — as it was supposed that

JOSEPH WTLiiOT; OB, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAIT-SEErAITT,

83

you might by some very possible accident have
had an instrament fitted for the purpose about
your person, and which had escaped their notice
when they rifled your pockets. But what did
plunge them into the utmost perplexity, was the
evident knowledge you had obtained of the where-
abouts of the stables and the place where Miss
Sackville was confined. Suspicion fell upon no
one ; but Marco Uberti chafed, and swore, and
gave vent to the most violent rage when the
flight was discovered. It is on this account that
he himself now keeps the keys of the chambers in
which the prisoners are confined."

" There are the old gentleman and the two
ladies— the valet and the maid— are there not ?" I
inquired.

"Yee— the carriage tooi, and the four horses:
but the postilions are sent about their business.
Whatsoever the travellers had worth taking about
their persons or in their boxes, has been seized
upon by the unscrupulous brigand- chief : but in
other respects, as I just now assured you, their
treatment has been strictly compatible with pro-
priety. The two ladies and the maid are in one
chamber — the old gentleman and his valet in
another."

At this moment the sudden galloping of horses
broke upon our ears ; and Yolterra exclaimed,
" The banditti ! I must leave you!"

" But the pass-word ?" 1 ejaculated eagerly.

Volterra mentioned some word — I caught it not
— I cried out to him that I had failed to compre-
hend it — but his horse was dashing away from the
spot with the speed of the whirlwind, and in a
moment he was lost to my view. Nothing could
exceed the poignancy of my disappointment,
amounting almost at the instant to anguish and
despair, at this sudden failure of one of the most
vitally important details of my enterprise : but
I had little leisure for bitter reflection, inasmuch
as within a minute after Volterra had thus
abruptly dashed away from me, I was overtaken
and surrounded by half-a-dozen of the banditti
who had thus galloped upon me from behind. All
attempt at resistance was useless against such a
number ; and even if I had discharged both my
pistols with effect, it would only have been at the
instantaneous sacrifice of my own life. The rob-
bers, perceiving that I remained quiet, offered me
no personal violence : nor indeed was a hand laid
upon me— and I ejaculated the words, " Marco
Uberti ! Marco Uberti !"

Then my eyes swept hastily round upon the
ferocious group of horsemen, whose appearance
was horribly picturesque, so to speak, in the flood
of moonlight : but I did not recognise the terrible
leader of the band amongst them. One of them
addressed me in Italian ; and I answered in
French, " If any person knows the language which
I am now speaking, let him discourse with me."

" I am your man for that purpose !" said an in-
dividual, also speaking in French, and whom I
recognised to be the fellow who had acted as inter-
preter between Marco Uberti and myself when I
was a prisoner in the hut : I therefore concluded
him to be Philippe.

" I deraard," I said, still speaking in the French
language, and all along disguising my voice some-
what, •' to be conducted into the presence of your
redoubtable chief Marco Uberti : for I have busi-

ness to transact with him — and I am delegated by
an Englishman named Lanover."

" Ho ! ho !" cried Philippo, " this alters the
question. You, then, perhaps, are an English-
man ? — though you look more like a Corsican or a
Spaniard for that matter."

" Yes — I am an Englishman," I answered, but
BtiU in the French language, as I of course was
not presumed to know that my querist was con-
versant with my native tongue.

" So you come on the part of Mr. Lanover ?"
resumed the latter, now changing the language of
his speech to the English one. " Of course you
are able to give the pass-word P"

" The pass-word ?" I repeated, as if with an
abstracted air. " To be sure ! Mr. Lanover men-
tioned the pass-word to me — but it has escaped
my memory. For the life of me I cannot think
of it at this moment !"

" Indeed it loill be for the life of you if you do
not recollect it," responded Philippo with brutal
curtness. " Lanover is too shrewd and sensible
a man to depute as his agent any mad-brained
reckless fellow who was likely to let slip so im-
portant a thing as the pass-word out of his
memory. Depend upon it the Captain " — mean-
ing Marco Uberti — " will treat you as a spy, and
your neck will become acquainted with a noose
before you are many hours older."

Philippo then conferred with his comrades for a
few moments ; and I perceived that they all bent
ferocious looks of suspicion and distrust upon me :
but as I sate upon my horse in their midst, I
studied to preserve the calm demeanour of confi-
dence. I was nevertheless afraid lest tliey might
determine on dealing summarily in regard to me
without taking me before their chief at all.

" Conduct me into the presence of Marco
Uberti," I said to Philippo ; '■ and I will soon
convince him that I am no spy — but on the
contrary, that which I represent myself to be."

" Well, we will take you to the Captain," an-
swered Philippo ; " but if you are wise you will
do your best in tke interval to recollect the pass-
word : for no earthly proof which you can furnish
will counterbalance the omission of this indis-
pensable formality. Ah, by the bye ! were we
right in our conjecture that you had a companion
with you, and that he dashed away a few minutes
before we came up f"

'•' No," 1 answered. '•' I was alone, as you found
me."

Philippo said something in Italian to his com-
rades, several of whom gave utterance to angry
and vehement ejaculations; and Philippo, again
addressing me, observed in a stern voice, " You
are deceiving us ! One and all caught the sounds
of a horse dashing away into yun defile ; and if
our own steeds were not jaded, some of us would
have sped in pursuit. Matters are growing worse
and worse for you; because if you came w^ith
honourable intentions, your fellow-traveller must
have been equally straightforward — and where-
fore, then, should he have run away ? But if you
are a couple of spies, it is easy to conceive how
your comrade was suddenly smitten with fear-
while you, endowed with a bolder hanliliood, re-
mained to brave it out, Hon-ever, it is for the
Captain to decide."

The party now moved onward — I remaining in

64

JOSEPH WILMOI; OB, THB MEMOIRSOr A MAW-SBBVAXT.

♦ heir midst. "We soon entered the path which
traversed the wood in the vicinage of the tower ;
and though Philippo spoke not another word to
me, the banditti conversed amongst themselves —
the tones of their voices sounding ominous to my
ears. I felt that I was indeed in a most serious
dilemma : my ignorance of the pass-word was in-
vested with all the fatal importance which I had
anticipated — and was indeed regarded in a more
serious light still; while the unfortunate incident
of Volterra'a abrupt separation from me, had
strengthened suspicion against me, — thereby so
gravely augmenting my danger that I felt as if
nothing but a miracle could save me. But if I
were to die I should at least have the consolation
in my last moments of knowing that it was in the
endeavour to save the beloved Annabel my doom
■was thus encountered.

"We proceeded onward — the tower was reached
— I was ordered to dismount — and Philippo, with
two others of the banditti, conducted me into the
building. "We entered by the door communicating
with that little vestibule whence opened the cham-
ber where I had found Olivia Sackville ; and as
the light of the iron lamp suspended to the arched
ceiling of that vestibule showed me the heavy
bolts which secured that door, methought that
possibly they were drawn upon some of those
whom I had hoped to save. Perhaps Annabel
herself was there ? — and if so, it was but the
thickness of a door which separated us. Good
heavens ! were we soon to be separated for ever,
by an ignominious and horrible death overtaking
myself?

The brigands led me up a stone staircase, from
the summit of which branched off a passage with
an array of half-a-dozen doors; and now me-
thought that it might be one of them which held
Annabel captive. Philippo opened the first door :
and I was led forward into a spacious room, where
half-a-dozen more banditti were sitting at a table
covered with bottles and glasses, and at the head
of which the terrible iilarco TJberti was lounging in
an arm-chair. But on beholding some of his men
enter with a captive, he raised himself; and
emptying his glass, awaited with fierce looks until
I was brought close up to him. From the pene-
trating way in which he regarded me, I trembled
inwardly lest my disguise should be seen through :
I saw that Philippo was also eyeing me with the
most rigid scrutiny : I exerted an almost super-
human power to maintain a demeanour of con-
fidence— but as I happened to glance across the
table, I saw that the man who sate on the captain's
left band was the very one who had fastened on
my chain in the hut whence I escaped by Tolterra's
assistance. Se also was contemplating me with a
ferocious and dogged intentness. I reverted my
looks — and now I beheld the count-enance of the
sentinel whom I had overpowered, gagged, and
pinioned on that same memorable night 1 — yes, the
countenance which even through the gloom of the
hour I had seen convulsed with rage, and which
had indicated the savage wish on the part of the
miscreant at the time, that he had it in his power
to murder me. Tbe eyes of all these whom I thus
recognised one after another, were rivetted upon
me : I felt that my brain was swimming : but
with another efifort that was almost preternatural, I
summoned ijp the presence of mind that was

falling me— and with an appearance of outward
confidence I looked slowly around upon the
ruffians.

CHAPTER X C V.

THE EXA5IIXAT10X.

Philippo now addressed ilarco Uberti in ths
Italian language : but though I comprehended not
what was said, I knew very well that he was giving
an account of my capture and all the circum-
stances attending it. This interval afforded me
leisure to collect myself completely: for keenly
and vividly aware was I that if there were a
possibility of saving myself from death, it could
only be by confidently playing the part of Lano-
ver's accredited agent. The following dialogue
now took place between myself and Marco TJberti,
carried on through the medium of the interpreter

j Philippo: —

I "You say that you are sent hither by tte

I Englishman Lanover ?"

i "Yes," was my answer; "and I have the

\ proofs "

' '•' One moment, if you please ! Have you re-

I membered the pass-word ?"

j " !Xo. But," I added, with every outward dis-
play of a firm confidence, " I daresay I shall re-

; collect it presently:" — though heaven alone could

! tell how I was to call to mind a word I had never

I known.

I '• "^""hat are the proofs that you consider suffi-
cient to convince us of your sincerity ?"

i "In the first place," I said, producing my purse

j and taking out the bank bill, " here is the amount

: which Mr. Lanover agreed to pay for the business
done on his behalf"

Marco Uberti took the bill and examined it : I
watched his countenance eagerly, though without
appearing to be so intent in my gaze. But there
was nothing reassuring in his looks as he sud-
denly threw them upon me ; and folding up the
bill, he consigned it to his pocket. The examina*
tion was then continued through the medium of
Philippo.

" What business is it which we hcve done for
Mr. Lanover ?"

" You have captured," I answered, " a travelling

I equipage, containing five persons. These persons

' consist of an English Baronet, Sir Matthew Hesel-
tine by name— his daughter, Mrs. Lanover — and
his grand-daughter, Miss Bentinck — their valet
and their maid."

" And supposing that you are really Mr. Lano-
ver's agent — what instructions do you bring P"

" It is necessary I should explain to you," I
said, " that from a letter which Mr. Lanover found
at his hotel on returning thither after his inter-
view with a certain Philippo, on the night of the
loth instant, in Florence, he discovered that Sir
Matthew Heseltine had granted him conditions
which he could accept ; and therefore he has
despatched me to pay the amount agreed upon
with yourselves, and to desire that the travellers
be immediately allowed to pursue their way ^-ith-
out further hindrance or molestation."

••' Are you aware that they are penniless ?"

JOSEPH nflLMOT ; OR, THE MEMOrES OP A MAK-SEETANT.

85

" Certainly !" I responded. " I am aware, ac-
cording to the tenour of Marco Uberti's letter,
written in English by his secretary, the Philippo of

whom I have spoken "

"I am that Philippo. Go on."
"Well, as I was about to say," I continued,
"the letter which you wrote to Marco Uberti's
dictation, and which was directed to Mr. Lanover
at Eome, specified that all monies and valuables
found upon the persons of the prisoners, should
become the perquisites of your band. For this
reason I have brought a sum of money which is to
be placed at the disposal of Sir Matthew Heseltine
to bear his travelling expenses. Here is the sum :"
—and of the hundred pounds (speaking in English
money) which my purse contained, I deposited
eighty upon the table.

•' Were you instructed to place this money in
the hands of Sir Matthew Heseltine himself?"

" If you mean to inquire," I said, " whether I
am instructed to have an interview with the
prisoners, I answer in the negative. It is taken
for granted that they have received no informa-
tion from you as to the motives of their cap-
tivity ; and you can very easily believe that
under the altered circumstances which I have
mentioned, Mr. Lanover has no desire for it to be
known that he was the instigator of the treatment
they have received. He has full faith in the
honour of Marco Uberti in adhering to his com-
pact ; and he therefore trusts that you will afford
me an opportunity of assuring myself that this
money will be placed in Sir Matthew Heseltine's
hand. Mr. Lanover may possibly have fresh deal-
ings with you ; and as he has acted in good faith,
he expects the same to be shown on your side."

" Why did not Mr. Lanover immediately send
or come, to order the liberation of the prisoners,
after the amicable settling of his differences with
Sir Matthew Heseltine f"

"He met with an accident," I answered; "and
therefore could not come : nor could he imme-
diately find an agent whom he chose to trust in so
important a matter."

" You have seen the letter which was written to
Mr. Lanover at Rome. Eepeat its contents to the
best of your memory."

I did so with an accuracy which lold unfor-
tunately against me : for when I had finished,
Philippo sneeringly observed, "It is astonishing
that one who possesses so excellent a memory for
such an elaborate document, should have failed to
retain the pass-word."

At this moment the door opened; and as I
glanced round, I saw that it was Signor Volterra
who entered. He sauntered with an air of careless
indifference towards the head of the table; and
taking a seat, filled a glass with wine, which he
began to sip in the same negligent, idle way. As
a matter of course no look of recognition passed
between us : but yet somehow or another I felt
slightly more comfortable now that Volterra was
present.

"Will you persist," inquired Philippo, renewing
the examination according to the terms which
Marco Uberti dictated, — "will you persist in de-
claring that you had no one with you a few in-
stants before your capture ?"

"1 have journeyed alone the entire distance,"
was my response, firmly given.

" And now, can you tell us what Mr. Lanover's
object was in desiring the arrest and imprisonment
of his relatives ?"

" Certainly 1" I exclaimed. "He wished to
enforce certain conditions in respect to his father-
in-law Sir Matthew Heseltine. He had a deed
ready prepared for Sir Matthew's signature : but
the letter which he received, as I have already
stated, has rendered such a proceeding unneces-
sary."

Marco Uberti now spoke at some length in
Italian to those immediately around him ; and
when he had ceased, three or four addressed him
in their turns. They were evidently proffering
their opinions, — which to judge by their looks, I
considered but little favourable to myself: yet I
still preserved a calm and collected demeanour, — •
not of mere vulgar hardihood — but of dignified
manly confidence. When the bandit-chief had
listened to the sentiments of his myrmidons, he
addressed PhUippo in a serious strain, but keeping
his piercing eyes fixed on me the while. I knew
that it was a judgment he was pronouncing ; and
the solemnly awful conviction was forced upon me
that it was a death-sentence.

" Young man," said Philippo, now turning to-
wards me to interpret his Captain's speech, " listen
to the decree which has issued from the lips of
Marco Uberti. There are circumstances which
seem to tell in your favour : there are others which
tell still more strongly against you. These latter
weigh with us. We believe you to be a spy. Ac
cident may have rendered you acquainted with
Lanover's transactions with our chief: while him-
self, in a moment of confidence, and deeming you
to be a friend, may have explained them. But if
you really came as Lanover's accredited agent,
you would have known the pass-word. It is an
immutable law with us that any stranger pene-
trating into our midst without the knowledge of
the pass for the time being, shall be treated as a
spy and put to death. Right or wrong, this is
our invariable course ; and we do not feel inclined
to deviate from it now. Thus your ignorance of
the pass-word would be alone sufficient to condemn
you : but there is a circumstance which inclines us
to believe that in your case we are indeed acting
rightly. I allude to the fact that you had a com-
panion with you just now, and that you have per-
sisted in denying it. This bespeaks your treachery :
and how know we but that the individual who
repairs to Florence for the purpose of procuring
the money for the bank-bill which you have
brought, will not be arrested the instant he crosses
the threshold of the bank ? In short, all things
considered, it is Marco Uberti's decree that you at
once prepare for death."

" How long have I to live ?" I asked, with a
certain tightening at the heart, although I lost not
the firmness of my demeanour : " how long will
you accord me to prepare my soul for its appear-
ance before my Maker ?"

" We are not accustomed to great delays," re-
sponded Philippo : " and where a man is con-

demed as a spy "

" I deny that I am such !" I indignantly ex-
claimed. " If I had not unfortunately forgotten

the pass-word "

" Then everything would have been right !"
ejaculated Philippo. " But "

86

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OE, THE JTEMOIES OP A MAN-SERVANT.

'•' And if I could recollect it now ?" I said with
some degree of eagerness.

'• If even at the latest moment, before the noose
tightens round your throat, your tongue can give
utterance to that pass-word, you will be safe —
and you will be regarded as that which you re-
present yourself. For in this case," continued
Philippo, " the proper formalities would be ful-
filled ; and we should be inclined to look over the
circumstance of your being in companionship with
another. Indeed, if you thus far set yourself
right with us, it would be well nigh sufficient to
convince us that you had spoken ti-uthfully when
denjing that you had a companion ; and more-
over, that instead of a treacherous falsehood ex-
isting on your side, it is aa error which lies upon
our's."

" If I recollect the pass-word, all will be well !"
I exclaimed : and there was hope yet in my
heart.

But whence sprang that hoipe ? It was from
the fact that Angelo Volterra, while affecting to
sip his wine with an easy nonchalance, darted
upon me a significant glance, — a glance that was
as rapid and brief as the twinkling of an eye, and
yet sulficiently intelligible for me. It seemed to
afi'ord me encouragement : it forbade me from
yielding myself altogether up to despair.

"Come !" CKclaicned Philippo fiercely : " all this
bandying of words is merely to gain time — but
useles«^ : for it is out of the question that you
will )-<?eollect a pass-word which you evidently
never knew."

He tkea spoke a few words in Italian to llarco
Uberti, who thereupon made a sign ; and my arms
were clutched by the strong hands of three or four
of the banditti. Angelo Volterra at that instant
sprang up from his seat ; and with an assumed
air of savage jocularity, he said something iu his
own native tongue to the banditti — whereat they
all laughed.

" Our comrade here," observed Philippo, turning
to tne with a malignant expression of countenance
— but it was to Volterra that he alluded, — ''has
been in your native country ; and he has seen how
a noose is tio<l by your hangman — what do you
call him ?"

'• Jack Ketch, to be «ure !" exclaimed Volterra,
speaking in English : and turning upon me with
a fierce aspect, lie added in accents which seemed
to be full of ferocious menace, " Detestable spy
that you are ! my own hands shall reeve you a
noose as cuonfing as that which the Jack Ketch of
your native land is wont to manipulate for his
victims."

A stout cord was produced : Volterra took it —
and quick as lightning his glancing eyes signified
to n>e that I vpas to go down upon my knees. I
did so : for I comprehended full well that he was
■working in my interest. Scornful expressions, as
I could judge by the tone in which they were ut-
tered, burst from the lips of Marco Uberti and his
myrmidons ; and Philippo said to me in a taunt-
ing voice, " Ah ! now the courage which hitherto
sustained. you is failing at the sight cf the cord !"

Meanwhile Volterra had formed a noose ; and
as I knelt upon the floor, with my hands clasped
and my looks bent down, he stooped to adjust it
round my neck. The ruffians who a minute back
were, holding me in their powerful grasp, had

withdrawn their hands when I sank down to my
knees : for they were well assured that I could not
escape from them. Volterra placed the running
noose, as I have said, round my neck : he adjusted
the knot under the left ear — he stooped lower still
as if to convince himself that it was properly
placed — at that very instant some brutal jest from
Marco Uberti's lips raised a loud guffaw on the
part of the banditti — and under the cover of that
coarse din, Volterra rapidly whispered a word in
my ear.

The next instant lie drew back ; and it was evi-
dent to me that he had so much faith in my pre-
sence of mind, my discretion, and ray shrewdness,
to be well aware that I should not at once pro-
claim the pass-word and thus raise the suspicion
that he might have whispered it — but that I
should let matters progress a little further, and
then appear to be all in a moment inspired with
the recollection of the word that was to save me.
Again was I seized upon by the banditti : they
hurried me towards the door, — the cord dangling
from my neck, Down the staircase we went— out
into the open air : Marco Uberti, Volterra, Phi-
lippo,—every one indeed who was ere now in the
banqueting-room, accompanied me on my way to
the nearest tree, to which it was intended to hang
me up. Under the bough of a huge tree was I
made to atop short : the rope was tossed over it-
two or three of the ruffians caught hold of the ex-
tremity in order to drag me up when I sud-
denly ejaculated the word, " Fabiano .'" "

Those who had just clutched the end of the
cord dropped it in astonishment from their hands :
ejaculations of surprise burst from the lips of
Marco Uberti and some others : — then there was
a hasty consultation amongst them — but I was
not kept many moments in suspense — for Philippo
said, '•' It is well ! we are satisfied. But, by
heaven ! never was man so nearly suffering for the
shortness of his memory I"

" When a man looks death in the face," I an-
swered, "it is a spectacle sufficient to startle up
whatsoever slumbering recollection might possibly
save him."

" Come !" said Philippo ; " as I belped to hurry
you on towards the doom you've so narrowly es-
caped, the least I can do is to divest you of this
uncomfortable neckcloth."

Hereupon he slipped off the rope ; and now
Marco Uberti shook my hand with a rough cor-
diality. We returned to the banqueting room :
wine was proffered me— and I gladly accepted it ;
for, as the reader may suppose, I stood iu need of
such refreshment after the exciting, trying, peril-
ous scenes through which I had been hurried.

" And now what are your wishes ?" said Philippo
tome. '"Eepeat them— and we are in readiness
to fulfil them."

" Have the goodness," I answered, " to let the
horses be put to the travelling-carriage — restore
the prisoners to liberty — and afi'ord me an oppor-
tunity of slipping the money which I have
brought, into the hand of Sir Matthew HeseU
tine."

'• But there are no postilions for the horses," re-
plied Philippo.

'• Sir Matthew Heseltine's valet," I rejoined,
" will doubtless be only too glad to act in the
capacity of postilion, wlien it is to convey the

JOSEPH WIXMOT; OB, THE JTEMOIKS OF A MAN-SERVANT.

87

family from the place of their prisonage. Only
pive him a hint as to the road he is to take— and
leave him to manage as best he can. It will be
sufficient for me that I can return to Mr. Lanover
and report the faithful fulfilment of my mission."

" Well, be it so," answered Philippo. " But
how do you propose to place that money in the
old Englishman's hand?"

" When the carriage is in readiness, and he and
Lis family are seated inside, lot me know."

Philippo departed to execute my instructions ;
and I remained in the banqueting-room with the
banditti. The bank-notes I had laid upon the
table in the course of my examination, were still
there. I took them — enveloped them in a piece
of paper — and with a pencil which I had about
me, 1 wrote on that paper, but in a feigned hand,
the words — "Beware of Lanover: it is he who
was the author of your captivity !"

I heard the sounds of the carriage and the
horses being taken out beneath the windows of
the tower; and in about twenty minutes Philippo
re-appeared. I accompanied him from the room ;
and he informed me that everything was in readi-
ness for the departure of the released prisoners —
that the valet had undertaken to guide a pair of
horses— but that he could not by himself manage
the four— and therefore it was proposed that with
this limited equipage they should proceed to the
nearest posting-town. I asked Philippo if there
were any lights to the carriage, or if any of the
banditti had lamps or torches ? — and he informed
me that he had purposely taken care that there
should be nothing of the sort. In a word, the
man was now as courteously attentive and con-
siderate as he had a little while back been ferocious
and implacable.

We emerged from the tower, and through the
obscurity of the night — for the sky had grown
overclouded — I perceived the equipage at a short
distance. Oh, how near I was to Annabel! — and
yet not to be able to make myself known to her !
The darkness was all but so complete that there
was no fear of her catching a sufficient view of my
countenance to enable her, with the penetrating
eyes of love, to see through its disguise of artificial
hair and darkening tintj and therefore without
apprehension on this score, did I advance up to
the carriage window. One of my objects in having
stipulated for this proceeding, was that I might
convince myself that all the prisoners were really
released, and not one kept back : my other object
was to have the certainty that the money reached
Sir Matthew's hand and was not intercepted by
the outlaws. Yes — and perhaps too there was
another object, or rather a hope — namely, that of
obtaining a glimpse, however dim, of the coun-
tenance of Annabel.

Disguising my voice by torturing it into the
roughest accents it was capable of assuming, I
said, " Here ! your hand !"

Sir Matthew instinctively stretched it forth : I
placed the packet in it : the piercing glance which
1 flung into the vehicle showed me that there were
four persons— the Baronet and three females;
and one I knew to be the adored Annabel. That
the other two were Mrs. Lanover and the maid, I
bad no doubt. I stood hastily aside again ; and
in a low tone to Philippo, said, "Let them de-
pjtrt."

The word was accordingly given by the bandit ;
and the equipage rolled away, — Sir Matthew's
valet acting as postilion. My heart leaped with
joy at the idea of having thus achieved the eman-
cipation of those in whom I was so much in-
terested, and one of whom was so inestimably dear
to me ; and yet the next instant I heaved a long-
drawn sigh at the thought of having suffered
Annabel to depart without even exchanging bo
much as the pressure of a hand.

Philippo now offered me accommodation at the
tower until the following day : but I thouiiht that
I could not too speedily get from the midst of that
nest of hornets. I accordingly expressed my
thanks — but assured him that I had faithfully
promised Mr. Lanover to return with the least;
possible delay and report the results of my mission.
My horse was therefore led out : I mounted the
animal — and having taken leave of Philippo, rode
away from the tower. I took the same route by
which I had arrived, and which indeed was the
only one known to me. I could scarcely believe
that I was thus in complete security : I could
scarcely believe that all which had happened
during the last two hours, was otherwise than a
dream. If I shuddered at the fearful risks I had
run, infinitely greater was my rejoicing at the
deed which I had accomplished. To have saved
Annabel and her relatives — to have liberated theua
from that den — was an achievement well worthy
of the most exulting self-congratulations. I did
not choose to return to the village where I had
halted during the day, as my horse was sure to be
recognised even if I myself were not ; and that
circumstance would be fraught with suspicion. I
therefore took another road, when some miles
distant from the tower — and pursued it at random,
with the hope of reaching some hamlet.

As I continued my way, I thought much of
Angelo Volterra. A mystery that appeared to be
impenetrable, hung around this man. I could
not believe that he himself was a bandit ; and yet
I found him the companiou of banditti. How
was it, then, that this singular personage who was
so ready to help, to liberate, and to save when-
ever he he had the power, could consent to herd
with a gang of outlaws? — how was it that he who
in more instances than one, had displayed so much
generosity, dwelt among these desperadoes? I
did not see him after leaving the banqueting-
room with Philippo to witness the departure of
the carriage ; and when in that room after my
liberation from the threatening noose, he had af-
forded me no opportunity of thanking him, even
by a glance, for the immense service he had ren«
dered me. It was evident by all his actions that
he was compelled to maintain the most scrupulous
caution, and that he knew his life would not be
worth an instant's purchase if he were suspected
by the horde of ruffians of betraying or thwarting
them in any one single thing. But again recurred
the question — what was he doing there ? Pro-
found was the mystery : would it ever be solved ?
While thus occupied with my thoughts, I roda
on in the darkness of the night ; and I had
achieved, as far as I could calculate, about a dozen
miles, when I reached a little hamlet consisting of
some twenty cottages. One was an inn— or what
would be called in England an ale-house of the
humblest description; and I halted at the door.

JOSEPH WILilOT; OE, TUE SIFIIOIRS OF A MANSGRTANT.

All the windows were dark: my summons con-
tinued for several minutes unanswered : I knocked
louder still — a head was thrust from an upper case-
ment— and a man spoke to me gruffly in Italian.
Not being able to understand him, I answered in
French : he was equally at a loss to comprehend
me : but I could judge from his tones that he re-
fused to give me admittance — though whether
through fear, or whether because he had really no
accommodation for myself and my horse, I could
not conjecture. He closed the window ; and I was
bewildered how to act. Both myself and my
animal were much jaded and stood in need of re-
freshment and rest. If I continued my wander-
ings in the darkness, I might encounter some
accident — or I might penetrate into those wildest
parts of the Apennines where no human beings
dwelt : I could not therefore willingly abandon
the chance of obtaining accommodation in this
hamlet. Selecting the best-looking cottage, as
well as I could judge through the obscurity, I
knocked at the door. A female presently answered
me from the window; and, to be brief, I found
there was no chance of obtaining hospitality there.
Disheartened by my failure, I rode slowly away
from the hamlet — and at a walking pace continued
my journey for the next two hours. At the ex-
piration of this interval I entered a village ; and
looking about for the inn — if there were one —
I found the suspicion creeping into my mind that
the place was not altogether unfamiliar to me:
but when I discovered the house of entertainment
that I sought, this suspicion was all in a moment
confirmed. A circuitous route had brought me
to the very village which I had intended to
avoid !

The reader will comprehend that this in fact was
the place where I had halted when on my way to
the robbers' tower, and in the neighbourhood of
which I had assumed my disguise by the aid of
the friendly mountebank. I was too much ex-
hausted to think of proceeding further ; and more-
over the continuation of my journey would have
been a wanton cruelty towards the animal I
bestrode. I accordingly knocked : and the door
was presently opened by an elderly female domestic,
whom I had not before seen. I addressed her in
French : she could not comprehend me— but she
made signs to intimate that I must act as my own
ostler. With a light in her hand, she guided me
to the stable ; and when I had duly cared for the
steed, I gave her to understand that I wanted re-
freshments for myself. She took me to the kitchen,
where I speedily dispatched a very hearty meal ; and
then she conducted me to a chamber. Quickly
disapparelling myself, I got to bed ; and scarcely
did 1 lay my head upon the bolster, when I sank
into a profound sleep.

CHAPTER XCVI.

CAPTAIN KATMOKD.

I WAS awakened by a strange noise ; and starting
up in bed, found that it was broad daylight: but
the little chamber was invaded by all tlie male
domestics of the inn — consisting of the waiter, a
couple of ostlers, and a gardener. The lanalord

appeared behind tbem ; and he was accompanied
by an elderly man and an armed police official.
For the first few moments my thoughts were too
much confused to enable me to form a conjecture
as to what was the meaning of this intrusion : but
as the truth presently flashed in unto my mind,
I burst out into the merriest peal of laughter I
had indulged in for a long time past. The posse
gave vent to ejaculations of indignant surprise ; as
they naturally believed I was treating with a reck-
less bravado the crime of which they fancied m©
to be guilty. The police-official rushed in to seize
upon me: but I called out in French for the
landlord to stand forward.

" What does all this mean P" I asked, but still
scarcely able to keep my countenance.

'•That voice! — I ought to know it!" said the
landlord, surveying me with an air of the most
ludicrous bewilderment.

'■ What am I accused of ?" I inquired : for 1
was in one of those kind of mischievous humours
which made me enjoy the perplexity my disguise
was occasioning.

'•' Of stealing the horse belonging to another
traveller — and perhaps murdering that traveller :"
— but still the landlord, as he spoke, continued to
regard me in a bewildered way.

'•' In plain terms, then," I said, " I am accused
of stealing my own horse and of murdering
myself!"

, '•' Well, it must be you, sir, after all !" cried the
landlord, in amazement. " But — but "

" These whiskers — and this moustache," I said,
laughing heartily ; " and this tinted complexion,
naturally puzzle you. The truth is, my good
friend, my false hair will not come off without
peeling away the skin, unless I use hot water ; and
I can assure you that on arriving here just now,
I was too much fatigued even to think of it."

"The Mayor, sir," replied the landlord, indi-
cating the elderly individual as he spoke, " will
require some explanation — as the circumstance is
suspicious."

'■' The explanation simply is that I chose to
penetrate into the banditti's stronghold, to effect
the liberation of some fi-iends of minej and in
this I fully succeeded. As for my disguise, — if
the mountebanks who performed here yesterday,
still happen to be in the neighbourhood, there is
one of them who can give you a satisfactory
account."

" Well, sir, I am sure that it is all right," an-
swered the landlord ; " and I will be your
guarantee to the Mayor. But you must confess
that when your horse was recognized, and the
female- servant assured me that it was quite a dif-
ferent person whom the animal bore hither, from
the one who was here yesterday, it was natural I
should acquaint the authorities with the circum-
stance."

He then spoke to the Mayor; and the posse
immediately withdrew. I was still exceedingly
tired — and remained in bed for some hours longer.
When I arose I removed the false whiskers and
moustache by means of hot water : but my tinted
complexion defied the influence of soap. How-
ever, I knew perfectly well, from the assurances
the friendly mountebank had given me, that in a
few days my skin would be of its natural colour
again ; and as the secret was now known at the

JOSEPH WllMOT ; OE, THE MEMOIES OP A MAN-SEEVANT.

89

village-hostelry, I deteru^iued upon remaining
there until the artificial swarthiness produced by
the herbal dye should have passed away. I wrote
a letter to Captain Eaymoud, briefly acquainting
him with the success of my enterprise, and inform-
ing him that circumstances which I would explain,
prevented me from returning at once to Florence.
On the fifth day the tint had almost completely
disappeared from my face, neck, and hands ; and I
was enabled to set out towards the Tuscan capital.
I avoided Pistoja, as I did not choose to make
my appearance at the hostelry there, for fear lest
Mr. Lanover, having regained his consciousness,
and learning from my personal description who it
was that had examined his pocket-book, should in
his rage and suspicion accuse me of having taken
his bank-bill : though on my own conscience the
matter rested very lightly indeed — for I had after
ail only appropriated the value to the same use
64.

as that for which he had destined it. I reached
Florence in safety, and was kindly welcomed by
Captain Raymond. I gave him an explanation of
uiy adventure, carefully suppressing however the
name of Angelo Volterra : he listened with tho
most unfeigned interest, and applauded me for my
perseverance, my skill, and my fortitude in carry-
ing out my aim.

I now relapsed into a quiet mode of life once
more ; and six weeks passed away. During this
interval I noticed that Captain Eaymond was
perceptibly increasing his attentions towards the
Hon. Miss Olivia Sackville ; and I pitied her, —
for I could full well understand how distasteful
they must be to her. In a conversation which I
had with Lord Eingwold's valet, he said, " I have
good reason to know that my lord and her lady-
ship are pleased with the Captain's attentions to-
wards Miss Olivia."

90

JOSEPH 'WTLMOT; OB, THE MEMOIES OP A MAST-SEEVANT.

" How 80 ?" I inquired.

" Because," responded the valet, " Bessy, her
ladyship's maid, happened to overhear her lady-
ship chide Miss Olivia yesterday for her coldness
towards the Captain. Miss Olivia said nothing ;
and her ladyship went on speaking. She desired
her daughter to observe that Captain Eaymond
is well off— that he belongs to an excellent family
• — that he has the certainty of becoming much
richer than he even now is — and that he is not so
very remote from the chance of inheriting a
peerage. But still Miss Olivia continued silent ;
and her ladyship reminded her that her father's
means are limited — that she is now past four-and-
twenty — and that she ought not to discourage the
attentions of one who would form an excellent
match for her. Bessy heard no more: but you
see, Joseph, it is quite clear that my lord and her
ladyship are favourable to your master's preten-
sions— and I dare say we shall have a wedding
soon."

" But if Miss Olivia will not accept Captain
Eaymond," I observed, " do you think that Lord
and Lady Ringwold are capable of exercising their
influence tyrannically ?"

"No — I do not think they are," replied the
valet : " but I have no doubt that they would go
to the very utmost extent of persuasion."

A few days after this conversation, I was ascend-
ing the stairs of that compartment of the hotel
which we inhabited, — when I perceived Captain
Eaymond issue from the Eingwolds' drawing-
room ; and the paleness of his countenance, as well
as the agitation of his manner, convinced me that
something had occurred. He did not notice me —
but hastened across the landing, and entering his
own sitting-room, closed the door violently. About
a couple of hours afterwards I had a conversation
with the valet ; and he said " What do you think,
Joseph ? Captain Eaymond has proposed to Miss
Olivia, and has been refused !"

"Ah!" I ejaculated: for this announcement
confirmed the suspicion which was already floating
in my mind. " How do you know ?"

" Bessy, her ladyship's maid, has just been tell-
ing me all about it," rejoined the valet. " She
could not help overhearing something that took
place after Captain Eaymond had proposed to
Miss Olivia and had been refused. It seems that
the Captain had previously spoken to Lord and
Lady Eingwold, and had obtained their assent : but
Miss Olivia rejected him — and when pressed by
your disappointed master, she frankly avowed
that her affections were already engaged. She
almost immediately afterwards informed her parents
of the answer she had given ; and her ladyship be-
sought her to avow who was the object of her love.

She did and who, think you, Joseph, is the

possessor of Miss Olivia's heart ?"

" You must tell me," I said, affecting the com-
pletest ignorance upon the subject.

" Signor Volterra," answered the valet.

"Indeed !" I ejaculated.

" And after all, it is not to be wondered at,"
continued the valet : " for though yoiu* master is
good-looking enough, — yet the Italian, you must
admit, is far handsomer. Besides, Captain Eay-
mond is in his thirty-sixth year ; and Signor Volterra
is only seven-and-twenty. To be sure, the Captain
is no doubt richer, and he belongs to a fine old

family : but still all this has got nothing to do with
the affections of a young lady's heart."

" And what said my lord and her ladyship," I
inquired, "when Miss Olivia made that confes-
sion ?"

" I cannot say," replied the valet : " for Bessy
could overhear no more."

At this moment I was summoned to Captain
Raymond's apartment : but I now found him per-
fectly calm and self-possessed, and with a de-
meanour expressive of that manly dignity with
which he might naturally be supposed to cover the
disappointment he had sustained.

"We are about to leave Horenoe immediately,
Joseph," he said : " hasten the preparations — for
in an hour we shall start."

I obeyed his orders without hetraying that I
comprehended wherefore they were issued : it was
now three o'clock in the afternoon — and at four
we took our departure in a post-chaise. For rea-
sons known to the reader, I did not wish to pass
through Pistoja in re -crossing the Apennines; and
I was therefore pleased to learn that we were to
proceed in quite a contrary direction — that we
were to halt for the night at Dicomano, which was
more to the east along the Apennine range — and
that thence, on the morrow, our route was to bo
pursued towards Eavenna, from which city tho
Captain purposed to proceed to Venice.

It was about seven o'clock in the evening when
we entered Dicomano : and we stopped at the prin-
cipal hotel. This was so full of guests that a pri-
vate sitting-room was not to be had ; and it was
even with difficulty we could obtain the promise
of sleeping-apartments. Captain Raymond was
accordingly compelled to take his dinner in the
coffee-room : — where there were several other tra-
vellers, belonging to different nations, and two or
three English. It was about an hour after our
arrival that I had occasion to enter the coffee-room
to ask the Captain for the keys of his trunks, in
order to take out such things as he required for
his toilet, — when I heard one of the English gen-
tlemen just alluded to, vehemently and wrathfully
describing how he had been captured by Marco
Uberti's band, and kept a prisoner at the tower
for five whole days, until he had procured the ran-
som they insisted upon having. This was all I heard :
but Captain Eaymond gave me a significant look
and a half-smile, as much as to imply that I also
could tell a tale, if I chose, relative to that formid-
able bandit and his outlaw horde, whose deeds were
thus evidently growing more and more daring.

It was about an hour later still, that as I was
lounging in front of the hotel. Captain Eaymond
and the English gentleman of whom I have just
spoken, came out to smoke their cigars. At that
very instant an individual on horseback rode up
to the hotel; and as the light of the lamp fell
upon his countenance, I recognised Angelo Vol-
terra.

" One of the brigands, by heaven !" vociferated
the English gentleman. " Help ! help ! — to
horse !"

" A brigand ? nonsense !" exclaimed Captain
Eaymond. " He is an acquaintance of mine.
But — ah ! what does this mean ?"

And well indeed might the Captain utter
this latter ejaculation : for Angelo Volterra, sud-
denly urging his horse to its utmost speed, gal-

JOSEPH WILMOT; OE, THE MBMOIES OF A MAN-SEEVANT.

91

loped away from the front of the hotel. Such
was the velocity of his flight that in a few mo-
ments the quick clattering of the hoofs upon the
atones ceased to be audible.

"I tell you, my dear sii*," vociferated the
irritable English gentleman — and he gesticulated
violently too, — " that this is one of the banditti.
I saw him at the tower — I cannot be mistaken

he is a person too remarkable, even if seen

only for an instant, not to be recognised again.
Help, help ! why don't they raise a hue and cry ?"

Numbers of persons came rushing forth from
the hotel — others stopped in the street — and the
intelligence spread like wildfire that one of Marco
Uberti's band had just been recognised, but that
he fled precipitately. The excitement was im-
mense : but, as it speedily appeared, there was no
inclination on the part of any persons who col-
lected on the spot, to take horse and pursue the
fugitive. The town was a very small one, and
had but two or three police officials, who were not
to be found when they were wanted; and thus
there was no pursuit at all.

Captain Raymond walked aside with the iras-
cible Englishman ; and they conversed together for
nearly half-an-hour. During this interval I was
agitated with the most painful thoughts: I felt
assured that I should be questioned by Captain
Raymond ; and what could I say ? I had pledged
myself to Volterra to keep his secret on condition
that he performed that part of the compact which
I myself had proposed in reference to Miss Sack-
ville ; and moreover, I was bound by every tie ol
gratitude to shield and spare him — for I owed
him my liberation on the first occasion of my pre-
scence in the bandits' stronghold, and my life on
the last. Besides, I had the deep conviction,
from the circumstances which had occurred, as
well as from the expressions which had fallen from
his own lips, that Volterra was not himself a
bandit, though he consorted with those outlaws.
Yes — this was my conviction, notwithstanding the
deep mystery which hung around him. But, on
the other hand, how could I imdertake his defence
— how could I say a word in his vindication ? — for
if I told all I knew, and if I confessed that it was
through his* agency Miss Sackville and myself
escaped in the first instance and my life was saved
in the second, — the tidings would inevitably obtain
immense publicity — they would reach the ears of
Marco Uberti and his band — and the generous-
hearted Angelo Volterra would fall a victim to
their rage.

All these reflections agitated and distressed me
most cruelly during the half-hour that Captain
Raymond and the irascible gentleman were walk-
ing apart together. I had no doubt that my
master was gleaning every particular in respect
to that gentleman's captivity at the banditti's
stronghold, and that he was assuring himself by
all possible means that there was no mistake as to
the identity of Angelo Volterra with the per-
sonage whom he had seen amongst the outlaws in
that place. At length their discourse ended ; and
the Captain, accosting me, said, " Joseph, I wish
to speak to you."

He led the way to his bed-chamber ; and clos-
ing the door, he said to me in a firm, decisive
voice, " Tou must tell me whether you also saw
Signer Volterra at the banditti's tower f "

I could not look him full in the face and give
utterance to a falsehood. I felt that such an un-
truth would be a most wilful one, and very dif-
ferent under all circumstances from that bold
denial which I had given to the banditti in respect
to whether I had a companion with me at the
moment previous to my capture. I therefore
thought— and the idea struck me all in an instant
— that I had better trust entirely to the Captain's
generosity; and I said, "I will reveal certain
things if you promise me not to publish them to
the world."

For a moment Captain Raymond's countenance
flushed with indignation at the idea of conditions
being imposed upon him by his own domestic :
but the next instant that glow of haughty anger
passed away ; and he said, " If you mean that I
am to keep the seal of completest silence upon
my lips, I will give no pledge of the kind : but if
you mean that I am only to use guardedly and
cautiously whatsoever you may reveal to me, I
cannot hesitate to yield to your stipulation. Ifow,
understand me ! It has come to my knowledge
that Miss Olivia Sackville has bestowed her afi'ec-
tions upon this Angelo Volterra : I am a friend of
her parents — but even if I were not, do you think
that I would suffer any young lady under such
circumstances to remain in ignorance of the cha-
racter of him, to whom her heart is given ? Tell
me the truth, Joseph : — it was Volterra who
efiected her release through your agency ? and it
was Volterra who assisted you in your own subse-
quent enterprise ?"

" I cannot deny it — no, I cannot !" I answered.
" And now I appeal to your generosity on behalf
of that man who saved Miss Sackville from the
horrible fate that was in store for her — that of
becoming a vile outlaw's bride !"

" Yes— you shall not appeal in vain," answered
Captain Raymond. " I think I comprehend your
motives. Were all this known, Volterra's life
would be sacrificed to the rage of his comrades ?"

"That is my motive, sir," I rejoined. "But
you should not call them comrades .- for I will
stake my existence that Angelo Volterra is no
bandit !"

"You are of a romantic disposition, Joseph,"
said the Captain, with a slight smile ; " and you
generously put faith in whatsoever florid and
plausible representations the fellow has made to
you. But I," continued Raymond, resuming the
gravity of his demeanour, "am a man of the
world, and not to be similarly deluded. Indeed,
without meaning to hurt your feelings, I must say
that I should be insulting my own common sense,
if I were to fancy for a moment that one who
dwells with banditti is not a bandit himself. Ah !
and perhaps it was he who gave such information
to Marco and his horde which enabled him to at-
tack our carriages when we were crossing the
Apennines ?— perhaps he intended that Miss Sack-
ville should be carried off in order that he might
have the credit of liberating her ?"

"You forget, sir," I answered, "that he kept al-
together in the back ground — that he used me as
the instrument of that liberation — and that up to
this very moment Miss Sackville is in ignorance of
who the friendly bandit — as I chose at the time
to describe him — actually was."

"True!" said the Captain. "However, he ia

92

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OB, THE MEMOIES 01? A MAN-SERVANT

Jot the less a bandit for all this ; and jou must be
perfectly well aware that though I will keep my
promise in avoiding to give publicity to what I
now know, I shall lose no time in acquainting Lord
and Lady Eingwold with the character of this
Angelo Volterra."

Having thus spoken, Captain Eaymond dis-
missed me from his presence ; and when I retired
to rest, it was a long time before sleep visited my
eyes — for I continued to be harassed with the
most painful thoughts. Not that my belief in
Volterra's integrity, despite all the suspicious cir-
cumstances which surrounded him, was at all
staggered by Captain Eaymond's utter incredulity
on the same point ; and as for my romantic no-
tions, as he was pleased to call them, I flattered
myself that I only took a common-sense view of
the whole circumstances, considering the strong
reasons I had td entertain a good opinion of "Vol-
terra, and to avoid being entirely influenced by
certain appearances which seemed to toll against
him.

At an early hour on the following morning, the
hotel-porter came up to my chamber while I was
dressing, and gave me a note. I opened it ; and
found that it contained the following words,
written in English :—

"I am diatreaaed almost to madness— and you can
comprehend wherefore. I have now every reason to
apprehend that a certain statement will be made in a
particular quarter— and, Oh, the snguiBh that it will
prodnce ! Bnt yoa, I am convinced, do not believe that
I really am what I may aeem to be t Were it not for
tha solemn pledge I gave you, I should at once endea-
vour to obtain an interview with a certain lady, and
beseech her to suspend her judgment with regard to
me. Bnt I respect that pledge ; and is not this another
proof of honour and integrity which I am affording
you ? I therefore leave the matter in your hands. That
Captain Kaymondwill lose no time in returning to Flo-
rence to state what has come to his knowledge, I feel con-
vinced. Yon therefore will be soon in Florence again ; and
I trust to your good ctBces to procure that suspenaion of
opinion for which I myself would plead were I not bound
by my pledge to you. If I dare ask such a favour — if
you can sufficiently suspend your own judgment con-
cerning me,— the boon I would crave is that you will
show this letter to the lady whom for prudence' sake I
do not name. And, oh ! I beseech that her opinion may
be suspended with regard to me ! In no sense am I
what I seem. &od grant that circnmstaaces may so far
prove favourable as shortly to enable me to render my
meaning clearly intelligible, and fling away this odions
veil of mystery which now envelopes me. Never would
I have reminded you that yon owe me your liberty and
also your life, were it not that I am constrained to
adopt all means to move and interest you in my behalf:
therefore on those grounds do I now appeal to your
generosity — your goodness ! "

I was profoundly afi'ected by the perusal of this
letter ; and when I had finished it, my first im-
pulse was to show it to Captain Eaymond, — trust-
ing to his magnanimity to put the most favour-
able construction on its contents. But then I re-
collected that he was by no means an impartial
person to judge of Angelo Volterra: for in the
Italian he beheld a successful rival with regard to
the afi'ections of Olivia Sackville — and even with
the most generous dispositions there is an apti-
tude for prejudice towards a rival — a readiness to
catch up and use aught to his disparagement.
Therefore I resolved to abstain from showing the
letter to Captain Eaymond : but equally deter-

mined was I to fulfil Volterra's bcheets to the ut-
most of my power.

Immediately on proceeding to the Captain's
apartment, he informed me that we were about to
return to Florence : but he said not another word
in respect to Signer Volterra — neither did he
appear to know that I had received any letter.
I therefore concluded that Angelo had instructed
his emissary, whoever he were, to bribe the porter
of the hotel to deliver the note privately and
secretly into my hand.

We retraced our way to Florence. I sate out-
side the post-chaise — and therefore had no oppor-
tunity of judging by my master's demeanour
whether he now entertained any hope of being
enabled to supplant Angelo Volterra in the afi'ec-
tions of Olivia Sackville. So far, however, as I
could judge from his looks before we started, I
fancied that there was a certain degree of satis-
faction— though scarcely perceptible — beneath the
calm dignity of his bearing. Alas, poor Olivia ! —
and I said to myself that before the day was out
her heart would doubtless have experienced a
severe trial. But would she believe Volterra to
be entirely unworthy of the love she had bestowed
upon him ? No — I could not think it : for when
I recalled to mind the discourse that I had over-
heard between them in the garden of the village-
hotel on the Modena side of the Apennine range,
I said to myself, " Her love is too deeply seated to
be thus readily destroyed !"

The post-chaise entered Florence at about noon ;
and as it drove up to the hotel, I felt my heart
fluttering as much as if the whole proceeding in-
timately concerned myself in the keenest and most
painful manner. The domestics of the establish-
ment were surprised to see us return ; and we
were at once put in possession of the apartments
we had left in the afternoon of the previous day.
The valet and the lady's-maid attached to the
Eingwolds were also astonished at my master's
speedy and most unexpected revisit to the Tuscan
capital : but I gave no explanation — I afi'ected to
be ignorant of his motives— and yet, with all the
painful feelings that agitated in my breast, it
was no easy matter to practise this little dis-
simulation. .

CHAPTER XCVIL

I HAD no opportunity for some hours of judging
what took place, — as Captain Eaymond, almost
immediately after our arrival, sought an interview
with Lord and Lady Eingwold, and remained
closeted with them for a considerable time. Then
he retired to his own apartment, to which I was
not summoned during the rest of the day, he
having no need for me. But between four and
five in the afternoon, I encountered Lord Eing-
wold's valet, who said to me, " What on earth is
the matter, Joseph ? I am sure that you know
something, but you will not tell me. Bessy says
that Miss Olivia is overwhelmed with grief— that
she has retired to her own chamber, and is giving
way to her affliction."

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OE, THE MEM0IE3 OF A MA:M-3ERVANT.

93

" I daresay," I replied, " that Bessy will sooner
or later enlighten you on tlie subject : but for my
part I know nothing. The Captain suddenly made
up his mind to return to Florence — and of course
I obeyed without questioning him."

" To be sure," answered the valet : " but still I
thought you might possibly know why he did come
back, and that from motives of delicacy you hesi-
tated to tell me. His lordship, when I saw him
just now, seemed much cut up ; and her ladyship
is indisposed. That something has happened is
evident enough."

At this moment the valet was summoned away j
and soon afterwards Bessy, the lady's-maid, came
and beckoned me aside into a room where wc might
be alone together.

'•■ Will you promise, Joseph," she said, and
she looked much distressed — " that you will not
breathe to a single soul the words I am about to
speak ?"

" It all depends," I answered. "And yet I do
not think I can have much hesitation in giving you
such a promise."

"You know I would not ask you to pledge
yourself to anything wrong," she replied.

"Well then, I promise," I said.

" Miss Olivia wants to speak to you," continued
the lady's-maid : " but she is trembling lest you
should think her request strange— or that you
might happen to mention it to your master."

" Miss Olivia need not entertain either of those
apprehensions," I rejoined. " If Miss Olivia re-
quire any information to which I can assist her,
there is nothing strange in her sending for me ;
and as for my being a tell-tale, I am not aware
that there has ever been anything in my conduct
to justify such a suspicion."

" You need not speak so gravely, Joseph," an«
swered the maid : " there was no intention to
wound your feelings. Miss Olivia has made a con-
fidante of me : she is dreadfully distressed — and if
you could tell her anything to relieve her mind, I
am sure it would be a perfect charity."

" When and where am I to see Miss Sackville ?"
I inquired.

" Now — and in the breakfast parlour," responded
the maid. " There is no fear of interruption.
Hasten you there at once !"

I accordingly proceeded to the room which she
had mentioned ; and I found Miss Sackville
anxiously and tremblingly awaiting my presence.
Her countenance was pale, and bore the traces of
recent weeping. I closed the door gently and ad-
vanced towards her.

" You must think this step that I am taking
most extraordinary," she said, evidently at a loss
how to introduce the topic on which she desired to
speak. " But no ! — you will make allowances for
me "

" If I can render you any service, Miss Sack-
pille," I answered, " I shall be only too glad."

She bent upon me a look of heartfelt gratitude ;
and then, with a mighty effort to stifle a sob that
was convulsing her bosom, she said, " Tell me,
Joseph — tell me — is it indeed true— that dreadful
tale which I have heard ? is it true, I ask, that
Signor Volterra "

Here she stopped short : for the conviilsing sob
burst forth, and she could not complete her sen-
tence.

" Miss Sackville," I answered, hastening to re-
lieve her from suspense, " rest assured that Signor
Volterra will yet satisfactorily clear up this strange
and dreadful mystery."

A cry of joy burst from Olivia's lips : she almost
started from her seat, as if to rush forward and
grasp my hand in token of the ineffable gratitude
that she experienced for this announcement : but
her feelings overpowered her — and clasping her
own fair hands, she burst into tears. But they
were not altogether tears of sorrow: no — there
was delight in the emotions that were thus gush-
ing forth ; and her lips murmured a few words of
thanksgiving for the hopeful assurance which had
just greeted her ears.

"Will you be pleased to read this. Miss Sack-
ville ?" I said. " It was addressed to me :" — and
I placed Angelo Volterra's letter in her hand.

Oh, with what avidity did her eyes glance over
its contents ! — what anxious suspense, what min-
gled grief and hope, what strangely blended
affliction and joy, were depicted upon her coun-
tenance, where the colour went and came in rapid
transitions ! When she had perused the letter, she
hesitatingly, bashfully, and blushingly proffered it
to me again. I saw that she yearned to keep it,
but did not dare ask my permission to do so ; and
I said, " Possibly, Miss Sackville, you might like
to read it once more when at your perfect leisure :
and you had better retain it."

She thanked me with an expressive glance ; and
again running her eyes over the contents of the
billet, she secured it in the folds of her dress.

" Yes," she said, " opinion must indeed be sus-

pended But, no !" she immediately corrected

herself: "it were an insult to his unquestionable
honour to entertain a single doubt ! You believe
him honourable — the assurance you ere now gave
me, convinces me that you do — and moreover, he
has confidence in your good opinion — he regards
you as a friend — he would not write to you thus
unless ho were confident that your judgment is
favoxirable towards him !"

"And it is, Miss Sackville," I solemnly an-
swered.

There was now a pause of a few minutes,—
during which Olivia remained plunged in pro-
found thought. She was evidently enjoying the
deep silent luxury of that relief which her mind
had experienced, — a luxury which was only im-
paired by the sense of those injurious suspicions
which were harboured by others against the object
of her love.

" He speaks in that note," she at length said, in
a low gentle voice, " of a pledge which you exacted
from him — a pledge which prevented him from
coming personally to seek an interview with— «
with — me :" — and again was the blush of timid
bashfulness upon her cheeks.

" I will give you every explanation, Miss Sack-
ville," I answered.

" Captain Raymond," she observed, — and I saw
it was with a species of mournful aversion
that she thus alluded to my master, — " gave my
parents to understand that it was in reality Signor
Volterra who enabled you to effect my liberation
— and that he has moreoverassisted you to achieve
a particular object which secretly led you to re-
visit the bandit-stronghold some weeks back — on
which occasicu too he saved your life."

94

JOSEPH WILMOT; OE, THE MEMOIESOF A lIAN-SEBTAifT.

" All this is perfectly true," I answered. " But
with reference to the question you ere now put to
me, I will at once give you an explanation. On
that night when our liberation was accomplished.
Signer Volterra exacted from me a pledge that I
would not name to you who our deliverer was :
but on the other hand, I insisted — aa the condition
of this pledge — that he should not again present
himself to your family after I had thus found him
in the midst of banditti."

" Yes — it was natural that you should take that
step," observed Olivia, in a musing tone : and then
she relapsed into a profound reverie, her head
drooping upon the swan-like neck which sustained
it, like a flower upon its stalk. " I thought at
first," she at length continued, slowly raising her
looks, '•' that the tale which Captain Eaymond told
my parents, and which they repeated to me, was a
wicked invention nay, more, a detestable arti-
fice— until I was assured that you yourself could
corroborate it ; and that you likewise could tell me
how Signer Volterra fled precipitately last night
from Dicomano when the dreadful cry was raised
that he was one of TJberti's band. I was therefore
resolved to hear the truth from your lips, whatever
it might be : but I dared not anticipate that you
would be enabled to give me such cheering assur-
ances as these which with a generous readiness you
have afibrded."

" Miss Sackville," I replied, *as certain as it is
that I have a soul to be saved, so sure am I that
Signor Volterra's statement, contained in that
letter which you have about you, is based upon
the strictest truth. He says that he is not what
he seems; and all his conduct proves that the
assertion is correct. Listen to one incident ! In
the obscurity of the night I was riding towards the
banditti's stronghold, when some one galloped to-
wards me, with a warning not to run headlong
into the lion's den. At that moment he knew not
to whom he was addressing himself "

" And it was Angelo — it was Signor Volterra ?"
exclaimed Olivia, with joy depicted on her counte-
nance.

"Tes — it was he," I answered; " and therefore
it is impossible he can be a bandit !"

Again did Miss Sackville clasp her hands in fer-
vid gratitude for the additional proof thus afi'orded
of her lover's integrity ; and then she exclaimed,
with a sudden revulsion of feeling, " But, Oh !
what perils must environ him amongst that dread-
ful gang of desperadoes ! K he have gone to their
tower with the generous purpose of thwarting their
projects — of rendering assistance to travellers or to
captives where he safely may — and perhaps of
eventually delivering the whole band up to justice,
the most trifling incident may betray his object,
and how fearful would their vengeance be !"

The unfortunate lady was again overwhelmed
with grief : but I said all that I could to console
her. I represented that Signor Volterra was evi-
dently working out his purpose, whatever it might
be, with the strictest caution, and that he con-
ducted aU his proceedings in a way the least calcu-
lated to excite the suspicion of the outlaws amongst
whom he had thrown himself.

" At the same time," I added, " I can scarcely
think, Miss Sackville, that you have fathomed all
the aims which Signor Volterra has in view. If
they were limited to the mere frustration of the

most diabolical parts of the outlaw's proceedings,
and to the intention of seeking an opportunity to
surrender them up to justice, he would not have
hesitated to admit me so far into his confidence,
and to have enabled me to explain that much to

yourself. But there is a deeper mystery still

of this I feel convinced, a mystery which for

the present he dares not reveal, and which we
cannot penetrate."

" Oh ! let us hope," exclaimed Olivia, '•' that
whatever his object be, he will succeed in its
accomplishment — that no adverse circumstance
may bring destruction upon his head — and that
the time is not far distant when he will be enabled,
as he himself expresses it, to fling off the odious
veil of mystery 1"

" I entertain every hope !" I answered confi-
dently: ''for Signor Volterra possesses all those
qualities of firmness, prudence, perseverance, and
magnanimity, which when combined, so seldom
fail in the achievement of their end."

" I have no power to convey the deep sense of
my gratitude for every cheering word you have
uttered, and for every generous assm-ance you have
given :" — and as Olivia thus spoke with tears in
her eyes but with smiles upon her lips, she
proffered me her hand.

I took it respectfully, and then quitted her pre-
sence. Bessy, who had been upon the watch in
the passnge outside, bent an inquiring look upon
me ; and I whispered to her, " Go to Miss Olivia :
you will find that I have indeed been able to
breathe consoling words, and to raise her up &om
the depth of affliction."

Not choosing to stand the chance of encounter-
ing the somewhat inquisitive valet oftener than I
could help, I issued from the hotel to take a walk
through the streets of Florence. After rambling
for some time, I entered a reading-room — or rather
a coffee-house — where English papers were taken ;
and I sate down to whDe away an hour with those
journals. Presently the door opened: I mecha-
nically looked up — and for the moment I was
smitten with an uneasy feeUng on encoxintering
the hideous looks of Mr. Lanover. He stopped
short upon the threshold for an instant : then, as
if suddenly recollecting himself, he came forward,
and offering me his hand, said, " My dear Joseph,
this is indeed an unexpected pleasure !"

" I do not think, Mr. Lanover," I answered,
" that my presence ever afforded you any plea-
sure :" — and I did not take the outstretched hand
of the miscreant who had consigned Annabel and
her relatives — aye, even his own wife— to the cus-
tody of the lawless bandits.

" I should like to have a word or two with
you," said Mr. Lanover, after a few moments'
reflection. " Will you step out and walk with me
along the street ?"

" It is evening," I answered coldly and firmly j
" and I trust myself not with evil-doers in those
hours of darkness which are most favourable to
their treacheries and atrocities."

"You cannot conquer this habit of bitter
speaking," rejoined the humpback, with a malig-
nant sneer : but that sardonic expression vanished
instantaneously from his countenance — and he
added with that air of cajoUng friendliness which
in his viUanous hypocrisy he could so well assume,
'■ Will you step with me into a private apartment ?

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OE, THE lEEJIOIES OF A MAN-SEEVANT.

for it is necessary that we should have a few words
together."

"Yes," I replied: for I was anxious to learn
what he had to say to me, and whether it were in
respect to the incidents at Pistoja as well as those
at the banditti's stronghold.

The waiter conducted us to a private sitting-
room : I took a chair with a calmness which was
intended to convince Mr. Lanover that I no longer
shuddered and trembled in his presence as some
time back I had been wont to do; — and he seated
himself opposite to me. His countenance, always
so revolting, was now more than ever hideous with
the traces of a recent and very severe illness : I
observed too that he was much emaciated, and
that his garments hung loosely upon his ungainly,
stunted, and deformed person. For upwards of a
minute he surveyed me with his horrible eyes
whence Satan himself appeared to be looking
forth ; and gradually as his lips wreathed them-
selves into a sardonic sneer, he said, " And so the
young man who makes such a parade of his
virtue, condescends to the meanest pilfering ?"

" Now, understand me well, Mr. Lanover !" I
answered, slowly rising from my seat, and ad-
vancing round the table close up to him : " if you
dare address me in such terms, I will inflict upon
you a chastisement that shall go far towards
abridging your detestable existence."

" The immaculate Joseph Wilmot," replied the
humpback, wincing only for a moment, and then
again sneering with a horrible sardonism, " would
not, according to his own very words, hesitate at
murder."

" By heaven," I exclaimed, " there were little
oin, methinks, in ridding the world of such as
you !" — and I could scarcely restrain my indigna-
tion. '•' If a wild beast were known to be prowl-
ing about, ready to pounce upon any one whom
he thought fit to make his victim, — all honour
would be due to the man who should hunt down
and destroy him. If it were known that a mon-
strous serpent lay coiled in a thicket, prepared to
spring upon some innocent being, — immense
would be the merit of him who should deal death
to that snake. ZPow, Mr. Lanover, are the wild
beast — yow are the hideous reptile ; and by heaven !
there is no doom however terrible that you do not
deserve !"

" It is very easy, Joseph "Wilmot," answered the
humpback, who for a moment had become per-
fectly livid with rage, " to use strong and abusive
language like this. But what if I were to give
you into custody for pilfering a bank-bill from my
pocket-book when I lay stretched upon a bed of
unconsciousness at Pistoja?"

" And what," I exclaimed, " if I were to hand
over to the authorities an individual, who, while
living under the laws of the Tuscan Grovemment,
is allied with outlawed banditti ? Now, Mr. Lan-
over," I continued, "how shall it be? Will
you give me into custody ? or shall I give you i"

" You know very well, Joseph," he answered,
with a malicious grin, " that there will be no such
thing as giving into custody at all."

" I know perfectly well," I rejoined, " that i/ou
will not dare use provocation towards me : for
what tribunal, whether that of justice or of public
opinion, would not at once acquit me of any il-
legal or dishonourable act in having used your

own money to procure the emancipation of the
victims of your own treachery ?"

'•' And if I dare not give you into custody," an-
swered Lanover, accentuating the words with his
disagreeable jarring voice, "neither will you so
far incur my vengeance."

'■' And wherefore not ?" I demanded.

" Because, if you did," he responded, with a
diabolic expression of countenance, " I should
wiite to Sir Matthew Heseltine, and to Annabel,
and to her mother, mentioning certain little inci-
dents wherein the name of Calanthe Dundas would
figure."

My feelings had been so excited during this in-
terview in the private room, that I had forgotten
how much I was in the miscreant's power in that
one fatal respect, — although during the six or
seven weeks which had elapsed since the incidents
at Pistoja, I had more than once had misgivings
on the very point he had just specified. But not
choosing to betray how much I dreaded him on
that ground, I said with an assumed air of cool
indifference, "Perhaps you have written already to
Sir Matthew Heseltine, to Annabel, and her
mother ?"

'•' No — I have not," responded the humpback.
" Of course I am well aware," he added, with an-
other sneer, "' that you will believe nothing I ad-
vance, xmless I prove its truth by assigning
reasons and motives : I will therefore tell you why
I have hitherto abstained from wreaking ven-
geance upon you for your conduct towards me at
Pistoja, and for the frustration of my projects with
regard to Sir Matthew."

" Proceed," I said.

" Of course I had no difficulty, when regaining
my consciousness," he resumed, " in comprehend-
ing, from the description given, who was the pil-
ferer of the bank-bill from my pocket-book ; and
as soon as I was able to travel, I repaired to
Marco Uberti's head-quarters. There I learnt
what had occurred; and again I had no difiiculty
in understanding that the tall slender young Eng-
lishman, with the dark complexion, the whiskers,
and the moustache, was your own delectable self
in disguise. By the bye, how you obtained your
knowledge of the pass-word is a matter which has
so far excited my curiosity, that now the whole
affair is over, you may perhaps be good enough to
gratify it ?"

" Waste not time with such trifles !" I said :
and then, as an idea struck me, I added, " What
if when you were in a state of unconsciousness,
but just able to breathe a few incoherent words,
you kept muttering Fabiano ? — and what if I
caught it up as the very word which I most
wanted to learn ?"

I spoke thus, because methought that if Lan-
over should again happen to see the banditti, he
might just as well give an explanation which,
appearing natural enough, would serve to avert
all possible suspicion from Volterra, if any had in-
deed attached to him. And natural enough my
ingenious device did appear to Lanover himself :
for when I had so addressed him, he said in a
musing tone, " Yes— that must really be the solu-
tion of a mystery which perplexed all the banditti
as much as it did myself. On my soul, you are a
cunning dog, Joseph!" he exclaimed, raising his
hideous eyes to my countenance. " It is a pity

93

JOSEPH WILMOT; OE, the MEMOIES OP A MAN-SEEVANT.

you have not allowed mo to make something of
you."

"I should doubtless Lave thrivea with such
teachings," I indignantly responded. "But pray
continue your explanations. You were telling mo
why you abstained from writing on a special mat-
ter to Sir Matthew Heseltine, to Annabel, and
Mrs. Lanover."

" From all that I learnt at Marco Uberti's head-
quarters," proceeded Lanover, " it did not appear
that you held any communication with the Baronet
or the ladies beyond stealthily slipping some
money into Sir Matthew's hand ; and from the
tenour of your examination through the medium
of the interpreter, it appeared as if you studiously
sought to avoid all such communication with the
Baronet and the ladies. Under these circumstances,
I came to the conclusion that you had some reason
for keeping them in ignorance of the real motives
of their captivity. I knew not whether you con-
sidered that this silence on your part was a neces-
sary consequence of the compact you made with
me at the chateau where Calanthe died — or whe-
ther it was with the hope that I, hearing of your
forbearance, should continue to keep your secret :
but at all events I liave kept it— and 1 resolved
to do so until chance should throw us together
again, when we might have mutual explana-
tions."

The reader cannot suppose that I should have
acted so foolishly as to admit to Mr. Lanover that
he was altogether wrong — and that, indifferent at
the time to whatsoever consequences might ensue
to myself, I had pencilled a few warning words to
make Sir Matthew Heseltine aware of who the
detestable author of his captivity really was. I
had assuredly no wish that Mr. Lanover should
betray my unfortunate secret in respect to Lady
Calanthe J and I was inwardly rejoiced to find
from his explanations that he had not done so.
My object therefore now was to leave him lulled in
the belief that I had in reality been equally for-
bearing towards himself, — and yet to confirm this
impression ou his mind without giving utterance
to a positive and downright falsehood from my
own lips.

" Well, Mr. Lanover," I said, still in the same
calm tone as before, " now that the explanations
have taken place between us, and that we are
mutually satisfied the compact made upwards of a
year ago at the chateau, has been kept,— what
more have you to say to me ?"

" I am not aware that we have any further
business to transact," he answered; "and yet per-
haps it were as well I should ascertain how you
intend to speak of me the next time you see Sir
Matthew Heseltine ?"

" It will all depend, Mr. Lanover," I responded,
'■ upon the fidelity with which you keep your own
portion of the compact."

" That is sensibly spoken," he said : " for it is
j evident that though in many respects you and I
; are as different as the poles are remote from each
i other, we have an identical interest upon one sub-
ject— namely, this mutual silence and this re-
ciprocal forbearance. At Pistoja you investigated
the contents of my pocket-book — you read all the
papers — you know therefore that I have enter-
tained certain views, and have intended to urge
j certain claims upon Sir Matthew Heseltine -"

"Stop, Mr. Lanover!" I exclaimed: "our com-
pact relates to things which are past, and has
no concern with others that may henceforth
transpire."

" Well, be it so," said the humpback, after a
few moments' consideration. "I shall know if
you in any way prejudice the old Baronet more
than he is already embittered against me ; and if
you do, rest assured that I shall in no way spare
you."

"In that case, Mr. Lanover," I responded,
" I should as a matter of course expect no mercy
at your hands."

With these words I quitted the room, — leaving
upon his mind the impression that I had already
been careful, and should thenceforth prove equally
guarded, in abstaining from making Sir Matthew
Heseltine aware of the full extent of his iniquity.
Leaving the coffee-house— it being now close upon
nine o'clock — I began to retrace my way to the
hotel. While proceeding thither, I reviewed all
that had occurred between myself and Mr. Lanover;
and I was pleased at having encountered him ; —
a serious apprehension which had recently been
haunting me, was now removed : and I had the
conviction that my unfortunate amour with Ca-
lanthe continued yet unknown to those from whom
I chiefly wished it to remain concealed.

I had just entered the street in which the hotel
was situated, when I became aware that I was
followed— or at least fancied that I was— by two
men who had been for a few minutes walking
behind me. They had hitherto kept at precisely
the same distance: they had stopped for a few
moments when I had stopped to look in at some
shop-window ; and now they still kept in my foot-
steps as I turned into another street. I was re-
solved to confront them and ascertain what it
meant : but as I looked round, they disappeared
in some doorway. I therefore fancied that I must
have been mistaken, and that they were indi-
viduals who happening to reside in that same
street, had thus far taken the same direction as
myself, but had now reached their home. I walked
onward: but just as I was passing the entrance
of a dark diverging lane, or alley — I was suddenly
seized upon— a handkerchief was tied over my
mouth — and lifted in the arms of four powerful
individuals, I was borne hastily along that alley,
notwithstanding the desperate efforts I made to
release myself. I was thrust into a post-chaiso
that was waiting at the further extremity of the
dark thoroughfare ; and the equipage at onco
drove rapidly away.

CHAPTEE XCVIII.

Theee of my captors had entered the vehiclo
with me : the other had leaped upon the box ; and
no sooner had the equipage started off, when tho
well-known voice of Philippe, speaking with deep
ferocious rage in my ear, said, " We have got you
at last— and no human power shall save you now !
If you dare raise your voice, that moment you are
a dead man !"
Candidly do I confess that a cold — the coldest

JOSEPH WlLliO r ; OE, THE MBaOIES 03? A IIAN-SEEVANT.

07

shudder swept through my entire frame, when I
thus found myself— as indeed from the first instant
I had suspected — in the power of the ruthless
banditti. The handkerchief tied over my face,
had not merely gagged my mouth, but also
covered my eyes, — thus preventing me (even if
the obscurity of the spot where the onslaught was
made had not been sufficient) from catching a
glimpse of the features of my assailants. I gave
Philippo no answer, though he now removed the
handkerchief from my mouth. What indeed could
I say to him ? To implore his mercy, were worse
than useless: for I knew how bitterly enraged
the outlaws must be against me, considering how
I had once escaped from their hands, and how on
the second occasion I had so completely outwitted
them. The windows of the vehicle h^d been put
up and the blinds drawn down, immediately after
they had thrust me in and had entered them-
selves ; and now Philippo, placing something which
65.

felt like a cold metal ring against my forehead,
said, " Eemember what I have told you ! — if you
dare raise your voice, I blow your brains out — or
I will send the butt of this pistol crashing against
your skull !"

" I know you too well," was my response, " not
to be thoroughly aware that you have taken every
precaution to accomplish your aim :" — and then I
aided, " I suppose this is the result of some
treachery on Lanover's part ?"

"You are wrong, young man," answered
Philippo, sternly: "Lanover has nothing to do
with it."

He said no more upon the subject — and a littla
reflection convinced me that he had spoken truly :
for if Mr. Lanover had devised this atrocity, he
would not have taken the trouble to enter into
such long explanations at the coffee-house and
endeavour to wheedle me into silence with respect
I to his schemes towards Sir Matthew Heseltiue.

98

JOSEPH WILMOT; OE, THE MEMOIES OF A MAIf-8EETAKT.

But, alas ! I thought to myself it indeed mattered
little by whose treachery or vigilance, espial and
■watching, I had been plunged into the present
snare : I was in the power of an unscrupulous set
of miscreants — my hours seemed numbered — and
this awful consideration was sufficient to engross
my thoughts. What was to be done with me ?
Was I to be borne to the banditti's stronghold,
there to p'erish ignominiously in the presence of
the entire gang ? or did my captors purpose to
wreak their vengeance upon me so soon as the
outskirts of the city should be cleared ? Deeming
this latter eventuality to be as probable as the
former, I began to prepare my soul for its flight to
another world : I prayed silently but fervidly in
the depths of my heart — I thought of Annabel —
I prayed for her likewise — and I felt the tears
trickling down my cheets.

But I hastily brushed them away : for though
it was pitch dark inside the vehicle, I was ashamed
to betray even to myself the slightest symptom
of weakness. If I were to die, let me meet my
fate with fortitude ! That movement however,
which I made to dash away the tears from my
eyes startled the three banditti who were inside
the vehicle with me : in a moment I was seized
upon— and Philippe, with a horrible imprecation,
vowed that if I moved thus again he would fulfil
his threat of braining me. The other two men
muttered something in their own native language,
and in savage ferocious tones : but I comprehended
not what they said.

The outskirts of the city were passed ; and now
that there was no longer any chance of lights
flinging their beams into the vehicle, — a circum-
stance which, while we were still in the streets,
would have shown me any favourable instant to
cry suddenly out for succour, — the outlaws drew
up the blinds and lowered the windows. The
equipage went dashing on at a quick rate ; and I
eaw that it was taking the road to Pistoja— for
the stars were now shining brightly. Lonely
places were passed : still there was no halt — and
therefore I concluded that my destination — or in
other words, the place of my execution — would be
the head- quarters of the outlaws. Had I any
hope to indulge in? The reader may be v?ell
assured that 1 forgot not Angelo Volterra: but
yet dared I fancy that he would find means to
succour me ? Would not the banditti surround
me with such precautions that there should be no
chance of escape? — and indeed, would not my
execution follow frightfully close upon my arrival
in Marco Uberti's presence ? Then how could I
venture to hope ?

The equipage pursued its course : it presently
turned out of the main road, and proceeded
through bye-ways. Now and then we passed a
solitary house : but of what use were it to rai#e
my voice and cry for succour, when the vehicle
i would be far away ere assistance could possibly
be rendered, and when three desperate villains
armed to the teeth, were ready to take my life on
the instant ? No — I was completely in their
power: and I felt that Providence alone could
save me, whether by Volterra's means or by any
other of those seeming accidents through which
its inscrutable purposes are worked out.

We had accomplished about a dozen miles, when
the chaise halted at a lonely way. side inn; and

there the horses were changed. The landlord
brought out liquor to the banditti, with whom he
exchanged some remarks in a familiar tone ; and
thus perceiving that he was evidently leagued with
them — or at all events entirely in their interest—
I still saw the utter inutility of crying out for
succour. The journey was resumed ; and in
another hour we began to enter upon the windings
of the Apennine range. Here \Ve stopped at an-
other lonely inn ; and PhiUppo ordered me to alight.
It appeared that our previous mode of travelling
was to be now abandoned : for saddle-horses were
speedily brought forth. I was directed to mount
one ; and a cord was fastened to my feet under
the animal's belly, after the same fashion which
had been adopted on the very first occasion of my
introduction to IMarco Uberti's head-quarters.
This time, however, additional precautions were
used : for the end of the cord which thus bound
my ankles, was held by Philippo as he mounted
his own horse. In this manner our journey was
continued ; and as if the precautions already spe-
cified were not sufficient, Philippo savagely gave
me to understand that his comrades who rode be-
hind, had their pistols in readiness to shoot me
down if I made the slightest attempt at es-
cape.

All my worst fears were thus confirmed : the
banditti were resolved that I should not have
another chance of outwitting them. We rode
along, — I maintaining a profound silence — Phi-
lippo occasionally levelling the bitterest taunts at
me — and his three comrades in the rear conversing
amongst themselves, or raising their voices in
some uncouth attempt at a song. In the despera-
tion of my circumstances I gradually began to
revolve in my mind a project of escape, but which
was quite as desperate as those very circumstances
that initiated it. The reader will comprehend
that I was riding side by side with Philippo — that
he was holding the end of the cord which was
fastened to my feet — and that the other three ban-
ditti were following behind. It was a moon-lit
night — but the defiles and windings of the Apen-
nines were often shrouded in deepest gloom.
The project I entertained was one which pre-
sented little chances of success : but by attempting
it I could not possibly aggravate the dangers of
my position : for how mattered it to me whether
I were to perish by the bullets of the outlaws'
pistols in the defile which we were now entering,
or by the strangling noose a little later at the
brigands' stronghold ?

My resolve, then, was quickly adopted. The
eye winks not with greater swiftness — the light-
ning flashes not with more suddenness, than was
my movement executed. One strong and skilful
jerk not merely tore away the cord which Philippo
had retained by winding the end tiglitly round
his wrist — but it likewise dragged him from his
horse. He fell heavily, with a bitter imprecation
starting from his lips ; and a^vay, away I galloped
with the speed of the whirlwind. Crack, crack, crack,
one after another in rapid succession sounded the
report of the pistols which his three companion-
outlaws fired : the bullets whistled about my ears
— but fortunately none touched me : and through
that dark defile I urged the steed onward at its
utmost swiftness. It was veritably neck or no-
thing—and I knew it — I felt it— I compre*

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OE, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT.

99

hended it all, as I thus rode desperately along.
If the defile were suddenly to terminate in a yawn-
ing chasm, I must plunge into it : if it were
crossed by a deep river, therein likewise must I
fall : or if its extremity were abruptly barred by
a wall of rock, against it must we both madly
dash ourselves, I and my horse ! Yet was it
needful to dare all these dangers in this desperate
attempt to escape. Soon did I hear the sounds of
horses' feet careering towards me from behind :
but I urged my own animal forward — it was
fleeter than those of the pursuers — and in a few
minutes I no longer caught that clattering din
coming from behind.

A glimmering light appeared far aiead : I knew
it was the opening of the defile; and as I pro-
ceeded, the walls of rock grew wider and wider
apart — the overhanging crags and stunted shrubs
ceased to form an arch above my head — the moon
was shining — the end of the defile was reached —
and I had to choose between two diverging paths.
Swift as lightning did the thought occur to me
that so far as I could possibly judge from my
former experiences in the Apennines, the ban-
ditti's stronghold must be u^on the right hand ;
and I therefore struck into a path which branched
off upon the left. I continued my way without
slackening speed : for I could now pursue it in
comparative safety by aid of the moonlight. For
full half-an-hour I thus galloped onward, and then
drew in the bridle for a few minutes, to unfasten
the cord from my ankles, and also to listen whe-
ther any sounds were still coming from behind.
But there were none — and I now felt as if I were
indeed altogether in safety. I breathed a prayer
to heaven in thankfulness for the result of my
desperate venture ; and I continued my way again
with the utmost celerity of which the horse was
capable.

Another hour thus passed, during which time I
reached not a single inhabited spot : no village nor
hamlet — not even an isolated dwelling, occurred
upon my route : I therefore knew that I was in
the very wildest part of the Apennine mountains.
I had no idea of which direction I ought to take
in order to re-enter the Tuscan territory : I
slackened the horse's speed to a walking pace, and
reflected what I should do. If I continued my
way blindly, so to speak, it was equally probable
that I should come within the precincts of Marco
Uberti's stronghold as that I should gain a place
of complete security. I was almost inclined to
think that it were better if I baited at once to
pass the remainder of the night on that spot: but
a second thought told me that I should be no
wiser by daylight as to the proper route to be
taken than I now was in the semi-obscurity of
that hour. I therefore continued to advance — but
at a gentle pace— until in another half-hour I
beheld a light glimmering at a distance. Me-
thought it was in the window of some dwelling : —
perhaps some lonely shepherd's cot ? perhaps on
the outskirt of a village ? — and thither I bent my
way. As I drew nearer, the light seemed to be
Bhining from the side of a rock. Nearer I drew —
and then it seemed to emanate from some con-
cealed dwelling ; for the door whence it shone,
was evidently of a shapely form, and was not the
mere rugged uneven mouth of a rude cave left as
nature or accident had fashioned it. There was a

gradual ascent thither. At length I reached the
spot ; and found, as I had more or less suspected,
that it was a habitation hollowed out of the rock,
having a regular doorway, and the door itself
now standing wide open.

I alighted from my horse ; and advancing close
up to the threshold, looked into the cave. It
might be about sixteen feet square and six feet
high. At a rude table in the middle a man was
seated, — his eyes fixed upon a book which lay open
before him, and which he was reading by the aid
of a candle stuck into a lump of clay, which served
as the candlestick. His elbow rested upon that
table ; and his hand supporting his head, shaded his
countenance in such a manner that I could not
immediately perceive it. He was not dressed in
the humble garb worn by the poor dwellers in
those mountains : but he had on a loose dressing-
gown and black pantaloons, with a sort of French
travelling-cap upon his head. I stopped short at
the entrance of the cave to survey this individual,
who seemed like a modern anchorite in his lonely
mountain-hermitage. Who could he possibly be
that had thus retired from the busy haunts of
men to bury himself in this wild and savage seclu-
sion? Was he a criminal shrouding himself from
the grasp of justice — or a cynic who had fled in
disgust from the society of his fellow-creatures ?
Plunging my looks more intently into the cavern,
I discerned objects leading me to believe that the
stranger was not altogether an ascetic : for there
was a goodly ham suspended to a hook — other
articles of provision appeared upon a shelf — and
sundry case-bottles, which assuredly were not
meant to contain water only, were heaped in a
basket in the corner. On the opposite side of the
cave, a mattress with suitable bedding was
stretched upon a rudely constructed bedstead ; and
there was a trunk, the lid of which being open,
disclosed some articles of apparel together with a
few books.

As well as I can now remember, I stood for
three or four minutes at the mouth of this cave,
contemplating its occupant and the details of his
little habitation. During this interval his form
made not the slightest movement : so that at
length a species of superstitious terror began to
creep coldly over me, as the fancy stole into my
mind that it was no living being whom I beheld
there, but a corpse that for some unknown pur-
pose, or else in hideous mockery, had been thus
propped up on the rude three-legged stool whereon
he was placed. But this apprehension — if indeed
to such an extreme the feeling had reached — was
all in a moment relieved when the individual
deliberately turned over the leaf of his book ; and
as the light of the candle flickered upon the page,
I saw that it was the Bible he was reading. But
it was with his disengaged hand that he turned
over the leaf, — the other stiU continuing to support
his head, and also to veil his countenance. The
form of the man was tall and lean, so far as I
could judge, considering the posture in which he
was seated and the looseness of the dressing-gown
that enveloped him. Was ho deaf that he had
not heard the trampling of the horse's feet as I
had approached his habitation ? or was he so pro-
foundly absorbed in his pious studies at this late
hour of the night, as to have all his senses and
faculties concentrated therein ?

100

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OE, THB MEM0IE3 O? A MAN-SEEVANT.

" Whoever you are," I at length said, speaking
in French, " may I solicit your hospitality for a
few hours ?"

He evidently started as I thus addressed him ;
and therefore I at once perceived that he was not
deaf.

" Enter, and be welcome," he replied, without
moving his hand from his head, or changing his
posture in the slightest degree. "I am an un-
happy man who for many reasons has secluded
himself from the world, and whose days — aye, and
whose nights also, are occupied in atoning for the
errors of an ill-spent life. Enter therefore, I say.
You will find meat and drink, which I keep for
wanderers and wayfarers such as you yourself are.
There is a pallet whereupon to stretch your limbs :
in an adjacent cave you may stable your horse ;
and all I demand in return for such poor hospi-
tality as I may be enabled to afford, is that you will
remain silent and interrupt me not in my avoca-
tions."

The anchorite spoke in French, but with a
foreign accent which unmistakeably denoted the
Englishman : and as he continued to address me
without for a single moment changing his posture,
or removing his hand from his head, or looking
towards me, the suspicion grew stronger and
stronger in my mind that the voice was familiar
to my ears. Holding the bridle of the horse, I
advanced farther into the cave ; and tapping the
anchorite on the shoulder, said, " If I mistake not,
it is Mr. Dorchester whom I thus find in the
midst of the Apennine wilds ?"

" Yes— it is that sinful and unfortunate man,"
was the response : and now slowly raising his coun-
tenance, he revealed to me the well-known features
of him who had twice so infamously plundered
me.

" And you are Joseph Wilmot," he said, with a
look most mournfully contrite : there was shame,
too, apparently blending itself in that expression
of his face ; and clasping his hands together, he
bent his head down upon them as they rested upon
the open Bible — and methought that the sound of
a stifled sob reached my ear.

"Well, Mr. Dorchester," I said, "if you be
truly penitent, it is not from my lips that you will
hear reproaches."

" Penitent, Joseph ?" he answered, again slowly
raising his countenance and looking up into mine :
" do you think that unless a man were sincerely
Borry for the deeds of which he had been guilty,
he would come to bury himself amidst the wilds of
the Apennines?"

"But your sentence of imprisonment in France i"
I said inquiringly.

"On account of my good conduct," rejoined
Mr. Dorchester, " I was pardoned at the expi-
ration of six months, — half the period of my con-
demnation being thus remitted. But you, Joseph,
— can you indeed speak kindly to one at whose

hands "

" Enough, Mr. Dorchester !" I interrupted
him : " I do believe that you are penitent — and let
the past be buried in oblivion."

" Oh, generous-hearted young man, how could
I ever have behaved so infamously towards you ?
Ah, I have often and often thought of you, Joseph
— and in moments when the extremest bitterness
of remorse has seized upon me, 1 have wept — I

have sobbed — I have beaten my breast at the
idea of my black villany towards yourself!"

"Yes, I twice suffered cruelly, cruelly in conse-
quence thereof," I answered, profoundly moved
by Mr. Dorchester's words, looks, and manner :
" but it is aU gone by now — and let it be likewise
forgotten."

He took my hand, pressed it between both his
own, and shaking it for some moments, murmured
in a broken voice, " God bless you, young man-
God bless you ! You know not what comfort you
have infused into my soul. But tell me," he
said, after a brief pause, during whick the
strength of his emotions appeared to have sub-
sided ; " wherefore aje you a wanderer amidst
these rude and savage mountain passes ?"

" First let me stable my steed," I said : " then
give me a morsel of food — and I will explain my
position."

"For no other person but yourself, Joseph,"
answered Mr. Dorchester, " would I rise from the
midst of these holy studies of mine until the dawn
of morning glimmered over the eastern height.
But for you it is diflferent !"

Thus speaking, he lighted a lantern, and led the
way to another cave about twenty yards distant,
and hollowed out of the same frontage of rock.
It was more spacious than that which formed his
own habitation : but it had no door. There was
a quantity of dried grass piled up within, — thus
affording provender for the animal. A streamlet
rippled nigh : Mr. Dorchester hastened to fill a
pail with the limpid element, also for the steed's
behoof; and a wooden bar fastened across the en-
trance of the cavern, closed it sufficiently against
the horse's egress.

We then returned to the first-mentioned cave ;
and Mr. Dorchester bustled about to set upon the
table such provision as was immediately available.
I made a hearty meal, which I washed down with
some spirits and water ; and while I was thus en-
gaged, Mr. Dorchester forbore from questioning
me. The hospitalities of his strange mountain-
habitation were proffered with every appearance
of cordiality and good feeling, so that I felt even
grateful to him for his attentions ; and my assur-
ance of the past being forgiven was not a mere
verbal formality.

" And now, my young friend," he said, when I
had finished my meal, "if you will permit me,
imder all circumstances, to denominate you a friend
— pray tell me how it is that I find you thus wan-
dering amidst the Apennines ?"

" In the first place tell me," I exclaimed, " and.
this is a question that I almost wonder I did not
ask at the very first, — tell me how far distant is
Marco Uberti's stronghold ?"

"What! that dreadful bandit?" ejaculated Mr,
Dorchester, with a visible start : then lowering his
voice to a confidential whisper, as if the very walls
of his cave had ears, he said, " I am happy to in-
form you, Joseph, that it is one of my avocations,
and therefore one mode by which I seek to atone
for the past, to guide travellers in such a route
that they may avoid falling into the hands of that
execrable ruffian and his equally villanous myrmi-
dons."

"Then are you indeed doing good service to the
cause of humanity !" I exclaimed. " But you have
not answered my question "

JOSEPH WILMOT; OE, THT? ArE:MOIKS OF A MAN-SERVANT.

lOi

"Ah, I forgot!" responded Mr. Dorchester.
"The brigands' stronghold is some dozen miles
distant in that direction," — and he accompanied
the words with a suitable indication ; " while Pis-
toja is some fiveand-thirty miles in that direc-
tion."

" I have special reasons for needing this intelli-
gence," I observed : " for this very night I have
escaped from the hands of a detachment of those
brigands, who, by violence, brought me all the
way from Florence."

" My poor young friend," said Mr. Dorchester,
" how you must have suffered ! — and how rejoiced
I am that you have found your way hither !"

I know not how it was, but just at that mo-
ment a suspicion — vague, dim, and distant — began
to take birth in my mind ; and looking hard at
Mr, Dorchester, I said to him, "Methinks that
you have already given me up so much of that
valuable time which you appear to devote to pur-
poses of religious study and of prayer "

" I shall only lie down to rest an hour later on
that account," was his grave answer interruptingly
given. "In the meanwhile, do you stretch your
wearied limbs upon that humble pallet of mine."

" I thank you," I rejoined : " but as I have
rested half-an-hour, and my horse is refreshed, I will
pursue my way, now that I know in which direc-
tion lies the path to Pistoja."

" Do as you will, my young friend," said Mr.
Dorchester : " but if you think fit to tarry until
sunrise, I will myself escort you some two or three
miles upon your way; so that from the point
where I shall take leaveof you, you cannot possibly
fail to pursue the right road towards Pistoja."

I reflected for a few moments. Was the man
sincerely contrite ? or was all this merely another
phase in his detestable hypocrisies ? I feared the
latter. "Now that I had leisure for deliberation,
and was recovered from the surprise into which I
was at first thrown by finding him entombed in this
cavern in the midst of the Apennines, I was not
altogether credulous in respect to his days and
nights of pious studies and religious readings. If
he were a villain, then what was the nature of the
villainy thatjwas here cloaked under the seeming
garb of anchoritism ? Was he a villain on his own
account alone ? or had he accomplices near at
hand? In a word, should I remain there tUl
morning ? or should I depart at once ? — and if by
adopting this latter course, should I avoid falling
into any snare which he might otherwise be en-
abled to set for the achievement of my destruc-
tion?

I looked at him again ; and methought that his
eyes were instantaneously withdrawn from my
countenance, as if they had a moment before been
regarding me with a furtive scrutiny. Now I was
almost completely convinced that he was still a
scoundrel and still a hypocrite. Then, too, other
little circumstances flashed to my mind. There
was something most outrageously affected and in-
deed unnatural in the way in which he had con-
tinued to study his volume when I first approached
the cave : it was not probable that however peni-
tent and religious, be would have been so com-
pletely absorbed in his studies as to remain deaf
or indifferent to the approach of a traveller.
Moreover I remembered that he had started per-
ceptibly when I first addressed him ; and this was

no doubt because my voice, sounding familiar to
his ear, was at once recognised; and the Ion;.;
speech of which he bad immediately afterwards
delivered himself, bidding me make myself wel-
come so long as I intruded not on his pious avoca-
tions, was to throw me off my guard and lead mo
to fancy that not having recognised my voice, ho
was speaking to me just as he would have spoken
to any one who was really a stranger.

All these circumstances and recollections sweep-
ing through my mind, brought me to the positive
conviction that he still wore the garb of hypocrisy
in order to conceal the darkest villany of purpose.
My decision was therefore to depart at once : but
yet I thought it better not to suffer him to per-
ceive that I suspected him, — unless indeed he had
already fathomed, with his extreme shrewdness,
the misgivings which had arisen in my mind.

" Thanks for the offer of your pallet and your
escort in the morning," I said : " but I will take
my departure now."

" Be it 80," responded Mir. Dorchester, with an
air so calm and with a look so completely inno-
cent, that I was staggered, and was half-inclined
to fancy that by my suspicions I had done him
wrong. " Take up your hat," he continued :
"perhaps too you will put that flask of strong
waters in your pocket — it will refresh you in your
ride during the rest of the night."

While he was thus speaking, he re-lighted the
lantern ; and I, still uncertain what to think — and
consequently more than ever anxious to avoid the
betrayal of my misgivings — chose not to hurt his
feelings, if they were sincere, by the refusal of the
flask of spirits. I accordingly consigned the flask
to my pocket, and turned towards the pallet to
take up my hat. As I looked around again,
Dorchester was just passing out of the cave ; and
he was hurriedly closing the door upon me. I
sprang forward — but too late : the door banged
violently — and I heard a huge bolt closing outside.
I threw myself with all my force against that
door : I might as well have endeavoured to beat
down the solid wall of rock itself: for the door was
as massive and as firmly fixed in its setting as
that of the strongest prison.

Still I did not at once abandon every attempt to
eSect an egress. The candle, in its clay supporter,
had been left burning upon the table : I placed it
upon the shelf — and using that table as a battering,
ram, drove it with all my might against the door.
It was a heavy table, rudely constructed, with
little of the carpenter's art; and it made the door
shake ; — but beyond this effect none other was
produced. I battered and battered away until
breathless and exhausted — but all in vain. At
length I was compelled to acknowledge unto ray-
self the futility of these endeavours ; and sitting
down, I marvelled, amidst bitter reflections, as to
what fate would now be in store for me.

Perhaps the miscreant Dorchester was himself
in league with Marco Uberti's band ? Ah, there
was something frightfully probable in tliis con-
jecture ! Had he not assured me that it was one
of his avocations, and therefore one of his self-
imposed expiations, to guide travellers away from
those paths which would lead them into the lion's
den ? — but would it not now be far more rational
for me to interpret the hypocritical villain's de-
claration by the rule of contraries ? Yes : and

102

JOSEPH WIIMOT; OB, THE MEMOIBS OF A MAH-SEKVANT.

bitterly, bitterly did I reproach myself for having
confided to him the fact that I had just now
escaped from the hands of the brigands. Possibly
if I had not been thus foolishly off my guard, he
might not have thought it worth his while to send
a solitary wayfarer, such as I was, into the lion's
den; and he might have let me go my way. But
under existing circumstances — with the knowledge
that I had been captured in Florence, and that I
had escaped from the captors — he would naturally
attach importance to the incident, and would lose
no time in handing me over again to the custody
of those from whom I had fled. All this, however,
depended upon the supposition that he really was
in league with the banditti ; whereas my con-
jecture might possibly be altogether wrong, and
the scoundrel's villany might turn entirely upon
some other pivot. But if so, of what nature could
it be ?

Alas ! too clear, too clear indeed was it that if
I had escaped from one danger, it was only to fall
into another — and that whether conijected with
Marco Uberti's horde of miscreant's or any other
gang, the villain Dorchester meant me mischief.
"Was my life about to be sacrificed La that cave in
the midst of the Apennine mountains ? Ah, but I
would sell it dearly — I would fight until the very
last ! — and inspired by this thought, I sprang up
from my seat and began to look about for the
most suitable weapons of offence or defence. I
turned out the contents of Dorchester's trunk :
there were no weapons of any kind : but on the
shelf I found a knife — and this I clutched eagerly.
Every nook and corner of the cave did I search in
the hope of discovering fire-arms or a sword : but
there were none. Again I went back to the trunk :
I felt amongst the garments — but still unavail-
ingly in respect to the hoped-for discoveries of
better means of resistance than the poor weapon
that I held in my hand. From amidst those arti-
cles of raiment a printed paper fell out : I picked
it up : and though in a state of almost frenzied
bewilderment at the horrors of my position, I
nevertheless had curiosity sufficient to examine
it. It was a small hand-bill, announcing the escape
of Dorchester from the prison of La Force in
Paris, and ofi"ering a reward for his capture. It
was dated about sis months back, and gave a
minute description of his personal appearance.
Ah, the villain ! here was the detection of another
falsehood ! Instead of a portion of his punishment
being remitted through good conduct, he had
escaped from custody. Doubtless it was in some
well contrived disguise — an art in which he was
proficient, as I knew to my cost ; and perhaps he
had preserved as a trophy of the exploit the hand-
bill which had subsequently fallen into his posses-
sion.

But all this was a mere trifle for the occupation
of my thoughts in comparison with the horrors
of my own position. I renewed my examination
of the cave : it had no window — it was hollowed
completely out of the solid rock — and it was merely
by three small holes, each not larger than an
orange, in the massive door that the air penetrated.
Escape from such a place appeared to be almost
impossible : yet again and again did I renew the
battering process at that door — and still ineflec-
tually.

Once more too did I sit down, thoroughly ex-

hausted, to give way to my wretched, wretched
meditations. Suppose that Dorchester never carae
back ? suppose that through vindictive malignity
he had immured me there .'' or suppose that an ac-
cident should suddenly cut short his life while now
on his way to execute any purpose he might have
in view or to fetch thither whomsoever he had gone
to summon? Oh, in either of these cases I should
be left to die of starvation ! — for the provisions
which were there must in a few days be exhausted.
The idea was horrible. A burning thirst came
upon me: I drained the contents of the pitcher
from which I had previously drunk when at my
meal. I searched for more water — but there was
none in the cave ; and therefore if veritably im-
mured there either purposely or through the
result of the casualities previously supposed, I
should not linger on for even so much as a few days,
but should perish miserably of thirst long ere the
provisions themselves would be exhausted !

I cannot now recollect all the horrible thoughts
which kept trooping in unto my mind, when, ex-
hausted with fatigue, I for the last time renounced
the battering at the door. The atmosphere seemed
to become oppressive, and even stifling : I felt as
if I were in a coffin that was at first much t"o
large for me, but the sides, the bottom, and the lid
of which were gradually and gradually closing in
upon me, and thus by sure degrees shutting me
up in a narrower and narrower compass. For
several minutes at a time, too, did I completely
lose my presence of mind : my brain appeared to be
reeling, or else to be goaded with frenzy j and I
could have shrieked out.

" Oh, Annabel ! Annabel !" I thought to myself;
" after having liberated you from captivity, am I at
the interval of a few weeks thus doomed to a more
dreadful one ? — a captivity too which can scarcely
end otherwise than in a violent death !"

But at length I grew ashamed of myself fof thus
giving way to what I conceived to be a weakness ;
and I entered upon a train of more becoming re-
flections. I remembered how often I had been
placed in circumstances of frightful peril, and how
succour had come because God had willed that it
should be so : — and wherefore should it not be his
dispensation that help was to reach me again ? I
knelt down and prayed : and on rising up, I felt
infinitely solaced and strengthened. Half-an-hour
had now passed since I was left alone a prisoner
there ; and the candle had burnt down to its socket.
I looked about for another : there was none. I
therefore had to resign myself to the prospect of
being speedily enveloped in total darkness. 'The
darkness came — and never did it appear so intense.
It was as if I were immersed in an atmosphere of
ink, which though it hvmg upon me with an op-
pressive weight, yet stifled not my breath alto-
gether. Thus another half-hour passed ; and during
this interval I did not again lose my presence of
mind. I prayed frequently — I thought of Anna-
bel— I resigned myself to die, if death were indeed
approaching : but I also vowed that my young life
should not be surrendered up without a desperate
resistance on my part.

At length — when, as nearly as I could judge,
that second half-hour had expired — I heard the
tramplings of horses' feet : they were rapidly
approaching the cave — and I held my breath to
listen. They stopped: then came the sound of

JOSEPH WILMOT; OE, THE MEM0IE3 OP A MAN-SEEVAJfT.

103

armed men leaping from their steeds, their
weapons rattling and their heavy boots coming in
Btrong concussion with the ground. Through the
holes in the massive door I could catch the sounds
of their voices likewise ; and I recognised that of
Philippo amongst them. Now there was no longer
any uncertainty as to what my doom would be : I
was about to be recaptured by those from whom I
had escaped ; and immense as their exasperation
previously was against me, I knew that it must
have been increased a thousand fold !

Firm was my resolve to make one desperate
effort at escape ; and without vanity may I con-
scientiously afSrm that never was I more intrepid
than at that instant. The heavy bolt was drawn
back — the door was thrown open : brandishing the
knife I sprang forward — but how uselessly, how
vainly!— for in a moment was I surrounded,
1 mnced upon, secured, and rendered powerless, in
the grasp of half-a-dozen of the banditti. The
swords of a couple were even raised to cut me
down : but Philippo interposed, and my life was
thus rescued — but I knew not then for how long.
Philippo however was so bitterly, so ferociously
irate against me, that he thrust his clenched fist
into my face, — telling me in English, and with the
most hideous imprecations, that I should assuredly
be put to as horrible a death as Marco Uberti
could devise.

This threat conveyed a piece of intelligence
likewise : namely, to the effect that I was not to
be deprived of life until the bandit-chief should
have himself decided upon the means by which it
was to be taken.

And now, from the rear of the group, the
villain Dorchester came forward ; and as the
glimmering light which beamed from heaven fell
upon the miscreant's countenance, I saw that he
was regarding me with a malignant mockery of
expression.

"Eest assured," I said, that the day will yet
come when you, vile wicked man ! will repent of
what you have this night done. Never did you
sustain the slightest injury at my hands. I have
been your victim — and that is all. If I had
proven your most relentless foe, you could not
have shown a more demon-like implacability !"

The hypocritical scoundrel grinned in my face,
as he led forward the horse from which he had
just dismounted, and which I recognised to be the
one that I myself had previously ridden. I was
now again placed upon the back of the animal :
again too was a cord fastened to my ankles be-
neath its belly; and my arms were pinioned.
The banditti leapt into their own saddles : one of
them took the reins of my horse — loaded pistols
were kept levelled at me — I was surrounded by
my captors — and in this manner the journey was
resumed. We proceeded at a walking pace ; but
in half-an-hour the stronghold was reached ; and
thus I found that Mr. Dorchester had deceived
me as to its distance from the cave. But trilling I
indeed was this falsehood in comparison with the
full measure of his villanous hypocrisy ; and little
mattered the incident to me, considering the
frightful dangers by which I was again sur-
rounded.

CHAPTER XCIX.

THE rrNGEON.

The banditti's tower was reached ; and several of
the brigands were evidently awaiting our arrival.
I had consequently no doubt that Mr. Dorchester,
on locking me up in his cave, had at once mounted
the horse and sped off to the tower to convey the
news of my capture : but as I was at the time
using the table as a battering-ram against the
huge door of the cavern, the noise of the departing
horse's hoofs had been drowned in that din.

The moment I was descried in the midst of the
party of my captors, those who were waiting in
the vicinage of the tower began to hurl vehement
imprecations against me in their own passionate
Italian language : they gesticulated too, with men-
acing vehemence ; and there was every indication
of a ferocious desire — a savage, satanic, yearning
to wreak a frightful vengeance upon my head. I
swept my looks around ; and for an instant they
settled upon the form of Signor Volterra, who was
apparently lounging with an air of easy indiffer-
ence against the wall of the tower. But no sooner
did I thus catch a glimpse of him, than my eyes
were averted again : for a sudden hope had sprung
up in my heart — and Oh ! it was too precious to
be frustrated or foiled by any indiscretion on my
part. Immediately afterwards Volterra moved
away from the spot where I had thus seen him :
and passing round the angle of the tower, was lost
to my view.

My cords were taken off; and I was forced to
alight. Then, in the grasp of five or six iron
hands, I was conducted round to the entrance of
the tower ; we passed through the little vestibule
whence opened the room where Olivia Sackville
had been incarcerated — up the staircase — and into
the banqueting-hall, at the extremity of which
Marco TJberti was lolling back in his arm-chair,
close by the table. That table was covered witli
bottles, glasses, cigars, pipes, tobacco, and all the
requisites for an orgie. This, too, had been pro-
longed up to that late hour of the night, or rather
early one in the morning ; and Marco Uberti was
evidently so far advanced on the road of intoxica-
tion, that his ebriety was all but complete. He
could just keep himself up in the chair, and no
more : and this ability to sustain himself at all, no
doubt arose from the fact that hard drinking was
habitual with hiai, and that there was a certain
point beyond which no stupefying influence could
reach. Five or six other banditti were keeping
him company, and had reached precisely a similar
condition. But what at first astounded me for the
moment, was to behold Angelo Volterra swaying
to and fro in his chair, in the midst of these ruf-
fims, — holding his glass high up, and vociferating
fo.th a bacchanalian chaunt,— stopping abruptly,
however, in the midst, to fill Marco Uberti a
bumper, as well as to replenish the glasses of the
other convivialists. But only for that single in-
stant did my amazement last, inasmuch as t je next
moment I was struck by a thought which some-
what enhanced the hope wherewith Vol terra's pre-
sence outside the tower had previously inspired
me.

In the grasp of the ferocious ruffians who had

104

JOSEPH WILMOT; OB, THE MEMOIBS OF A MAN-SERVANT.

charge of me, I was conducted forward to the head or annoy. " When you undertook to pit yourself
of the table at which Marco Uberti sate ; and Phi- against Marco Uberti and his band, you little

lippo addressed hitn in his own native language.
But the bandit-chief only gazed up at his subordi-
cate with a tipsy-leer, and then rolled his eyes in
the same stolid vacancy upon me. He evidently
recognised me not : neither did he comprehend
what Philippo said to hitn. The ruffians who were
drinking with him, were equally beyond the power
of understanding what was passing ; and Philippo,
with an air of uncertainty amounting almost to
bewilderment, turned to consult with his comrades
who had brought me thither. Angelo Volterra,

thought of the odds you would have to encounter,
and the chances which would be against you. You
must not fancy that because the chief is somewhat
in his cups to-night, and that therefore justice is
delayed, it will be suspended altogether: for as
sure as you are alive now, you will be dead at this
time to-morrow !"

Still I gave no answer ; because I saw that
Philippo was most anxious to provoke me to an
altercation or discussion, in the course of which he
might find fresh opportunities of venting his bitter

who had renewed his bacchanalian chaunt, and was ■ malignity against me. With the key which he
again replenishing the glasses of the convivial ban- i had taken from Marco Uberti's pocket, he opened
dits, now suddenly broke off his song and shouted ; an inner door ; and this led into a small place
out something to Philippo. It was evidently a about six feet square, and having the appearance
piece of advice given in respect to myself; and ■ of a vault or tomb, only that it was not under-
squall V apparent was it that Philippo deemed it ! ground. It had no window: but the 'air was ad-
expedient to be followed. He, however, again I mitted by a grating set where the key-stone of

consulted with his comrades, who held me in their
grasp : and I understood from their looks and
manner that they assented to whatever had been
proposed.

Philippo now accosted Marco Uberti, and un-
ceremoniously dived his hand into a pocket which
was inside the breast of the bandit-chief's frock-
cost, — this garment, which he usually wore but-
toned in the military style, being now thrown open
in the negligence which pervaded his entire ap-
parel. Uberti appeai-ed for a moment to resent

the arched roof would otherwise have been. This
grating was not above half a foot square : the
walls gave an idea of tremendous massiveness ;
and the door of communication between the
chamber and this living tomb, was even more pon-
derous than that of Mr. Dorchester's cave. Be-
sides, it was strengthened with pieces of iron and
studded with huge nails of the same metal, like
the doors of old-fashioned churches."

" There 1" said Philippo, pointing to the in-
terior of this dreadful place: "there are your

this intrusion on his pocket : he raised himself up i quarters !"

in the chair, and repulsed Philippo's hand. Phi- | At a signal which he gave, I was thrust rudely
lippo seemed undecided how to act : but a brief forward, so that I almost fell headlong upon the
ejaculation from one of the men who held me in ! solid stone floor of the dungeon. The door was
custody, urged him on. He poured the contents j about to be closed upon me, when Philippo inter-
of the glass down his chieltain's throat, and at the [ posed for an instant j and he said, "' You will do
same time dexterously whisked out a key of mode- well to say all the prayers you can recollect : for
rate size from the frock-coat pocket. Volterra no earthly power can now save you. Hanged
shouted out something, at the same time pointing you are destined to be— and hang you shall !"
sijjuificintly to Marco Uberti : Philippo nodded These last words were still vibrating in the air.

an assent ; and I was led forth from the banquet-
ing-hall.

■ Don't think, young fellow," said Philippo to

when the door was banged so violently upon me
that it seemed to give my brain a concussion ; and
I staggered back against the wall. The key turned

me, when the door closed behind us as we reached j in the lock— a couple of huge bolts were likewise
the corridor outside, " that because you have got a I drawn outside — and thus was I a prisoner in that
respite of a few hours, it will amount to a reprieve, l horrible place

You were born to be hanged — and hanged you
shall be ! In the interval you will be kept in such
eafe custody, that if you can manage to get out,
^on my soul ! you will deserve your freedom."

I answered not a word — but assumed an air of
dignified fortitude as I was conducted along the
passage : a door at the extremity was opened ; and
one of the banditti having brought a light with
him, I perceived that it was a small, but tolerably
well furnished bed-chamber into which I was now
led. Over the huge projecting chimney-piece hung

No article of furniture was there — not so much
as a rug or a pile of straw whereupon to repose
my weary frame. If I wished tj lie down, it
must be upon the cold pavement ; and the place
itself seemed to have the death- chill of the tomb.
The air came in cold from above : the masonry,
when touched, sent the blood congealing to tbe
very heart. It was as if I were in a stone-cofEo.
If I stretched out both arms, a very little swaying
of the form from side to side, enabled me to touch
the opposite walls with the points of my fingers

ilivers swords, pistols, poniards, and rifles ; there } without moving from the spot where I stood,
were several silver cups and vases on a shelf; and ! Escape thence was indeed impossible, unless by

a cupboard door, standing half open, revealed
three or four costumes suspended to pegs. The
furniture was very old-fashioned : the velvet on the
*eats of some of the high-backed chairs was torn ;
and the whole aspect of the chamber was that of
dirty slovenliness.

" You need not think, young fellow, that you
are going to occupy these comfortable quarters,"
said Philippo, who appeared to take a malignant

skilful succour from the outside ; and then only
could flight be achieved by means of the door. As
for breaking through that solid masonry, even if
provided with all requisite instruments, it was out
of the question. But what hope had I that suc-
cour would come ? From Volterra alone could it
proceed : that he had the will to afford it, I had
already comprehended : but how was he to find
the power ? Again and again, as on so many

pleasure in saying every thing he could to menace I former occasions, did I repose my faith in heaven.

JOSKPH WILMOT ; -OK, THE MBIIOIES OF A MAN-SEBVANl

105

N^^ -s\u^v:> ^ - -x

a^^N^

My thouglifs during tbe first half-Lour of my
immurement in this dungeon were almost com-
pletely desponding, apart from their reliance on a
supernal power. But by degrees I was led to re-
flect on two or three little circumstances which
mitigated some rhat and slightly the darkness that
hung around my soul. It was evident that to
Marco Uberti's intoxicated condition I was in-
debted for this delay in respect to an execution
which would otherwise have no doubt been sum-
mary enough. And had not Volterra himself been
encouraging the bandit-chief to drink to that
excess ? Then, too, was it not at my secret friend's
instigation that Philippo had consigned me to this
particular dungeon ? If the conjecture on my
part were right, was it not fair to presume that
Volterra had his own reasons for recommending
this special place for my incarceration ? Fright-
ful as it now appeared to be — shut up in so
narrow a compass of massive masonry without so
66.

much as a stool to sit upon or straw to recline
upon — the temporary hardship might nevertheless
prove one of the first steps towards my deliver-
ance.

Such were thi? more cheering reflections which
gradually succeeded the previous desponding ones ;
and I clung to the hope which they set forth as a
drowning man would to a straw. Scarcely
stronger however in my mind was that hope
than the feeble and only just perceptible
glimmering of light through the iron grating
on the arched roof of my dungeon. I could not
close my mental vision to the fact that my exist-
ence hung to a thread. If Angelo Volterra should
have miscalculated aught of his foreshadowed mode
of proceeding — if Philippo should prove at all sus-
picious, or if not suspicious, should become more
watchful and wary in his revengeful malignity
than Volterra anticipated — or if Marco Uberti
should regain a certain degree of consciousness

lOG

JOSEPH ■WHMOT; OE, the MEM0IE3 OP A MATT-SERVANT.

before Augelo had time and opportunity to act, —
all would be lost for me ! In a word, I saw that
there were a thousand strong chances against me
— but yet there was one for me ; and even though
this one was no brighter than the feeble and
almost imperceptible glimmering of the moon-
beams above, yet was it in the power of providence
to make it expand into a light as luminous as the
golden flood which the suu at noon-day pours upon
the hemisphere.

Time passed — the dawn was beginning to peep
in through the grating overhead — and hitherto I
had remained leaning against the massive door:
but now feeling utterly exhausted, I could no
longer resist the influence of weariness — and I
seated myself on the cold pavement. As I did so,
it struck me that a particular stone on which my
right hand rested as 1 thus sate down, moved
somewhat to the pressure. I thought that it must
be mere fancy ; and' yet for curiosity's sake I tried
again. Yes — it was no delusion : the flag-stone
did move : it was perceptibly loose in its setting.
To a captive under such circumstances, everything
is of moment: the slightest incident flashing in
unto the comprehension, is fraught with a mo-
mentary hope of discovering the means of escape.
Connected with old towers — the remnants of feudal
fortalices of other times — there are ever thoughts
and visions of strangely contrived trap-doors and
secret staircases ; and these ideas failed not Jto pire-
sent themselves to my imagination now. ' ■

Again I felt the stone — and more carefully than
before. I slowly passed my finger all round its
edge to ascertain its dimensions; and I found it to
be about a foot and a half wide and two feet long.
1 could unmistakably feel it move — but with a
very gentle oscillation. I felt all the other stones
forming the paVement-floor ; and they were as
firmly set as if they constituted but one immense
solid mass. The Ught from above was mucL too
feeble to aid me in this investigation: I was
therefore resolved to pursue it to the utmost of
my ability in the gloom which enveloped the place.
I had a knife in my pocket : for the banditti had
not rifled my person when making me their pri-
soner either in Florence or at Mr. Dorchester's
cave : that plundering process had no doubt been
so far a secondary consideration to the supreme one
of vengeance that they were most probably re-
serving it until perhaps the last moment. Taking
out my knife, I endeavoured to raise the stone ;
and in about ten minutes succeeded in lifting it
from its setting. The reader may possibly be
enabled to imagine the keen, the poignant, the
breathless suspense with which I thrust my hand
into the space beneath where the stone had been.
But that hand of mine encountered the head of no
secret staircase — touched no curiously-contrived
spring opening any other trap-door : all that it
grasped was a bundle of papers in a very narrow
space beneath where the stone had been ; and this
space I presently ascertained by the touch to be
the limit of a small tin-box sunk in the mortar
under the stone.

At first there was a feeling of disappointment ;
but the next instant a strange thought electrified
me. These papers, evidently concealed with so
much care, — what could they bo ? Was it possible
that they were the State- documents which Marco
Uberti had purloined from the ducal archives at

Florence, and which constituted the talisman of
his safety ? Yes — I felt that the conjecture was
most probably the true one : but of what use was
that important correspondence to me ? Only in
case of an escape from the tower, were it worth
while to devote another thought to the discovery
I had made. I would not conceal them about my
person — I would not even take possession of them ;
for I said to myself, " If by any possible accident
the banditti should relent, and if they should be
moved to spare my life, their better feelings would
be instantaneously changed into a rancour more
fierce and terrible than ever, were these papers
found upon me."

I therefore consigned them to the tin-box, and
dropped the stone hack into its setting.

Scarcely had I done this, when I heard the
bolts of the door being gently drawn back : then
the key was applied to the lock — it turned — and
the door opened.

'■'Hush, my young friend — it is I!" said the
well-known voice of Angelo Volterra.

" Oh ! thank God ! " I ejaculated, wijth a gush
of joy in my heart.

" HTush, hush ! Give not way to an excitement
that may prove dangerous ! " responded Vol-
terra.

" Yet let me again thank God ! " I murmured s
for Angelo's presence seemed the herald of hope.

He came without a light— but our hands were
imniediately joined : and the grateful pressure
which ihine bestowed upon his, conveyed to him
all I felt for whatsoever he might be attempting or
effecting in my behalf.

"Pardon my selfishness," he said in a hasty
manner : " but only one word — one word ! What
of Olivia?" ' •"'-■"■'■' '• ■

"She believes you Jionourable/' I answered;
" and the lettei- you addressed to me at Dicomano,
is in her possession."

Nov^ it was my turn to receive an assurance of
heartfelt gratitude conveyed by the warm pressure
of the hand j and Volterra murmured in a voice
full of emotion, " Millions of thanks, Joseph !
Oh, I will save you — or I will perish in the
attempt !"

"Is there really hope?" I asked — and the
reader may suppose with how much breathless
eagerness !

" Yes— but do not excite yourself "

" Oh ! tell me, tell me — is there indeed hope ?"

" Yes — there is every hope," he responded.
" Listen for a few moments. When that villain
Dorchester came to announce that you were in
safe custody at his cave, Marco Uberti was already
far gone with wine. My first thought was to
gallop away and to deliver you from that cave :

but I feared to be suspected for in that case,

Joseph," added Volterra, with solemn impressive-
ness, " I should have all in a moment seen the
ruin of an object which is dearer to me than even
my love for Olivia— dearer than even the bond of
friendship which links me unto you ! I was there-
fore compelled to act with caution. I knew that if
Uberti continued even only just able to breathe a few
words collectedly, your life when you were brought
befoi-e him, would not be worth an instant's pur-
chase. I therefore resolved to ply hiui well with
liquor. I played a part which, God know }, L hate
and detest. But, Oh ! even that was comparatively

JOSEPff WHMOT; OE, THB MBMOIES OP A MANSEEVAKT.

107

nothing to the violence I have had to put upon
my feelings since I first became But no mat-
ter ! Suffice it to observe that I performed the part
of the noisy, shouting:, uproarious reveller : and
you saw the result. Uberti was led on to drink
until he was in that state when it was impossible
for him to comprehend what was passing around.
Therein existed your safety !"

" Ob, you must indeed have done violence to your
feelings," I said, " to have joined in that loath-
some orgie !"

"Do not interrupt me— but listen, Joseph,"
continued Angelo Volterra. " Perhaps you noticed
that while shouting out a bacchanalian song I sud-
denly left off to give some hint to Philippo. I
spoke as if I hated you as much as all the other
banditti did ; and I said, ' Thrust him into that stone-
box behind the Captain's bed-room : for not so
much as a rat could manage to escape thence !' —
You might have seen how greedily the hint was
caught up. I had my motive. To consign you to
this dungeon, was to dispense with the necessity of
placing sentinels over you : that was one point. A
second was that I could obtain the key of this
massive door from the person of the intoxicated
bandit-chief at any moment which might seem
favourable to my design. For you saw that it was
kept in the miscreant's pocket with much care. I
bade Philippo be sure to restore it there after
your consignment here. The banditti are all now
sleeping ; the sentinel outside excepted — or at
least I believe and hope so. I will leave you for a
few minutes to go and see that the coast is clear j
and then I will return to ensure your escape."

" Oh ! suffer me not in the midst of a selfish
joy," I said, fervently pressing Volterra's hand,
" to be unmindful of your own safety. Will not
suspicion fall upon you ?"

" No— impossible !" answered Volterra. "When
you escape, I return to the banqueting-hall — I re-
store the key to Uberti's person — I deposit myself
upon the floor, where I just now pretended to fall
down overcome by liquor — as the bandits arouse
themselves I shall be seen sleeping, or at least ap-
pearing to sleep — I shall be one of the last to
anake, and therefore one of the last to be sus-
pected."

"Oh, Signer Volterra!" I exclaimed, still re-
taining his hand in my own, " when — when will
you quit this dreadful place ? when, when will you
leave a companionship which so ill becomes you,
and which I know that you so much loathe and
hate ?"

"My dear friend," answered the Italian, his
handsome countenance wearing a solemn expres-
sion— tor the dawn of morning now rendered the
dungeon as well as the adjacent room sufficiently
light for us to perceive each other, — " my dear
friend," he said, in a voice as solemn as his look,
" I have imposed upon myself a task which I have
vowed to accomplish or perish in the attempt. I
have registered an oath in heaven to that effect —
and it shall not be violated. Sooner or later I
must succeed : but I have to fathom a secret which
as yet dwells in the breast of Marco Uberti alone,
and which not even in his drunken orgies has he
ever betrayed. But that he will betray it, or that
I shall by some means discover it sooner or later,
I have the fullest faith. Already has he betrayed
one secret to me : and wherefore not the other ?

I will show you what that secret is which he has
thus betrayed. Yes — I will show you what it is.
Look ! — and learn the reason why the Captain
keeps the key of this dungeon continuously about
his own person !"

Thus speaking, Angelo Volterra pressed his band
against .the wall of the stone-tomb in a peculiar
manner ; and a portion of the masonry to the
extent of about a foot square, fell back like
a little door opening. At first I ;ould see
nothing: but Volterra bade me stoop down
and look in, or thrust my hand in and
feel. I did the latter ; and my fingers encountered
a vast quantity of coins. I raised a few : they
were heavy — and their chink told me that it was
all a golden treasure concealed in that recess. I
could now likewise catch a glimpse of it.

" It is his share of the booty, gained by years of
plunder," remarked Angelo Volterra : and touch-
ing another spring, the door of masonry flew back
into its setting. "Often and often has Uberti
spoken of resigning the command of the band, and
retiring to some foreign country to live upon his
riches : but on second thoughts he has kept his
position and persevered in his criminal avocation.
Perhaps he has fancied that he is not as yet
wealthy enough : or else he is so wedded to his
stormy mode of existence that he cannot bring
himself to abandon it. But I am wasting precious
time here "

"Ah !" I ejaculated, as a sudden thought struck
me: "this treasure-place which you have just
shown me, is not the only mystery of the dun-
geon."

" What mean you ?" demanded Volterra
eagerly.

" 1 mean," I answered rapidly — for a presenti-
ment had sprung up in my mind to a certain
effect, — " that accident revealed to me "

"What, what?" asked Volterra, with the live-
liest suspense.

"That beneath this stone a bundle of
papers "

"Papers?" echoed Volterra, as if in the wildest
joy. " O God, I thank thee if it should be so !"

Without an instant's c elay I drew forth my
knife ; and together we raised the stone. During
the few moments we were thus engaged, Angelo's
hand came in contact with mine ; and I could tell
by the touch that they were trembling with
nervous suspense — while his short quick breathing
proved that his excitment was great indeed. He
clutched the papers — he flew to the window of
Uberti's chamber — a glance at those documents
was sufficient — and then with every demonstration
of a wild and thrilling joy, he embraced me as if
I were his brother.

" Oh ! my dearest, dearest friend," he murmured,
in a voice broken by his strong emotions, " you know
not — you know not what happiness fills my soul !
My task is accompUshed — the secret is discovered
—and I flee hence with you !"

My presentiment was fulfilled : it was indeed
the discovery of those documents which was Angelo
Volterra's aim.

" God himself," continued the grateful Italian,
" threw you into the power of the banditti that all
this might be accomplished. Oh, how inscrutibl©
are His ways !"

He clasped his hands for a moment in the fer-

108

JOSEPH WIXirOT; O^ THE MEMOIRS OP A MAK-S2BVANT..

vour of his grateful piety j and then securing the
documents about his person, he said, " I will hasten
away for a few minutes to assure myself that all
is safe. I will return — and we will speed hence
together."

For precaution's sake he again locked and
bolted the door upon me ; and I restored the stone
to its setting. Ten minutes elapsed : they seemed
ten hours. Oh, what anxiety I endured ! what
agonizing suspense ! If anything should transpire
to prevent Volterra's return — if his noble treason
towards the brigands should be discovered — what
earthly hope was there for either of us in the
midst of that overpowering horde of ruffians ? At
length I heard footsteps approaching — the key
turned in the lock— the door opened — andVolterra
re-appeared. He had a cutlass by his side and a
brace of pistols stuck in his belt : he carried an-
other cutlass and another brace of pistols in his
hands.

"Arm yourself, Joseph," he said : '•' for though
all seems favourable to our purpose, yet peril may
start up at any moment, like a snake raising its
head from amidst its coils. If need be, you will
fight ?"

" To the very last drop of my blood !" I an-
swered, buckling on the belt to which the cutlass
was suspended, and then securing the pistols con-
veniently at the waist.

We shook hands as if thereby ratifying a com-
pact which two men surrounded with dangers had
formed to fight — and if necessary, die together:
and then we issued forth. I judged from the pre-
cautions Volterra thus took, as well as from the
solemn manner in which he had addressed me,
and the way in which he had pressed my hand,
that our position was almost a desperate one : but
I was nerved to encounter any peril. The corridor
was threaded — we reached the staircase, which we
descended.

" IJ^ow for the sentinel in the usual spot !" said
Volterra. '"' I do not wish to spill human blood
unnecessarily, even though it be that of one of
these ruffians ; but if need be, I slay him ! Ee-
main you here in the vestibule for a few moments :
but if you hear footsteps descending the stairs,
hasten to me at once in front of the stable-
door !"

Having thus spoken, Volterra walked away ;
and I remained in the vestibule — that same little
place, be it recollected, whence opened the door of
the cell where Olivia SackviUe was incarcerated
on the first memorable night of my acquaintance
with the brigands. Volterra proceeded towards
the angle of the building where the sentinel was
posted : but ere he reached it, the sentinel himself^
with shouldered firelock, and otherwise armed to
the teeth, emerged from round the corner. I stood
back in the doorway, so as to remain unperceived
by him : but yet! myself could see what was going
on. The man appeared by no means surprised to
observe Volterra thus armed : nor indeed was it
likely that he should discern anything suspicious
in that fact, considering that he regarded Angelo
as one of his comrades. Volterra stopped as if
in an easy leisurely manner to exchange a few
friendly words with the sentinel : but all in an in-
stant— as quick as the eye can wink — he tore his
musket from his grasp, and with the butt-end of it
struck him down. The fellow lay senseless ; and

just at that very same instant I heard footstep*
descending the stairs.

I remembered Volterra's injunction, that I wa»
at once to hasten to him in such a case : but that,
injunction was evidently given with the idea that
the conflict between himself and the sentinel would
take place round the angle of the building, at the
stable-door, and consequently out of sight of any
one emerging from that doorway where I stood.
^ov, therefore, whoever was descending could see
what was taking place : he would be at once
smitten with the conviction of treachery ; and even
though I tried to speed out of sight round the
angle, he would raise an alarm. I could tell that
it was only one person descending : the crisis was
momentous — the peril was infinite — and my mind
was made up how to act. I stepped forth from
the vestibule, and planted myself against the wall
just outside the doorway, — grasping my drawn
cutlass ia such a manner that its massive hilt
might serve the purpose of a club. Only a few
instants elapsed ere the footsteps reached the vesti-
bule : then a foot was thrust forth upon the door-
step— then the individual himself appeared— and
at the same moment I struck him down. It was
Philippe. He fell heavUy with a low moan : my
knee was instantaneously placed upon his breast —
my hand upon his mouth. But these precautions
were unnecessary : he was completely stunned —
but I saw that he was not dead.

Volterra, who had beheld this proceeding, beck
oned me to follow his example ; and that was to
drag my vanquished enemy round towards the
stable. This I speedily did : both the banditti
continued senseless — we dragged them into the
stable — and Volterra exclaimed, '• Bravely done,
my young friend ! Your presence of mind not less
than your courage has saved us. Quick to get the
horses in readiness 1"

Without an instant's loss of time, we proceeded
(o saddle a couple of the animals — but keeping the
while a good look-out, as we thought, upon the
two banditti. The saddles and bridles were put
on; and we were about to lead the horses forth,
when the sharp report of a pistol sounded through
the place — and my hat was knocked ofi by the
bullet. With scarcely a second's interval, another
pistol was fixed — fortunately however withoui hit-
ting either of us. Philippe having raised himself
to a sitting posture, had done this ; and now he
made a desperate efibrt to gain his legs and draw
his han^jer — but we overpowered him in a moment.
A second blow from Volterra's weapon struck him
down senseless again : hia comrade, the sentinel,
continued inanimate; and we made aU. possible
despatch to get the horses out of the place.

But scarcely had we reached the open air, whea
we beheld Marco Ubertl staggering towards us.

The quick excited glance which we both flung
around showed us that the bandit-captain was
alone ; and then the looks which we the next in-
stant exchanged, proved to one another that we
were each simultaneously smitten with the same
idea. The brigand-chief had stopped short in a
species of drunken bewilderment at what he be-
held, and which he could not understand. We
precipitated ourselves upon him — we hurled him
to the ground — I thrust my kerchief into his
mouth — while Volterra with his own tied the ruf-
fian's hands behind his back. Then we lifted him

JOSEPH WILMOT; OE, THE MEMOIES OF A MAV-SERVANT.

109

across the front part of the saddle of Volterra's
powerful steed, to which the latter sprang — while
I leaped upon the back of the one prepared for
myself. Our looks again sweeping round, showed
us that the coast was still clear : and we galloped
away. Oh, the wild exultation of that moment
when we thus left the bandits' tower behind !

CHAPTEK C.

VOITEEEA'S EXPLANATIOB'S.

Maeco TJbeeti was for some minutes so com-
pletely stupified by all that had taken place, and
the position in which he was thrown, that he lay
like an inert mass across Volterra's steed. The
animal, as already said, was a powerful one, and
therefore at first bore his double burthen bravely :
but it was quite evident that the journey could not
be continued with ileetness for any length of time
under such circumstances. When we were at a
distance of about a mile, I suggested that the gag
should be taken from the brigand-captain's mouth,
for fear lest he became suffocated and justice
thus cheated of its due. Volterra consented : it
was accordingly done; and then Uberti, after
several heavy gasps, began to speak. Angelo
answered him sternly as well as menacingly ;
and he explained to me that the miscreant, now
well nigh sobered by the complete sense of his
position, was begging hard to be set free. Our
journey was continued in the direction of that
village where I on previous occasions had taken
up my quarters ; and during our progress thither
the discomfited and crestfallen Uberti made nu-
merous vain appeals for mercy to be shovra unto
him.

We reached the village; and, as the reader
may suppose, immense was the sensation which
was excited when it became known that the indi-
vidual who hung like an inert mass across Vol-
terra's steed was the hitherto terrible ))%ndit Marco
Uberti. All the inhabitants — men, women, and
children — flocked forth from their dwellings ; and
a little procession was formed to the inn. There I
was at once recognized and welcomed by the land-
lord and the domestics — aye, and doubly welcome
too when they found - that I had been partly in-
strumental in capturing the formidable brigand.
The Mayor speedily arrived ; and as an attack on
the part of the bandit-horde was apprehended,
when it was learnt that they had not been dis-
persed by any means, but had been left at their
tower, all the men of the village flew to arm them-
selves in the best way that they could. Pitchforks
were seized upon — scythes were grasped — a few
old swords were sharpened up— rusty fire-arms
were burnished— all was bustle and excitement.
Meanwhile the crest-fallen Uberti, now gloomy
and sullen, was consigned to a room where half-a-
dozen sturdy peasants mounted guard upon him ;
and Volterra and myself sate down to a hastily
prepared breakfast, while a vehicle was being
gotten in readiness. Never did I so much enjoy a
lueal ! I was not merely happy — my feelings ,
were those of enthusiastic exultation. In con-
trast with the hideous perils through which I had
passed, I had the most joyous sense of life and ,

liberty : I had aided in capturing the formidable
brigand ; and Providence had led me to a disco-
very which enabled Angelo Volterra, whom I so
much esteemed, to quit the loathsome companion-
ship of those brigands whom he abhorred. Had I
not every reason to be joyous and happy ? And
Volterra too, — he evidently experienced a kindred
feeling : he assured me that he did — and the
animation of his handsome countenance reflected
the blissful glow which inspired his heart.

The vehicle was in readiness ; and Marco Uberti,
firmly bound hand and foot with strong cords, was
thrust inside. Volterra and I entered afcerwards ;
we were well armed — and we required no assist-
ance to keep our prisoner in secure custody. The
chaise drove out of tLe village amidst the enthu-
siastic cheers of the inhabitants.

Marco Uberti— perceiving that all entreaties
were vain, and that we were resolute in handing
him over to the grasp of justice — had shut himself
up, as already stated, in a sullen reserve. He
knew not that his valuable papers were in Vol-
terra's possession ; and he therefore probably
flattered himself that they might once more prove
the talisnjan of his safety. Angelo did not con-
descend to give him any explanation on the point ;
and the ruffian, lounging back in the corner of the
vehicle, closed his eyes, and either slept or ap-
peared to do so,

"You are doubtless anxious, my dear young
friend," said Angelo Volterra, " to receive some
explanations relative to my purpose in having con-
sorted with the miscreants of whom this man was
the chief. You have seen that my aim was to
procure possession of these papers which I have
about me, and which Providence has this day
thrown into my hands. Yes — that was my aim in
joining the banditti : but I had still another pur-
pose to serve — a higher and a nobler one ; and on
this point you must suspend your curiosity for only
a few hours, because I feel that there is another
who is as much entitled as yourself — pardon me for
saying even, more entitled, under all circum-
stances "

" Yes," I exclaimed, well able to enter into his
feelings : " the first word of explanation on any
dearly cherished point must be given to her whom
you love !"

" Thank you, my dear friend, for this forbearance
on your part," responded Volterra: "and rest
assured that as I have the inclination so I also
possess the means to testify all my friendship to-
wards you. But let me continue to give explana-
tions relative to that point whereon I may touch.
This fellow" — glancing towards Uberti—" under-
stands not the English language in which we are
speaking ; and even if he did, it would matter but>
little."

Volterra paused for a few moments, and then
continued in the following manner :—

"Manymonths haveelapsed since the idea first en-
tered my head that I would throw myself amongst
Marco Uberti's banditti, in the hope of obtaining
possession of those State documents which I knew
that he had purloined from the ducal palace at
Florence. I adopted an assumed name — for that
of Angelo Volterra is not my right one ; and I
went boldly to Marco Uberti's stronghold. I an-
nounced myself as a man who by some heinous
crime had rendered himself an outlaw ; and I offered

110

JosEvn wilm:ot; or, the memoirs op a man-sertant.

my assistance. I spoke with a hardy frankness,
and assumed an air which was best calculated to
make an impression upon the bandit-chief. I suc-
ceeded ; and he appeared anxious to number me
amongst his retainers. Eut I offered xaj services
only in a particular way; I proposed that, availing
myself of my appearance, my manners, and so
forth, I should frequent the adjacent towns on
both sides of the Etruscan Apennines — ascertain
the hours at which travellers were to start — esti-
mate whether they were worth plundering — and
learn t-he precise roads they were to take, — all of
which information I was with the least delay to
carry to the tower. A spy of this kind was pre-
cisely what Marco Uberti Wanted ; and he readily
accepted my proposals. You will understand that
by the very duty I thus undertook — or rather was
supposed to undertake— I was incapacitated from
julaing the band in their plundering enterprises,
because, as Marco Uberti himself suggested, if I
■were recognised by postilions, guides, and couriers,
it would speedily become dangerous for me to fre-
quent the neighbouring towns. You may easily
conceive that it was my study at the very outset
to procure this exemption from a participation in
the banditti's predatory proceedings ; and by the
course I adopted my purpose was served : namely,
to procure a footing amongst them. I need not tell
you, Joseph, that I never on any single occasion
gave such information as led to the interception
of travellers : but on the contrary, I availed my-
self of every opportunity to recommend the very
roads which I knew might be most safely taken.
In the case of Lord Eingwold's party some months
back, I did all I could to put the banditti upon
another scent— a false one, of course : but the out-
burst of that storm caused a delay with your
party which deranged all my calculations ; and thus
you fell into the hands of the brigands. Fre-
quently would I ride forth from the tower by
night, under the pretence of stopping lonely way-
farers—but in reality to warn away those whom
I might encounter in dangerous proximity to the
tower ; and of this you had a proof on the
memorable night that you came disguised thither.
Indeed, it was soon seen that I brought no useful
information from the neighbouring towns : but, on
the other hand, I was continuously taking gold to
the banditti, with the assurance that it was the
spoil derived from plundered wayfarers. You
will ask how I obtained these supplies ? My dear
friend, I am rich— and the intendaut of my estates
made me frequent remittances to Pistoja, or else-
where, according to the instructions I sent him.
But because I brought no useful information from
the towns on either side the Etruscan Apennines,
the banditti did not suspect my good faith : they
supposed that I had a deficiency of aptitude for
the business I bad seemed to undertake : for on
the other hand, those frequent sums of money
•which I poured into the general treasury, gave
them the highest opinion of me, and made them
look upon me as one who was as bold and success-
ful in the avocations of a highwayman as he
was imbecile in the capacity of a spy."

Here Marco Uberti opened his eyes, and looked

from the chaise- window — doubtless to ascertain

which road we were taking ; and having satistieJ

himself, he sank back to slumber— or seeming

' slumber — again.

" By the means I have explained to you," con«
tinned Yolterra, " I succeeded in establishing
myself firmly in the confidence of the banditti.
In every respect I sought to adapt myself to their
tastes and customs— except with regard to ap-
parel ; for I always dressed as a private gentle-
man. I joined them in their orgies, and played
my part so well that while in reality I drank with
the extremest moderation, I appeared to plunge
as deep into the revelry as they. I was always
ready with a song : and when there was an oppor-
tunity to talk fierce and big, without inflicting
actual harm on any one, I omitted not to do so,
You can easily comprehend that on the three or
four occasions when prisoners were brought to
the stronghold, I was painfully compelled to ab*
stain from aiding them, except in the cases of
Miss Sackville and yourself. I dared not as a
general rule render that succour which despite of
all precautions would have laid me open to a sus«
picion not merely fatal to my life — for that I
would have risked — but destructive of the lofty
aim I had in view. Therefore, whenever pri*
soner3 were brought to the stronghold— and it
was on rare occasions — I endeavoured to avoid
being seen by them, for the natural purpose of
preventing future recognition ; but m the ona
case of the English gentleman who subsequently
denounced me at Dicomano, I was by an accident
thrown in his way for a few minutes. I hope that/
I shall meet him again that I may convince liiai
of his error."

" I recollect him well," I observed ; " and rest
assured that should I ever see him, I shall nob
fail to disabuse him with regard to you."

'•'I have but little more to say," resumed An«
gelo Volterra, " with respect to my existence
amongst the banditti. You can easily understand
how odious such an existence was to me, and what
efforts it must have cost me to repress my feelings
of aversion at their vile language and their nltuy
orgies. I should remark that no deed of blood
was perpetrated by them during the whole time I
was in thei» midst : for rest assured that if the
life of an unfortunate traveller, when imprisoned
at the tower, had been at stake, I should have
incurred any risk in order to save it."

" As you did mine !" I interjected, with grate*
ful fervour. '■ Oh, I can indeed comprehend how
terrible and revolting an existence amongst thoso
banditti must have been !"

"And you may therefore suppose, my deai?
friend," rejoined Volterra, " that I was cheered
and sustained by some strong hope, and that I had
an end to gain for which that life which I thus
voluntary rendered so miserable should have been
gladly given up. My purpose was paramount;
over all other considerations; and in order that
from the very outset I might remain staunch to
it, I registered an oath in heaven that I would
never abandon my feigned name, nor resume what-
soever honour or distinction may be attached to
my real one, until I had accomplished the solemn,
sacred object which I had in ^new. You may
judge that this object is solemn anu sacred indeed,
when even my love for an amiable aca beautiful
creature was made secondary thereto— wtien from
her knowledge even has my real name been con-
cealed— and when my character being at stake, I
did not choose to pronounce the one word which

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OB, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERTANT.

Ill

should have cleared it up in a moment, but was
compelled to have recourse to your kind interven-
tion through the medium of that letter which I
addressed to you at Dicomano. But now, thank
heaven, I stand on the very threshold of success ;
and when everything is explained, I believe ■with-
out vanity that I shall experience the admiration
and the approval of all within whose knowledge
my romantic tale may come. In a few hours,
Joseph, you will know everything ; and then you
will indeed rejoice that you placed confidence in
my integrity, and that you lent me your generous
succour when my reputation was on the verge of
ruin in the eyes of Lord Eingwold's daughter."

As the conversation reached this point, the
chaise entered a small town where we were to
change horses : for Volterra htd ordered the driver
to take a more direct road to Florence than that
by Pistoja — the latter being only preferred in
general as being the better one of the two. In
order to avoid excitement in the town, and equally
to evade the necessity of giving explanations, it
was determined to keep it secret that Marco
Uberti was a prisoner in the chaise ; and the
driver being bribed with gold, faithfully held his
peace upon the subject. Our journey was re-
sumed ; and it was yet early in the forenoon when
we entered the vale of Arno, in the midst of which
stands the beautiful city of Florence.

" I shall put you down at the entrance of the
capital," said Volterra ; " and you will forgive me if
I suggest this arrangement. Think not, however,
that it is my purpose selfishly to rob you of your due
share of the honour of this villain's capture. You
will see, on the contrary, that my behaviour
towards you will be in everj respect that of a sin-
cere friend."

" Act according to your own discretion, signor,"
I replied : " for I am confident that jou are inspired
by the best possible motives."

" Thanks for this renewed proof of your trust-
fulness in me," responded Volterra. " You will
return to the hotel : but I beg of you that my
name may not be in any way mentioned — that no
allusion may be made to me. I repeat that in the
course of a few hours you will know everything !"

'•' Say no more, signor," I interrupted him ;
"your will shall be my law. And yet," I con-
tinued, as a thought struck me, " I shall have to
explain how I was carried ofi" by the banditti ; and
if Miss SackvUle should privately inquire whether
I have seen you "

" Tell her 7/es, Joseph ! Say what you think
fit," replied Angelo : " but one thing you must not
mention — and this is that I have accompanied you
to Florence. I have my own reasons for keeping
my presence a secret for a few hours ; and after
all you have said, I know that you will not seek
to penetrate them."

The chaise had now entered the d^j ; and Vol-
terra commanded the driver to stop. I alighted j
and Angelo shook me by the hand, saying, " Fare-
well for the present, my gallant young friend !"

Marco Uberti had opened his eyes and looked
from the window when the vehicle thus stopped :
but he threw himself back in the corner again with
a kind of surly hsllessness — and I walked away.
The driver received some further instruction from
Volterra; and the chaise rolled onward in another
direction from that which I was taking.

As T proceeded to the hotel, I could scarcely be-
lieve that within a few short hours so many thrill-
ing and astounding incidents had occurred : the
space seemed infinitely too limited to encompass
such a variety of transactions. Yet it was only
since the preceding evening that I had been absent
from Florence ; and now that I was threading those
streets again, it actually appeared as if I had
merely been hurried through the shifting phases
of a wild and faiiciful dream. I had read in
oriental tales of persons being taken up in their
beds at night by good or evil genii — transported
to some spot thousands of miles oft' — hurried
through a rapid series of adventures — carried back
to their own homes — and left to awake in the
morning to marvel whether it were all a vision, or
whether it had positively occurred. So it now
seemed with me. My capture by the banditti —
my journey into the Apennines— my escape from
Pfailippo — my adventure with Mr. Dorchester
in his cave — my removal to the tower — my im-
murement there — my discovery of the papers —
my emancipation by Volterra's aid — the circum-
stances of our escape — the accident which threw
the bandit-chief into our hands — our journey
to Florence — and my safe arrival here, — it
did indeed appear to be nothing but a wild
romantic dream ! The whole series of adven-
tures have taken entire chapters to narrate
them — life and death had hung in the balance —
and yet but comparatively a few hours sufficed
for the enacting of all this !

On reaching the hotel, the first person whom I
met was Lord Eingwold's valet, and he said, with
a sly laugh, " Y'ou are a nice young fellow, Joseph,
to remain out all night in this dissipated way, and
return here at such an hour. It is lucky for you
that you have got a master who instead of being
angry, is very uneasy— and instead of attributing
your absence to a little piece of rakishness, pro-
claims his apprehension that some evil has befallen
you."

" Let me at once assure you," I said, " that
you are altogether wrong in jumping to a conclu-
sion so little creditable to my character ; and when
you come to know all, you will be surprised
enough."

" Then what Tias happened ?" asked the valet,
all his curiosity excited.

" I cannot stay to tell you now," I quickly re-
sponded. " You say that my master is uneasy —
and I must speed to him."

I accordingly hurried up the stairs ; and on the
landing I met Bessy, Miss Olivia's maid— who with
a cold look observed, " I am really astonished,
Joseph, at your conduct. I gave you credit for
being a steady, well-behaved young man. And
Miss Sackville too, who held the same opinion, is
very much grieved "

"Then my master," I exclaimed, "is the only
one who does not prejudge me harshly !"

"There ! I'm glad you have said that !" rejoined
Bessy, smiling. " I only made the observation
and looked cool in order to draw you out at once ;
and I can tell you that Miss Sackville has all the
morning exjjressed her conviction that some acci-
dent had befallen you. She is not ungrateful,
Joseph — and I can assure you that she has been
considerably agitated on your account."

" 1 am glad," 1 said, my countenance brighten-

113

JOSEPH WIIMOT; OR, THE MEMOIKS OF A MA3T- SEETANT.

ing up, "that you were not really disposed to,
think evil of me. I have met with the strangest i

adventures but you shall know all pre- '

sently."

Having thus spoken, I sped to Captain Eay-
mond's apartment; and he sprang up from his
seat with an exclamation of joy,— crying, " What
on earth has become of you all this time ? I have
been to give information to the police : for I
dreaded lest some evil had overtaken you."

I proceeded to explain to my wondering master
Low I had been carried off by the banditti— and
how, after divers adventures, I had managed to
escape. I bo worded my tale that there was no
necessity to mention Volterra's name; and the
Captain did not make the slightest allusion to it.
It was naturally a delicate and even a sore sub-
ject with him — though he doubtless suspected that
Angelo had once again proved a good friend in
need to me. He reiterated the assurances of his
joy at my return ; and I hastened up to my own
chamber to perform my ablutions and make a
requisite change in my toilet. Indeed, I felt so
wearied that I could not resist the temptation to
lie down to rest : and I slept soundly for about
three hours.

"When I awoke, and had performed my lavations
as well as dressed myself in a suitable manner, I
descended from the chamber, — wondering when I
should again hear of Angelo Volterra, and what
means he intended to adopt to convey the promised
explanations to whomsoever they concerned. Bessy
was on the look-out for me on the landing below :
she hastily beckoned me to follow her — and I com-
plied with the silent request. I was conducted
into that same room where on a previous occasion
I had imparted to Miss Sackville intelligence con-
cerning her lover : she was now there, anxiously
awaiting to see me. Bessy retired ; and I re-
mained alone with Lord Eingwold's daughter. I
could not help thinking, as I contemplated her,
with her light brown hair showering in myriads of
ringlets upon her well formed shoulders — with
her shape so symmetrically modelled, although
upon a large scale— her blue eyes now full of the
anxious suspenseful feeling which was no doubt
making her heart flutter— and the red lips apart,
revealing the pearly teeth, — I could not help
thinking, I say, that she was one well deserving
the love of that Italian who, I felt assured, would
prove himself to be equally worthy by social posi-
tion, as he had already convinced me he was by
disposition and character, of that patrician lady's
hand. I bowed on entering the room — but
waited for her to question me.

"You have again experienced thrilling and
startling adventures ?" she said, addressing me as
if speaking to an equal with whom she was on
friendly terms. " Captain Eaymond has told my
father that much — and my father has mentioned
it in my presence. But no allusion was
made "

" Before I speak upon that subject. Miss Sack-
ville," I said, " permit me to express my gratitude
for the good opinion you entertained of me — inas-
much as you were most kindly apprehensive on my
account, and could not believe that I was absent
through having been beguiled into dissipation."

" I certainly did entertain too high an opinion
of you," answered Miss Sackville, " to suppose for

an instant that you had fallen into temptations ;
and most sincerely do I congratulate you on your
escape from those fresh perils in which you have
been involved. But is it possible that the dread-
ful brigand-chief is captured at last, and through
your agency ?"

" I certainly had soroe little hand therein, Mi?3
Sackville," I responded : " but the principal credit
was due to another .-"—and I looked at her signifi-
cantly.

"Another?" she murmured, instantaneously
comprehending what I meant; and then in the
same low voice, but with a holy animation upon
her countenance, she said, " God be thanked ! —
this, then, is another proof that he is all honourable
and upright !"

" Yes, Miss Sackville— of this rest assured," I
answered fervently ; " and I think I may go so far
as to promise that the time is not now very remote
when everything will be explained."

" Oh, that it may be so !" she murmured, with.
accents and looks of earnest entreaty, as if thus
appealing to Heaven to give my promise a speedy
fulfilment. " I do not mind telling you — no, I do
not mind confessing that in one sense, Joseph, I
am very, very unhappy. My father, hitherto so
kind and so indulgent, has conjured — nay, more,
he has commanded me to look upon Captain Eay-
mond "

She stopped short — and a blush of bashfulnesa
suffused itself over her countenance, aa if she felt
that it was not altogether to one of my sex that
such confidential revealings should be made.

'•' But surely," I said, in a mild and gentle voice,
" Captain Eaymond is not so ungenerous as thus,
to urge his suit when he has acquired the positive
knowledge that his overtures are not welcome ?"

"I am afraid," replied Miss Sackville, with,
downcast looks, and the blush still upon her cheeks,
" that you in the generosity of your own heart are
inclined to give Captain Eaymond credit for more
magnanimity than he indeed possesses. Yes — I
fear that you judge him too well — at all events in
this instance. I know that he has been speaking
very seriously with my father — I know that he
has, from the way in which my mother has been
addressing me :" — then, after a brief pause, during'
which Miss Sackville evidently found it difficult to
subdue the sobs which were swelling to burst forth,
she added in a voice which was scarcely audible,
" They insist that I shall marry him ! — my parents
are urging me now to accompany him to the altar
— they seek to precipitate the alliance, doubtless
fancying that when once his bride, I shall think no
more of him "

She did not mention the name : but I knew full
well that her heart was full of the image of the
handsome and well-beloved Italian.

" They cannot coerce you. Miss Sackville," I
ventured to observe.

" Ifo !" she exclaimed, suddenly raising her
looks with an expression of most dignified resolve :
" no power on earth can compel me to give my
hand where my heart is not engaged ! I know

not how it is that I am saying all this to you

I feel as if I were speaking to a friend— to a
brother. And yet it is natural enough ! You
are in Angelo's confidence "

" Yes, Miss Sackville," I answered significantly,
— " and now more so than ever."

JOSEPH WILMOT; OB, THE MBMOIE3 OP A MAN-SEEVANX

"All, wbat mean you?" she exclaimed, gazing
upon ine with mingled joy and suspense. '•' I sea
that all you do know of him is really good — that
your former favourable opinion has been con-
firmed, and not marred. Oh, doubtless all my
former conjectures were correct — and he went
amongst those bandits for the very best of pur-
poses!—he went to save those who might fall into
their hands— to baffle their fiendish schemes, and
to disperse them at last. Tell me, Joseph— is it
not 80 ?"

'•' Much of what you have imagined, Miss Sack-
ville, has been done," I rejoined ; " and doubtless
the dispersion of the banditti will follow close
upon the capture of their chief. But at present

I can say no more unless it be to bid you

cherish the assurance that all will yet be well."

At this moment the door opened ; and Bessv
entered with quickness, saying, " Messengers have
arrived from the palaee— Captain Eavmond is in-
67.

quiring for you, Joseph— my lord and her lady-
ship are asking for you. Miss Sackville."

Olidaflungupon me a look expressive of gratitude
for the assurance I had just given her ; and I hurried
from the room. On ascending to my master's
apartment, he said to me, " A singular messTge
has just arrived from the ducal palace. I am com-
manded to proceed thither ; and it is ' especially
enjoined that you accompany me. Doubtless the
object of this mandate is in connexion with the
banditti of the Apennines. Lord Ringwold and
his family are likewise summoned thither. Yes —
it must be— my conjecture is the right one — it ia
to give evidence respecting the outrage we all ex.
perienced at the hands of Marco Uberti and his
followers."

Having hastily put out the garments which Cap-
tain Eaymond required, I ascended to my chamber,
to make some little improvement to my own toilet ;
and by the time I had finished, Lord Eingwold'a

114

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OE, THE MEMOIRS OJ? A MAN-SEEVANT.

carriage was in reafliness to convey us to the ducal
palace. Captain Eaymond handed Olivia into the
vehicle ; and I observed that her manner towards
him was coldly lady -like — distant without rude-
ness— reserved without unl'eminine hauteur. I as-
cended to the bos; and the equipage drove gff.
While it was proceeding towards the palace, I was
lost in wonder at the proceeding which was now
to develope itself. As a matter of course I fully
comprehended that it had some reference to the
affairs of Angelo Volterra, and perhaps to i,he cap-
tured brigand : but if the period had iiow come
fur Angelo's promised explanations, I was totally
at a loss to conceive why they were to take place
at the ducal dwelling, and not under those circum-
stances of privacy which their delicate nature
would have seemed to render desirable. However,
I had not much time for conjecture : for the equi-
page speedily turned into the court-yard of the
ducal palace

Au usher immediately came forth — or was in-
deed already in waiting — to receive Lord Eingwold
and his party ; and with many profound bows he
prepared to lead the way into the interior of the
palace. I hung back somewhat, with a natural
timidity lest in my position as a menial I should
happen to intrude, or press forward at an earlier
stage of the proceedings than that at which
my presence would be really required. But the
gentleman-usher, looking round, and observing that
I hesitated to follow, at once accosted me, saying
in French, " I presume that you are the young
Englishman who bears the name of Joseph Wil-
mot ?"

I. bowed, and replied in the affirmative.

" Tlien you are to accompany the rest," the
gentleman-usher at once said.

Having thus spoken, he continued to lead the
way up a private staircase, into an ante-room, —
where several noblemen with stars upon their
breasts, officers in uniform, and other officials of
the palace, were conversing together in groups.
Two pages drew aside a superb curtain of purple
velvet — gilded folding doors flew open on their
noiseless hinges — and we passed on into a spacious
and sumptuously furnished apartment, where the
Grand Duke was seated at a table on which there
were a great number of papers. Those gilded
portals closed behind us : the gentleman-usher had
stopped short upon the threshold — he had not ac-
companied us— and we five (Lord and Lady Ring-
wold, the Hon. Miss Olivia Sackville, Captain
Haymond, and myself) thus passed on, unattended
and unannounced, into the ducal presence.

The Sovereign of Tuscany rose from his seat,
and with dignified affability bowed an acknow-
ledgment of our salutations. He motioned us
all to be seated on chairs ready arranged along
the opposite side of the table to that where he
himself was placed ; and when I hesitated, he
looked hard at me, but with a gaze of mingled
kindness and curiosity ; and speaking in French,
said, as his usher before had done, " You must be
Joseph Wilmot?"

1 bowed : but feeling somewhat confused, gave
no verbal answer.

" Be seated," said the Grand Duke : and with
the most gracious affability he waved his hand
towards the chair which, mindful of my menial
position, I had been at first hesitating to take.

[ But still, after I had obeyed the ducal invitation,
his Royal Highness continued to survey me for
some few moments longer, with that same curiosity
[ and interest which he had already displayed.
I " I have requested your attendance here," he
j said, still speaking in the French language, and
I addressing us all collectively, without suffering his
eyes to settle upon any one in particular, "because
j I have matters of certain importance to communi-
cate. First of all however, let me put a case to
you. If you were told that a man made every
personal sacrifice— incurred the most terrible risks
j — for months and months continuously held bis
I life in such jeopardy that the faintest breath of
suspicion would have been enough to snap the
hair which retained the .dagger suspended over
him, — if you were told that this man, accustomed
to all the elegances and refinements of society,
voluntarily threw himself into the midst of the
refuse and the outcasts, the vilest and the lowest of
that same society, — and if it were told you in ad-
dition that this man had incurred all those perils
and encountered all those circumstances of loathing
and of horror, for the sake of benefiting a relative
who W'as most near and dear to him, — what, I ask
you, would be your opinion of such a man ?"

Lord and Lady Ringwold looked at each other
as if totally bewildered what response to give, and
utterly unable to comprehend the Grand Duke's
aim and meaning. I perceived, however, that it
was somewhat different with Captain Eaymond :
for by his looks he evidently had some vague pre-
sentiment or suspicion of to whom the Grand
Duke's query related. But Olivia, with love's
keen penetration, did not merely conjecture, but
felt certain who the individual was that the ducal
words thus pointed at — though she was still com-
pletely at a loss to imagine for what reason those
great personal sacrifices had been made by the in-
dividual referred to. I in this same respect was
equally in the dark.

"You do not answer me," continued the Grand
Duke; "and therefore I must go on speaking.
The individual to whom I have referred, is known
to you all; and the loss of reputation in the eyes
of at least some of you, has not proved the least of
the many painful sacrifices he has had to endure
in working out his noble aim. But now that this
aim is accomplished — now that success has crowned
that toil of self- martyrdom — his spirit, as sensitive
as it is noble, chafeo with impatience to clear up
his character in the estimation of those who still
continue to believe that he was really that which
he has only seemed to be. Everything has been
explained to me ; and for many reasons have I
taken it upon myself to become the medium of
these communications unto you. Listen : I must
tell you a tale. Some years ago documents of the
utmost importance were abstracted from the ducal
archives, and carried off by a man who has since
rendered himself so terrible as the captain o£
banditti. This man is Marco Uberti. The docu-
ments which he thus purloined, were of such grave
importance — no matter wherefore — that in my
anxiety to repossess them, I often and often vowed
in the hearing of my Ministers and courtiers, that
to any man who should become the means of
restoring them to me, I would grant whatsoever
boon he might think fit to demand, with only such
reservations as were proper and becoming to lu .'

JOSErH WILMOT ; OE, THE MEMOIRS OP A MAN-SERVANT.

115

own honour and dignity. The individual to whom
I just now alluded, and of whose noble self-
sacrifices I have spoken, resolved to risk his life in
. the endeavour to obtain possession of the docu-
ments. For that reason he threw himself amongst
the banditti of the Etruscan Apennines : he herded
with them — he consorted with them : — but rest
assured that he never became a party to their
crimes! On the contrai-y, he was happily the
means of frustrating much of the evil which they
meditated ; and in a word, he so bore himself that
during the long months he was amongst them,
he never was led into aught detrimental to his
character, whatever he may have seen that was
shocking or repulsive to his feelings. Now you
can all full well understand to whom I aUude : it
is he whom you have known by the name of
Angelo Volterra 1"

The glow of mingled joy and feminine modesty
— wild, thrilling, exultant joy, and virgin bash-
fulness— overspread the countenance of Olivia
Sackville ; and then, as the tears of joy likewise
trickled from her eyes, she raised her kerchief
to that blushing downcast face of her's. Captain
Eayraond looked surprised at all he had heard :
and he flung a glance upon me — a glance which
gave me to understand that the naturally generous
feelings of his disposition, awakened by this ro-
mantic tale, had grown dominant over the selfish-
ness and jealousy of his love. As for Lord and
Lady Ringwold, they appeared to be not merely so
amazed at what they had heard, but likewise so
emburrassed by the awkward position in which they
felt themselves placed, that they were perfectly be-
wildered how to act. With regard to myself, I
need only say that I experienced a joy almost if
not quite as lively as that which Olivia Sackville
herself evidently felt : for if any confirmation of
Angelo Volterra's tale had been wanting, it was
now completely supplied by the unquestionable
authority of Tuscany's Sovereign himself.

"Therefore," resumed his Eoyal Highness, " the
aim of him whom you have hitherto known as
Angelo Volterra, was to obtain possession of those
State documents which were purloined from the
palace. And he has succeeded. That excellent
young man " — and here the Grand Duke bent his
eyes upon me — " was no mean assistant, under
Heaven's direction, in crowning with success the
object of him who is and ever will be his friend.
Those valuable papers are again in my possession;
and what is more, the unscrupulous brigand him-
self is in the hands of justice. Think, you, there-
fore, that for a moment I have hesitated to grant
the boon which has been demanded of me in fulfil-
ment of my princely word ? No — it is vouchsafed;
and a messenger is by this time many miles on his
way to Vienna to demand the liberation of my
nephew, the Marquis of Cassano, from the Austrian
fortress in which he is imprisoned, — that libera-
tion to procure which so many noble self-sacrifices
have been made by his loving and affectionate
younger brother— also my nephew — the Count of
Livorno."

Scarcely had any of us a moment's leisure to
recover from the surprise with which this an-
nouncement of Angelo Volterra's real name, rank,
and position threw us, when the Grand Duke agi-
tated a silver bell which lay before him upon the
table : a side-door opened ; and the object of all

interest — Angelo Volterra now no more, but the
Count of Livorno — a scion of the ducal family —
wearing a handsome Court costume, with a glitter-
ing star upon his breast — made his appearance.
Oh ! love was potent theri—theit feeling was pre-
dominant over all other considerations : forgotten
was the presence of parents and rival-claimant
for her hand — forgotten too was all restraint which
the presence of the Tuscan Sovereign might
otherwise have imposed ; and Olivia Sackville,
with a wild cry of joy, bounded forward and was
clasped in her lover's arms.

" My lord," said Captain Eaymond, much moved
by all that he had heard and by what he now
witnessed, — " my lord," he said, hastily addressing
himself to Olivia's father — " and you likewise, my
lady, I beseech you to see, as I do, that the finger
of Providence is in all this. I am a man of the
world — and a man of pleasure : perhaps I have
never thought seriously enough of divine things,
and of the duties which they teach : therefore
when you hear such an one as I am declare the
conviction that God himself has decreed that these
two shall go together to the altar, it must have
its weight with you !"

Captain Eaymond's generosity was not lost upon
Lord and Lady Eingwold ; but perhaps likewise
the little tinge of selfishness which certainly be-
longed to their dispositions, was thrown equally
into the same scale. I mean that perhaps through
their minds flashed the conviction that the Count
of Livorno, a reigning monarch's nephew, was
even a more eligible match for their daughter than
an English commoner though with a peerage in
the prospective. At all events they grasped Cap-
tain Eaymond's hands : and thus, with a joyous
bounding at the heart, I perceived that every
barrier to the happiness of the lovers was broken
down. Captain Eaymond advanced towards the
Count of Livorno, from whose embrace Olivia
Sackville had only just disengaged herself, but to
whose arm she clung trembling with happiness
and hope, joy and suspense ; and he said, " My
lord, will you condescend to accept the hand of
one who under certain circumstances has wronged
you much .''"

The Count of Livorno, who had not failed to
observe that little scene betwixt his former rival
and Olivia's parents, at once took the Captain's
outstretched hand, — exclaiming, " Under the cir-
cumstances you were justified in putting the worst
construction upon my conduct and character.
Henceforth we will be friends."

"Yes, friends!" added Captain Eaymond em-
phatically, as if to assure Olivia that all rivalry
between himself and the Count was now over.
"And might I entreat for pardon," continued
Eaymond, his looks settling more significantly
still upon Olivia's countenance, — '■ might 1 venture
to expect "

The generous-hearted young lady interrupted
him by proffering her hand; and thus within a few
moments all rivalries, animosities, rancours, and
fears, in respect to the love of that tender couple,
were set at rest. The Grand Duke, coming for-
ward, said to Lord and Lady Eingwold, "Have I
your permission to welcome your daughter as one
who by marriage is to become my niece .''" — and on
receiving an affirmative response, the Tuscan Sove-
reign 'embraced Olivia Sackville, saying, " la ac-

116

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OS, THE MEMOIRS OP A MAN-SERVANT.

"1

companjiug my nephew to the altai% you will wed
one on whom it will be my delight as well as my
duty to shower dignities, honours, and riches even
greater than those which he already possesses."

Again the silver bell was agitated : the Grand
Duchess entered; and while her Eoyal Highness
■was welcoming and embracing Olivia as her future
niece, the Count of Livorno hastily approached
me.

" Come, my dear young friend," he said, fervently
pressing my hand : " come ! You and I have much
to talk over with each other."

Thus speaking, and having whispered a few
■words to Olivia to the effect that he should not be
long absent — having also shaken Lord and Lady
Eingwold by the hand — the Count of Livorno con-
ducted me into a small but elegantly furnished
cabinet, which was the place whence he had
emerged on the first sounding of the silver bell.

CHAPTER CI.

THE EXECUTION.

When the door had closed behind us, and .we
were alone together, the Count of Livorno em-
braced me with as much warmth as if I were his
brother; and was moved to tears, as he murmur-
ingly said, " For all the happiness of this day, how
much, how much, my dear friend, am I indebted
to you!"

I congratulated him with the most heartfelt joy
upon all that had occurred : and I could not help
mentioning the generous atonement which Captain
Eaymond had made, and which I felt sure must in
the eyes of the Count prove sufficient amends for
his past conduct. The Italian nobleman expressed
himself most magnanimously upon the same sub-
ject,— repeating ■what he had said in the adjoining
room, that under the suspicious circumstances of
the past Captain Eaymond was fully justified in
acting as he had done,

"It is most extraordinary," I observed, as I
mentally reviewed much of what had taken place
within the last few weeks, " that the history of the
Marquis of Cassano should have been on two occa-
sions almost obtrusively forced upon my attention :
but never did I entertain the remotest idea
that there was any connexion between that
nobleman and yourself, nor between that history
and the circumstances belonging to your career.
It happened that the narrator — an Italian gentle-
man whom I casually met — never mentioned that
the Marquis of Cassano had a younger brother :
but even if he had specified the fact, I do not for
a moment think that I should still have been any
the wiser in respect to your lordship's proceedings
— nor should I have suspected that under the name
of Angelo Volterra the Count de Livorno was con-
cealed."

"The tastes of my brother and myself," said
the Count, " were from an early period of our
lives quite distinct, although the bond of sincerest
love has ever linked our hearts. On arriving at
manhood, my brother displayed an inclination for
the bustle and excitement of public life— while I
was fond of the pursuits of literature, science, and
art. I particularly took a fancy to medicine and

surgery : the study thereof became at one time a
kind of mania with me ; and I pursued it with
avidity — though, as you may easily conceive, never
with the intention of practising it professionally.
It was under an incognito that I visited England,
to examine into your hospital-system : there I be-
came acquainted with your language — there also I
improved that medical knowledge which enabled
me to minister so successfully a short while back
to Lady Eingwold. When my brother was called
to the high post of Minister of the Interior, I was
dwelling in the seclusion of my own chateau upon
my estate in the neighbourhood of Leghorn — or Li-
vorno— from the name of which city my title is
derived. The intelligence of his arrest and expa-
triation came upon me like a thunder-clap : I
proceeded to Florence with the intention of throw-
ing myself at the feet of my uncle, the Grand Duke,
and imploring his mercy on behalf of my brother.
But the Duke — doubtless anticipating what my
object was, and being bitterly irate against the
Marquis of Cassano — would not see me. I was
overwhelmed with grief : I loved that brother of
mine with all the fervour to which the truest
fraternal affection can possibly reach : I was re-
solved not to let him languish in an Austrian
prison, if by any earthly means I could rescue him.
At first I entertained the wild idea of proceeding
to the place of his incarceration, and adopting
measures to effect his escape ; but I could not find
out to which of the many Austrian castles he had
been consigned : for all the proceedings in respect
to his expatriation and his imprisonment had been
conducted with as much secrecy as possible. Vainly
did I endeavour to glean the requisite information
from amongst some of the persons about the Court :
no one could or would give it to me. In the midst
of my distracting meditations, I recollected to have
heard, on a former temporary visit to Florence,
something relative to the purloined State docu-
ments and the pledge which the Grand Duke had
given with regard to the conferring of a boon on
the person who should restore them. I made
secret inquiries; and on this point I was more
successful. I learnt as a positive fact, that my
royal uncle had indeed more than once proclaimed
the vow, and that he had even very recently
reiterated it. Then my mind was made up how
to act ; and you know the rest. Indeed, you have
borne so considerable a part in helping me on to
this successful issue, that I must again express my
heartfelt gratitude in words before I proceed to
exemplify it by actions."

".My lord," I said, " I require nothing more
than this kindness with which you address me.
Eesides, can I forget that you have twice saved my
life "

" It was evidently decreed by heaven," inter-
rupted the Count of Livorno, " that we should
assist each other. And now, my young friend, I
wish to speak seriously to you respecting your own
circumstances. I have seen enough of you to be
convinced that you were not born for a menial
situation: you have been well educated — your
manners are those of a gentleman — and whenever
I have thought of you, I have often been as much
astonished to find you in your present position as
you must have been to discover me amongst the
banditti in the Apennines. I have no impertinent
curiosity — but I entertain a deep and affectionate

JOSEPH WIIiMOT'; OK, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SEEVANT.

117

interest in your welfare. I am confident there is
some mjsterv attaching itself uuto you; and
whatsoever you may choose to reveal, will be con-
fided to the ears of a true friend."

I proceeded to give the Count of Livorno a
rapid sketch of my history,— omitting all details
that were irrelevant, or too delicate to be touched
upon : but I made him acquainted with my love
for Annabel — the circumstances under which Sir
Matthew Heseltine had sent me abroad for two
years — how I was robbed by that same villain
Dorchester whom I had recently met in the Apen-
nine cave — and how, after being thus despoiled of
my little fortune, I had resolved to earn the bread
of an honest industry during the rest of the pro-
bationary period rather than apply for fresh funds
to the old Baronet. The Count listened with
varied feelings of interest, astonishment, and com-
miseration to these rapidly sketched outlines of
my eventful history : and he now understood
wherefore I risked so much and was so deeply
anxious to deliver Sir Matthew Heseltine and his
party a few weeks back from the hands of the
brigands. I had related to him also those inci-
dents which are connected with Lord and Lady
Eccleston; and this portion of my narrative was
not listened to by him with less interest than the
others. We discoursed for a long time on that as
well as on divers other mysteries which were evi-
dently connected with myself; but as we could do
nothing more than suggest vague and uncertain
conjectures, it is not necessary t* trouble the
reader with the details of our discourse.

" Now, my dear young friend," said the Count
of Livorno, "if you wish to prove that this friend-
ship is mutual, you must suffer yourself to be
guided by me in what I am about to propose.
You can no longer remain in a menial condition,
for which you were evidently never intended, and
above which your manners and your intellect raise
you so highly. From this moment you must cease
to serve Captain Eaymond ; and you will permit
mo to place at your disposal such a sum of money
as will enable you to pass the remainder of your
probationary period in the way which Sir Matthew
Heseltine originally contemplated."

Having thus spoken, the Count of Livorno
wrote something upon a slip of paper ; and
placing it in an envelope, he handed it to me, —
saying, " If you refuse this, Joseph, I shall think
that you do not consider me your friend."

"I accept it, my lord," I answered, pressing his
hand with grateful fervour — and likewise with joy
in my heart, " on the sole condition that if ever I
have the means of reimbursing this loan, you will
permit me to do so."

" Certainly : it is only as as a loan that I offer
it," responded the Count, thus delicately putting a
salve upon my feelings in respect to that which he
really intended as a gift. " And now, perhaps,"
he hastily went on to say, for the purpose of
turning the discourse into another channel, " you
will be anxious to learn whether any steps have
been taken with regard to the brigands whom we
last night, or rather this morning, left behind us
at the stronghold. You are well aware that for
particular reasons of a delicate character — I mean
in respect to those abstracted State documents —
my uncle the Grand Duke was always averse to
adopt strenuous measures with regard to the

bandit-horde. Now that motive has ceased ; and
detachments of troops have already been de-
spatched to penetrate into the Apennines — kill,
disperse, or capture the brigands, as the case
may be — and if they have already fled, destroy
their stronghold and their little hamlet of cabins.
They have received instructions, too, in respect to
the villain Dorchester : but I am apprehensive
that neither he nor any of the banditti will fall
into the hands of the troops — for as this is the
third time Marco Uberti has been captured, they
can scarcely suppose he will be set free again, even
though they should continue to believe that
the State documents, hitherto the talisman of his
safety, are still at his disposal. And enter,
tainiug the apprehension that his doom is sealed,
they are certain to disperse in all directions."

"And what of Marco Uberti himself?" I in-
quired.

" To-morrow," responded the Count of Livorno,
"he will be brought to trial, before the criminal
tribunal ; and there will be sufficient evidence
against him without the necessity of you or me, or
any one connected with us, standing forward to ac-
cuse him. Scarcely was it known a few hours
back that the terrible bandit chief was a prisoner
in the gaol of Florence, than a dozen citizens cama
forward to prefer their complaints against him,"

" Does he as yet know," I inquired, " that the
State documents are no longer available as a means
of bargaining for his safety ?"

'•' Yes," rejoined the Count : " I directed that
this intelligence should be communicated to him
by the governor of the gaol immediately after his
consignment there. But let us now return into
the adjacent room."

Thither we accordingly proceeded : the Grand
Duke and Duchess both alike spoke to mo with
the most friendly kindness — they were pleased
to compliment me on w hat they termed ray " chi-
valrous bearing " throughout my various adven-
tures iu the Apennines — and they cordially
thanked me for having been instrumental in the
recovery of the documents and the capture of
Marco Uberti. Meanwhile the Count of Livorno
had taken Captain Eaymond aside, and had ac-
quainted him with the fact that I was now in a
position to be no longer dependent upon the wages
of a menial. The Captain presently accosted me
—shook me by the hand — and congratulated me
on my change of condition. Olivia Sackville like-
wise found an opportunity, ere we quitted the
ducal presence, to express her congratulation —
coupled with the assurance that she should ever
regard me in the light of her truest and most
generous friend.

We now retired from the presence of the Grand
Duke and Duchess of Tuscany — the Count of Li-
vorno accompanying the Eingwold family in the
carriage to the hotel, where he was to dine with
them. Captain Eaymond and I departed together
on foot, — both of us alike feeling that the lovers
ought to bo left as much to their own happiness as
possible, with no other restraint than that of the
young lady's parents. Captain Eaymond encoun-
tered a friend in an adjacent street; and I accord-
ingly left him. When at a little distance I ex-
amined the contents of the envelope which the
Count of Livorno had placed in my hand ; and I
found myself to be the possessor of a sum which,

118

JOSEPH WILMOT; OK, THE MEMOIRS OF "A MA.TT-3EKVAWT.

reckoning by the equivalent of English money,
amounted to eight hundred pounds. It was now
the middle of January, 1842 ; and it was until the
loth of November of the same year that my pro-
bationary period extended — an interval of ten
months. I had therefore ample funds — thanks to
the noble generosity of the Count of Livorno— for
passing this period in the manner which Sir
Matthew Heseltine had originally sketched forth.
Deeply, deeply grateful was I to the Italian noble-
man for the kindness which had thus placed me in
a position of independence once more : I was that
day supremely happy. I had seen the successful
issue of a love-aflfair in which I had become more
and more interested from the moment it first came
to my knowledge — I found that I had been fully
justified in placing confidence in Olivia's lover
since I had begun to know him well — and I my-
self was rewarded for whatever succour I had ren-
dered him.

I proceeded to the banker on whom the cheque
was drawn — had the sum duly entered in my own
name — opened a small account for my present pur-
poses— and obtained a circular letter of credit
available on presentation at the banking firms of
all the principal cities and towns of Italy. I was
resolved upon this occasion that I would not suffer
myself to be again swindled by any such adven-
turer as the villain Dorchester : but I was now
rejoiced rather than otherwise that I had fallen a
prey to his duplicity in Paris upwards of a twelve-
month back, inasmuch as I had thus gleaned expe-
rience and caution for the future. Before return-
ing to the hotel, I made sundry purchases of
articles which were indispensable for that position
of a gentleman to which I had once more risen ;
and then I deliberated what course I should now
adopt. I did not choose to remain as a gentleman
at an hotel where I had previously been regarded
as a menial : neither did I intend to continue
much longer in Florence. I knew that the Count
of Livorno's good feeling, as well as that of Olivia
Sackville— shortly no doubt to become his wile —
would prompt them to regard and treat me as an
equal : hut I appreciated all the inconvenience
that would arise from such a demonstration to-
wards one who had recently figured as a gentle-
man's dependent. I therefore determined, as the
result of these reflections, to remove at once to
another hotel, and only to remain in Florence
until I saw the termination of JMarco Uberti's trial,
and learnt the issue of the military expedition
into the Apennines. Fortunately, on regain-
ing the hotel where I had hitherto been living,
I did not happen to encouuter the garrulous valet
attached to Lord Ringwold ; and thus I was saved
the necessity of much tedious explanations. But
I did meet Bessy, who had learnt everything which
had taken place at the ducal palace j and who with
heartfelt sincerity congratulated me on my own
change of position. She informed me that Captain
Raymond, on returning to the hotel, had found a
letter waiting for him, which necessitated his im-
mediate departure from Florence on his way back
to England— and I learnt that he had already set
ofi". 1 was glad to hear this, although I thought
the letter was a mere pretext to enable him to
hurry away after the turn that matters had taken
in respect to his love-affair : but I considered his
conduct to be fraught with much delicacy and pro-

priety under the circumstances. In less than aa
hour I was installed in comfortable apartments
at an hotel quite at the opposite extretnity of
Florence.

On the following day the trial of ]Marco Uberti
took place. I was present, for two reasons:
in the first place, because I was anxious to see
how the forms of justice were conducted in the
Tuscan tribunals — and in the second place, because
I wished to observe how Marco Uberti deported
himself. The court was crowded to excess : mul-
titudes were gathered outside : the excitement was
immense. I however obtained a good seat, and
stayed 'hroughout the proceedings, whicli lasted
from ten in the morning until six in the evening.
Witness after witness appeared against him, each
detailing a history of outrage and plunder sustained
at the hands of the prisoner and his bandit-horde.
As for the culprit himself, his demeanour was
that of a ferocious suUenness throughout : but
sometimes his countenance relaxed into a grimly
fierce smile at any particular salient point of the
testimony adduced against him. He knew that
the talisman of his safety was gone — he knew that
his doom was sealed ; and as he had lived reck-
lessly, so had he evidently made up his mind to
die with a brutal indifference as to his fate. At
length a little before six o'clock in the evening, sen-
tence of death was pronounced upon him ; and wheu
the presiding judge had finished a brief but im-
pressive address, in which his doom was conveyed,
Marco Uberti looked round him with an air of
fierce defiance. He was conducted back to the
gaol amidst the execrations of the assembled popu-
lace.

Three or four days afterwards some of the troops
who had been despatched into the Apennines, re-
turned with three prisoners — all the remainder
of the banditti having contrived to escape : indeed
these three prisoners were not captured at the
stronghold, but were caught lurking amidst the
fastnesses of the mountains. One of them was
Philippo. As for Mr. Dorchester, his cave had
been found deserted; and doubtless the villain had
fled thence on the first receipt of the intelligence of
Marco Uberti's capture. The tower and the ad-
jacent huts had been razed to the grouni by the
Tuscan troops — so that the dispersed gang might
not after a time reconstitute its formidable head-
quarters there.

Another trial now took place : but I did not
attend it — I had sufficient of the former one. The
result was the same as in Marco Uberti's case :
namely, the condemnation of the accused to death.
It soon became known that the execution of the
four culprits was to take place in the great square
on the fifth day after the second trial, — an appeal
which the prisoners had made to some superior
court having been rejected by the judges there
after a deliberation of only a very few minutes, I
at first hesitated whether I should become a spec-
tator of the horrible scene : but I at length de-
termined that I could witness it. It was not that
I experienced what may be termed a mere morbid
curiosity — much less was I desirous to gloat over
the supreme fate of these wretches, even though
they had twice meditated my own death : but the
same feeling which had led me to attend at Marco
Uberti's trial, decided me in being present at the
execution of himself and his three followers. Ou

JOSEPH WILMOT; OR, THF MEMOIBS OF A MAK-SERVANT.

119

the morning fixed for the dreadful ceremony, a
vast crowd was assembled in the great square ;
and the numbers of congregated spectators flooded
likewise all the diverging streets up to the very
remotest point whence a view of the scaffold could
be obtained. All the -windows and balconies of
the dwellings which commanded the same pro-
spect, were thronged with beholders, male and
female : but I must candidly confess that there
were none of those disgraceful scenes of drunken-
ness, quarrelling, and practical joking which,
according to the newspapers, invariably characterize
the ceremony of public executions in my own
native country. The assembled multitude was the
most orderly and the best-behaved I had ever seen:
it appeared as if the gathered populace felt all the
force of the moral example thus presented to their
view. But I would not have it from this observa-
tion inferred that I am an advocate for death
punishments:— quite the reverse. It is my solemn
belief that man impiously usurps the authority of
the Almighty when he assumes a control over the
life of a fellow. creature. Society has no doubt a
right to protect itself against evil-doers and those
who would disturb its equilibrium or outrage its
laws : but its means of repression as well as of
punishment should not extend beyond incarcerat-
ing the offender in heinous cases for the rest of
bis life, and thus depriving him of the power of
offending again. I believe also that no degree of
punishment on the one hand for extreme crime,
should exceed the power of man on the other hand
to recompense the highest degree of virtue. From
this premise I infer that as society cannot extend
the life of any individual as a reward for the good
he may do, neither ought society to abridge the
life of an individual as a chastisement for the evil
that he may perform. Besides, although, indi-
viduals may be vindictive, yet society as a whole
cannot possibly be imbued with a spirit of ven-
geance : it does not punish, therefore, to avenge
itself— but to protect itself for the future ; and
this punishment should have a twofold object : —
first, to prevent the offender from repeating his
offence — and secondly, by the force of example, to
deter others from outraging its laws. Incarcera-
tion for life would answer both these ends much
better than capital punishment. And then, too,
society ought to keep in mind the necessity of re-
forming the offender, and enabling him by peni-
tence to win heaven's pardon for that soul which
he has to be saved. If society slay the offender at
a blow, both these objects are lost ; and society
has no right to destroy an individual mortally
upon earth and eternally in the other world.

The reader will pardon this digression, inas-
much as I feel strongly upon the subject which has
betrayed me into it,— and likewise because I do
not think that I can be taxed with a very frequent
digression in the course of my autobiography. I
will now pursue the thread of my narrative. The
great square and the diverging streets were, as I
have already stated, thronged with an orderly and
well-conducted multitude. I managed to work
my way to the front of one of the ranges of build-
ings overlooking the square ; and there, for some
small fee, 1 obtained admission into an upper-room
of a coffeehouse. From the window there I had a
full view of the entire scene : and what a sea of
human heads it was that stretched out before me !

In the very centre of the square stood a high plat-
form, against which a flight of steps was erected ;
and on this platform there were four chairs. While
• I was looking from the window a few minutes
! after having placed myself there, I perceived a
sensation amongst the crowd at a point where the
! nearest street joined the square ; and then my
. ears caught the sounds of a low solemn chaunt,
' commingled with the rumbling of wheels and the
j heavy tramp of horses proceeding at a walking
' pace. The other spectators in that room uttered
ejaculations from which I by this time knew suffi-
cient of Italian to comprehend that the fatal pro-
, cession was advancing.

In a few minutes it entered upon the great
j square, — two lines of troops which convoyed it,
making the people fall back on either side, so that
its progress might not be impeded. It soon came
within the scope of my view ; and now I beheld
Marco Uberti, Philippe, and the two other bandit-
j prisoners seated in a large rumbling cart with two
high wheels, and in which they were jolted over
the stones, though the pair of horses which drew
the vehicle were proceeding at a very slow pace-
The four prisoners were heavily ironed ; and they
were attended by as many priests, whose lugu-
briously solemn chaunt it was that had met my
ears. For a few minutes the vehicle was so near
the front of the coffee-house, that I had no diffi-
culty in distinguishing the countenances of the
prisoners. That of Marco Uberti wore the same
air of gloomy ferocious sullenness which had in-
vested it when the Count of Livorno and myself
brought him as a captive into Florence : but ever
and anon his eyes glared savagely around upon the
multitude, and then settled for a moment with
mocking scorn upon his own attendant priest ere
they relapsed again into moody listlessness. It was
different with Philippo : he was greatly altered,
I and appeared terrified as well as profoundly de-
I jected. The other two brigands seemed to study
I as much as possible the air of their chief; and as
I they had faithfully obeyed him in life, so now
I they seemed determined to imitate him at the
point of death.

The equipage passed slowly through the crowd
towards the platform in the centre of the square,
— the priests continuing their solemn chaunt —
though every now and then one of them in his
turn bent down to whisper a few words, no doubt
of earnest exhortation, to the bandit unto whom he
specially ministered in his ghostly capacity : and I
must not forget to mention that throughout the
scene a respectful silence, religious and awe-felt,
prevailed on the part of the multitude. There
were no yells nor execrations— no insulting words
thrown at the captives — no looks of gloating
triumph bent upon them : it appeared as if the
populace thought they were suflBciently punished
by the decrees of doom which the law had pro-
nounced against them.

The platform in the centre of the square was
reached; and there the heavy cart halted, — the
soldiers forming a circle about the fatal spot. The
four captives were conducted up to the platform
by the police-agents who specially had them in
custody, and who had hitherto walked by the side
of the vehicle. The doomed wretches were com-
pelled to seat themselves in the chairs which stood
upon the platform, and which, as I subsequently

120

JODBl'H WltMOT; OH, Tan 5rEM:0rF.5 OF A MAV-SEKTAXT.

learnt, were tightly screwed down to the planks, his lordship occupied beneath the root" of the ducal
In front of each prisoner stood the attendant dweliinsr. He gave nae the warmest reception —
priest,— each stretching out a small crucifix to- but gently reproached me for liaving removed to
wards the lips invited to kiss the sacred catholic another hotel without having made him acquainted
emblem. The police-officials quickly and deftly with my new place of abode, and also for not
bound the criminals to their chairs in such a way having been to visit him during the fortnight
that they were held almost completely motionless which had by this time elapsed since the day of
therein : for the cords passed round their forms explanations at the palace,
and were fastened to the backs of those seats. " I can assure your lordship," I answered, '-it

Then all of a sudden — as if in a moment evoked, was from no other motives than the most delicate
by some rapidly uttered incantation, from the very ones : T was fearful of intruding— I knew likewise

bowels of the earth beneath — another figure ap- ; that your time must be very much occupied "

peared upon that platform. The effect of this | " K'ever too much occupied," interrupted the
sudden apparition was appallingly startling: but j Count, "to receive a valued and esteemed friend
I subsequently learnt that the man had been such as you are. But wherefore do you purpose
hitherto concealed beneath the platform itself, the | to leave Florence. The bridal is to be celebrated
sides of which were all boarded round, thus ren- , shortly ; and both Olivia and myself are deter-
derinc^ it a great wooden box. That man had a mined that you shall be present. Ifo excuses, my
mask upon his countenance— and he wielded an ; dear friend 1 I can perfectly understand the
^-normous sword. There was no necessity to in- ' delicacy of your feelings: but in the first place,
quire who he was : his sinister appearance pro- my dear Joseph, I have no pride overruling what
claimed the terrible fact— he was the public execu- ,' is due in friendship— and in the second place it
tioner. ' is not because you have been in a menial position

The remainder of the fearful ceremony followed for which by education and manners you were
quick upon that man's appearance through the never intended, that you should bashfully keep
iittle trap-door in the centre of the platform. The aloof from the sphere in which you may now
priests stood back— but one and all raised their move, and which is properly your own. Eest
crucifixes high up with an air of solemn adjura- j assured too that ^liss Sackville thinks precisely as
tion ; while the sudden rolling of the military | I do upon this point."

drums drowned from those who were at a distance | "I know that your lordship is all generosity,"
whatsoever words these holy men uttered. Then | I exclaimed, '• and Miss Sackville likewise : but
there was a sudden glancing effect as if a gleam of , there are certain prejudices in other quarters-
lightning had flashed over the platform : it was the ! and against these I will not offend. It would be
rapid sweep of the headsman's sword — and Marco i impossible for Lord and Lady Eingwold to welcome
f berti's head rolled upon the scaffold. Another • with sincere cordiality as an equal one whom they
sweep of that terrible glancing weapon — another — | had seen in a menial capacity. You perceive
and another ; and they were naught but headless | therefore, my lord, that I should be exposing my-
trunks which sate in those chairs. ' self to a slight which I am sure that you would not

A profound sensation of horror was evinced by 1 have me encounter. Indeed my mind is made up
the crowd — while I experienced so sickening a j — and I beseech you not to endeavour to divert
sensation that I felt as if I were about to faint. ' me from my purpose. I sincerely wish you both
"With an incredible rapidity the police-officials cut | all possible happiness : but I have come to bid your
or loosened the cords— I could not pre.nsely see , lordship farewell — for I leave Florence this after-
which ; for there was a dimness over my vision : noon."

and the remains of the four prisonere were tossed The Count of Livorno was evidently saddened
down the little trap-door,— to be placed, as I i by this resolve on my part : he endeavoured to
afterwards learnt, in the coffins that were in readi- i dissuade me from it — but I continued firm — and
ness beneath the platform to receive them. I be- j he at length agreed to suffer me to have my own
took myself away from the scene as quickly as I ! way.

could, and hurried back to the hotel where I was | '•' Before you leave me, however," said the Count,
staying, — angry with myself that I bad become \ " I have two pleasing duties to perform. The first

a spectator of the hideous ceremony at all.

CHAPTER CII.

DEPAETUBE PEOH ^LOKE^'CE.

On tte following day I despatched a note to the

is to present you with a slight token of the Grand
Duke's gratitude for the share which you had in
restoring to his Eoyal Highness the State docu-
ments, and also in capturing Marco Uberti."

Thus speaking, the Count of Livorno banded
me a small casket in which there was a most beau-
tiful watch set round with diamonds, and two
rings of corresponding splendour and value. The
geras were all of the first water : and the cost of

Count of Livorno, to" t!:e effect that as I intended | the gift could not Lave been less than several hun
to leave Florence I wisiicd for an opportunity to ! dred pounds. I expressed my warmest gratitude
pay my parting respects to his lordship ; and I ' for this generous mark of the ducal approbation :
failed not in the same letter to express my grate- 1 but the Count of Livorno hastened to observe,
ful thanks for the sum of money which he had so " And now for the second duty which I have to
liberally placed at my disposal. The messenger , perform. Follow me."

brought back a reply written in the kindest terms, j I obeyed: and he conducted me along a superb

and appointing the hour of noon for the Count to corridor, into a magnificently furnished apartment,

receive meat the palace. Thither I repaired— and ; — where a personage plainly dressed, and who ap-

\ was conducted to the suite of apartments which peared to be an invalid, was seated. He was

JOSEPH WILMOT; OK, THE MEMOIRS OP A MAW-SEUTANI

121

some thirteen or fourteen years older than the
Count of Livorno— and therefore about forty. His
countenance was pale, almost to haggardness : its
look was melancholy and pensive, but indicative of
a rare intelligence. He was by no means hand-
some— his form too was somewhat ungainly ; yet
there was naught coarse nor vulgar in his appear-
ance— far from it. He was however a very diiferent
kind of being, so far as his exterior went, from the
Count of Livorno : yet it was none other than the
Marquis of Cassano to whom I was thus presented,
—his younger brother informing me in a few
hurried words that he had only arrived in Florence
the preceding evening, but that everything was
now forgiven between the ex-Minister and the
Grand Duke.

The Marquis of Cassano gave me his hand ; and

addressing me in French, warmly proclaimed his

acknowledgments for the share I had borne in

those proceedings which had resulted in his libera-

68.

tion from an Austrian castle, and his restoration
to his native land. His voice was mild and pleas-
ing : the interview lasted about half-an-hour ; and
when the Count of Livorno proposed to reconduct
me from the apartment, the Marquis again pressed
my hand cordially, assuring me of his everlasting
friendship.

'•' And now," said the Count, when we were once
more alone together in his own room, " is there
anything I can do for you ? Whither do you pur-
pose to travel r"

" It is my intention to visit Rome," I answered j
" and thence I shall proceed to Naples."

" You will at least permit me," said the Count,
" to give you letters of introduction which may be
serviceable to you ; and at all events, my dear
friend, when you reach those cities where none of
your antecedents will be known, you must assume
that position to which I feel convinced you wera
born."

JOSEPH TVILMOT ; OH, THE MEilOrKS O? A MiX-SETiTAXT.

He sate down to his desk — penned a couple of
letters — and placed them in my hand.

'•■ I hope, mj dear AYilinot," he at the same time
said, '• that when vou have completed your tour in
the centre and south of Italy, you will revisit
riorence, so that I may be enabled to show you
those attentions and hospitalities which you are at
present determined I shall not have anopporcunity
of displaying."

I promised to avail myself of his lordship's
kindness J and fervently he wrung my hand when
the partinjT moment came. As I was retracing
my way to the hotel, I encountered Bessy, — who
had come out to make some purchase for her young
mistress. She was delighted to see me, although
she thought it necessary to assume a demeanour
of respectfulness instead of that species of friendly
familiarity which had been wont to subsist between
us at the time when our positions were on an
equality. I however soon placed her at her ease,
by assuring her that as I had no false pride, I was
pained ratlier than flattered by any alteration of
bearing which might be shown towards mo by
those with whom I had been wont to associate in
a humbler sphere; — and then I informed her that
I was about to quit Florence la the course of an
hour.

" But you will come and bid farewell to Miss
Sackville ?" exclaimed Bessy : " for she would
never forgive you if you were to hurry off without
doing so. I have frequently assured you that she
possesses a most grateful heart— and no one is
more rejoiced than she at this well-deserved
prosperity which has overtaken you."

" But Lord and Lady Eingwold," I said, — "are
they at the hotel at this moment ? or do they hap-
pen to be out i"

'•' Truth compels me to admit that they are at
home in their own apartments," responded Bessy,
at once comprehending the motive of my ques-
tions. " But what matters that P I can easily
call Miss Sackville out on some pretence ?"

" 'So," I interrupted her : '•' I would rather not
intrude where I might be unwelcome. You know
that I do not allude to Miss Sackville : but her
father and mother have their aristocratic ' pre-
judices — those prejudices which are as hereditary
with our English patricians as their titles them-
selves ; and 1 do not choose to throw myself in
the way of, being treated with a slighting coldness.
Will you inform Miss Sackville that you have met
me, and that you heard me express the sincerest
wishes for her happiness ? That these wishes will
be fulfilled, I have not the remotest doubt : for he
who is to become her husband, is one of the
noblest-minded of men. There is everything
magnanimous in his disposition — everything esti-
mable in his character. I have seen him under
many varied and trying circumstances ; and I can
therefore speak thus confidently."

I shook Bessy by the hand ; and we parted. On
returning to my hotel, I at once ordered a post-
chaise : and in less than an hour was beyond the
precincts of Florence, on the road towards Home.
Header, there was indescribable joy in my heart !
Circumstances had replaced m& in that position
which Sir Matthew Heseltine had intended me to
occupy : and unfeignedly did I rejoice at having
abstained from enumerating my misfortunes to the
old Baronet at the time when 1 was so cruelly

plundered by the villain Dorchester in Paris. I
felt assured that when the period of probation
should have passed, and all my adventures were
recited to Sir Matthew Heseltine, he would see
more to praise than to blame in the whole tenour
of my conduct ; and I flattered myself that I
should not vainly aspire to the crowning reward.

It was about nine o'clock in the evening when I
reached the city of Arezzo— distant about forty
miles from Florence; and there I passed the night.
My journey was resumed on t'ae following day ;
and I determined to perform eighty miles, which
would bring me to the town of Magliano, whence
an easy journey on the ensuing day would see
my destination reached. As I have observed on a
former occasion, it is not my object to devote un-
necessary space to descriptions of scenery, habits,
manners, or customs : I shall therefore pursue the
thread of my narrative without any digression of
this kind. Travelling post in Italy is but a sorry
affair; and if eight miles an hour be accomplished
it is considered excellent work. Thus, on setting
out for this second day's journey (from Arezzo to
Magliano) I had to make up my mind to tea
hours' confinement inside a vehicle which did not
possess the most elastic springs in the world, and
therefore was not one well calculated to ensure the
comfort of its occupant.

The dusk had closed in some time, and I was
still at a considerable distance from Magliano — so
that I was almost inclined to abbreviate this day'i
journey at the most convenient place and rest
there until the morrow. While deliberating upon
this course, I thrust my head forth from the
window in order to ascertain if there were any
lights visible ahead : for by the distance we had
come since the last posting-house where the horses
were changed, I thought the nest could not be
very far. And I did see lights glimmering feebly
like far-off stars. In a few minutes I looked forth
again : the lights were now plainer ; but as the
chaise drew nearer towards them, I was com-
pelled to come to the conclusion that so far from
belonging to the outskirt of a town, they wera
shining from the windows of some isolated dwell-
ing. Zv'earer st^l the equipage appro ched, and
now I could see sufiicient to comprehend that it
was a habitation of some size, and appeared to
have a high wall enclosing spacious grounds .- but
the gloom of the evening was altogether too deep
to enable me to observe the architectural features
of the building. I however concluded that it was
the mansion of some wealthy individual.

That part of the edifice which was nearest to the
road was scarcely » hundred yards off; and as the
chaise was passing along, I kept my eyes fixed in
a sort of listless curiosity upon the place. All of
a sudden a figure emerged from amidst t'ae gloom :
it was running rapidly — and by the direction
whence it come, appeared to have issued from that
building which the equipage was passing at the
time. Almost at the same moment that I thus
caught sight of the figure, it cried out, in a plain-
tively anguished female tone, to the postilion to
stop. He at once reined in his horses at that en-
treaty, which was uttered in the Italian language ;
and then the female, coming up to the window
where I was looking forth, addressed a few words
to me in that same earnestly beseeching voice : but
as she still spoke in Italian and with the rapidity

JOSEPH WILMOT; OE, THE MEMOIRS OP A MAN-SERVANT.

123

of a strong excitement, I could> not understand
her. This much I intimated iu French — hoping
that she might possibly comprehend the tongue I
thus used. Nor was I disappointed.

" Oh, sir, whoever you may be," she immediately
said, with the agitated accents of an almost wild
entreaty, " I beseech you to have compassion upon
me and take me hence !"

I was confounded by the request, and knew not
how to answer it. It was so dark, and the female's
countenance was so shrouded by a veil which she
had thrown across rather than altogether over her
head, that I could not catch the faintest glimpse of
her features : yet by her voice I judged her to be
quite young. But to take up an unknown female
iu that strange manner — a female who might be
fleeing from her friends, escaping from a lunatic
asylum, or possibly from the grasp of justice itself
— struck me as being no light matter : on the con-
trary, it seemed a somewhat serious one.

" In the name of heaven, I conjure you not to
refuse me !" she hastened to say, with a wilder an-
guish of entreaty than before. " Oh, if you have
a sister or any one who is very dear to you, and
could wish that such a one might receive succour

if escaping from relentless persecutors "

" What do you require me to do ? who are you ?
whence have you escaped ? who are your perse-
cutors ?" — such was the torrent of questions that
gushed forth from my lips in the excited be-
wilderment into which this strange incident threw
me.

" Oh, save me ! save me !" murmured the
stranger : and she clung to the ledge of the chaise-
door as if about to faint.

I could hesitate no longer ; and I quickly bade
her take encouragement, for that I would give her a
seat in the vehicle. She burst into tears — evidently
tears of wild delight as she tremulously gave utter-
ance to a few words of enthusiastic thanks ; and in
another moment she was seated by my side in the
chaise. I felt that she was shivering with the cold,
or else with the agitation of her feelings ; and I
put up the windows.

" Whither are you going ?" she asked me in a
quick excited manner.

" My destination for this evening," I replied,
" was originally Magliano : but I have just been
thinking that I should halt at the next town or

village "

" No, no !" she interjected with an almost fren-
zied vehemence : " you must press on to Magliano

Oh, I beseech and implore that you will do

so!"

" You are afraid of being pursued and captured ?"
I said inquiringly.

" Yes, yes !" was the quick feverish rejoinder.
"For heaven's sake proihise that you will at least
press on to Magliano— even if you cannot go farther
stiU ?"

"My ultimate destination is Eome," I ob-
served.

She uttered a cry of joy, exclaiming, " And I
^Iso must proceed to Eome ! Oh, you will take
me thither— you will take me thither with you —
promise me that you will ?"

Now that I was becoming composed and col-
lected again, I di 1 not half like the present adven-
ture. Still however there appeared to be a certain
artlessness and ingenuousness in the way in which

my companion put these strange entreaties, which
disarmed me of that part of my suspicions which
in the first instance had suijgested the possibility
that I should be aiding an offender to escape from
the grasp of justice.

" If you will tell me," I said, " whence you have
escaped and under what circumstances, I shall be
enabled to judge to what extent I may assist
you."

"I have escaped from bitter, bitter persecutors !"
she replied in impassioned accents, which seemed
to implore my confidence; "and I have now no
friend but you — i/ou whom God himself has sent to
succour me ! Oh, pray do not question me ! and
pray do not abandon me !"

There was a gushing pathos in the silver tones
of her voice which again moved me deeply ; and I
thought to myself that at all events I must suffer
her to get somewhat composed before I pressed
her for explanations — and that the only way to
enable her to tranquilliso herself was to give
an affirmative answer as far as I dared to her en-
treaties. During the few moments that I was thus
reflecting, I heard her literally gasping in the agony
of suspense : but as for seeing her, tJiat was out of
the question, — the interior of the vehicle being in-
volved in total obscurity.

" Fear nothing," I said. " If you indeed re-
quire the succour of a friend "

"I do! — heaven knows that I do!" she ex-
claimed, in a tone of such earnest sincerity that I
felt more assured than ever she was really the
victim of some persecution and not of any fault on
her own part.

" It shall be as you wish," I answered. " I will

at least take you to Magliano — perhaps "

I was about to pledge myself to continue the
journey on to Eome without stopping: but several
considerations flashing to my mind iu an instant,
made me leave the rest of the sentence unsaid.
The explanations I expected to receive when she
became more composed, might be unsatisfactory :
and then too, I was struck with the indiscretion
bordering perhaps on indelicacy, of travelling at
night-time with a female who was evidently young,
and who might possibly be good-looking, but who
at all events was a total stranger to me. She was
not however to be put off by my half-uttered sen-
tences: the sense of recent persecution, or what-
ever might be the motive of her flight — together
with the cruel apprehension of being recaptured—
and perhaps other feelings which I could not pos-
sibly fathom — rendered her keenly and feverishly
alive to every syllable that fell from my lips. She
seemed indeed as if her position would be alto-
gether desperate unless I took the fullest amount
of compassion upon her and yielded to whatsoever
intercessions she might put to me.

" Perhaps ? perhaps ?" she eagerly exclaimed,
thus echoing the word with which I had broken
off.

" Perhaps," I answered, modifying the intention
I previously meant to express — "perhaps I will
take you to Rome to-morrow, when you have con-
vinced me that by succouring yourself I shall bo
doing no wrong towards others who may have a
claim upon your duty and your obedience."

" No one has claims upon either there — at
that place from whence I have fled!" was my com-
panion's quick response. " Oh I see that you mis-

124

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT.

trust me !" she cried : and I could fool by the
movement of her form that she was wrincjing her
hands in despair. '•' Good heavens ! to think that
one so young as I should have seen so much
misery !— that one who never by thought or deed
injured a fellow-creature, should have been so
cruelly persecuted! And yet," she exclaimed,
with another rapid transition irom the bitter feel-
ings of despair to an exultant joy, " you have
promised to take me to Magliano— and I may yet
be safe ! Oh, yes— I will, i will ensure my safety
— for I will walk throughout the entire night "

« jfo— you shall not do that !" I answered,
deeply affected : for I thought at the moment that
if Annabel, for instance, had ever found the neces-
skv of escaping from persecution at the hands of
such a wretch as Lanover, how magnanimous
would it have been in any one to succour her, and
how cruel to insist upon formal and methodical
explanations before consenting to render such
assistance! "You shall not go forth as a wan-
derer— I will place confidence in you— I will trust
to your good feeling not to deceive me, nor wil-
fully to lead me into embarrassment or peril by
affording you all the assistance your require."

lly companion could only give utterance to
broken words in testimony of her gratitude, which
was evidently most heartfelt : then she threw her-
self back in the corner of the chaise, and gave free
vent to her emotions. I could hear that she was
weeping : but being utterly unacquainted with the
nature of her griefs, as well as with the reason why
she should experience joy at her escape, I was
unable to offer consolation, or do more than I had
already done to soothe the agitation of her mind.

In a few minutes the equipage entered a small
towTi, and drew up at the post-house. I was
about to descend in order to put a hurried ques-
tion to the postilion — to ascertain, if I could, what
mansion or place it was in the neighbourhood of
which I had fallen in with my unknown com-
panion, and whence I conjectured that she had
escaped. But at the first movement that I made
to put down the window, she caught me by the
arm, exclaiming, " For heaven's sake leave me
not !— leave me not, I beseech you !"

There was such a wild terror mingled with such
a deep earnest entreaty in her accents, that it
would have been cruel to refuse acquiescence with
her eaorer prayer ; and moreover she was evidently
reposing in me that supreme confidence which I
could not feel it in my heart to shock with any
rude rebuff. Her mind too was in such a state
that I feared lest the least degree of an increased
excitement should unhinge it altogether. It was
impossible to avoid compassionating her deeply ;
and I therefore yielded to her entreaty by remain-
ing in the vehicle. The fresh relay was har-
nessed— a new postilion came to the window to
receive my instructions — I simply spoke the word
" Magliano " — he mounted his horse — and on we
went.

My companion continued silent for a long time ;
and I began to think it strange that she did not
strive to compose her feelings sufficiently to vouch-
safe some few words of explanation. I was cast-
in tr about in my mind how to renew the discourse
without appearing to be ungenerously availing
myself of my position towards her for the purpose
of extorting that which she did not seem inclined

voluntarily to give — when she abruptly broke the
silence by exclaiming, " How admirable is your
conduct ! how nobly are you behaving ! Tell mo
what is your name, and to what country you be-
long— that I may know how to speak of you in
my prayers, and that I may evermore think well
of a nation whereof you are so estimable a spe-
cimen."

I answered her questions ; and gently added,
"May I not expect the same degree of confidence
from you ?"

" I cannot reply," she responded in a low voice :
and I felt that a shudder swept through her form
as she sate by my side. " You think all this
strange — you must think so — but there are reasons

Oh ! for heaven's sake do not for an instant

imagine that I have disgraced my name and there-
fore am ashamed to breathe it ! It is as unsullied
as when I inherited it on the day of my birth !"

These last words were spoken proudly, and car-
ried with them the conviction of their own sin-
cerity : or at least such was the impression they
made upon my mind.

" If there were a living being," she almost im-
mediately resumed, " to whose ear I could at this
moment reveal all the circumstaucos which enmesh
me, you are that person : for unto you do I owe a
debt of gratitude that I can never pay. But for
the present there is a seal upon my lips : it rests
heavily and almost awfully there — it cannot be
lifted until these circumstances to which I have
alluded shall change — if they ever do !"

These few last words, uttered after a brief pause,
were spoken with a solemn mournfuluess j and then
there was another interval of silence.

" You are too generous," presently resumed my
companion, " to press me for explauAtions which I
cannot give; and I therefore throw myself entirely
upon your magnanimity. May the Holy Virgin
grant that the day shall come when my lips will

be unsealed Ob, what happiness if my prayer

should be vouchsafed ! You said ere now that
you were going to Rome — and I judge from a few
words which you let drop, that you are travelling
for your pleasure, and that therefore you are fully
master of your time ? "Would you — Oh ! would
you take me straight on to Home, instead of
stopping for the night at Magliano, or any other
intermediate place ?"

" And when you get to Home," I inquired,
" whither shall you go ? Have you a home to re-
ceive you ?"

" Ask me no questions — at least not now !"
abruptly exclaimed my companion in a paroxysm
1 of feverish excitement. "Eemcmber that those
i actions are most generous which are done in a blind
! confidence : and this much generosity I implore
I at your hands. Do I seek in vain ? No, no —
I feel that my prayer is granted ! Myriads,
I myriads of thanks!"

And then I felt my hand suddenly seized, and
pressed between two small ones : but only for an
instant was it retained in that clasp : there was
the bashfullest delicacy even in the midst of that
enthusiastic expression of the stranger's warmest
gratitude. "What could I do ? what could I
say ? Refuse to take her at once on to Rome ?
K'o— it was impossible. And then, too, methought
that the sooner I parted from my companion,
and thus extricated myself from a position more

JOSEPH WILMOTj OB, THB MEMOIES OF A MAN-SERVANT.

125

or less equivocal, the better. It was prefer-
able to sit in a carriage with hev throughout
the rest of the night, than to halt at an hotel with
d female companion of whom I could give no
account, and whom I did not even know how to ad-
dress by name. My situation was an awkward one;
and as the journey was now continued in silence,
I could not help thinking that no sooner was I
fairly out of one adventuro than I was being
dragged into the midst of another.

I novT fancied that my unknown companion was
asleep, as I judged from her slow and regular
breathing. Perhaps she was exhausted mentally,
if not bodily ; and her highly wrought feelings,
being relieved by a sense of safety, had experienced
a reaction which thus deepened into slumber?
Or perhaps she was only feigning to be asleep, in
order to avoid further discourse ? I knew not
which it might be: but still I was inclined to
the belief that she really slept— for there was an
undefinable expression of artless sincerity flowing
through her manner and her language, as well as
in the silver tones of her voice, which seemed to
forbid the idea that she would dissemble in any
way.

Hours passed on in silence : the town of Mag-
liano had been traversed and left far behind ; the
feeble light of the street-lamps there glimmering
through the windows of the chaise, had merely
shown me a form enveloped in some dark cloak or
scarf, and with a veil over the countenance, — so
that I was still without the ability to form the
slightest conjecture as to the personal appearance
of my companion. During these hours which thus
elapsed, and which carried us deep into the night,
she remained motionless, — continuing to breathe
regularly as if she slept profoundly : but I myself
continued broad awake the whole time, for the ad-
venture was one which perplexed me to a degree
that would not suffer me to obtain an instant's
repose. At several of the posting-houses there was
a delay in obtaining horses at those late hours ; but
while the chaise had to halt, my companion still
remained motionless as if bound fast in the arms
of slumber ; and I was enabled to descend on two
or three occasions to stretch my legs without being
held back by her. The suspicion stole into my
mind that when she had so passionately besought
me to remain with her the first time the equipage
stopped after she had become my companion, it
■was really to prevent me from putting any ques-
tions to the postilion in respect to that building
which we had passed, and in the immediate vicinage
of which I had first encountered her.

At length, as it got very late, I bethought me
that she might need refreshments ; and I re-
proached myself with neglect in not having ques-
tioned her on the subject before. But the truth is
that as I myself was too much excited and agi-
tated by the whole adventure to experience any
appetite, it had failed to occur to me that it might
be otherwise with my compr.nion. Therefore at
one of the villages where we halted to change
horses, I addressed her in a gentle voice, — asking
if she required refreshment. She started slightly,
as if actually awakened from sleep ; and replied in
the negative, — at the same time expressing her
thanks for my consideration. Our journey was
pursued ; and she asked me how far I thought we
were from £ome ? — and I replied that a couple of

hours more would according to my estimation bring
us thither. She said not another word, but shifted
her position somewhat, as if cramped by sitting so
long a time in the vehicle — or as if composing her-
self to sleep again. I shifted my own quarters to
the opposite seat, and asked her if she would like
to have some fresh air, as we had been travelling
all along with the windows up. She responded iu
the affirmative ; and I lowered one of the windows.
In a few minutes she began to breathe in a way
which appeared to announce a relapse into slum-
ber : and as it was somewhat troubled and uneasy,
and as low sobs and moans from time to time es-
caped her lips, I became convinced that she did
really sleep now : while for the same reason I was
inclined to believe that she had only been dis-
sembling before. Slumber gradually stole over me
likewise ; and as after a while I slowly opened my
eyes again, . the dawn of morning was glimmering
into the vehicle.

For the first few moments I thought that all
which had happened was a dream : but slowly I
became aware that I was not alone inside that
chaise. My looks gradually settled upon the
sleeping form which was half-reclining upon the
seat opposite to me. Either the gentle breeze or
else some movement of her own had disturbed the
veil which covered her countenance when the
light of the street-lamps beamed into the chaise
at Magliano ; and the folds of the dark mantle
that she wore, no longer completely enwrapped
her figure. Still the glimmer of the dawn was too
dim, vague, and uncertain to reveal her appear-
ance to me all in an instant; and it came upon
my vision by degrees and in detail. Tresses of
the darkest shade, and with the richest natural
gloss upon them, were floating in a dishevelled
state beneath the veil which lay across her head ;
dark but delicately-pencilled brows over-arched
the eyes that were closed in slumber ; and the long
jetty fringes rested upon the pale cheeks. The
hue of her lips was of brightest scarlet — the chin
was softly rounded — the countenance was a perfect
classic oval : and then, as I caught the profile,
it showed me its faultless outline — the features
being delicately chiselled— the forehead high — the
nose slightly Grecian. Her complexion was evi-
dently pale naturally — but now paler still from
recent grief and excitement : the skin was fine-
grained and transparent, with that alabaster
smoothness which belongs to such complexions
when their pallor has a pure animation, and is not
the sickly whiteness which characterises ill-health.
From her countenance my eyes slowly wandered
over her shape ; and this was of an exquisite
sylph-like symmetry. She was scarcely above the
middle height of woman, even if she at all ex-
ceeded it ; and her attitude — one of innocent un-
conscious abandonment — showed all the flowing
outlines of her statue-like modelled shape. It was
slender, but not to leanness. It had the becoming
contours of a female of eighteen or nineteen —
for such appeared to be the age of this beautiful
unknown. Her apparel was mean and poor ; and
by the very way in which it fitted, was evidently
never intended to be worn by her. Yet such was
the perfection of her symmetry that the ungain-
liness of her dress marred it not. There is a
beauty which nothing can disfigure ; and such was
the loveliness of her whom an extraordinary acci*

126

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OB, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SEEVANT.

dent had thus rendered my companion and placed
under my guardianship. There was a gentility
about her— a certain well-bred air— the scarcely
drfincable elegance and grace which belong to
women who have been tenderly nurtured, that dis-
played themselves notwithstanding she slept and
that therefore I could judge naught of what her
manners and demeanour were. At all events I
was impressed with the conviction that the poverty
of her garb was a libel upon the social position
which she ought properly to occupy.

She continued to sleep for upwards of a quarter
of an hour after thus I began to contemplate her

and so beautiful, and who evidently had not always
been in a position teaching her the bitter expe'
rieuces of the world's woes and cares.

'•'I can assure you," I went on to say, *■ that you
may rely on my friendship ; and you must not
hesitate to mention how I can serve you."

" You," she observed, bending upon me for a
moment a look of unspeakable gratitude, "are
about to visit Eome for the first time ? — and you
will consequently be a stranger there ?"

"Yes," I responded : " but that will not prevent
me from doing whatsoever I can to serve you; for
I have the command of ample pecuniary means — ■

and in the meantime the light of the morning be- ' pray pardon the observation— and these are at your

came stronger. At length she slowly opened her
large dark eyes, full of a soft lustrous sweetness
and a semi-mournful penslveness, like those of the
gazelle : and now for the first time our looks en-
countered each other, though we had been so many
hours in that vehicle together.

CHAPTEE cm.

A MODEST blush overspread the countenance of
the beautiful stranger, as she started up from her
half- reclining posture to a sitting one; and her
looks were immediately cast down. There was an
unmistakable air of virgin innocence and maiden
modesty about her ; and I felt angry with myself
for having, at the outset of our encounter, fancied
for a single minute that she could have been in
any way tainted with criminality. Y^et this regret
was of course ridiculous and most uncalled-for, in-
asmuch as when in total darkness I could form no
conception how sweetly ingenuous my companion's
aspect would prove to be.

Presently, as the blush died away from her
cheeks, she lifted her eyes timidly and bashfully
towards my countenance : but her glance only lin

disposal.

"' You are an Englishman — and therefore a Pro-
testant," she murmuringly said, with another
s\viftly darted look of deepest gratitude; "and I
who have been taught to regard Protestants
But no matter ! I could say much "

And here she stopped short, overcome by her
feelings. For a few minutes she held her kerchief
to her eyes ; and when she withdrew it, I saw that
sue had been weeping.

" Yes," she said, "' you can render me a service.
Why should I not tell you the truth so far as to
confess that the door of no home will be thrown
open to receive me in that city which we are about
to enter — that I have no friend who will give me
an asylum ? Or why should I be ashamed to add
that I fled penniless from the midst of my perse-
cutors? Ah!" she suddenly ejaculated, " there is
one thing I must beseech of you — one boon that
you must grant me in addition to the immensity
of the obligation under which you have placed
me ! It is that you will not breathe in the ear of
a living soul the adventure of t'ae past night. No
— not even to your dearest friend — not in the most
confidential discourse "

'• Rest assured," I said, " that the adventure is
not one of which I should wilfully make a parade :
for without ungenerously seeking to penetrate the
circumstances that surround you, it is evident on

gered there for a moment, which seemed sufficient the face of them that they are of too delicate a
to convince her that my looks did not falsify what- ' nature to become the subject of idle gossip. And
soever assurances my words had given her some I now tell me what can I really do for you ? Shall
few hours back. I spoke gently to her — inquired I I find you apartments in some respectable hotel,
if she were refreshed by her slumber — and on I where you may be under matronly care-

looking forth from the window, informed her that
we were now within sight of the Eternal City.
Yes : for there, in the distance, rose the great cu-
pola—the mighty dome of St. Peter's, like a dark
cloud hanging in the air.

Iso, no !" she exclaimed in an agitated and
almost frightened manner : " let me seek the
humblest lodging — some obscure place where I can

bury myself for a time "

"You yourself are no stranger in Rome," I

" And I shall behold Rome once again I" said my I observed : " I gathered this much from a remark
companion in a voice that was scarcely audible ; you made just now. Tell me where I can seek
amidst the emotions which evidently agitated her : , for such lodgings as you require r"

while for an instant her small, white, beautifully
formed hands were clasped together.

"May I ask," I said, "to which particular
quarter of Rome you desire to be taken ? or

She reflected for upwards of a minute : there
seemed the anguish of bewilderment in her
thoughts : and again I deeply, deeply compassion-
ated her. At length, as a sudden idea appeared

whether I can in any way serve you on our arrival to strike her — and it seemed one full of joyous
there?" hope— she exclaimed, "There is perhaps a being

She looked at me with a sort of bewilderment who will receive me — a kind old woman — the
in her gaze : distress and blank uncertainty were nurse of my infancy — and if she be still alive, I
blended in her expression -. her aspect struck me ! shall find a home with her."

as that of one who painfully felt herself to be She mentioned the place where she wished the
homeless, friendless, penniless— and yet to have vehicle to stop ; and in a few minutes more we
some object more or less defined, but still difiicult, | were entering the Eternal City. She drew the
in her view. It went to my very heart to behold j folds of her veil thickly over her countenance,
such a look on the countenance of one so young | evidently to conceal it as much as pcssible ; and

JOSEPH 'WllMOT; OE, THE MFMOIRS OF A MANSERVANT.

127

she enveloped her form completely with the capa-
cious mantle. Looking forth from the window, I
repeated to the postilion the address which my
fair companion had mentioned : he appeared to be
ignorant of it : she requested me to name some
additional particulars— which I accordingly did ;
and now he comprehended whither he was to
drive.

'•' It is but a poor neighbourhood," said the
young lady ; " and he might well be unacquainted
with it in the first instance."

For a few minutes silence prevailed ; and I was
thinking to myself what course my companion
■would adopt, or what I myself could suggest, if
she found that the old nurse was either dead or
removed, — when she said, as she glanced forth at
the aspect of a narrow and poor-looking street
which we were just entering, " We are now about
to part : for whether or not she whom I hope to
find be still here, yet in this quarter shall I obtain
a lodging that will suit me. "What can I say to
you ? how express my gratitude ? Words fail me !
—but rest assured that until the latest moment of
my life your noble generosity — the mingled mag-
nanimity and delicacy of your conduct — will

remain in my memory ! Yes — Oh ! yes never,

never shall I forget all you have done for me !"

Her voice was tremulous with emotions while
she thus spoke ; and as the vehicle stopped, she
proffered me her hand. I took it, — at the same
time asking, in terms as delicate as possible,
whether she would not permit me to leave my purse
in her possession ? She at once declined ; and de-
scending from the chaise, the door of which the
postilion had just opened, she disappeared from
my view — but not without flinging upon me an-
other look of fervent gratitude ere she crossed the
threshold of the house which she was entering. I
now named to the postilion the address of the
hotel at which I intended to put up, and to which
I was recommended by the proprietor of the hotel
where I had last stayed in Florence. On arriving
at that establishment, I was accommodated with
apartments, though it was nearly filled with guests
—chiefly French, English, and Germans. I at
once retired to bed, for I was wearied by an un-
remitted travel since ten o'clock in the forenoon
of the preceding day : but I could scarcely close
my eyes in slumber— for my adventure with the
fair unknown continued to haunt me like a wild
fanciful dream.

I rose at about noon — partook of breakfast —
and then issued forth to ramble about the city, —
determined to postpone until the following day the
presentation of the letters of introduction with
which the Count of Livorno had furnished me. I
experienced strange and solemn sensations while
wandering through the streets of the city founded
by Eomulus so many, many centuries back. I
felt that wherever I was walking, had trodden
the feet of some of the greatest men whose names
belong to any history whether ancient or modern ;
and that though the same buildings by which I
now passed, had not met their view, yet it was
nevertheless upon this same soil which their feet
had pressed, and the same heaven overhead to which
they had looked up. Methought that here, where
I was pursuing my way, the Great Camillus, who
delivered his native city from Brennus and the bar-
baric Gauls, might have walked in times far back

— that there Caesar, the friend of the people, who
fell a victim to Brutus and the haughty Roman
aristocracy, might also have wandered in thought
or proceeded in triumph — that Pompey, the great
commander and the representative of the patrician
orders, might have spurned the dust from his
proud feet while rambling there. Many, many
other memories, gathered from my readings of the
past, moved in solemn array through my mind :
but, as I have before said, it is not my purpose in
this book to inflict unnecessary digressions upon
the reader.

On the following day, and at a suitable hour, I
thought of presenting my letters of introduction.
One was to the Count ot Tivoli — the other to
Signor Avellino. They were both intimate ac-
quaintances of the Count of Livorno — they spoke
the English language, and were fond of the Eng-
lish people; and this was one of the main reasons
that had induced the Grand Duke of Tuscany's
nephew to commend me to their notice. Procuring
a hackney-vehicle, I proceeded in the first instance
to the mansion of the Count of Tivoli. The build-
ing was spacious and of antiquated architecture ;
but the apartments had been so beautifully
modernized that on entering those handsomely
furnished rooms the memory ceased to retain the
impression of the comparatively rude and sombre
exterior. There were numerous domestics in
handsome liveries lounging in the entrance hall ;
and one of them conducted me through several
apartments into a well appointed library, where
the Count of Tivoli was seated at the table read-
ing a book. He was a man of about fifty— of the
middle height, but appearing taller than he really
was from the dignified manner in which he held
himself when in a standing posture. His counte-
nance was pale, with a somewhat severe expression,
yet with an air of pensiveness deepening at times
almost into melancholy. His demeanour — though
aristocratic, as already hinted — did not impress me
with an idea of a cold hauteur, but seemed to be
one that could easily unbend ; while his manner,
though reserved at first, was evidently susceptible
of blandness and kindness. I presented him the
Count of Livorno's letter : he motioned me to take
a seat ; and I saw that his countenance lost its
expression of severity and reserve as he perused
the contents of that epistle.

" A young gentleman who is so well recom-
mended," he said, speaking in very good English,
and profiering me his hand at the same time,
"cannot receive other than a most cordial welcome
from me. You have come to Rome, Mr. Wilmot,
to see everything that is worth inspection, and to
form an acquaintance with manners and customs
in the Eternal City. In all these aims I will
assist you. My son — my only son — the Viscount,
is absent for the day : but to-morrow he will call
upon you at your hotel. He wiU cheerfully act as
your guide in taking you about the city ; and in
the evening you will dine with us."

I thanked his lordship for his kindness ; and he
then proposed to conduct me to his picture-
gallery, which contained several works by the
g^eat masters. Thither we proceeded ; and as the
Count of Tivoli directed my attention to the prin-
cipal features of attraction in each picture, he
expatiated thereon with an excellent critical taste,
and in so mild, off-hand, and well-bred a manner, |

128

JOSEPH WILMOT; OH, THE MEM0IE3 OF A MAN-SERVANT.

that there was not the slightest tinge of pedantry
or dogmatism in his remarks. Another gallery
contained some exquisite specimens of sculpture ;
and these also I inspected with the greatest plea-
sure. The Count then led me to an apartment
where refreshments were served up ; and as we
were proceeding thither, I thought to myself that
in one short hour I had learnt more of the sister
arts of painting and of sculpture than ever I had
dreamt of before. No wonder that Sir Matthew
Heseltine had bidden me travel upon the Conti-
nent to improve my tastes, to enlarge my expe-
rience of the world, and to lead me to a just ap-
preciation of the elegances and refinements of
life.

I learnt, while seated with the Count of Tivoli
at an elegantly served luncheon (to usa the English
term for the light repast), that the Countess had
long been dead, and that he had only his son the
Viscount residing with him. He asked me if I
had brought letters of introduction to any other
persons in Rome; and replying in the affirmative,
I mentioned the name of Siguor Avellino. Me-
thought for an instant that his countenance assumed
a strange look ; but if so, it was so barely per-
ceptible, and passed away so rapidly, that I imme-
diately afterwards concluded I must have been
mistaken. He continued to discourse in the same
friendly urbane manner as before ; and I made him
acquainted with all the incidents in connexion with
the Count of Livorno's sojourn among the ban-
ditti—the capture of Marco Uberti— the Count's
love all'air with Olivia — and the restoration of his
elder brother, the Marquis of Cassano, to the
Grand Duke's favour. I was necessarily led to
mention the part which I had borne in all these
proceedings : but in pursuance of the advice of the
Count of Livorno, I abstained from suffering it to
appear that I had ever filled a menial situation.
Tiie letter of iatroJuction which I had brought,
alluded to those adventures, and had desired the
Count of Tivoli to request detailed explanations
from my lips ; and this was how I became led into
the narration thereof. The Count of Tivoli lis-
tened with the utmost attention ; and when I had
concluded, he was in the midst of expressing his
delight that all had ended so happily — but his re-
marks were interrupted by the opening of the
door and the entrance of a domestic, who
presented him a letter on a silver tray. The
servant withdrew ; and the Count — appearing
at once to recognise the handwriting, as well as to
be slightly troubled at that recognition — requested
me to excuse him while he read it. He broke the
seal ; and as he began to peruse the letter, that
slight trouble which his features had already dis-
played, immediately increased.

" Forgive me, Mr. Wilmot," he said, suddenly
laying the letter down upon the table, and speaking
in a voice the agitation of which he could not alto-
gether subdue, though he evidently strove to recall
Ms self-possession, — " forgive me for thus abruptly,
and I fear discourteously breaking off an inter-
view which has afforded me much satisfaction."

" My lord," I said, " I am afraid that I have
already intruded too long ;" — and I rose to depart.

"No, no, Mr. Wilmot — do not entertain such an
idea," said the nobleman, pressing my hand warmly.
'' You are indeed most truly welcome, I hope to
see more of you."

I again thanked the Count for his kindness ; and
issued forth from his presence, having every reason
to be gratified by my reception and thankful to
the Count of Livorno for such an introduction, —
but wondering what could possibly have disturbed
the worthy nobleman in a manner which I con-
jectured to be more serious than he was willing to
betray. Re-entering t'ae hackuey-vehicle, I gave
the driver the address of Signor Avellino ; and in
about half.aa-hour the coach stopped at the gale
of a house of much smaller dimensions but of far
more modern exterior than the palace of the Count
of Tivoli. There was only one domestic in livery
lounging in the ball ; and I soon perceived that
Signor Avellino was a man of limited means iu
comparison with the nobleman whoin I had just
left. I mean the reader to understand by tliis,
that my impression was to the effect that where
the Count of Tivoli possessed thousands Avellino
could only boast of hundreds. At the same time,
the dwelling of the latter wore an air of perfect
comfort, and denoted an easy competency on the
part of its occupant — while that of the Count of
Tivoli indicated opulence.

The domestic led me up the staircase, and then
along a corridor, at the extremity of which ho
throw open a door, announclug my name. I raadis
two or three steps forward — it was an artist's
studio which I was thus about to enter — and a tall
hpndsome young man, in an elegant morning-gown,
was employed with his brush at the easel. He in-
stantaneously— indeed almost with startling ab-
ruptness—came forn-ard with the air of one who
was annoyingly disturbed in his avocations. I
stepped back, struck with the idea that I had un-
wittingly been rendered an intruder. Signor
Avellino came hastily out of the studio— locked
the door — put the key in his pocket — addressed a
few words in an angry tone of reproof (thougli I
could not understand what they were) to his do-
mestic— and then, with a courteous bow to me, led
the way into a wcll-furuished sitting-room. I now
presented him with my letter of introduction ; and
the instant he beheld the handwriting, he recog-
nised it — for his countenance lighted up with pk>a-
sure ; and he ejaculated the name of the Count of
Livorno. With a manner of such well-bred
courtesy that it contrasted strangely with what I
conceived to be almost the rudeness of my first
reception, he motioned me to a seat: and then
proceeded to read the letter.

"My dear sir," he exclaimed, before he had
half finished its contents, " can you possibly par-
don what may appear to have been the grossest
rudeness on my part ? But I have so constantly
charged that stupid servant of mine never to in-
troduce any one to my studio •"

" Pray do not think it necessary," I interrupted
him, " to offer any excuses :" — for he had grasped
me so warmly by the hand, his manner was so
frank and sincere, and his look so replete with
vexation at the conduct for which he was apolo-
gizing, that I was instantaneously propitiated.

Indeed, the welcome which he now gave me,
was most kind and warm; and he spoke my native
language with almost as perfect a fluency as did his
friend the Count of Livorno himself. He was not
above four-and-twonty years of age : I have already
said that he was tall— I will now add that his form
I was of a slender but manly and well-knit sym •

JOSEPH WILMOr; OE, THE ME1I0IE3 OP A MAU-SEETANT.

129

uini"iM:ir!ii;,,.|,i!;;i

metry. His countenance was remarkably Land-
some : it had a certain classic delicacy of features
— bis complexion was a pale olive — his hair dtrL,
luxuriant, and flowing in wavy masses down to
the collar of his morning-gown. Tliere was a deep
pensiveness in the expression of his countenance
when the features were at rest : but he was evi-
dently a man of strong feelings — and those fea-
tures became perfectly animated with the sincerest
pleasure as he welcomed me. His voice — some-
what low, and also imbued with a certain inde-
finable mournfulness — was full of a rich masculine
music ; and uiethought that it was the kind of voice
best calculated to give all the most pleasing effects
to the golden harmony of the language of that
Bunny clime to whicli he belonged. Altogether,
Signor Avellino was a young man who, when the
first momentary impression of our somewhat un-
comfortable meeting had passed away, was admir-
ably calculated to interest and please me,
69.

' Most welcome indeed," he said, again pressing
my hand with warmth after he had glanced a
second time at the letter of introduction, " is a
friend of the Count of Livorno. You must not
think, Mr. Wilmot, that because you found me in
a studio, I am an artist by profession ; and I
beseech you to consider that it is because I am
diffident in respect to my amateur achievements,
I am angry when that thick-pated domestic of
mine introduces any one thither. I practise the
art of painting in the same way as the Count
of Livorno has pursued that of medicine : namely,
for amusement. But enough of explanations,
which indeed are only intended to serve as apolo-
gies for that seeming rudeness on my part. We
will now take luncheon and discourse at our
leisure."

"Thank you," I answered: "but I have jusfc
been partaking of a dejeuner with the Count of
Livorno."

130

JOSEPH WIIMOT; OE, THE MEMOIRS OP A MAX-SEEVANT.

I made this remark with all the iugenuousness
derived from its perfect truth, aud -without the
slightest ulterior object ; I was therefore both
astonished and pained wheu I perceived how dark
a shade suddenly came OTer Avellino's handsome
countenance, and then how abruptly he turned
as if to hide some powerful emotion. All in
an instant I recollected that strange look which I
had fancied to have transiently passed over the
Count of Tivoli's features when I mentioned the
name of Signor Avellino : I now perceived there-
fore that there was something of an unpleasant
nature in connexion with that nobleman and
with this gentleman — and, that thenceforth I
must be upon my guard how I mentioned
the name of either in the presence of the
other. Indeed, I now felt especially embarrassed
and awkward, inasmuch as Francesco Avellino had
turned away towards the window, and there re-
mained looking forth (or at least appearing to do
,so, though he might be gazing at vacancy for
aught that I knew to the contrary) for two or
three minutes. It seemed indeed as if he had for-
gotten my presence altogether; and therefore I
conceived that by my unfortunate though innocent
mention of the Count de Tivoli's name, I had
stirred up some very strong and painful emotions
in Francesco Avellino's breast. I could say
nothing — I scarcely knew what to apologize for ;
aud I felt that if I were to enter upon any such
excuse, it would tend to aggravate the evil already
accomplished.

" Again, my dear Mr. "VYilmot," said Avellino,
slowly turning away from the casement, "must I
beseech your forgiveness for what may appear
strange if not actually rude on my part."

His countenance was now very pale indeed :
his eyes appeared as if tears had been trickling
down them while he stood at the window : and it
was evident that he was vainly struggling against
a feeling of despondency that bordered even upon,
the profoundest dejection.

" I beg that you will offer me no apologies,"
I said. " I am afraid that I have inadver-
tently '

" One word, my dear Mr. Wilmot," interrupted
Avellino, laying his hand upon my arm, and look-
ing with mournful iutentness upon my counte-
nance. " I know that the Count of Livorno was
as intimate with the Count oi Tivoli as he was
with myself : indeed it was at the Tivoli palace
that I first became acquainted with the G-rand
Duke of Tuscany's nephew. But he knows not
what has since occurred," continued Avellino, in
accents that were low and full of the deepest
mourdfulness, — " or he would have forwarned you

however, I can easily understand that you

have b%pn furnished with a letter of introduction
to the Count of Tivoli :" — and again interrupting
himself, he asked, " Did you happen to mention
my name in his lordship's presence ?"

'•'I did," was I he response: and I felt both
pained and embarrassed by the turn which the
conversation had taken.

Avellino reflected for upwards of a minute ; and
then said, but hesitatingly, as if diffident in putting
the question, " And how looked his lordship when
my name was mentioned ?"

"To confess the truth," I answered, "it did
strike me at the instant that there was somethinsr

strange — but only momentarily so — in the expres-
sion of his countenance; and as it passed so ra-
pidly away, I fancied that I might have been
mistaken in respect to that look."

"Well, my dear Mr. "Wilmot," said Francesco
Avellino, "one word more — and we will change the
discourse. In future may I request -"

" I understand you," I interrupted him : " there
shall be no inadvertence on my part either towards
his lordship or in respect to yourself."

Avellino grasped my hand, and pressed it with
a degree of fervour which seemed to ask my pardon
for having so far inflicted personal matters upon
me, and which likewise conveyed his gratitude for
the assurance I had just given him. Then assuming
a gayer look— though I thought and feared that it
was to a certain degree forced — he said, " And
now what are you going to do with yourself for
the remainder of the day ? It is only three
o'clock," he continued, looking at his watch : " we
shall have plenty of time to visit one or two of the
public buildings or galleries of art — and in the

evening you must dine with me unless indeed

you have any other engagement "

"No," I answered, — "not for to-day."

" I comprehend," rejoined Avellino quickly :
" you must devote yourself alternately to those
friends to whom you have been introduced, and
each of whom will be anxious to make much of
you not merely for the Count of Livorno's sake,
but likewise for your own."

He issued from the room to make some change
in his toilet; and in a few minutes he rejoined me.
We passed the remainder of that day together;
and when I took leave of him in the evening, after
being handsomely entertained at his residence, I
returned to my hotel, exceedingly well pleased with
my new friend Francesco Avellino.

CHAPTER CIV.

THE VISCOUKT OF TIVOLI.

On the following day, at a little before noon, the
waiter brought me in a card on which I read the
name of the Viscount of Tivoli; and I requested
that this nobleman might be at once introduced.
He entered ; and I must confess that I beheld in
the Count of Tivoli's son and heir a personage of a
very different appearance from that which I had
foreshadowed in my own mind. He was barely
twenty years of age — of a stature so short as to
be almost diminutive— very thin, but not ill-made,
nor with any ungainliness of figure or limbs. He
had red hair— a complexion that was very much
freckled — small gray eyes — but a superb set of teeth.
He was dressed in a very elegant manner — yet not
with that Pxtreme of fashion which transcended
the bounds of good taste. He advanced into the
room with a well-bred air of politeness ; and prof-
fering me his hand, said, " I am happy to make
the acquaintance of a friend of the Count of
Livorno."

He spoke the English language well ; and though
in his look and manner there was a certain bleniiug
of patrician pride and boyish self-sufficiency— a
strange commingling of dignity and conceit — yet he
was courteous enough, and appeared to have every

JOSEPH WILMOT; OE, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT.

131

disposition to place himself at once on friendly
and familiar terms ■with me. But I could not
possibly take the same immediate liking to him that
I had conceived for his father — much less that
friendship which had so quickly sprung up in my
heart towards Avellino. And as for the personal
appearance of the Viscount of Tivoli, it was indeed
very different from what 1 anticipated. I had ex-
pected to see the reflection of the father's good
looks though in a more youthful form : whereas
there was not the slightest family similitude be-
tween them.

" I believe my father," resumed the Viscount,
* made an appointment for me to call upon you
to-day, and act as your guide to whatsoever places
you may think fit to visit. My carriage is at the
door — and I am at your service. Although we
now meet for the first time, let us throw off all re-
straint, and mutually deport ourselves as if we
had known each other for a more lengthened
period.'

I made a suitable response ; and there was an
air of so much frankness, good temper, and cor-
diality in the way in which the Viscount spoke,
that I was really angry with myself for not feeling
as satisfied with him as he appeared to be with me.
However, I resolved that whatever my feeling
might be, my manner and discourse should reci-
procate the friendliness of his own ; and I said to
myself, " Doubtless I shall like him much better
when we get more acquainted."

There was an elegant equipage waiting in front
of the hotel : wo entered — and proceeded to view
such places as I had not already seen. The Vis-
count talked a great deal, and evidently did his
best to amuse me : but I profited nothing from his
remarks upon the public buildings we visited, or
the specimens of art which we inspected. Ho
had not the critical taste nor sound judgment of
his father — much less the refined appreciation of
the beautiful or the awe-inspiring comprehension
of the pure and sublime which had been manifested
by Francesco Avellino. In some respects indeed
he was shallow even to border upon the frivolous :
yet I saw that he had been well educated, though
from a certain degree of mental incapacity he had
been unable to profit by those advantages of tuition.
Moreover, from a few observations which he let
drop I perceived that he was given to pleasure —
and that if I had only said the word, he would
have introduced me to scenes which, with the image
of Annabel in my mind, I had no inclination to
enter upon. I may add that he had a sort of
supercilious way of alluding to the lower orders,
and frequently expressed his contempt for every-
thing that was not associated with gentility : but
so far as his bearing towards me was concerned, it
increased in cordiality and friendship. I could not
however help thinking to myself, that if he knew
X had filled menial positions and had not always
been the gentleman in which character I now
figured, I might have experienced very different
treatment at his hands.

When our round was over, and the evening was
approaching, he ordered his coachman to drive to
the Tivoli palace ; and during our way thither, he
said, " You are to be my guest at dinner, you
know — and when I say my guest, it is literally so :
for my father enjoined me to make his apologies
for his unavoidable absence. The truth is, he was

called away from home yesterday evening bv a letter

of considerable importance 1 believe, bv the

bye, that the letter reached his hands at the time
you were with him : but he awaited my return in
the evening ere he set off— as he had to make cer-
tain communications to me— amongst which was
the pleasing intelligence that I was to show every
attention to a friend of the Count of Livorno."

By the time this speech was finished, the Vis-
count's equipage reached the Tivoli palace ; and
he conducted me to a sumptuously furnished
drawing-room, where we sate and conversed until
a domestic entered to announce that dinner was
served.

" T have invited no one to meet you," said the
Viscount, as we proceeded to another apartment,
" because I thought that on the first occasion we
would be tete-a-tete. My father told me that you
understood but little of Italian — he had forgotten
to inquire whether you spoke French— and there-
fore I was fearful of inviting guests whose lan-
guage you might not understand. However, as
you have informed me during our drive to-day that
you do speak French, we shall take care on another
occasion to have guests whom you may be pleased
to meet ; and as for your Italian, you will speedily
pick that up, as I can very well j udge."

The banquet to which we two sate down — for a
veritable banquet it proved to be — was of the most
elegant description, and was sumptuously served,
A domestic stood behind each chair, ready to anti-
cipate our slightest wants ; and two others stood
by the sideboard. The Viscount displayed a truly
Apician appetite; and he drank copiously of the
choice wines that were presented by the domestics.
He seemed astonished at my moderation : but he
was too well bred to press me to drink more than
I chose — though on the other hand he appeared
perfectly well inclined to drink enough for us both.
When I took leave of him in the evening, truth
compels me to state that he was something more
than merely excited by his potations.

I have mentioned that the hotel where I had
taken up my quarters, was much frequented by
foreigners ; and the coffee-room was well supplied
with English, French, and Grerman newspapers.
While at breakfast on the morning after my enter-
tainment at the Tivoli palace, I amused myself
with an English journal: and my looks lighted
on a paragraph announcing certain promotions
which had recently taken place in the ranks of
the British peerage. Amongst these I perceived
the name of Lord Eccleston, who was raised to the
degree of an Earl. The mention of that name
vividly called back to my mind all the mysterious
circumstances which had in any way brought my-
self in contact with those whom I must now call
the Earl and Countess of Eccleston; and the J
scenes which had taken place at Florence were \
seriously reviewed by me over and over again.
■ Would those mysteries be ever cleared vip? should
I ever learn why Lord Eccleston had been my
bitter persecutor, and how in Lanover he had found
so ready an agent for his atrocious machinations ?
And then too, I thought of those secret conversa-
tions which I had with Lady, now Countess of
Eccleston, near the bridge of Santa Trinitata; and
how she had offered to elevate me from a menial
position and provide for me in a pecuniary sense
for the remainder of my days.

132

JOSEPH WIIiMOT ; OE, THE MEMOIES O? A MAN-SEEVAUT.

I was ascending to my bed-chainber in the
hotel, for the purpose of comploting my morning
toilet, — when, on the first landing, 1 encountered a
gentleman and lady whom I at once recognised to
be Sir Alexander and Lady Carrondale. The re-
cognition was mutual : ejaculations of mingled
surprise and joy burst from their lips ; and my
hand was quickly clasped in that of the Baronet.
Then the beautiful Emmeline gave me her's ; and
they insisted upon my entering their sitting-room
to converse with them. My appearance, as well as
my presence as a guest at that lirst-rate hotel, had
shown thcui in a moment that some signal change
had taken place in my position since last they saw
me : but even if it were otherwise, I am convinced
that my reception would not have been one tittle
the less cordial on their part. Both were looking
exceedingly well — Sir Alexander handsomer than
ever, Emmeline more eminently beautiful. They
told me that they had only arrived in Rome on
the preceding evening, and that on the following
day they were to leave for Naples, where they
proposed to pass a few weeks. I inquired after
my old friend Mr. Duncansby ; and learnt that he
had very recently retired from business on a hand-
some fortune. Lady Carrondale then observed,
with an arch smile, that Dominie Clackmannan
and his friend Mr. Saltcoats were at this present
time travelling in Italy — that they had seen them
at Florence — and that probably I should fall in
with them, as they were shortly coming on to
Eome. No pointed question was put to me as to
the origin of my own changed position : but I saw
that both the Baronet and his wife entertained a
friendly interest and curiosity upon the subject. I
therefore of my own accord gave them a few hasty
particulars; and sincere were the congratulations
which they proffered me.

" I can assure you, my dear Mr. "Wilmot," said
Sir Alexander, " that your abrupt disappearance
from Scotland excited the profoundest grief on the
part of those who were interested in your welfare.
It may seem unnecessary now — but for my own
sake, lest I might be deemed to have been un-
grateful for all your generous kindness under cer-
tain trying and peculiar circumstances — I must
observe that I had formed certain views for your
welfare which I should only have been too happy
to carry out. However, we will not dwell upon
the past : suffice it for our satisfaction that we find
you here in a position which we always considered
you ought properly to fill. You must dine with
us in the evening, if you have no better engage-
ment."

I accepted the invitation ; and taking a tem-
porary leave of my friends, ascended to my cham-
ber. Having completed my toilet, I proceeded to
visit Francesco Avellino, according to an appoint-
ment made when I had parted from him a couple
of evenings back. This time the lacquey did not
conduct me to the studio — where however Avellino
was engaged, as ho informed me when he joined
me in the sitting-room. We went forth together,
and visited some buildings and institutions which
I had not before seen. Avellino had the entree to
the picture galleries of several of the palaces of
the Roman aristocracy ; and to these he introduced
me. As we were issuing from one of those pala-
tial mansions, I beheld the Viscount of Tivoli just
alighting from his equipage in front of the same

portal. The flush of scarlet suddenly suffused the
young nobleman's countenance at the first glance
which showed him who my companion was ; and
merely bestowing a friendly nod of recognition
upon me, he walked into the mansion with an air
of as dignified stateliness as his diminutive form
would enable him to assume. I could not help at
the same instant glancing towards Avellino ; and
I perceived that his countenance had become
deadly pale— that his lips were literally white — and
that he was agitated in the most powerful degree
throughout his entire being. He took my arm
without saying a word : but I felt that his hand was
trembling violently as it rested upon that arm of
mine. I was confused and embarrassed : for i(.
was one of those scenes in which a person likes
not to be mixed up.

"My dear Wilmot," said Francesco, abruptly
breaking that silence after it had lasted for some
minutes — and he spoke in a quick agitated
manner, — "after what you have just beheld, I
must say one word — and only one word ! Yes,
for my own sake I must give you the assurance
that there has never been aught dishonourable in
my conduct which led to the breach between
myself and the Tivolis "

" I can assure you, my dear friend," I answered,
" such explanation is altogether unnecessary ; and
I beseech you not to inflict pain upon yourse'f by
alluding to any subject of an unpleasant nature."

" Yes— but after such a scene as that," re-
sponded Avellino vehemently, " it was absolutely
necessary that I should give you, for my own sake,
the assurance which I have given. And now," ho
added, suddenly becoming calm again, " uot an-
other word upon the subject !"

He however continued depressed and dejected,
notwithstanding every attempt to rally his spirits,
for the remainder of the afternoon ; and when we
separated, I wondered much what could be the
cause of the severance between this young gen-
tleman and the Tivoli family. I dined with Sir
Alexander and Lady Carrondale according to in-
vitation ; and the evening was passed in a most
pleasant and agreeable manner.

On the following day the young Viscount of
Tivoli called upon me at about noon ; and ob-
serving towards me the same frank and familiar
bearing as heretofore, he said that he had come to
take me to visit a few of those places which yet
remained to be seen ; and after chatting in a
familiar easy way for about ten minutes, he ob-
served, as if suddenly recollecting something, and
speaking in a more serious manner, " My dear
Mr. Wilmot, you must forgive me for not having
stopped to shake hands with you yesterday " •

" Pray do not think that any apology is need-
ful," I hastened to interject, determined to put a
stop as much as possible to any unpleasant allu-
sions or reminiscences, whatever they might be, on
the part of those to whom I had received letters of
introduction but who were at variance amongst
themselves.

" iS'^ay— but an explanation is necessary," per-
sisted the young Viscount : and disregarding an-
other attempt of mine to check him, he hastened
to observe, "The fact is that my father and myself
are not friendly with Avellino ; and I could not
possibly under such circumstances stop to speak to
you when you were in his company. As a matter

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OR, THE MEMOIES OF A MAN-SEETANT.

133

of course our quarrel has got nothing to do with
you ; and we do not take umbrage that you should
be intimate with Avellino, any more than he can
slight you on account of your friendship' with us."

" Now let us set off," I said, anxious to put an
end to the topic on which the Viscount bad turned
the discourse. " I am desirous to visit those in-
stitutions to which you have alluded."

We accordingly descended from my apartment,
and took our seat in the Yiscouat's elegant car-
riage.

" My father is not come back yet," ho said, with
an apparently careless manner, as the equipage
drove off; "and he maybe some few days still
absent. I had a letter from him this morning, in
which he tells me that he has not succeeded in the
business which took him away from homo. He
was not unmindful of you in his letter — but
charged me to show you every attention."

" I am exceedingly obliged to his lordship for
thus recollecting me," I said ; " and I deeply feel
the kindness of you both."

After visiting a variety of places, we returned
to the hotel, — where the Viscount accepted an in-
vitation to dine with me ; and I found that he was
just as ready to pay his respects to the wines that
were placed upon the board, as I had observed him
to be at the Tivoli palace. As the juice of the
grape took effect upon him, he seemed inclined to
be familiarly confidential : in short he got into one
of those maudlin humours when the individual
cannot resist the temptation of speaking on the
subject which is uppermost in his mind, though in
bis sober moments it is the very one ho would
chiefly avoid.

" You see, my dear Wilmot," he said, contem-
plating me with a tipsy gaze, " we all have our
troubles and annoyances in this world — the highest
and richest as well as the humblest and poorest.
On my soul ! they have excellent wine at your
hotel — but you don't do justice to it."

•' On the contrary," I said, " I am keeping you
company:" — although indeed he was drinking
three or four glasses to every one of which I par-
took.

" Well, that's all right," responded the Viscount,
filling his glass with a shaking hand : then draw-
ing his chair closer to me, he said, " We were
speaking this morning, you recollect about^you
known who I mean eK?"

"Let me ring for another bottle!" I exclaimed,
anxious to give a turn to the discourse. '•' That
was a splendid collection of pictures which wo
visited this afternoon at the Barbarini palace."

'■ Yes — the pictures were good enough," said
the Viscount: "but if you found me at all ab-
stracted, my dear fellow "

" Not a bit of it !— you were highly enter-
taining. And that sciUpture gallery which we
afterwards "

" The sculptures were good enough, too," inter-
rupted the Viscount. " But, you see, my thoughts
kept running on — on — Francesco Avellino — and
when I reflected on his presumption "

" Here is a fresh bottle !" I exclaimed, " let us
fill our glasses— and you shall tell me about the
grand ecclesiastical procession that is to take
place."

" Oh ! I remember— talking of ecclesiastical
processions," said the Viscount, harping with tipsy

pertinacity upon the same string, " it was just
about this time last year — on the day of a grand
procession of that sort — that the terrific explosion
took place with Avellino. You and I are friends,
Wilmot "

" You will give me a scat in your carriage on
the day of the procession ?" I exclaimed, with an-
other effort to turn the discourse.

" Yes— a dozen if you like. But I was going
to tell you "

" The wine stands with jcu !" I somewhat
vehemently interrupted him. " Shall we finish
the bottle? or shall we go out for a walk? — or
anything you like r" — and, I might have added,
" so long as you leave off talking on this subject :"
but I of course did not give utterance to words
which would have constituted the grossest rude-
ness, although I was exceedingly averse to be per-
force dragged into the necessity of listening to
any details of a purely personal character— the
more especially after the promise I had given to
Francesco Avellino to avoid unpleasant allusions
alike in his hearing and in that of the Tivolis.

"Yes — we will finish the bottle," said the Vis-
count, catching at that portion of my proposals
which best suited his humour at the moment.

" But between you and me, Wilmot excellent

wine ! it was a gross act of presumption

as clear as crystal ! a gross act for the plebeian

Avellino to aspire to the hand of — of — vaj sister.
I'll tell you how it was eh ?"

" Eeally, my lord "

At this moment the door opened; and one of the
waiters of tho hotel entered to announce that a
servant from the Tivoli palace had an important
message to deliver to the Viscount. The young
nobleman desired that the footman might be
ordered to step in ; and when the lacquey made
his appearance, he spoke a few words in a low tone,
and in the Italian language, to his young master.
The Viscount, giving him a hasty response, mo-
tioned him to depart ; and then- rising from his
seat, he said, " I am sorry I must leave you so
soon — particularly in the middle of that bottle :
but my father has come back — suddenly and unex-
pectedly, as you may suppose after what I told you
in the morning about the probability of his absence
being prolonged. He has something of import-
ance to communicate— and I must go to him at
once."

Having partaken of a draught of soda-water in
order to get rid, as he said, of the fumes of the
wine, the Viscount of Tivoli wrung my hand and
issued from the room — but with a somewhat un-
steady gait.

CHAPTER CV.

ATELLIXO'S TALE.

I WAS sitting in my own apartment on the fore-
noon of the following day, thinking of the revela-
tion which the Viscount of Tivoli had made to
me on the preceding evening in respect to Signer
Avellino's aspiration to the hand of his sister, —
when a note was brought to me from Avellino
himself. It was to the effect that he felt exceed-
ingly unwell— that he should not be enabled to

134

JOSEPH WILMOT; OE, THE STEMOIES OF A ilAN-SEETAXT.

call upon me — and that he hoped I would pay
him a visit for an hour or two. I accordingly set
out to walk to Avellino's residence, which was
about a mile and a half from the hotel. On my
way thither, I continued to reflect upon the revela-
tion which had been made to me ; and I wondered
that the Viscount should have stigmatised as
plebeian a young gentleman who had evidently
been well-bred and well-educated — who was inde-
pendent in his pecuniary means — who had visited
at the Tivoli palace — and who was the intimate
friend of the Duke of Tuscany's nephew. There
seemed to be a contradiction between the facts
just enumerated and the aspersion intended to be
thrown upon Francesco Avellino. There is an-
other point which I must mention : and this is,
that the Viscount's revelation had for the first
time made me acquainted that he possessed a
sister at all : for though his father the Count had
not exactly said that he had no other child but his
son and heir, yet I had gathered this much from
the phraseology which he had made use of at the
time when he spoke of his wife having long been
dead and of his living entirely alone with his son.
But now the idea struck me that the young lady
herself might be dead : for although the Viscount's
words had represented her as being alive about a
year back, yet if she had perished shortly after-
wards, the time of mourning would have already
expired, as this period amongst the aristocrac^,- on
the Continent only lasts for six months, even
when the sable garments were worn for the nearest
relatives.

"While reflecting on these topics, I reached Avel-
lino's dwelling ; and was conducted to an apart-
ment where I found him reclining upon a sofa.
He looked pale, ill, and careworn; and though he
endeavoured to smile and to cheer up on perceiving
me, yet I saw — and saw with pain too — that
he was in reality a prey to a deep inward dejec-
tion.

'•' My dear friend," he said, " I am sorry that I
could not call upon you to-day — sorry likewise that
I feel myself utterly unequal to the exertion of
accompanying you to some of those institutions
which you experience so much pleasure in visiting.
But I will deal frankly with you : that little inci-
dent of the day before yesterday — you know to what
I allude "

'•■ Then wherefore allude to it ?" I exclaimed :
" why dwell upon a topic which is fraught with un-
pleasant feelings ?"

" Because those feelings are stronger than my-
self," replied Francesco. " I beseech you to bear
with me. Ifot for the world would I unduly ob-
trude my griefs or personal concerns upon any one
to his own annoyance : but from the very hour that
you and I met, there has been so friendly an
understanding between us — our dispositions to a
certain extent appear to assimilate, if you will par-
don me for saying so "

" Tes— I experience a sincere friendship for you,"
I said, taking his hand ; '"'and therefore it grieves
me profoundly to see you brooding thus despond-
ingly over your sorrows."

•• And the source of those sorrows," said Avel-
lino, looking with mournful earnestness on my coun-
tenance— '• is it indeed altogether unknown to you ?
IS'o — I see that it is not ! — and I know the young
Viscount of Tivoli well enough to feel assured that

after the incident of the day before yesterday ha
could not restrain himself, in his frivolous or his
tipsy moods, from touching upon it."

" I will not attempt to mislead you," I said.
'•' The Viscount dined with me last evening ; and
though most sincerely I pledge myself that I did
all I could to divert him from a topic to which he
persisted in recurring "

" Yet you could not ? Jf o — I am confident you
could not !" said Francesco : then, after a brief
pause, he added, "But if he told you the
tale — ; — "

" '^o — he said but a few words," I interrupt-
ingly remarked. " But I beseech you to change
the topic."

"If it be displeasing to you, I will," rejoined
Avellino : " but if it be merely for my sake that you
have proffered that entreaty, I would rather pursue
the topic — because, in a word, you are my friend —
there is comfort and solace in the friendship of such
an one as you — and it will soothe me to breathe the
tale of my sorrows in your ear."

"Eemember, my dear Avellino," I said, "that
I am also on friendly terms with the Count and
Viscount of Tivoli — I have experienced their hos-
pitality and their kindness "

'■'Eest assured," interrupted Francesco, "that
by listening to my tale you will not prove traitor-
ous to your friendship towards them, even though
you should be inclined to vouchsafe your sympathy
to me. Indeed, I now feel that situated as you
are with respect to them and with reference to
myself^and likely as you seem to sojourn some
httle time at Some — it wiU be better that you
should know all. Since the occurrence of the day
before yesterday, when I sustained that sovereign
insult on the part of the Viscount, I have reflected
deeply upon these things whereof I am speaking.
You see how they have affected me — how they
have preyed upon my mind — and even upon my
health ; and I have come to the conclusion to un-
bosom myself entirely. There is no breach of
faith on my part in teUing the tale, nor on yours
in listening to it."

I could urge no further objection : and indeed I
should be telling an untruth if I did not confess
that I had all along experienced a curiosity to
fathom that mystery which the Viscount of
Tivoli had partially revealed on the preceding
evening.

'•■ My narrative," began Francesco Avellino, " re-
quires some little introduction. My father was a
merchant at Civita Vecchia ; and I was an only
son. He was rich ; and he afforded me the means
of receiving a good education — by which I hope I
have not altogether failed to profit. When I was
eighteen years of ago my father experienced sud-
den reverses in his commercial pursuits — and — and
— in plain terms he became bankrupt. The cala-
mity preyed so deeply upon his mind that he sank
under its weight — and in a few weeks was con-
signed to the grave by the side of my mother who
had perished a few years previously. When his
efl^ects were realised, they afforded sufficient to pay
only twenty-five per cent. : the name of my dead
father was therefore in the commercial world tar-
nished and dishonoured. I was then adopted by
an uncle, — who, though possessed of ample means,
had sternly refused to assist his late brother at a
time when such opportune succour would have

JOSEPH WlIMOT ; OB, THE MEilOIBS OP A 31 A^'- SERVANT.

135

Baved him from ruin, disgi'ace, and a premature
^eatb. My uncle sent me to England to take a
situation in an Italian mercantile firm in London ;
and there I remained a couple of years, during
which period I rendered myself familiar with the
language of your native country. One day I re-
ceived intelligence that my uncle was dead, and
that I was the heir of his property. Hastening
back to Italy, I arrived at Civita Vecchia, where
my uncle had dwelt, and took possession of the for-
tune which I had inherited. Had I kept it all, I
should have been exceedingly rich : but I lost no
time in availing myself of the opportunity to rescue
my father's name from obloquy and reproach. I
assembled all his creditors, and paid them their due
to the uttermost farthing, — together with interest
for the time that the liabilities had been standing.
This outlay was large ; and I thus suddenly reduced
myself from a state of opulence to that mere com-
petency which I now possess."

" Ob, but what admirable conduct on your part !"
I exclaimed, seizing Avellino's hand and pressing it
with enthusiastic effusion.

" It was only the performance of a duty," mildly
answered Francesco, though with a look he ex-
pressed his gratitude for the approval I had just
conveyed. " I remained but a few weeks at Civita
Vecchia," he continued : " and removing to Rome,
took up my residence in this house. I soon formed
\ acquaintances — soon made friends — and was intro-
duced into the best society. Is it surprising that
I did not proclaim myself to be the son of the de-
ceased merchant of Civita Vecchia ? Yet heaven
knows it was not through any false pride that I
forbore from the mention of the circumstance : it
was simply diffidence on my part — or rather it was
a desire to avoid announcing a fact which would
have been tantamount to a boast of whatsoever
honourable and good there might have been in the
action which I had performed in respect to that
deceased parent's liabilities. These were my mo-
tives for keeping the matter a secret — or rather for
abstaining from making a parade of the incidents
I have been relating to you. Thus, as time wore
on, and no one had ever thought of inquiring rela-
tive to my parentage or to the origin of the com-
petency which I possess, I found myself rapidly
increasing the circle of my friends until the doors
of all the first houses in Eome were open for my
admission. Amongst the families with whom I
thus became acquainted, was that of the Count of
Tivoli. I am now speaking of exactly two years
ago : at that period the Viscount of Tivoli was
eighteen — and the Count's daughter Antonia was
sixteen."

Francesco Avellino became deeply agitated as he
thus mentioned Antonia's name — a name which I
now heard for the first time; and I longed to ask
whether the young lady yet lived .?— but I thought
I had better restrain my curiosity and sufier my
companion to piirsue his narrative in his own way.
It was however some minutes before he could so
far conquer his emotions as to be enabled to resume
the thread cf his history ; and before he did so he
took my hand, and pressed it, at the same time
bending upon me a look of deep pathetic meaning,
as mucti as to implore me to make allowances for
whatsoever weakness he might thus display.

"Yes," he continued, "exactly two years have
passed since I was first introduced to the Tivoli

palace. The Count received me with an urbane
courtesy : for it was a nobleman of hi^h rank who
presented me on the occasion. The Count had
not then that somewhat frigid seriousness of look
and manner which, as I learnt, has of late marked
him; and of all the Eoman aristocracy no one was
perhaps more affable or more hospitable in doing
the honours of his dwelling than his lordship.
The Viscount was what may be termed a preco-
cious boy — vain, self-sufficient, and conceited — yet
having borrowed by reflection, or having caught
as it were just a sufficiency of his father's patrician
dignity, to save himself from being thoroughly
contemptible. I know not how it was, but I per-
ceived at a glance that the Viscount entertained
for me an aversion on the very first evening of our
acquaintance : he looked upon me as if I were one
who was eclipsing him in respect to the degree of
attention received from the gay assemblage
generally — though heaven knows that I never
obtrusively thrust myself forward to court special
notice or to become a prominent character in the
scene. And now I must; speak of Antonia. To
her also was I for the first time presented on that
particular evening of which I am speaking ; and
not to feel at once impressed with her ravishing
beauty, would have been to prove unsusceptible of
all that was best calculated to charm and to fasci-
nate. You have never seen her, my dear Wilmot ;
and I dare not trust myself to a description of
the style of her loveliness. I feel that if I were
to enter upon such verbal delineation, the power of
language would be insufficient to do justice to the
subject, and I should be overwhelmed likewise by
my emotions. Let it suffice therefore for you to
learn that this charming creature of sixteen at
once became the object of feelings on my part
which I had never known before. If jou ask
me whether I loved her at first sight, I think that
my response ought to be given in the affirmative :
a spell appeared to affix itself upon my heart — a
soft ineffable influence crept deliciously into my
soul — her voice was the sweetest music ever wafted
to my ears — her look seemed to open to my con-
templation a paradise of feeling the existence of
which in this world I had never suspected. Oh !
if in consequence of the fall of our first parents,
love were the lost Eden of the soul, heaven gave it
back again to a human heart at length — and
that heart was mine ! Weeks passed away ; and
I was a frequent visitor at the Tivoli palace.
The Count of Livorno was at the time staying at
Eome : he likewise was a constant visitor there ;
and it was at that manion I formed his acquaint-
ance. I almost blush to confess that when I be-
held him so frequently within the walls of the
Tivoli palace, I trembled lest he likewise should
have surrendered up his heart at the shrine of
love, and that Antonia was the goddess of his
worship : but nevertheless I vowed that if it were
60, no selfish feeling of jealousy should on my part
chill that friendship which was rapidly springing
up between the Count of Livorno and myself.
However, in the course of time I was convinced
that in the Grand Duke of Tuscany's nephew I
possessed a sincere friend but no rival; and I was
equally certain that I was not an object of indif-
fererifce to the beautiful Antonia. You are already
aware that I have a taste for painting ; and the
Count of Tivoli is a great admirer of the fine arts.

1

JOSEPH WIL^rOT ; OB, TUB MITJOIES OF A MiX-SEHVAXT.

his daughter ; but methought that as she was so ■
young, it were only delicate and prudent to sufler
time to pass on before taking any positive step.
I knew that she loved me ; and that was sufficient.
Besides, the dream itself was so delicious that I
would not disturb it in any way; and I believe
that I could have lived whole years as well as
months in that paradise of feelings which I en-
joyed. You may comprehend therefore how
etherialized was the love which I cherished for
Antonia — how high above the grossness of mere
passion. I adored her as if she were an angel,
and seemed not to covet the possession of her as a
being of this world. When away from her, my
mental vision was constantly riveted upon her
image. But you will perhaps be surprised when
I tell you that at that time I never sought to
transfer it to canvass. No — it appeared to me as
if an attempt on my part to create an inanimate
representation of that animate beauty, would so
completely fall short of the measure of justice due
to the loveliness of the original, that I dared not
enter upon such a task. ilethought then that
it would be au almost impious daring to attempt
to depict with earthly materials that angelic
countenance which reflected the beauty of heaven ;
and that only the boldest hardihood could essay
to make the canvass reflect the sunny light which
beamed in Antonia's eyes, or delineate the angelic
sweetness of Antonia's smile. From all that I
am now saying, you may perhaps obtain a further
insight to the etherial — the aesthetic — the subli-
mated nature of my love for the Count of Tivoli's
daughter."

" Yes, I comprehend it," I answered, in a low
voice : for Avellino's description had given me a
fuller understanding than ever I had before expe-
rienced of that love which I bore for Annabel, and
which was so difierent — Oh ! so diflferent from the
insensate and transient passion with which the un-
fortunate Lady Calanthe had at one time inspired
me.

'•' After having remained some months at Eome,"
resumed Francesco Avellino, " the Duke of Tus-
cany's nephew took his departure ; but before we
separated, we exchanged assurances of the warmest
friendship : for there was much in our dispositions
that assimilated! — much Ukewise in our tastes and
in the tone of our intellects which had attracted us
towards each other. The Count of Tivoli missed
him much : and I became a more frequent visitor
than ever at that nobleman's palace. Shortly after
Livorno's departure, the young Viscount proceeded
on a tour to Naples, whence he was to pass into
Sicily — so that his absence from home was to be of
some weeks' duration. I now saw more of An-
tonia than I had previously done ; and the Count
of Tivoli, as I have just said, encouraged my visits
to his mansion. It frequently occurred that I
found myself alone with his daughter ; and on one
of those occasions I breathed to her an avowal of
my love. Need I add that it was reciprocated ?
Oh ! at this instant every detail of that delicious
scene is as vividly present to my memory as if it
had occurred but yesterday. We were walking
together id the spacious garden attached to
the Tivoli palace ; it was a serene and beautiful
evening— the suu was sinking into the western
horizon— the over-arching canopy of foliage shut
out its fading beams — the atmosphere was fra

He is fond of contemplating the splendid pictures
which lie himself possesses ; and it was a source of
gratification to him to get me for an hour in the
gallery to discuss the merits of the specimens
which he has accumulated there. The Count of
Livomo was often wont to join us ; and I believe
that from those intellectual conversations I rose
considerably in the esteem of Antonia's father. He
often endeavoured to induce his son to make one
of the party, so that the young Viscount might
profit by the discourse which we held together :
but he infinitely preferred the billiard-table in the
day.time, and the haunts of pleasure in the even-
ing. I had perceived on several occasions that the
Viscount was becoming dissipated; and that al-
though scarcely beyond the sphere of boyhood, he
was acquiring an attachment to wine. The father
beheld it not — or perhaps he strove to blind his
eyes to the conviction of his son's failings. I did
not choose to speak to the parent on the subject ;
but I nevertheless considered it a deploraljle cir-
cumstance that the young man should be thus
losing himself for want of perhaps a little timely
advice ; and I resolved to take an opportunity of
acting a friendly part towards him. I thought
that one who was only about four years older than
himself, might with greater facility warn him
against evil companions, by representing that they
only sought his society for what they could get out
of him, — than if he were to receive a long lesson
from the lips of his father. I therefore spoke to
the young Viscount one day, with that frank in-
genuousness and free ofi'-haud manner which one
young man may adopt towards another : but the
Viscount insolently bade me look to my own
affairs and trouble myself not with his pro-
ceedings. I saw that from this moment I had
made a mortal enemy of the Viscount, and that
the dislike with which he had hitherto regarded
me was all in an instant enhanced into a malig-
nant hatred. Still he displayed it not openly : for
I stood too highly in his father's estimation to be
easily damaged without some powerful cause."

" I must confess," I here interjectingly ob-
served, " that there was something in the Vis-
count's maimer which I myself did not like at the
very first moment of our acquaintance. I am not
therefore much astonished to hear that his dis-
position has so little real manliness or amiability
in it."

"Heaven is my witaiesg," continued Avellino,
" that I do not now speak of him in these terms
through any rancorous feeling for what has oc-
curred : but it is necessary for the full under-
standing of my narrative that I should thus allude
to incidents which otherwise might seem trivial or
that it would be ungenerous to mention. There-
fore I must proceed to inform you that whenever
the young Viscount had an opportunity of pri-
vately demonstrating his spite towards me, he
never failed to make use of it ; and his malignity
was no doubt aggravated by the dignified indiffer-
ence with which I treated those evidences of his
hatred. Months passed away — no avowal of love
had issued from my lips — but I was happy in the
conviction that Antonia reciprocated the feeling
which I experienced towards her. I was fearful
of being too marked in my attentions: — not that
I ever seriously deliberated with myself whether
the Count of Tivoli would refuse me the hand of

JOSEPH WllMOT; OE, THE MBMOIES OF A MAN-SEHVANT.

grant with tlie perfume of flowers — a deep still-
ness prevailed : it was the mystic and the tender
hour for such a scene as that. Though the convic-
tion was previously strong in myheart that Antonia
loved me, — yet when I received the avowal from
her lips, I felt as if I could literally have cried out
for very joy ; and throwing myself at her feet, I
pressed her hand to my lips, calling heaven to wit-
ness the sincerity of the vow which I then pledged,
to the effect that never by word nor deed would I
wound the heart which had sent up the softly mur-
mured confession of love that had just fallen from
her lips. It was the happiest hour that I had ever
in my life yet known— although I had previously
passed many and many a happy one in the society
of Antonia. I remember that when I returned
home, I sate myself down upon this very sofa, and
asked myself whether it could all possibly be true,
or whether I was wrapt in a delicious dream that
was to be followed by the awakening of blank dis-
70.

appointment ? I mistrusted my own happiness :
I could scarcely bring myself to believe that I was
so ineffably blest as to own the love of that bright
and beautiful being. I recollect too, that I sate
here totally immoveable for upwards of an hour,—
afraid to make the slightest motion— afraid to look
around me — or even breathe too hard, lest I should
dispel the elysian dream in which I was cradled.
At length— when aroused from this delicious
reverie, and convinced that it was all true, qnd
that I was abandoning myself to no illusion — I
knelt down and returned thanks to heaven for
having bestowed so much happiness upon me.
There was an enthusiastic fervour in my thoughts
which I can only comprehend for myself, but can-
not find language wherewith to convey it to the
understanding of another. Not for a single in-
stant was my bliss alloyed or marred by the
thought that my fervid aspirations were doomed
to disappointment, and that my exalted hopes

138

JOSEPH 'WILMOT; OE, THE MEilOIES OF A MAN-SEETAHT.

And yet it lias

were to be cruelly blighted
been so!"

Francesco shaded his brow with his hand ; and
half averting his countenance, remained silent for
more than a minute— during which I contem.
plated him with a feeling of the deepest and
mournfuUest compassion. And, Oh ! I thought to
myself, if my aspirations were doomed to disap-
pointment—if my hopes were destined to be
blighted — what misery, what ineffable misery
would remain in store for me ! I shuddered as
these reflections swept through my imagination ;
and it was a relief to my mind — an escape from
an almost excruciating apprehension — when Fran-
cesco Avellino resumed his narrative in the follow-
ing terms : — ■

'• Two or three weeks passed after that mutual
avowal of love which had infused so ineffable a
bliss into my soul — and every day did I pass some
hours with Antonia. I had now known her a year:
she was seventeen — and I no longer saw any reason
to prevent me from speaking to her father upon
the subject that was nearest and dearest to my
heart. I informed her that it was now my wish
to communicate the secret of our love to the Count
of Tivoli — if a secret it indeed were to him.
With a blush upon the cheeks, and with downcast
looks, Antonia breathed a bashful assent; and
when she retired to her own chamber, I sought the
Count of Tivoli in the drawing-room. I found
him alone there : he welcomed me with his accus-
tomed kindness indeed, methought there was

something more than usually kind in his manner ;
and I was therefore encouraged to unbosom myself
to Antonia's father. I stated that I had loved her
from the first moment of our acquaintance — that
on account of her youthfulness I had suffered
a year to elapse before I had avowed my
attachment — that I had only recently given verbal
expression to that feeling which had so long occu-
pied my heart — that it was reciprocated — and that
I had now come to beseech the paternal sanction to
that engagement in which the happiness of us both
was so completely wrapped up. The Count of
Tivoli listened to me with a benevolent attention ;
and when I had finished, he took me by the hand,
saying, ' My dear Francesco, I could not wish my
daughter's happiness to be entrusted to better
keeping than your own. But before I can venture
to give you a response that is sacredly positive,
there is one little formality to be fulfilled. Do not,
my dear friend, let your heart suddenly sink within
you — as I see by your looks that it has done : it is
only a formality — and I will explain it. Perhaps
you are aware that Cardinal Antonio G-ravina is
my daughter's godfather : he is exceedingly rich —
and be has more than once given me to
understand that all his wealth will devolve
at .his death to the possession of Antonia.
Under these circumstances the Cardinal has a
right to be consulted; and I must therefore
Kpeak to him. You see it is a mere formality : he
will not disapprove where I approve. I have no
doubt that his assent will be readily given when
he listens to the representations that I shall make
concerning you. His Eminence is at present
absent from Eome : but he will return in a few
days — and I will take the earliest opportunity to
lay the matter before him. Meanwhile, as I am
confident what the result will be, make your mind

easy, and visit at the house as usual.' — Thus spoke
the Count of Tivoli ; and I was completely re-
assured in respect to any transient misgiving
which I had experienced."

Avellino paused, but only for a few moments ;
and then he said, " You may possibly be enabled
to conceive, my dear AYilmot, the full amount of
that happiness which was mine during the next
few days. Antonia's father had accepted my suit :
not a syllable had been uttered in respect to con-
sulting the young Yiscount ; and it appeared that
the reference which had to be made to Cardinal
Antonio Gravina was a mere matter of form,
there being no doubt as to the response that he
would give. I passed hours and hours with
Antonia : I became as iatimately acquainted with
her disposition as I know mine own : she was all
artlessness, amiability, and unsophisticated good-
ness. She loved me deeply— fondly ; and I felt
that to possess such a being as my wife, would be
to render this earth a perfect paradise in my esti-
mation. But let me not extend my narrative to
an unnecessary length : I now approach the fatal
catastrophe. There was to be a grand procession
of the clergy to St. Peter's cathedral, where his
Holiness the Pope was to officiate in the pulpit on
the occasion. The Count of Tivoli, who in the
meanwhile had written to Cardinal Gravina, re-
ceived a letter to the effect that his Eminence pur-
posed to be at Home for the procession, and that
he would dine at the Tivoli palace in the evening.
The Count invited me to dine there likewise, so
that I might be introduced to the Cardinal, with
whom I was previously unacquainted. The day
came : I pass over all mention of the grand cere-
mony, except to state that I accompanied the
Count and his daughter thither. When it was
over, I returned home to change my toilet; and
at the appointed hour I proceeded to the Tivoli
palace. I knew that this was the evening which
would decide my fate ; and yet I felt not as if it
hung in the balance at all. A certain fluttering
of the heart I perhaps did experience : but it
was rather that of joy at the anticipation of
the final assent, than that of suspense as to what
the result would be. I was happy even beyond
the strongest hopefulness — because the term hope
itself implies uncertainty and doubt; whereas I
entertained the conviction that all would be pros-
perous. In this excellent frame of mind, I reached
the palatial mansion, and was introduced to the
drawing-room, where Cardinal Gravina, who had
already arrived, was seated with the Count and
Antonia. I had already seen his Eminence at the
cathedral — but not sufficiently near to judge of the
aspect of his countenance. I now found that it
was grave and sedate — somewhat expressive of
pride — but not without a tincture of benevolence.
He was far advanced in years — probably approach-
ing his eightieth ; but still in the enjoyment of
good health, and of the full vigour of his intellects.
When the Count presented me, the Cardinal gave
me a kind reception; and in a few minuteg I
began to think that the expression of benevolence
transcended that of pride in the contexture of his
looks. Dinner was speedily announced as being
served up; and we proceeded to the banqueting-
room. There were no other guests ; and we four
sate down to table, — I being placed next to Anto-
nia. In my own mind I conceived that all that I

JOSEPH WILMOT; OE, THE MEMOrRS OP A MAN-SEEVAIIT.

13!

cared about was as good as accomplished ; for the
Cardinal treated me with the kind familiarity
which might be shown to one who was about to
enter the family in which he was so deeply in-
terested. I however saw that his Eminence exer-
cised the greatest influence over the Count of
TiToli, — which somewhat surprised me, inasmuch
as I knew the Count to be a strong-minded man,
and though religious, yet without fanaticism or
superstitious bigotry. However, I entertained not
the slightest misgiving : I even conceived it most
probable that the Count had already conversed
with the Cardinal on the one all-important topic,
and that the assent had most likely been uttered
£rom the lips of Antonia's wealthy and influential
godfather."

Avellino heaved a profound sigh — paused for a
few moments — and then continued as follows : —

'•' Shortly after the dessert had been placed upon
the table, the Connt of Tivoli made a sign for his
daughter to withdraw ; and when she had quitted
the room, I thought to myself, ' The favourable
decision is now to be formally announced to me !'
—Nor was I mistaken : for the Count of Tivoli
began to address me in the following terms : — ' In
pursuance, my dear Francesco, of the promise I
gave I have taken the earliest opportunity of re-
spectfully soliciting the sanction of his Eminence
to your alliance with his god-daughter. I have
represented to his Eminence that you are a young
gentleman of unimpeachable character, moving in
the best society, and therefore as a matter of course
belonging to a famUy the pure blood and gentility
of which enabled you to assume that position
when entering upon life.' — At the very moment
that the Count of Tivoli spoke the words pure
blood and gentility, I started, and the coldness of
an evil presentiment came quick upon me — not so
much on account of the words themselves, but be-
cause the door opened gently at the instant, and
Antonia's brother appeared upon the threshold.
The proceedings which so nearly concerned myself,
were temporarily interrupted while the father
greeted his son, and the latter paid his respects to
the Cardinal. There was something so unex-
pected in the Viscount's return — something so
strange in his appearance at the very instant
■when a matter involving my life's happiness was
on the tapis — that I was smitten with the cold
presentiment to which I have just now alluded.
Methought likewise that as the young Viscount —
■whose entrance was for a few moments perceived
only by myself — paused on the threshold to catch
the words that his father was uttering, a smile of
malignity appeared upon his features ; and my
heart sank within me. Then too, when he had
embraced his father and paid his respects to the
Cardinal, he bent upon me a cold haughty stare,
without even so much as acknowledging my salu-
tation.— ' What !' said his father, ' do you not shake
hands with Signer Avellino, whom you will shortly
hail as a brother-in-law ?' — ' I met Antonia on the
stairs,' replied the Viscount, 'and my astonish-
ment was only equal to the bashful artlessness with
which she threw herself into my arms and told me
to what length things had gone in my absence.' —
The Count looked indignant, the Cardinal was sur-
prised, and I felt most wretchedly uneasy. —
' I thought, father,' continued the Viscount, ' that
you would never bestow the hand of your daugh-

ter upon any one who is not of genteel birth. I
have recently voyaged from Sicily to Civita Vec-
chia ; and at this seaport accident made mo ac-
quainted with something that it is now mosi
opportune to name. But perhaps this person
here' (and with an insolent look he indicated me)
' will be pleased to tell us whether or not he is the
son of the bankrupt merchant of Civita Veccbia
who died defrauding his creditors to a large
amount?' — 'Yes, my lord,' I exclaimed, springing
up from my seat, and my countenance glowing with
indignation, ' I am the son of the deceased mer-
chant of Civita Vecchia; and instead of possessing
a mere competency, I should be rich were it not
that from my own resources I liquidated all my
unfortunate father's debts to the uttermost far-
thing.'— ' You see,' said the Viscount, super-
ciliously tossing his head, 'that he admits his
plebeian origin ; and it is equally evident that behad
not the candour to tell either his Eminence or your
lordship who and what he is.' — Severe and stern
was the look which the Count of Tivoli bent upon
me ; and I besought permission to enter into the
fullest explanations. He said that there could be
none to give — that he had heard sufficient to make
him deeply regret having encouraged my visits to the
house — and that he should even speak in stronger
language, were it not that he considered himself in a
measure to blame for having neglected to make the
minutest inquiries concerning me on the day that
I sought the hand of his daughter. Having thus
spoken, he requested me to retire and leave the
house. I was goaded almost to madness — I in-
sisted upon being heard : the Count rejoined that
I had been guilty of so total a want of candour
in respect to the past that it was impossible he
could trust to my frankness for the present. I
became fearfully excited ; and I have no doubt
that I used intemperate expressions — to the eflect
that with all my plebeian blood, I held myself
equal to the malignant coward who had come with
so devilish a pleasure to vent his hatred upon me.
Then the Count of Tivoli himself grew excited
with passion ; and he denounced me as an impos-
tor who by some false or insidious means had
worked my way into that society which stamped
me with a seeming gentility to which in reality I
had no claim. The young Viscount, under pre-
tence of taking his father's side, covered me with
abuse — levelled at me the bitterest taunts— and
poured upon me the most poignant revilings.
There was a moment when my hand was raised to
strike him down: but I recollected that he was
Antonia's brother — and with that thought the blow
was stayed. The Cardinal now interfered, and ob-
served that if I possessed any feehngs of honour
and delicacy I would no longerobtrude myself where
my presence was disagreeable. I cannot recollect
anything that followed — I know not how I rushed
from the mansion — there was an interval of wild
madness — and when my thoughts began to grow
somewhat collected, I found myself lying upon this
sofa — sobbing, beating my breast, tearing my hair,
and giving vent to the fearful frenzy of my
grief."

Again did Francesco pause ; and I was moved
almost to tears by that portion of the narrative to
which I had just been listening with the deepest-
tensest interest. For several minutes he was so
agitated and excited by the recollections thus

140

JOSEPH WILMOTj OB, THE MEM0IE3 OF A MAN-SERTAKT.

vividly conjured up in his brain, that he could not
resume his history : but at length conquering his
emotions with a powerful effort, he continued in
these terms : —

" Language, my dear Wilmofc, is utterly incom-
petent to convey an idea of the desperate state of
my mind, when my thoughts, beginning to collect
themselves, showed me the frightful reality of all
that had been previously haunting me like a night-
mare. I felt that Antonia was lost to me for ever,
if our union depended upon her father's consent.
This was alone sufEcient to drive me to despair :
but in addition thereto, I had been covered with
insults — denounced as a cheat and an impostor-
accused of having passed myself off as a gentle-
man of good family, whereas a plebeian puddle
filled my veins ; and I had been thrust as it were
like a felon from the threshold of the Tivoli palace.
These insults I could not avenge. It was impossible
to challenge Antonia's father or brother to a duel,
because such a course would have displayed heart-
lessness in respect to her own feelings. Besides,
they might shelter themselves behind that privi-
lege which exempts patricians from crossing
swords with plebeians. The insults ' I had
received therefore must be endured : but at least,
I thought within myself, the conduct of the Count
and his son released me from any necessity to stand
upon punctilious measures in respect to whatsoever
regarded the accomplishment of my own happiness.
I knew that Antonia loved me so fondly and de-
votedly that she would sympathise deeply with me
under existing circumstances ; and that she would
not refuse to fly with me, that the blessing of the
priest might join our hands with indissoluble
bonds. These reflections inspired me some-
what with hope ; and throughout the night which
followed that terrible explosion at the Tivoli palace,
I paced this room, meditating and settling my
plans. When day came and I looked at myself in
the mirror, I felt terrified by the ghastliness of my
countenance: but. Oh! my feelings had been
worked up to such an excruciating degree of tense-
ness, that it was a wonder I had not gone
raving mad. I waited at home the whole of that
day ; and when dusk came, I mufiied myself in an
ample cloak, and repaired into the neighbourhood
of the Tivoli palace. I had not waited long before
I encountered the very domestic of the household
on whom I had already set my mind as the agent
to be employed for the purpose which I had in
hand. He was a footman who had always treated
me with the most assiduous attention, and on
whom I had therefore bestowed liberal gratuities :
his sister was the principal female-attendant about
the person of Antonia. This man readily con-
sented to convey, through the medium of his
sister, a note to the Count's daughter. I had
already written it ; and I remained waiting in the
neighbourhood for the response. In an hour the
answer was brought : it was full of tenderness,
and love, and grief ; and I saw that I had not mis-
calculated the strength of Antonia's affection.
The means of corresponding were now established ;
and in a second letter, received on the ensuing
evening, I learnt that all her movements were as
closely watched as they could be, by her father and
brother. However, my plan for herescape was already
arranged and settled in my mind : I promised to
t!\ke the lacquey and his sister into my service

if they would assist me — and an assent was
given. The footman undertook to procure tha
keys affording egress from the back part of the
premises; and another exchange of notes with
my beloved Antonia gave me the joyous
assurance that she would fly with me. Ac-
cordingly, on the ensuing night, between twelve
and one o'clock, I had a post-chaise and four in
readiness near the gate of the garden-wall at the
back of the Tivoli palace ; and you may easily con-
ceive the intense anxiety with which I awaited
the instant that, as I hoped, was to give Antonia
to my arms. It was arranged that the lacquey
and his sister were to fly with us : we were to
journey across the Roman frontier into the Tuscan
States— a few hours would take us thither — a priest
would quickly unite us — and then it was my pur-
pose to bespeak the good offices of the Count of
Livorno to effect a reconciliation with Antonia's
father. But, alas ! fortune was altogether adverse
to my hopes and views. "While waiting with
feverish suspense near the garden-gate, a voice
from the other side of the wall suddenly reached
my ear : it was that of the lacquey, saying, ' Are
you there, Signor Avellino ?' — ' Yes, yes,' I replied,
a prey to the wildest suspense. — 'Then hasten
away, for all is discovered ! everything is known !
but it was no fault of ours ! For heaven's sake
depart 1' — I called out to the man ; but no voice
responded to my entreaty that he would give me
the least word of explanation : I therefore knew
that he must have fled away from the spot on the
opposite side of the garden-wall. I dismissed the
equipage and returned home half distracted. On
the following day, between two and three o'clock
in the afternoon, the lacquey came to me here, at
my own house ; and then I learnt what had oc-
curred. Antonia and her maid were ready dressed
for flight — the lacquey had obtained possession of
the requisite keys, and was waiting in his own
room until his sister came to give him the signal
that Antonia was in readiness : the young woman
came accordingly — the lacquey crept down stairs
to get the door open — but while tarrying there for
a few moments, he suddenly caught the young
Viscount's voice upon the landing above, upbraid-
ing Antonia for her evident intention to take to
flight : the next instant the voice of the Count
himself was heard — and the lacquey, faithful to
my interests, rushed across the garden to give me
the announcement that all was discovered and all
was lost. — ' The first thing this morning,' added
the lacquey, ' Cardinal Gravina came to the Tivoli
palace; and for more than two hours did he re-
main in consultation with the Count. Then the
Lady Antonia was desired to proceed into their
presence : I know not what took place ; but shortly
afterwards the carriage was ordered, and the Lady
Antonia went away in company with his Eminence
the Cardinal.' — 'But where? whither?' I ex-
claimed, almost wild with despair and grief. — ' Ah,
signor, I know not,' responded the lacquey : ' at
least, all I know is, that the carriage proceeded to
the Cardinal's palace; and there the Count's
coachman and footman in attendance resigned
their places to two domestics of his Eminence, the
carriage immediately driving away again. But
where it has gone, I am utterly unable to say.' — I
was for some moments in such a frenzied state of
mind that I could not question the lacquey farther:

JOSEVH WILMOT ; OE, THE MEMOIES O? A MA:N'-3ERyA>'T.

Ill

but presently subduing the violence of my grief as
well as I was able, I asked bim whether be saw
Antonia depart ? — 'Yes, signer,' he replied; 'but
I could not discern her ladyship's countenance
through the veil which she wore. She leant upon
the arm of the Cardinal, who appeared to address
her in soothing whispers. I fear, signer, by all
appearances, that her ladyship was very, very
unhappy !' — ' My God, and she is thus taken from
me !' I exclaimed, feeUng as if I must lay violent
hands upon myself. — The lacquey besought me to
be calm ; and he went on to say, ' "When her lady-
ship was gone, the Count sent for me and my sister
into his presence, told us that he had no doubt
as to our complicity in the intended flight, but
added that he purposed to forgive us on condition
that we mentioned the circumstances to no one.
"We of course promised obedience to the injunc-
tion, but I did not the less take the first oppor-
tunity to run off to you, signer, to tell you all
these things.' — I thanked the man, and liberally
rewarded him. Hastily dismissing him, I went
forth with madness in my brain to make all pos-
sible inquiries, with the last desperate hope of
ascertaining in which direction Cardinal Gravina
had taken off Antonia in the carriage. I sped to
the Gravina palace — I lavished gold upon the
porter and the lacqueys : but all to no effect ! Ko
one had heard the Cardinal give any instructions
to his coachman : no one could surmise the desti-
nation of the equipage. I wandered about, asking
everywhere if such an equipage had been seen to
pass : but hours went by, and I obtained not the
slightest clue to that which I sought to discover.
I returned home with anguish in my heart and
frenzy in my brain : a letter was awaiting me — it
was from the Count of Tivoli. I tore it open : its
contents were laconic and cold. They were simply
to the effect that my most audacious endeavour to
carry off the Lady Antonia had been discovered —
that in consequence of my machinations it had
been deemed advisable to send the young lady
away to some relations in a foreign and distant
country — and that previous to her departure she
had acknowledged her disobedience to her sire,
and had besought his forgiveness. The letter con-
cluded by observing that if I possessed a spark of
honour I would abstain from giving publicity to
whatsoever related to an episode in which the
TivoU family was concerned. 'Now, my dear
"Wilmot, you know all. A year has elapsed since
Antonia was lost to me ; and never since have I
seen her — never since have I heard of her. I am
still in the completest ignorance of the place to
which she was consigned : the family to whose
care she was confided, may live, for aught I know,
amidst the smiling districts of France, or amidst
the wildest steppes of Eussia. Yes — for thus long
she has been lost to me : but her image — that
beloved and cherished image — dwells in my me-
mory : for in respect to her that memory of mine
is immortal ! But it does more than dwell in my

memory ; I have transferred it to canvass "

"Ah!" I ejaculated, in the hope that Francesco
Avellino would show me the representative of the
idol of his heart's worship. " But methought

that you had scruples on this point "

""Tes — when she was still at her father's house,
and when I could see her daUy," answered Avel-
lino, in a voice of profoundest melancholy. " But

when she was gone — after we were so cruelly
severed — and when in the course of weeks and
months my mind began to recover somewhat from
the dreadful shock which it had sustained,— ^7je»
methought it would prove a melancholy pleasure
to exercise whatsoever little artistic ability I may
possess, in depicting upon canvass that image
which was so indelibly impressed upon my mind.
I have worked at it, "Wilmot, with the most pains-
taking attention : it has indeed proved to me a
labour of love ; and under this influence I have
accomplished something which, poor as a specimen
of art though it may be, is neverless a masterpiece
of my ability ; and I could not have achieved it
half so well if it had been a task for which the
whole wealth of the Indies were to be received as
the price. And as I have progressed with that
labour of love of mine, I have felt the mysterious
influence of hope occasionally stealing in unto my
soul : for I have said to myself that her love is as
constant and as imperishable as my own — and
that if heaven spares her life, and mine also, there
may yet a brighter day arise to smile in happiness
upon the union of two fond hearts. But there
are other times, "Wilmot," added Avellino, in a low
deep voice, " when my soul abandons itself to de-
spair, and when it appears to me as if the re-
mainder of my existence is doomed to continue a sor-
rowful void — for that Antonia is lost to me for ever !"
" No, no !" I exclaimed : " no, no, my dear
friend ! do not abandon yourself to despair. Love
itself is hope ; and heaven will not punish you so
cruelly — you, who have done naught but good
deeds in your life ! The afilictions we experience
are often intended only to chasten us, and prepare
us for the better appreciation of that happiness
which we covet. These chastenings are therefore
in themselves only temporary — the happiness comes
at last — and the wise purposes of heaven are ful-
filled."

Avellino listened to me with amazement and
solemn attention ; and pressing my hand, he said,
" You have indeed infused hope into my soul. Yet
how is it to be fulfilled ? It is true that I do not
believe — I never have believed, that Antonia re-
canted to her father a single syllable of the love-
vows she had pledged to me But again I ask,

how is hope to be fulfilled ?"

" To ask such a question," I rejoined, " is to ex-
pect that heaven will inspire you with the power
of penetrating into that which is to remain inscru-
table until its own good time shall come. Reflect
for a moment, my dear friend — and your memory
wiU doubtless furnish you with sufficient corrobora-
tions of what I am about to say. How often hava
incidents which at the time appeared the meanest
and the most trivial, been subsequently found to
convert themselves into a train of circumstances
the development of which in such a form was little
expected. Yet those very incidents which seemed
so insignificant at the time of their occurrence, and
which subsequent events proved to be of such
vital importance, all entered into the methods by
which heaven was working out its mysterious
ways. If your love may appear hopeless to-
day and enveloped in darkest clouds, the sunshine
may be upon it to-morrow ; and your heart may
yet rejoice. Do not despair therefore — have con-
fidence in heaven — and believe that love itself is
hope and faith !"

142

JOSEPH •WILMOT; OB, THE MEMOIRS OF A MATST-SESVANT.

"You speak, Wilmot, with an experience far
beyond your years," replied Avelliuo, evidently,
solaced and cheered by the words I had just been
addressing to him. " Ah, I comprehend !" he
added, as a light appeared to flash in unto his mind :
" you yourself have loved — your own love was at
first unfavoured — you had faith and hope — and now
you possess the confidence that this trusting reli-
ance of your's will be rewarded ?"

" Yes — I have loved — I love — and I do indeed
cling in confidence to the hope that heaven will not
desert me. On another occasion, Avellino, I will
tell you the history of my life ; and you will see
how wonderfully it has been chequered — you will
see likewise how miraculously, as the world tei-ms
it, succour has been vouchsafed when human com-
prehension was utterly at a loss to conceive from
what quarter such aid could come. But for the
present," I added, "let us speak only of yourself
and your affairs. You have accomplished your
labour of love, you tell me "

" Yes — and some day you shall see it. But not
to-day ; my dear friend— not to-day ! — for all my
most poignant memories have been already revived
with too much keenness, and my soul can endure
no more. You will not therefore press me upon
that point ? On another occasion, with cheerful-
ness will I introduce you to my studio. But this
I may tell you— that on the day when you first
presented yourself at my dwelling, I was engaged
in putting the finishing stroke to the picture of my
beloved Antonia "

" And I interrupted you !" I exclaimed. " Oh,
if I had known upon how sacred a task I was in-
truding "

" Mention it not," interrupted Francesco. " I
bless the day when you came — I have derived com-
fort from your friendship — and the language of
hope and confidence in which you have just now
addressed me, makes my heart rejoice that I should
have poured my love-tale into your ears."

I pressed Avellino's hand,— and soon afterwards
took my leave of him : for I could only too well
imagine that after the excitement which his feel-
ings had experienced by the narration of his his-
tory, he must be desirous to remain alone with his
thoughts.

CHAPTEE CVI.

OLD ACQTTAINTANCEa.

On my way back to the hotel, I pondered deeply
everything I had just heard from Francesco's lips.
I now comprehended how immense was the distance
between the haughty Eoman aristocracy, and even
that highest trading class which wa's included in
the sphere called "plebeian." Yet, making all
possible allowances for these prejudices, and re-
membering that the Count of Tivoli had been
reared amongst them, I could not entirely blame
him for his refusal to bestow his daughter's hand
upon Francesco Avellino. But though I thus
recognised certain extenuating circumstances on
his behalf, yet on the other side how greatly should
I have admu-ed him, if rising superior to those
prejudices, he had thought only of the high moral
worth, the fine intellect, the polished manners, and

the elegant bearing of the suitor for Antonia's
hand. In respect to his son the Viscount, I now
held him in the profoundest contempt. He had
not merely shown himself proud, but also spiteful
—not merely prejudiced, but also malignant;
and he had exhibited qualities which made me
almost detest him. But what had become of An-
tonia ? to what quarter of the world had she been
consigned ? and was it on account of separation
from a dearly-loved daughter, , that her father's de-
meanour had grown so seriously pensive during the
year which had now elapsed since her removal from
the paternal home ?

It was about two o'clock in the afternoon, when
I re-entered the hotel ; and I proceeded to the
coffee-room to look at the English and French
newspapers. Just as I entered, a couple of
waiters were proceeding to a table at the further
extremity, at which two gentlemen were seated.
One of the waiters was carrying divers bottles
of Scotch ale and London porter, ample supplies
of which were kept at the establishment for those
British visitors who loved these beverages ; and
the other waiter bore a tray covered with dishes
that sent forth an inviting odour. I did not at
the first glance recognise the two guests — it was
so rapidly cursory an one : but as the foremost
waiter placed the malt liquors upon the table, I
was startled by a well-known voice saying, '•' It's
just that ; and now, Saltcoats, let's see what sort
of a tap they have at this place."

Yes : there was my old acquaintance Dominie
Clackmannan — or, I beg his pardon, Mr. Clack-
mannan of Clackmannanauchnish ; and opposite to
him sat his friend Mr. Saltnoats. The former,
though now at least sixty-five, bore his years un-
commonly well ; and in no way was he altered
since the day that I first beheld him at Inch
Methglin. His wig, of curious fashion, was of the
same flaxen tint — his countenance was broad and
round — and the double chin concealed by over-
lapping his low white cravat. He was not a
hair's-breadth thinner than when he used to feed
so copiously at the Highland Chief's tabic : that is
to say, he was as stout as ever. His look had the
same sort of stolid seriousness; and when he took
his pinch of snufi", he rolled lazily about like a
great butt in his chair. His costume was likewise
the same — clerico-scholastie — his suit being black,
the dress-coat having large square tails, the waist-
coat with capacious pockets — the knee-breeches
and black gaiters. I^or was Mr. Saltcoats any
different from what he was when I was first intro-
duced to him at the hotel in London — unless
indeed, it were that his face was of a deeper red
and that his bald crown shone with a brighter
gloss. His costume was likewise the same-
pepper and salt garments — a felt hat — a gray
neckcloth — gray stockings — gray gloves lying over
the brim of that gray hat.

" My dear sir," I exclaimed, advancing towards
Mr. Clackmannan, " I am delighted to see you !
I learnt from Sir Alexander and Lady Carrondale
that you were in Italy with Mr. Saltcoats "

" It's just that," said the Dominie, grasping my
hand with his characteristic good-nature, but
gazing upon me with a kind of stolid uncertainty
as to who I might actually be. " To be sure, my
young friend — I recollect you now — you are
Thomas Shankspindles, nephew of my old college

JOSEPH WILMOT; OE, THE MEMOIES OP A MAN-SEEVANT.

143

ehum the Laird of Tintosquashdale. And yet you
can't be, when I think of it — you must be his
uncle — you can't be his grandfather "

" Nonsense, Dominie !" exclaimed ilr. Saltcoats,
with a perfect roar of laughter. "TLis young
gentleman is not much above twenty — and you
would make him out a grandfather — Ho ! ho !"

"It's just that," said Mr. Clackmannan, taking
a huge pinch of snuff. " I recollect now — this is
the young gentleman who came to my assistance
when those ill-mannered boys tied the tin kettle
to the tail of my coat — it must have been the
tail of my coat — it could not have been my
pigtail, because I never wore one "

'• I am very much mistaken, Dominie," ex-
claimed ilr. Saltcoats, "if this young gentleman is
not the one whom I had the pleasure of meeting
at the hotel in Holborn a little more than a year
back. To be sure it is !" — and Mr. Saltcoats gave
me so hearty a shake of the hand that for the next
hour or so my wrist felt as if it were just recover-
ing from a sprain. '•' Sit down, Mr. Williams —
Wilmot Ah, that's it— Mr. Wilmot !"

" It's just that," said the Dominie — " Joshua

"Wilmot And yet it can't be Joshua — because I

never knew but one person named Joshua ; and
that was Joshua Drummaldernoeh, who was put

into the Tolbooth for sheepstealing and I

really don't think our young friend here looks as
if he ever stole a sheep. iXo — now I recollect, it
must be Joseph "Wilmot — and you helped Mjr.
Duncansby to elope with Sir Alexander Carron-
dale."

"Nonsense, Dominie!" vociferated Mr. Salt-
coats : " your ideas are all in confusion •"

"It's just that," said the Dominie; "audit's
the very thing I told the Widow Glenbucket when
she fell out of the window and the cat nearly
tumbled out after her when looking to see where
she had fallen. No — it wasn't just that — it was
the cat that fell, and the Widow Glenbucket who
was looking out of the window."

" Come, Mr. Wilmot," exclaimed Saltcoats, with
another uproarious peal of laughter, " we shall
make nothing of the Dominie with his Mr. Dun-
cansby eloping with Sir Alexander Carrondale,
when every one but his foolish old self knows that
it was the beautiful Emmeline whose flight you so
chivalrously aided. Sit down, and join us at
lunch."

" It's just that," said the Dominie : "join us at
lunch — it can't be dinner "

" But it ought to be," I observed with a smile :
" for it has all the substantialities of one."

" Dinner indeed !" vociferated Saltcoats : " it's
only a sort of stop-gap for the appetite :" — and as
he thus spoke his merry good-natured eyes wan-
dered complacently over the various substantial
and succulent dishes, as well as over the half-dozen
bottles of ale and stout, which were spread upon
the table. " Trust me, Mr. Wilmot, that when
six o'clock comes, the Dominie and I shall be as
ready for our dinner as we now are for our
lunch."

" It's just that," said Mr. Clackmannan : " as I

used to tell Sandie Macwheeble no, it couldn't

have been Sandie — it must have been my friend
Baillie Owlheadof the Gallowgate, Aberdeen, when
he used to come and dine with me at the "Widow
Glenbucket's, ia the Grassmarket, Edinburgh

But what is it that I used to tell him ? I

shall recollect presently:" — and with these words
Mr. Clackmannan conveyed to his plate halt the
contents of a dish with the nature of which he
was utterly unacq^uainted.

Yielding to Mr. Saltcoats' hospitable invitation,
I sate down at the table and made a show of
eating something, although I had but little appe-
tite ; for Francesco Avellino's tale was still upper-
most in my mind. Mr. Saltcoats was soon deep
in the incomprehensible mysteries of another dish
of Italian cookery ; and when he had partaken of
about two pounds of substantial food, he found
leisure to express his wonder what it was.

" It's just that," said the Dominie, now likewise
pausing to yield to a similar perplexity : " it can't
be haggis — and I'm sure it's not coUops — I don't
think it's Scotch broth— and they have no stewed
tripe in this strange country. It can't be a hashed
sucking-pig, because you don't find it's tail — and I
never but once knew a pig without a tail — and
that was at the Laird of Tintosquashdale's. But I
remember telling the Widow Glenbucket— it was
the very day that the domestic cat was unaccount-
atjly missed, and she gave me fricasseed rabbit for
dinner But what did I tell her ? I shall re-
collect presently:" — and the worthy Dominie,
having refreshed himself with about a pint and a
half of Scotch ale, which he drank at a draught,
began to explore the mysteries of another savoury
dish.

" How long have you been here, Mr. Wilmot ?"
inquired Salcoats. " Several days, eh ? Oh, we
have only just arrived. Have they got any port
and sherry in this hotel ?"

" You have not yet, then, visited the grand
Cathedral ?" I asked.

" No— not yet," replied Mr. Saltcoats. " But
are the beds free from bugs ?"

" You will be delighted with the ruins of the
CoUoseum," I exclaimed, with a sudden access of
enthusiasm.

" But can they at this hotel," asked Mr. Salt-
coats, " serve up an English plum-pudding ?"

"And then the picture-galleries — the museums
— the works of art !" I exclaimed, scarcely heeding
his interruption.

"Have they got such a thing as Scotch
whisky P inquired Saltcoats ; " and do they muster
a warming-pan to warm the bed of a cold
night ?"

"It's just that," said the Dominie: "the
warming-pan is indispensable. But I should like
to see the Pope — and also to taste one of their
garlic ragouts. Yes— it must be garlic that I
heard eulogised — and not onions ,• because the
breath of the French traveller who told us, smelt
so of garlic — and it put me in mind of something
I said to the Widow Glenbcuket one day when her

breath smelt of gin Ah ! I recollect, Saltcoats,

I found you with your face very close to the
widow's one day — and I couldn't make it out. I
have been thinking of it ever since— it was a
matter of twenty years ago— I suppose you were
putting your nose to her lips to see whether her
breath really did smell of gin ?"

" Something of the sort. Dominie," exclaimed
his friend, winking knowingly at me. " Come,
Mr. Wilmot, you do not eat— and you have not
yet emptied your first glass of stout. Perhaps

you will take wine ? We will ring for a bottle of
port, if they have got such a thing."

I had the greatest trouble to prevent Mr. Salt-
coats from overwhelming me with hia hospitalities ;
and I think that for a moment or two I sank
somewhat in his esteem by assuring him that I
never drank anything in the middle of the day.
But he was too good-natured to look gloomy for
many instants ; and the afiair was compromised by
my taking a bottle of soda-water with a glass of
wine in it. He was rendered quite happy so long
as I consented to drink something.

After luncheon, I was just about to offer my
services to escort Dominie Clackmannan and Mr.
Saltcoats to some of the principal buildings, — when
a French courier who travelled with them, and
who spoke English well, made his appearance to
receive their orders. I had been wondering how
they had possibly got on while travelling in foreign
countries of the languages of which they were both
supremely ignorant, — when the presence of the
courier solved the mystery ; and this human ap-
pendage they could well afford to keep, inasmuch
as the Dominie had been left tolerably well off and
Mr. Saltcoats possessed a competency of his own.
Finding therefore that they had a guide as well
as an interpreter in the shape of a French courier
— whose business it was to show them everything,
explain everything, and help them through every-
thing— I left my own proffer of service unsaid.
Indeed, I was by no means displeased at this
avoidance of the necessity of playing the amiable
towards them : for I shrewdly suspected that in-
stead of caring to see St. Peter's, they would be
much more likely to look out for something to eat
and drink— and that while gazing upon the ruins
of the Colosseum, visions of bottled ale and
stout would be running in their heads. Such com-
panions were by no means those whom I should in
preference have chosen ; and good-natured though
they were, their society for any length of time
amounted to an infliction. I therefore abandoned
them to the charge of the French courier, —
having given them a sort of half promise that I
would join them at dinner in the evening.

It was now three o'clock in the afternoon ; and
I strolled out by myself into the streets of Eome.
I had no particular object in view — I did not pur-
pose on this occasion to visit any institutions : I
therefore thought that I would si^er my steps to
guide me just as they listed, — in the same way
that a traveller indifferent as to the route he pur-
sues, throws the bridle upon the horse's neck and
allows the animal to take him into any path he
thinks fit. I wandered on through street after
street— loitering at shop-windows — pausing to
contemplate an old church or any curious specimen
of house architecture ; and thus after a while I
literally lost my way. I really did not know, when
I began to reflect on the subject, in which part of
the city I was : but I cared nothing for this, being
well aware that when I was tired I had only to
call a hackney-coach, mention the name of my
hotel, and thus be borne thither. But the streets
grew narrower and narrower; and I found that
my wandering steps were leading me farther into
a very poor quarter of the city.

As I was passing a chemist's shop in a mean and
wretched street, — the shop itself reminding me tf
that of the apothecary's in " Eomeo and Juliet "—

my ear suddenly caught the sound of the English
language, which, as well as the words which were
uttered, riveted my attention and made me stop
short.

" Well, Tom, if it is our last coin, don't let us
hesitate — let us spend it in getting the poor crea-
ture the medicine. We can starve for a day with-
out dying : but she, poor thing, must perish if no-
thing is done for her. Your wages are due the

day after to-morrow "

" Well, Jane, it shall be as you say," was the
answer given to the appealing words thus spoken.

I looked at the speakers : they consisted of a
man and woman, evidently in very humble circum-
stances,— the former having the appearance of a
journeyman-carpenter: for he _ had on a loose
flannel jacket, a paper cap, and an apron, and a
rule peeped out of his trousers'-pocket. He was
about forty years of age ; and the woman — whom
I at once took to be his wife — was about thirty-
five. Though very poorly clad, yet her attire was
neat and clean ; and her countenance, if not good-
looking, had that expression of benevolence which
is far better than mere beauty. They were just
about to enter a chemist's shop when I accosted
them, — saying, " Pardon me for interrupting you
— but I happened to overhear what just passed be-
tween you."

The man touched his cap — the woman curtsied ;
and they both seemed well pleased at thus meeting
a fellow-countryman.

" Your words have interested me," I hastened to
resume. " I have heard enough to convince me
of your kind feelings — and I hope to be permitted
not merely to recompense yourselves, but likewise
to have my share in the work of charity on which
you are evidently bent. Doubtless it is some
fellow-countrywoman who is the object of your
generous solicitude ?"

" No, sir," answered the man : " she is an
Italian."

'■But that makes no difference," hastily inter*
posed the female : " she is a fellow-creature if she
is not a fellow-countrywoman."

I gazed upon that humble mechanic's wife with
mingled admiration and emotion: indeed there
was something profoundly touching in the fact of
these sojourners in a strange land extending their
Christian charity to a native of that land, and who
was therefore an alien to their sympathies were it
not that their natural philanthropy knew no dis-
tinctions of clime or country, but was cosmopo-
litan.

" And pray who is she ?" I inquired ; then
suddenly recollecting that the case might be press-
ing, I hastened to exclaim, " We will order the
medicine first, and you shall tell me all about it
afterwards. Have you a medical prescription ?"

" Yes, sir," answered the man : " we got a
doctor to attend upon her out of charity — but the
doctors in this country don't send out medicines
as they do in England; so one has to go to the
chemist's. But here is the prescription."

I took it and entered the little shop : the apothe-
cary read it, and then spoke to me in Italian. I
had by this time gleaned a sufficiency of the lan-
guage to be enabled to tell him that I did not un-
derstand it adequately to converse, but still
enough to inquire the price of the medicine. The
journeyman-carpenter came to the assistance ot

JOSEPH WIIjMOT ; OE, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SEBVAKT.

tlie colloquy— for he could speak Italiaa tolerably
well. Tlius in a few minutes the medicine was
made up, and paid for out of my own purse — the
journeyman observing that it was very lucky I
had come up at the time, as the cost of the potion
exceeded both his own expectation and means.

We passed out of the shop ; and the carpenter
said to me, " Perhaps you will come yourself, sir,
to the place where we lodge. The poor creature is
there, in the same house ; and if it wasn't that
she had mentioned the name of some one who was
known to the landlady, I am very much afraid she
■would have been turned into the streets or sent
into the hospital directly she was seized with
illness. And the Eoman hospital, I can assure
you, sir, is little better than a lazar-house. But
here we are."

The carpenter and his wife had stopped at the
open door- way of a mean-looking house, but the
tspect of which at once struck me as not being
71.

altogether unfamiliai*. The nest instant a ten-iblo
suspicion flashed to my mind : — with lightning
speed were my looks swept up and down that
street — along the buildings to the right and the
left ; and as that suspicion became all in a moment
changed into a conviction, I said to the mechanic
and his wife, " Haste, haste — and let me see this
invalid !"

They could not comprehend my sudden excite-
ment : they did noi. however wait to question mo
— but quickly led the way along a narrow dark
stone passage, up an equally dark staircase, to the
second landing. There the woman gently opened
a door ; and as my looks plunged into a small and
meanly furnished chamber, they settled — as I had
only too fearfully expected— upon the countenance
of the young and beautiful unknown whom I had
brought with me in the post-chaise to the Eternal
City.
"Q-ood heavens 1" I murmured : " is it indeed so?"

146

JOSEPH WILMOT; OE, THE MEMOIES OF A IIAN-SEEVANT.

"Do you koow her, sir?" inquired both the
man and his wife, speaking as it were in the same
breath.

" I know something of her," I answered, —
" very, very little indeed — but still enough to aug-
ment the interest which even as a total stranger,
I should experience for one in her pitiable condi-
tion. She sleeps — I will not disturb her :" — and I
stepped back from the threshold of the room.

A few moments' reflection was sufficient to de-
cide me how to act. During all the hours that we
were together on the memorable night when I
brought her to Eome, she had enveloped herself
in mystery — she had not even mentioned to me
her name ; and when we parted it was evidently
with the idea on her side that we should not meet
again : indeed she had carefully abstained from
saying anything that should give me the least en-
couragement to inquire after her subsequent wel-
fare. It was therefore from delicate motives that
I had hitherto abstained from seeking the place
where she had alighted from the chaise ; and, as
the reader has seen, it was by the merest accident
that my wandering steps had conducted me to that
same street now. In a word, I concluded that
when once I had brought her to Eome, it was her
wish that I should see her no more ; and I was
resolved that she should not know — or at least not
immediately — who it was that was interesting
himself in her behalf. Such was the rapid con-
clusion to which I came after those few instants'
reflection upon the landing.

"Do you attend upon her, my good woman," I
said in a wbisper to the mechanic's wife: "follow
the directions which the doctor has given in respect
to the medicine— and say nothing to her of my
presence here. I am going to have some conver-
sation with your husband— and everything shall be
done that money can accomplish for the poor girl's
well-being."

There was a window upon the landing ; and I saw
that as I spoke, the carpenter and his wife sur-
veyed me with a growing suspicion, mingled with
reproachfuliiess in their looks;— and no wonder,
considering the agitation and excitement I had
displayed from the moment that they had first
brought me to the entrance of that house. I com-
prehended in an instant what was passing in their
minds; and I hastened to say, "Your misgiving is
natural enough — and I am not ofifended by it. But
as there is a God above me, I am innocent of all
wrong towards that young lady ! Indeed, I would
almost stake my existence that she has sustained
no wrong of the nature to which your suspicions
point— but that she is virtue itself!"

The countenances of the mechanic and his wife
brightened up rapidly while I was thus speaking
in a low but emphatic tone; and they both be-
sought my pardon for the temporary suspicion they
had entertained. I repeated ray former assurance
— that I considered their misgiving natural enough;
and while the woman entered the invalid's room
to administer the medicine, her husband conducted
me into their own apartment, which opened from
the same landing. It was very poorly furnished —
but everything was neat and clean ; and being in
Buch Iiumble circumstances, it was fortunate for
the couple that they possessed no children — as I
presently learnt was the case.

The journeyman-carpenter's tale in respect to

the young lady was soon told. She had arrived at
the house very early in the morning about six days
back : she had alighted from a chaise, which im-
mediately drove off. It appeared that she inquired
for an old woman whom she expected to find there :
but this woman had removed some months back to a
distant part of the country, — her services as nurse
having been engaged in some family of distinction.
The young lady was terribly afflicted on receiving
this intelligence: and she besought that she might
have a room given her, no matter how poor and
humble. She gave no name, and would answer no
questions. She was totally unknown to the land-
lady of the house : she had neither baggage nor
money: but she promised that whatever debt she
might contract, should be honourably paid. ■ The
landlady, convinced by her appearance that she
was no common adventuress, consented to give her
a lodging : but scarcely was she installed there,
when she became exceedingly ill ; and being over-
taken by fever, grew delirious. The journeyman
and his wife took compassion upon her, and ren-
dered what succour they could, — Mrs. Blanchard
(for such was the name of the worthy couple) at-
tending her almost constantly day and night. At
length, as the fever did not leave her — as she con-
tinued delirious — and there were no possible means
of discovering whether she had any family or
friends in Rome, the carpenter got a doctor to
visit her from motives of charity ; and the result
was the prescription which had just been made up.
In respect to the Blanchards themselves, the man
had been some years in Italy, to which country he
was originally brought by a London contractor who
was engaged to fit up a villa which an English noble-
man had taken in the neighbourhcod of Eome.
Blanchard had rimaiued at Eome after the con-
tract was finished, in the hope that the superior
skill of an English artisan would ensure him good
wages; and he had married a servant who was in
the household of the contractor. Things had not
however turned out as he originally hoped — work
became scarce — and its wages fell lower and lower :
so that the poor couple had no means to return to
their native land ; and they eked out an ioipo-
verished existence as well as they could. Never-
theless, even from their pittance they had gene-
rously spared something for the relief of the poor
young lady.

Having listened to Blanchard's explanations, I
volunteered none in respect to the circumstances
which had made me acquainted with the fair
stranger : but I bade him at once hasten off and
fetch the doctor, — giving him the money to pay
the fee in advance. In a few minutes he returned,
accompanied by the medical man, — who having
pocketed the fee, and knowing that it came from
my purse, was all civility and attention. I begged
him to inform me candidly what was the young
lady's precise condition : and he said that she was
in a high state of fever, no doubt brought on by
some extraordinary mental excitement — but that
with care and attention, there was every prosppct
of her recovery. I said that all such care and at-
tention should be assuredly paid her; and then I
asked whether it were safe to remove her to a
hotel, or to better lodgings. The physician re-
sponded emphatically in the negative— as indeed I
had foreseen he would. I thereupon requested
that he would devote all his time and skill to the

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OE, TDK JIEM0IE3 01? A MAN-SEETANT.

l**:

patient', — intimating that he should be liberally
rewarded : and thus our colloquy, which was car-
ried on through the medium of the intelligent
English mechanic, was brought to a conclusion.
I however saw that the doctor was inclined to put
some questions in order to gratify his curiosity
with respect to the unknown young lady : but I
exhibited an impatience which he took as a hint
that he was at once to enter upon his professional
ministrations towards her. I bade Blanchard en-
join him presently not to make any mention of me
to the young lady when she should regain her con-
sciousness : for I hinted that feelings of delicacy
would render her uncomfortable if she knew that
a young man who was almost a stranger to her was
thus making her the object of his charity. I then
sent for Mrs. Blanchard ; and placing in her hands
my purse — which was well filled— desired her to
purchase without delay all things necessary for the
comfort of the invalid. I told her even to go to
the extent of re-furnishing the room so far as was
practicable considering the dangerous state in
which the young lady lay. The reader may rest
assured that a portion of the contents of that
purse was assigned to the care of the honest me-
chanic and his wife ; and I gave them to under-
stand that I should do much more for them.
Having repeated my injunction that no allusion
was to be made to me, when the invalid should re-
cover her consciousness, I took my departure from
the house; and entering a hackney-coach, returned
to the hotel.

CHAPTER CVII.

AN EXGLISH PLUM- PUDDING.— AX EJfCOtTNTEE.

The mysterious circumstances which regarded
this young lady naturally engrossed my thoughts ;
and more than ever did I marvel who she could
be — what the nature of the place was whence she
had escaped on the night that I brought her to
Eome — who were the persecutors against whom
she complained so bitterly— and how a young
creature, evidently so well bred, of such good edu-
cation, and such elegant manners, could be reduced
to so painful a strait as this. Had she no friend
on the face of the earth ? was her sole reliance in
the fiftt instance placed upon that old nurse whom
she bad hoped to find, but who so unfortunately
for her was absent elsewhere ? And then, why that
feverish anxiety on her part to arrive at Eome ? I
reflected that she must no doubt have had some
special object in view ; and if such were the case,
it was by no means diJflBcult to understand how the
working-out of her purpose had been suddenly
stopped by this severe illness which had overtaken
her.

On alighting at the door of the hotel, I recol-
lected my promise to dine with Dominie Clack-
mannan and Air. Saltcoats : but I was really in no
humour for the tedious platitudes of the former or
the uproarious hilarity of the latter. I therefore
resolved to hasten up to my own apartment — take
my dinner by myself — and desire the waiter to
deliver on my behalf an apology to those gentle-
men. But as I was rushing up the stairs, I encoun-
tered the very personages; and Mr. Saltcoats, |

catching me by the arm, roared out, " You will
only just have time to wash your hands : for dinner
will be served up in a minute. We were really
afraid you were detained by business or pleasure
somewhere else ; and we were so sorry, for we had
set our minds upon having you."

" It's just that," observed the Dominie : "for my
friend Saltcoats here took an hour's trouble — was

it an hour, it might have been a minute But

I will think over it, and let you know presently.
And this reminds me of what I one day said to the

Widow Glenbucket "

" Ifonsense, Dominie !" interrupted Saltcoats.
" The fact is, my dear Mr. Wilmot, I have taken
some little trouble to induce the people of this
hotel to serve us up a regular English plum-
pudding. But heaven have mercy upon them in
their deplorable ignorance ! — for the cook had no
more idea of what the thing meant than the
Dominie has of telling an anecdote without inter-
rupting himself. However, the cook is a very de-
cent fellow in his way, and promised to do his best.
I had him up into my presence ; and through the
medium of our courier, explained how a plum-
pudding is to be made. I told him how ho was to
take the raisins and the currants, the citron and
the orange-peel, the sugar and the flour — and to

mix up the whole ingredients "

" It's just that," said the Dominie : " but I smell
soup."

" And here we are wasting our precious time !"
exclaimed Mr. Saltcoats. "Eun up- stairs, Mr.
Wilmot — wash your hands — and be quick ! We
dine in the coffee-room."

I could not very well refuse the invitation that
was so kindly meant; and now — by one of those
strange and capricious revulsions of feeling to
which we weak mortals are liable— I thought that
after all I would rather have society than not^
Accordingly, having hastily made some little
change in my toilet, I descended to the coffee-
room. Dinner was immediately served up ; and
notwithstanding the copiousness of their luncheon,
immense was the justice rendered by Dominie
Clackmannan and his friend Mr. Saltcoats to this
still more substantial repast. I will not attempt
to describe the conversation which progressed
simultaneously therewith : suffice it to say that
the old Dominie was, if possible, more trouble-
some and stupid with his anecdotes than ever ; and
that the remarks of Mr. Saltcoats were principally
confined to critical comments upon the viands and
the drinkables. At length the time came when
the plum-pudding was to make its appearance,
Mr. Saltcoats rubbed his hands in gleeful anticipa-
tion of the luxury for which he himself had all
the honour of catering; and the mention of the
good old English edible reminded Dominie Clack-
mannan of at least a dozen things he had said to
the Widow Glenbucket and others of his delectable
acquaintances, but none of which anecdotes was
he enabled to carry out to completion. At length,
after a somewhat prolonged delay, the waiter en-
tered with great solemnity ; and both the Dominie
and Mr. Saltcoats turned their eyes upon him.

" Halloa !" exclaimed the latter : " there must
be some mistake here !"

"It's just that," interjected the Dominie: "he
is bringing us the soup intended for another table.
And that reminds me "

148

JOSEPH WILMOTj OB, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SEEVANT.

"But perhaps," I suggested, as I now ia ray
turn cast a look at the waiter, " the cook thought
it better to servo up the pudding in a tureen."

" Well, it certainly has the orthodox odour,"
esclaimed Mr. Saltcoats, as the waiter, with all due
solemnity, placed the tureen upon the table.

The lid was lifted off — Mr. Saltcoats plunged
his looks into the tureen — and then sank back in
Lis chair with such an awful groan and such a
discomfited expression of countenance, that his
habitual jolliness could not have more suddenly
changed into downright wretchedness if the great-
est calamity had all in a moment been commu-
nicated to him. Even the Dominie looked aghast ;
and so far from recollecting an anecdote of any-
thing ho had ever said to any person of his
acquaintance, he was reminded of nothing. In
respect to myself, I burst out into an uncontrollable
fit of laughter : and no wonder — for it was a dark-
looking washy soup which was served up to us,
and with which the tureen was filled almost to its
very brim. That laughter of mine acted like a
spell upon Mr. Saltcoats, — who, suddenly regaining
his own jocularity, gave vent to a tremendous peal
of merriment, which re-acting upon Mr. Clack-
mannan, reminded him of something he had said
to the "Widow Glenbucket on some occasion when
Bhe did something which after all he could not for
the life of him recollect. All in a moment a light
broke in unto the mind of Mr. Saltcoats ; and he
remembered that though he had taken so much
pains to describe the ingredients with the nicest
details to the cook, through the medium of the in-
terpreter, he had altogether forgotten to add the im-
portant fact that the pudding was to be boiled in
a cloth. The consequence was, the cook had
poured all his ingredients into the hot water in the
saucepan, and had served up this precious mess
accordingly.

The tureen was sent away : but Mr. Clack-
mannan and his friend Saltcoats managed to
indemnify themselves for their disappointment, by
a tremendous onslaught upon other sweets and
dainties that were placed upon the table. The in-
cident gave rise to a considerable amount of
laughter : the dessert succeeded the course in
which the unfortunate tureen had figured; and
the bottle circulated freely under the auspices
of the convivial Saltcoats — though I am afraid that
I failed to do as much justice thereto as he could
have wished.

We were in the midst of the dessert, when we
heard a travelling-carriage drive into the court,
yard of the hotel; and a few minutes afterwards
one of the waiters ushered a portly dame into the
coffee-room, requesting her in French to seat her-
self by the fire there for a few minutes until
apartments were got ready for her reception. She
answered him in the broadest Scotch, — to the effect
that she did not understand his " lingo," but that
she would wait there according to the recom-
mendation her '• gude-man" had just given her.
She was a lady of about five-and-forty — exceed-
ingly stout — with a very red face — and encum-
bered with all sorts of cloaks, shawls, and furs.
Down she sate before the fire, — depositing herself
in the chair with about as much ease and lightness
as an elephant could be supposed to exhibit if per-
forming a similar feat. But when I averted my
eyes Ixom this portly dame, and happened to

glance at Dominie Clackmannan, I was suddenly
struck by his appearance. He was no longer
lolling in stupid indolence in his chair, nor gazing
stolidly upon vacancy : he was all alive with a
keen and visible excitement — and his eyes were
riveted upon the portly dame, towards whom he
seemed inclined to rush from his seat.

" What on earth is the matter with you, Domi-
nie ?" asked Mr. Saltcoats, who was as much struck
by his aspect as I myself was : then turning to
me, Saltcoats added, " I'll be bound he's thinking
of the Widow Glenbucket !"

" It's just that," exclaimed the Dominie: and
springing up from his chair with as much alacrity
as if it were an iron seat that had become sud-
denly red-hot under him, he rushed down the
room in the same singular excitement.

The next instant his arms were thrown round
the portly dame's neck — a hearty smack upon her
red cheek, bestowed by his lips, resounded through
the apartment : but, as if raising an equally
audible echo, it was immediately followed by an-
other sort of smack, which the dame bestowed on
the Dominie's face — and with this trifling differ-
ence, that whereas his was given with the lips,
hers was inflicted with the palm of her vigorous
hand. The Dominie staggered back, confounded :
the lady set up a shriek ; and at the very same
moment an elderly gentleman, as portly as herself,
entered the coffee-room. He wore a travelling
cap ; and an immense shawl, tied round his neck,
came up to his nose. He had on a great coat —
and carried under his arm a cloak, a mackintosh,
and a woollen comforter, as well as two umbrellas
— one silk and the other cotton. But the gar-
ments and the umbrellas dropped upon the floor
as the sounds of his wife's voice, expressive of
some dire tribulation, met his ears ; and the next
moment he began to spar away like clock-work at
the Dominie. Mr. Saltcoats and I rushed in to
interfere ; and while the former was assuring the
lady that there was some mistake, I was proffer-
ing a similar representation to the Scotch gen-
tleman.

"Don't mind him, ma'am," said Mr. Saltcoats :
" he's as harmless as a child "

" But he kissed me, sir !" vociferated the lady.

"Well, ma'am, and I don't think that could
have done you much harm," responded Saltcoats :
" for a handsome woman must be accustomed to
receive proofs of the admiration she excites.'*

" Weel, sir — and there's j ust something in
that," said the dame, now thinking it necessary to
simper : " so my gude-man need not fash himself.
But who could the gentleman have ta'en me for ?"

"It's just that," said the Dominie, rubbing his
cheek and displaying a most rueful expression of
countenance. " If you ain't the Widow Glen-
bucket, I never saw such a likeness ! You may

be her ghost and yet, when I think of ic, you

can't be — for there never was a ghost that dealt
such a box on the ears."

"The truth is, my dear madam," Mr. Saltcoats
hastened to observe, "my old friend is near-
sighted, and may bo a trifle owlish after his
dinner : but in his name I beg most sincerely to
apologize."

" Ye need say nae mair about it," interrupted
the dame, who was really a good-natured body :
'• there's nae such unco harm done."

JOSEPH WILjrOT; OB, THK MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT.

J49

"Well, I though not !" ejaculated Mr. Salt-
coats. " I never yet saw the lady who was killed
by a kiss."

Meanwhile I had succeeded in pacifying the in-
dignant husband : Dominie Clackmannan stam-
mered out an apology — the waiter came to an-
nounce that the apartments were in readiness for
the new-comers — they issued from the coffee-room
— and we returned to our seats— the Dominie
observing, "It's just my own stupidity : but tliat
would have been the Widow Glenbucket— only
that's she's dead."

Thus terminated an occurrence in which Mr.
Clackmannan figured as the hero ; and I soon
afterwards retired to my own apartments.

On the following day, a little before the hour of
noon, I was proceeding in the direction of the
Tivoli palace, for the purpose of availing myself of
a general permission I had received to inspect the
pictures there whenever I thought fit ; and on
turning the corner of a street, I met the Count
himself. He was on foot, and walkiflg rapidly as
if bent upon some urgent business. I raised my
hat, and was about to address him in the wonted
terms of respectful friendliness — when he suddenly
drew himself up, bent upon me a strange peculiar
look, in which haughty sternness appeared to
mingle with reproach : and then be at once pur-
sued his way. I remained riveted to the spot,
overwhelmed with mingled astonishment and con-
fusion. At length a suspicion rushed in unto my
mind : — he had doubtless discovered that my posi-
tion had recently been a menial one, and he was
indignant at having treated me on terms of
equality. This idea, which all in a moment
seemed to account for his conduct, prevented me
from running after his lordship to request an ex-
planation and ascertain whether I had offended
him. I felt deeply, deeply humiliated; and the
reader may rest assured that I did not continue
my way to the Tivoli palace. I turned off into
another direction ; and walking slowly along, en-
deavoured to cheer my spirits by saying to my-
self, " From all that I learnt through the medium
of Avellino's history, I ought to have known that
his lordship is as proud as Lucifer, and that he
would treat me thus if by accident it ever tran-
spired what my antecedents were."

But it was no easy task to recover from the
deep sense of humiliation into which the occur-
rence had thrown me; and I wandered for the
next hour about the streets of Eome, unable to
subdue the bitterness of my vexation. At length
I bethought me of visiting Signer Avellino, and
endeavouring in discourse with him to divert my
thoughts into another channel. As I was proceed-
ing in the direction of Francesco's dwelling, I be-
hold the elegant equipage of the young Viscount
of Tivoli approaching. My first impulse was to
turn aside and affect not to observe it : but all in
a moment I was inspired by a more manly feeling;
and I said to myself, " I have never done any-
thing to be ashamed of ; and if having eaten the
bread of an honest industry be accounted a stigma
and a reproach, I must endure all these huudlia-
tions — or rather I must rise above them."

I accordingly walked on ; and as the equipage
approached, I looked the Viscount steadily in the
face, — determined that if any recognition took
place between us, it should emanate in the first in-

stance from himself. The instant the young noble-
man caught sight of me, he started up from his seat
in the phaeton, as if in a furious rage— snatched
the whip from the coachman's hand — sprang
forth upon the pavement — and with the handle of
that whip dealt me a couple of blows with such
rapidity that I had not time to prevent him.

" Hypocritical scoundrel ! deceitful villain !" were
the words which at the same instant thrilled from
his lips : and his cheeks were crimson with rage.

All this was the work of a moment : but the
very next instant I tore the whip from his grasp—
seized him by the collar with my left hand — and
broke the whip over his back with three or four
smart blows dealt with the right. He flew at me
like a tiger — I flung him from me— and tossed tho
fragments of the whip contemptuously at him. He
dared not repeat the attack — he had experienced
enough of my resoluteness as well as of my supe-
rior strength— and, white with rage, he staggered
against the side of his phaeton. Several persons,
who had witnessed the transaction, expressed by
their words and looks a complete approval of the
chastisement I had inflicted upon him who had
been the assailant in the first instance ; and I
walked away in a leisurely manner, intending to
show that if he thought fit to renew the encounter
I was no coward who would flee from it. The
Viscount however displayed no disposition to pro-
voke further strife : but, as if actuated by a sudden
impulse, he leaped into his carriage, which instan-
taneously drove away. A noble-looking Italian,
about forty years of age — of handsome person and
of elegant manners — hastened after me ; and
shaking me by the hand, spoke something with
such volubility that I could not possibly under-
stand his meaning, further than that he was evi-
dently expressing his warm approbation of my
conduct. Perceiving that I was at a loss to com-
prehend him, he spoke in French: and then by
my looks I displayed my knowledge of what Le
was saying.

"Without for a moment inquiring into the
merits of the case," he observed, — "and judging it
only by what I myself beheld, I think that you
courageously met and chastised your dastard assail-
ant. But perhaps you may hear more of it : for
I know that he is vindictive. In that case, hesi-
tate not to send for me — and you shall have the
testimony of one whose word will not go for
naught."

Having thus spoken, the Italian gave me his
card ; and again pressing my hand warmly, he
hurried away, — thus cutting short the thanks
which I was proffering him. I looked at the card,
and found that my new friend was the Marquis of
Spoleto. I did not now carry out my intention of
visiting Francesco Avellino on this occasion : I re-
flected that if I did, he would see that I was
troubled — he would question me as to the cause—
and I knew that he would be pained to learn that
I now had become, as well as himself, an object of
animosity on the part of the Count of Tivoli and
his son. I was exceedingly sorry for the incident
which had just occurred, although it was so utterly
unprovoked by me : but notwithstanding what I
conceived to be the intolerable patrician pride
of tho Count, I was grieved that after having par-
taken of his hospitality, I should thus have beea
dragged into a personal conflict with his son.

150

JOSEPH WILMOT; OB, THE MEMOIES OP A MAN-SEBVANT.

Takings another direction from that which I was
lit first pursuing, I proceeded towards the street in
which the fair unknown invalid dwelt, and which
I was now enabled to find with but little difficulty.
On arriving at the house, I ascended to the Blan-
chards' room ; and on knocking at the door, was at
once admitted by the mechanic's wife, — the man
himself being at his work. She told me that the
invalid lady was somewhat better — and that on
looking around the room when she awoke in the
morning, sho appeared to be conscious of where
she was — but that she continued unable to speak.

" It was with a kind of frightened bewilderment
in her gaze, sir," continued Mrs. Blanchard, " that
she thus looked around her ; and no wonder — for
thanks to your kindness, the poor young lady's
chamber wears a very different aspect from what
it bore this time yesterday. Almost everything
is new, except the bed she lies on : but even
that is changed with the curtains and the clean
warm coverlid that I purchased. Yes — it was
with an evident astonishment the poor thing
looked about her, as if recollecting in what a
miserable room she was when taken ill, and mar-
velling where she could now be. But then she
seemed to understand that she was still in the
same place, though it was much altered ; and as if
the action of thought itself were exhausting, she
closed her sweet black eyes again. I sate up the
greater part of the night with her — I have got a
nurse for her now— and when I went into her
room a few minutes before you came, she was in
a calm sweet sleep. The doctor has visited her
very often ; and he says that all danger is past —
that she will be quite conscious to-morrow — and
that what with youth and a good constitution, she
will soon be well."

I commended Mrs. Blanchard for her kind sym-
pathy on behalf of the invalid, and placed an addi-
tional sum of money in her hands : but I had
some difficulty in forcing her to accept one-half of
it for her own use. She was very grateful; and I
VTRs pleased to see by the aspect of her own room,
that my donation of the previous day had contri-
buted to the comfort of the worthy couple. I said
that I should call again on the morrow ; and I
then took my departure, — not forgetting however
to renew my injunction that no allusion should be
made to me when the young lady might be suffi-
ciently recovered to ask questions.

I returned to the hotel: it was about three
o'clock when I reached it — and just as I was en-
tering the gateway, two sbirri, or police-officers,
came up and took me into custody.

CHAPTER CVIII.

THE EXAMINATION.

I ASKED no questions — I said not a word to these
officials: I was neither troubled nor astonished;
for I perfectly understood what it meant ; and in-
deed after the intimation given me by the Marquis
of Spoleto, I was rather prepared for it than other-
wise. But just at the moment Dominie Clack-
mannan and Mr. Saltcoats came up to the spot,
attended by their courier. The Dominie gazed
with an astonishment so stolid that it was inde-

scribably ludicrous : but Mr. Saltcoats vowed with
an oath, " that not all the police of Eome should
carry off his young friend, who he knew must bo
innocent of anything that could be laid to his
charge." He then, with a remarkable expedition,
unbuttoned his gray overcoat, as well as his gray
under-coat — and dashing his gray hat down upon
his head with an air of fiercest resolution, clenched
his gray-gloved fists, and was preparing to per-
petrate an onslaught upon the sbirri.

" For heaven's sake be quiet, Mr. Saltcoats !" I
exclaimed : "or you will injure my cause far more
than you can befriend it."

" Well then, my young friend," he asked, " what
can we possibly do for you ?"

"It's just that," said the Dominie : "for if we
had Baillie Owlhead here — he being a most worthy
magistrate "

" Will you have the goodness," I said, address-
ing myself to Saltcoats, " to let your cottrier has-
ten to the Marquis of Spoleto's palace, and inform
that nobleman I am arrested. It is merely for a
charge of assault — in which however I was not the

aggressor the Marquis will know what to do

in the business."

Several of the hotel servants had come out to
the entrance — some of the passers-by in the street
had stopped — all under the influence of a feeling
of curiosity which was natural in such circum-
stances : but the courier, on hearing what I had
just said, quickly told them that it was for a case of
alleged assault : and then taking the Marquis's card
which I handed him, he sped away to execute my
commission. A hackney- coach was at once procured:
I entered it with the sbirri : my two friends, the
Dominie and Saltcoats, insisted upon accompany,
ing me — the former expressing his wonder whether
I was going straight to the "Tolbooth" — and the
latter vowing that if I were consigned to gaol, he
would keep me company and brew such a bowl of
punch as could not possibly fail to keep up my
spirits. The sbirri behaved civilly enough— and
all the more so after they had learnt that I had
sent for the Marquis of Spoleto.

In about a quarter of an hour the hackney-
coach stopped at the gateway of a private house j
and I was conducted up a flight of stairs, — the
Dominie and Mr. Saltcoats following. We were
led into a small ante-room, where an old clerk was
writing at a desk : one of the sbirri handed him a
paper, which was no doubt the warrant for my
arrest ; the clerk regaled himself first of all with a
good long stare at me — then with a pinch of snuff
— and then he wrote some endorsement upon the
warrant. The sbirri led me into an adjoining
room, of no considerable dimensions, and which
had not the slightest appearance of being a magis-
terial office — unless it were that it was intersected
by a wooden bar, on the farther side of which a
middle-aged, gentlemanly-looking man was sitting
at a large writing-table. Near him sate the young
Viscount of Tivoli ; and his coachman was stand-
ing in that compartment of the room to which I
was thus introduced. The Viscount darted a ma-
lignant look at me : but I flung upon him a glance
of supremest contempt in return. One of the
sbirri motioned me to advance up to the bar — so
that in this position I faced both the magistrate
and my accuser. A side-door now opened, at tha
summons of a hand-'oell which the magistratj

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OS, THE MEMOIES OF A MAN-SEBVAXT.

151

rang' ; and a thin, mean-looking, shabbilj-dressed
liltle old man made his appearance. Addressing
Litnself to me in tolerably good English, he said,
"I attend here as an interpreter: for his lordship
the Viscount has given the magistrate to under-
stand that you are not proficient in Italian."

The clerk from the outer office now glided in ;
and having passed under the bar by stooping to
do so, he administered the oath to the interpreter.
I was on the point cf intimating that I expected
a material witness, when I thought that perhaps
I had better allow the proceedings to commence :
and indeed I was curious to know what complexion
the Viscount and his coachman would give to the
affair. The Viscount was not sworn ; and he pro-
ceeded to state his complaint in Italian, — very
little of which I was enabled to comprehend — in-
deed not sufficient so as to understand the state-
ment that he made. His coachman was then
called forward ; — he likewise gave his testimony
without being sworn — and it was as little iinder-
stood by me as the tale of his master.

" Now, sir !" said the interpreter, " it be-
comes my duty to inform you of the details of the
charge laid against you — so that you may give
whatsoever explanation or answer you think fit."

" One word !" exclaimed the Viscount, address-
ing me in English. " If you have a spark of
honour in your whole composition, Mr. Wilmot,
you will make no allusion to the circumstances
which led to our dispute — you will merely deal
with the dispute as it stands, and abide by the
consequences."

'• I pledge myself to nothing, my lord," I an-
swered coldly: "but since you have thought fit to
become my aggressor both by personal violence
and by the macLiinery of the law, I shall consider
myself justified in making any statement that may
serve my cause."

"Beware how you disgrace yourself and the
noble name of Tivoli likewise," rejoined the
young Viscount in an impressive manner.

I said nothing more : but I thought to myself
it was a strange proceeding for the Viscount to
become my enemy because he had discovered that
I had recently been in a menial position, and that
now he should actually intimate the propriety of
my abstaining altogether from any allusion to mj
antecedents. I certainly entertained at the mo-
ment a very extraordinary idea of Italian aristo-
cratic pride, which seemed to be avenging an in-
sult offered to it, and yet was fearful of having the
nature of the insult itself made known. In other
words, I fancied that though the Tivolis were
deeply wounded at the idea of having admitted to
tlieir friendship a young man who had formerly
filled menial offices, yet that they would not for
the world have it known that such was the fact.

" The Viscount of Tivoli," said the interpreter,
" has made his representation to the magistrate.
He declares that you, Joseph "Wilmot, are conscious i
of a wrong committed towards himself and his 1
father— and that though all the while conscious I
of this wrong, you nevertheless had the audacity
to court their friendship. But at length it was
discovered by them what your true character is,
and how grossly you were acting towards them.
For this reason the Count of Tivoli passed you by
with silent scorn and detestation in tho street this
morning. Soon afterwards you beheld the Viscount

in his carriage ; and in order to display your brazen
effrontery, you flung upon him an insolent look.
He descended from his carriage to remonstrate with
you on your entire conduct : you seized the whip
from his coachman'g hand, and inflicted upon the
Viscount a brutal assault. This statement, so far
as the assault is concerned, has just been corrobo-
rated by the coachman ,• and you have now to an-
swer it."

" My answer is given in a few words," I said.
" Have the kindness to inform the magistrate that
the Viscount of Tivoli was the individual who seized
the whip from the coachman's hand — that he
therewith struck me first, at the same time calling
me opprobrious names — that I wrenched the whip
from his grasp and broke it over his back — as I
should do again to him or to any one else who dared
act in a similar way towards me."

The interpreter explained to the magistrate all
I had just said; and in obedience to a direction
from that functionary, he said to me, " You must
be well aware that your tale cannot be held good
unless proven by competent witnesses. It is sup-
posed by tiie magistrate that these gentlemen who

j accompany you "

i " It's just that," interposed Dominie Clack-
I mannan, now rolling forward to my side at the bar.
"I have got something to say, which you can ex-
plain to the magistrate. I know this young gen-
tleman well — his name is Joseph — and not Joshua
— because I never knew but one Joshua, and he
was taken up for sheep-stealing. But that reminds
me of how the Baillie Owlhead, of the Gallowgate,
Aberdeen, conducted his magisterial business : so
you will just have the kindness to tell this magis-
trate of your's that if he will take the Baillie Owl-

head as his example "

But here the Dominie was suddenly checked :
for Mr. Saltcoats pulled him back by the tails of
his coat with such force as well nigh to upset his
stolid old friend's equilibrium altogether. The
young Viscount, who understood English well, was
seized with amazement at the Dominie's confused
jargon : while the interpreter, after staring in dis-
mayed astonishment, shook his head as much as to
intimate that he could make nothing of Mr, Clack-
mannan's speech.

"Hold your tongue, Domine!" said Mr. Salt-
coats; "and let me speak in this matter :" — then
addressing himself to the interpreter, he went on
hastily to say, " Tell the magistrate, if you pleise,
that I, Saltcoats by name — a gentleman of Scot-
land— stand forward to proclaim myself the friend
of the accused Joseph WUmot ; and I will back his
simple word against the oaths of all the Italian
Viscounts that ever stepped. If the Viscount
likes to fight it out, I'm his man — and the magis-
trate can be his bottle-holder. But my advice is
that everybody shakes hands with everybody else ;
and then we will adjourn to the hotel, where I
promise you such a jorum of hot punch that all
animosity shall be steeped in it."

Having thus spoken, Mr. Saltcoats smiled
blandly upon the interpreter, — who was however
saved the trouble of explaining to the magistrate
a single syllable of that speech, by the sudden en-
trance of the Marquis of Spoleto, followed by the
courier who was sent to fetch him. The magis-
trate and the interpreter bowed most respectfully
to the nobleman : while the Viscount of Tivoli was

152

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OB, TITE STEMOIBS OF A MA?f-SEEVANT.

seized with a visible uneasiness. Perhaps he had
not noticed the presence of the Marquis on the
theatre of our encounter in the street : or perhaps,
if he had, it had never struck him that he would
come forward. At all events the appearance of
the Marquis was evidently most unexpected ; and
it was viewed bj the Viscount, as I have just said,
with an uneasiness that was plainly perceptible.

Bestowing a friendly bow of recognition upon
me, and declining the seat which the magistrate
offered him. within the bar, the Marquis placed
himself by my side, and began to address the
functionary. I saw that during this speech the
young Viscount turned deadly pale — bit his lip —
and gave a start as if he were inclined to spring
from his chair, either to proclaim a contradiction
to what the Marquis was saying, or to cut short
the proceedings by avowing that he had misrepre-
sented the case. The tale told by the Marquis
was not long — but it was evidently impressive.
The magistrate looked grave, and said something
aside to the Viscount. Then the coachman was
summoned forward again ; and I perceived that he
stammered, hesitated, and fell into guilty confa-
sidn, when severely questioned by the magistrate.

"Perhaps I have gone too far," suddenly ex-
claimed the young Viscount, springing up from
his seat and addressing himself to me. " For this
affair — taken by itself alone, and apart from all
circumstances of grave provocation — I perhaps
owe you an apology. At the same time you must
admit that I had every reason to feel bitterly

against you However, the least said upon that

business here, the better — and therefore to prevent
the circumstances to which I allude from be-
coming the subject of idle gossip, I hope you will
consent that the present proceedings shall be
quashed at once ?"

I scarcely knew what answer to give : but
perhaps a little feeling of pride rendered me by no
means unwilling to avoid any open allusion to my
antecedents ; and I therefore said, after some few
moments* reflection, " Taking your lordship's
speech in the sense of an apology for the outrage
and for the wilful misrepresentation of the circum-
stances, I agree that the inquiry shall here ter-
minate."

The interpreter reported to the magistrate what
I had just said; and the Marquis of Spoleto,
turning to me, inquired, " Are you indeed satisfied
with the apology made by the Viscount ?"

*' Yes," I responded : " I have no wish to push
the proceedings farther — although if they had
occurred in my own native land, the magistrate
himself would not have suffered them to be so
hushed up after such wilful and gross misstate-
ments as those made by the Viscount of Tivoli
and his domestic."

" I perceive," observed the Marquis of Spoleto,
" that there is in the background some affair of a
delicate nature between the Viscount and your-
self, and whence his angry feelings have arisen.
What that may be I do not for an instant seek
to learn: but such being the case, the most pru-
dential course is evidently to let the matter drop
where it is."

" You are discharged, sir," said the interpreter
to me — thus translating the decision which the
magistrate pronounced.

1 expressed to the Marquis my warmest thanks

for the kind interest which he had exhibited on
my behalf : but he cut me short by observing that
he had only performed a duty; and shaking me
by the hand, he took his departure. I returned
to the hotel with Dominie Clackmannan and Mr.
Saltcoats ; and on arriving there I experienced
the utmost difficulty in prevailing on the latter
gentleman to excuse me from partaking of the
bowl of punch which he was firmly resolved t«
brew.

At about noon on the following day I proceeded
to inquire how the invalid young lady was getting
on ; and I ascended to the Elanchards' room. I
found the mechanic and his wife seated at dinner ;
and to my mingled surprise and joy I learnt that
the invalid had not only completely recovered her
consciousness, but that she was so much better as
to be enabled to converse. It however appeared
that she had said nothing which could throw any
light upon her own circumstances : she had neither
mentioned her name nor made any allusion to
family or friends. She evidently fancied that she
was indebted entirely to the Blanchards for the
attention bestowed upon her, as well as for the
improvements which had been introduced into her
chamber : for be it remembered that she was
seized with her severe illness immediately after her
arrival at the house, and therefore had no time to
learn who her neighbours on the same floor were,
or that by their own circumstances they were
utterly incapacitated from doing all she now con-
ceived they had done.

" But you know, sir," added Mrs. Blanchard,
" that the secret cannot be kept much longer
from her : for I really have not the face to receive
those warm expressions of gratitude which she
pours forth in acknowledgment of bounties that
my husband and I had it not in our power to
bestow. What am I to do ? what am I to say ?
Pardon me, sir, for offering my advice : but I
really think that as you have already taken so
much upon yourself, and have acted so kindly
towards the young lady, you should go a step
farther and endeavour to learn whether she has
any friends who can be communicated with——"

At this moment the old nurse whom Mrs.
Blanchard had hired to attend upon the invalid
young lady, entered the room in evident agitation {
and she said something in Italian to the carpenter
and his wife.

" There !" exclaimed Blanchard : " the mischief
is done — if mischief it really is. The old woman
has inadvertently let drop something, although
enjoined to the contrary ■ "

^ What has she said ?" I hastily demanded.

"Very little, it would appear," replied
Blanchard, " but still sufficient to give the young
lady to understand that we are not the authors of
all the bounties she has experienced, and that
some young gentleman who has kept himself in
the background "

" Well, well," I hastily interjected : " wjiat says
the young lady ?"

" She is now in a feverish state of excitement,"
answered the carpenter; "and the nurse fears that
it may cause a relapse unless she is immediately
quieted. She has put a thousand questions as to
who the young gentleman is : but the nurse could
give her no answer to any one of them be-
cause, iir, this is the first time the nurse herself

JOSEPH WILMOT : OE, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SESTANT.

has seen you, and she did not even know before
to what nation you belonged."

"The woman'8 inadvertence," I said, with a
sense of vexation, '•' has complicated the matter
seriously :" — then, after a few instants' reflection,
I added, " It is useless for me to preserve this
mystery any longer. Go you, Mrs. Blanchard, to
the young lady— go quick — tranquillise her — and
in answer to any questions she may put, say
merely these words— that it is Mr. Wilmot who
has taken the liberty of interesting himself on her
behalf"

Mrs. Blanchard accordingly proceeded to the
invalid's room j and in about a quarter of an hour
she returned, saying , " The young lady hopes you
will not deem her request indelicate — but she begs
that she may see you. I conjure you to go to
her, sir : for she is very much excited— and I am
afraid that it may be productive of evil conse-
quences."
72.

" But you must accompany me," I said, having
a regard for the reputation both of the invalid and
myself.

" Tes," responded the mechanic's wife : " she told
me that I was to come with you. She asked me
if I spoke French — and I assured her that I did
not : indeed I speak Italian so indifferently as to
be scarcely able to make myself understood, though
I comprehend it well enough."

I accompanied Mrs. Blanchard to the invalid's
chamber. The curtains were drawn almost com-
pletely about the bed : but through a division in
them a fair hand was extended towards me ; and
as I took it, the soft musical voice of the young
lady — all the softer and more melodiously plaintive
on account of her recent severe illness — said to
me, " Mr. Wilmot, I had already conceived myself
to be under the greatest of obligations to you— but
now I find that I am ten thousand times more in-
debted to your goodness."

154

JOSEPH WILMOT; OB, THE MEMOIES OP A MAN-SERVANT.

"You must not imagine, Signora," I said — and
I should observe that we were speaking in the
French tongue, — "that I was purposely making
any inquiries concerning you "

" No," she interrupted me : " from the worthy
woman who is here present, I have just learnt
under what circumstances you came to hear of my

illness. But pray tell me, Mr. Wilmot for it

is this which is agitating me with the most

nervous, anxious fears tell me whether, since

you thus learnt that I was ill, you have been in-
stituting any inquiries with the hope of discover-
ing my family or friends. If you have, it were
only natural enough ( but I beseech you to inform
me."

"No, Signora — I have not," was my answer.
" In the first place I was utterly devoid of a clue
for the initiation of such inquiries ; and even if I
had possessed it, I should not have followed it up
for fear that such a proceediofif might prove dis-
agreeable to you."

" Yes — you cannot forget the strange mysterious
circumstances under which we met," remarked the
young lady, who was evidently much relieved,
judging from her tone, by the assurance I had
just given her. "And you must forgive me, Mr.
Wilmot," she continued, "if I observed so much

mystery upon that occasion -but I was fearful

that if I informed you what you were doing — I
mean that if I had suffered you to learn from
what place you were assisting my ilight — you
might have been alarmed — you might have in-
sisted on taking me back again Yet when once

the Tuscan frontier was passed and the Eoman
States were entered, there was no longer any

danger to yourself -but still you might not

have known this "

"But tell me, Signora," I said, strangely be-
wildered and perplexed by the vague manner in
which she was thus speaking in agitated and
broken sentences, — " but tell me, Signora, what
place was it from which you escaped? I judged
that it was from the building near which I re-
ceived you into the chaise, and which I could only
see dimly through the darkness which prevailed at
the time."

" Ah ! and you have not even conjectured ?"
said the young lady : then, after a pause, during
which she was most probably deliberating within
herself whether she should make the revelation,
she went on to observe in a low, murmuring,
tremulous voice, "It were ungenerous and un-
grateful to withhold my confidence from you any
longer. Mr. Wilmot, that building from which I
escaped, and in my flight from which you so kindly
succoured me that building was a, con-
vent !"

" A convent ?" I echoed in amazement. " But
you, Signora — were you — were you — a nun ?"

" No, no — • the Blessed Virgin forbid !" she
quickly answered. "I was a novice: but in a very
short ti^ie — in a few days more, my noviciate
would have expired — and I should have been com-
pelled to take the veil. Yes — compelled, Mr.
Wilmot— for the Abbess and the nuns of that con-
vent were cruel and merciless towards me. They
knew that I had griefs continuously rending my
soul — making my existence one prolonged agony ;
and yet the very sources of those griefs were seized
upon by them as the grounds of incessant re-

proaches. Oh ! I was wretched, wretched, beyond
the power of language to describe! — so wretched
that if it had lasted much longer I should have
been goaded to frenzy or driven to lay violent
hands upon myself. A female domestic in that
Tuscan convent took compassion upon me— it was
by her aid that I escaped— it was she who supplied
me with the garments which I wore, instead of
that raiment of a novice which would have be-
trayed me."

Here Mrs. Blanchard interposed— and respect-
fully but earnestly suggested that the young lady
was speaking too much, and that the consequences
might be serious. I felt that this was the truth;
and though I longed to hear more in respect to the
circumstances which had liitherto invested her with
so much mystery, I put a curb upon my curiosity,
and begged her not to continue her revelations for
the present,

" Will you come to me to-morrow ?" she in-
quired, in a soft plaintive tone of entreaty : "pro-
mise ma that you will oome to-morrow ? I will
then tell you everything — —and perhaps— per-
haps," she hesitatingly added, " you will consent
to render me a service ?"

"Yes — I will come to-morrow," I answered.

The fair hand was again stretched forth between
the curtains : I pressed it for a moment with the
warmth of a fraternal friendship ; and then I took
my departure. Throughout the scene which I
have related, I did not behold the young lady's
countenance, and was therefore unable to judge
to what extent it might exhibit the effects of ill-
ness.

On quitting the house, I bent my way towards
Signer Avellino's dwelling, for the purpose of pass-
ing an hour or two in his company. Duriog my
walk thither, I reflected upon all I had heard from
the young lady's lips ; and I wondered what the
additional revelations would be that awaited me
for the morrow. On arriving at Francesco's
dwelling, I found that he was at home— aud was
immediately ushered to the drawing-room, where
he was engaged in reading. He was pensive as
usual ^and, also as usual, he endeavoured to put on
an air of cheerfulness when welcoming me. We
conversed for a little while upon indifferent topics :
and as he made not the slightest allusion to my
encounter with the Viscount of Tivoli, I conceived
him to be ignorant of it. I did not choose to ac-
quaint him with the circumstance j for I was natu-
rally delicate in referring to the name of that
family at all.

" I promised you, my dear Wilmot," he pre-
sently said, " that I would show you the portrait
which I consider to be the masterpiece of my
humble ability — the portrait of her whom X love
with so unchanging a devotion. Come, my friend
— and feeble as the reflection of her natural love-
liness may be upon that canvass, it will neverthe-
less convey to you some idea of the beauty of the
original."

Having thus spoken, Francesco Avellino led me
from the drawing-room, along the passage, towards
his studio. He opened the door— and we entered.
The room was a spacious one ; and several finished
pictures were suspended against the walls, — the
very first glance at them proving that they exhi-
bited a talent of a high order. I fliung upon him
a look of inquiry : and he informed me that they

JOSEPH WILMOT • OB, THE MEMOIES OP A MAN-SEEVANT.

155

were all his own work. Several unfinished pic-
tures, in dift'erent stages towards completeness,
rested upon easels scattered about the room : but
I looked in vain amongst all these works of art for
the object of my curiosity.

"It is liere," said AvoUino ! and he opened a
door leading into a small cabinet.

Upon an easel in this cabinet stood the finished
portrait of the idol of his love, — that portrait
which he had so faithfully painted from the image
that dwelt in his memory. But the instant my
eyes fell upon it, an ejaculation of wild astonish-
ment burst from my lips : for in this exquisite re-
presentation of the countenance of Antonia di
Tivoli, I at once recognised that of the young
lady whom I had brought in the post-chaise to
Borne.

CHAPTER CIX.

A KiaHT-ADTENTtTEE.

Yes— the recognition was instantaneous; and as
that cry of astonishment thrilled from my lips,
Praucesco Avellino started with a most natural
wonderment, and riveted his looks upon me with
the acutesfc suspense: for the idea doubtless flashed
to his mind that I must have some knowledge of
the charming original. Because it was not on my
part the expression of mere admiring amazement
either at the beanty of the countenance or at the
talent of the artist : but it was the cry of one who
beholds features which he has seen before.

" What is it, Wilmot P — for heaven's sake
speak !" he said, deeply agitated.

"I have seen this young lady — I have met
her — I know her," was my response, guardedly
given : for I could not possibly at once proclaim
the entire truth : but, oh ! how suddenly had a
light burst in upon all that was hitherto so darkly
mysterious in respect to the beautiful unknown —
yet unknown now no longer !

"You have seen her.-' you know her?" ejacu-
lated Avellino, almost wild with delight. " Then
she is at large in the world — she is not a prisoner
— she cannot be under coercion ! Oh, where —
where dwells she ? Tell me, that I may fly to
her!" — but then, before I could give him a single
syllable of response, a deep shade suddenly lowered
over his countenance ,• and he said in a gloomy
tone, " But, Oh ! if she be her own mistress, how
is it that she has not written to mo P Is it pos-
sible that she loves me no longer P or have I been
misrepresented and calumniated to her ? Was her
father's letter to me all but too true when he as-
sured me that she had thrown herself at his feet
imploring pardon for what she had done ?"

" Reassure yourself on these points, my dear
Avellino," I hastened to observe so soon as I had
an opportunity of interjecting a syllable. " Make
yourself happy "

" Oh ! thanks— thanks— a thousand thanks for
what you have just said!" — and Francesco, vpell
nigh overpowered by his feelings, sank upon a
chair, trembling with hope, joy, and suspense, and
with tears trickling down his cheeks.

I was profoundly afiected: but I was rejoiced
likewise to think that it should be in my power to

give hopeful assurances to this fond and faithful
lovor : then— in a few instants — I was smitten with
sadness as I recollected that I had yet to make the
painful revelation of Antonia's severe illness.

"Now I am calmer," said Avellino, after a
pause : "I am prepared to listen to whatsoever you
may have to tell me."

Gradually and cautiously I broke to Avellino
the truth in respect to the Lady Antonia. I told
him that she was then in Rome — that she had
been suffering much — indeed, that she had been
very ill — but that all danger was past — and if she
were suffered to remain tranquil she would soon be
convalescent. He wept anew on hearing of her
illness ; at one moment he gave vent to lamenta-
tions, and then to joyous thanksgivings, — display,
ing so much sincere and genuine feeling that I was
again profoundly touched. So far from being calm
and tranquil, as he had promised, he was carried
through all the varied stages of excitement — which
was only too natural under the circumstances. He
besought me to take him to her at once : but he
listened to reason when I gave him to understand
that any sudden shock either of happiness or of
woe, might prove fatal to the young lady in her
present enfeebled condition. He besought me to
tell him how I came to know her; and then 1 en-
tered on that part of my narrative, which, though
recited last, should in reality have come first. I
explained the precise circumstances which had
thrown her in my way, just as they are already
known to my reader. I could not, from the very
tenour of the history, avoid being led into the ad-
mission that my purse had been rendered available
for her comfort during the last two or three days
of her illness : and it was with a species of fra-
ternal enthusiasm that Francesco embraced me, —
calling me his dearest friend, and giving utterance
to the most fervid expressions of gratitude.

He now knew all' — and I besought him to be
calm that we might deliberate upon the course
which should be pursued. The convent from
which she bad escaped, was in the Tuscan domi-
nions; and therefore the Roman law could take no
cognizance of the matter either in respect to her-
self for having fled, nor with regard to me for
having aided in her flight. But then there was
the paternal authority which could exert itself, —
having the power to claim and seize upon the
young lady and dispose of her according to its dis-
cretion.

While we were deliberating upon these points, a
recollection struck me.

" The day after my arrival in Rome," I said, " my
first visit was paid to the Count of Tivoli; and
while seated with him at table, he received a letter
which agitated him considerably. Most pro-
bably that letter contained the announcement of
his daughter's flight from the convent. There can
be no doubt of it ! — for in the evening of the same
day he hastened off" on some important business, as
I learnt from the Viscount. And on what business
could this be, if not to search for his daughter ?
Ah ! and I remember too, when the Viscount was
dining with me, he told me that he had received a
letter from his father, who had not succeeded in
the business which took him from home : but on
that self-same evening the Count returned sud-
denly, and sent to my hotel for his son, to whom
he had something of importance to communicate.

156

JOSEPH -WltMOT; OB, THE MEMOIBS OP A MAK-SEEVANT.

No doubt he had discovered some clue to the direc-
tion which his daughter had taken Aye !

and more too !" I ejaculated, as another light now
flashed in unto my mind : " he must have learnt
enough to prove to him that it was I who had
travelled with her ! No wonder that he shunned
me — no wonder that the Viscount behaved to me
as he did ! — and this will now explain the extraor-
dinary conduct of the latter when before the ma-
gistrate ! How I was mistaken in his motives !
how erroneously I interpreted his allusions !"

" What is all this, my dear friend ?" asked Avel-
lino, in perfect astonishment: for I was indeed
talking in a strain that was perfectly enigmatical
to him. " You speak of the Count's shunning
you — of the Viscount's conduct to yourself — of

scenes before magistrates What does it all

mean ? Sincerely do 1 hope that you have not in
any way suffered on account of your generous con-
duct, from first to last, towards my beloved and
unhappy Antonia ?"

I explained to Avellino the whole transaction in
respect to the assault and the magisterial investi-
gation ; and I frankly informed him that for a
certain period of my life until very recently, I had
been compelled to earn my bread in a menial capa-
city. He grasped my hand with the same affec-
tionate warmth as before, — assuring me that the
avowal I had just made would rather strengthen
than impair the friendship he experienced towards
me.

"I now understand everything," I exclaimed,
" in respect to that transaction of yesterday with
the Viscount. I fancied all the while that the
pride of the Tivolis was offended because
they had by some means discovered that I
was not always what I now am : whereas it is
now clear as daylight that every allusion the
Viscount made, and every appeal to my honour
which he put forth, in reality pointed to the fact
of my having aided the flight of his sister from

the convent and yet I was absolutely ignorant

at the time that she was his sister ! Yes — I can
now make allowances for his conduct ; and I can
understand it in all its details."

" But it seems tolerably evident," observed
Francesco, " that the Count remains in ignorance
of the place of his daughter's abode : otherwise he
would have proceeded thither — and, if it were
practicable, he would have removed her to his own
palace or elsewhere."

" Another idea strikes me," I exclaimed. " The
Count and his son know that I am intimate with
you : perhaps they now fancy that in my friendly
spirit towards you I assisted the Lady Antonia to
escape, and that it is therefore yoti rather than
myself who are acquainted with her present
abode."

"You have seen no one espying your move-
ments and keeping a watch upon you?" said
Francesco, in hasty inquiry.

" No — nothing of the sort," I answered. " And
you?"

" I did not leave my house for two whole days,"
rejoined Avellino : " my feelings were too much
excited after having revealed to you the history of
my love. Nor to-day have I as yet been out.
Possibly indeed — most probably there is a spy
waiting to watch me "

" Or it may be," I suggested, " that the Count

of Tivoli imagines that, under all circumstances,
the precautions for the Lady Antonia's conceal-
ment are too well taken to be easily detected
by espial through the medium of his own agent ;
and he may therefore be employing the secret
police of Rome in the investigation."

" Yes — there is much reason in all that you
suggest," responded Avellino.

" You perceive, therefore, the necessity," I
added, " of observing the utmost caution. In a
word, whatever plans you resolve upon — whatever
intentions you harbour, must be carried out with
the utmost delicacy."

" My intentions are to make Antonia my bride
so soon as circumstances will permit," answered
Francesco: "for can I doubt that she will consent
to accompany me to the altar ? Oh ! did she not
so entreatingly implore you to bring her to Rome
after her escape from the convent, that she might
make me aware of her presence in this city ? And
you say that she bade you return to her to-morrow,
when she would have a boon to beseech at your
hands ? And what service could she thus have to
demand of you, save and except that you would
become her messenger to me? Yes, ^ yes— An-
tonia's love is constant and faithful : she knows —
she feels, that mine is constant and faithful also !
To-morrow, my dear Wilmot, you must break to
her the intelligence that you know me — that we
are friends— and you must prepare her to see
me with the least possible delay."

" It will be absolutely necessary," I suggested,
" for us to assure ourselves, as well as we can,
whether there be spies set upon our movements.
You must come and dine with me at my hotel this
evening ; and during the walk thither, you can
observe whether you are followed by any indivi-
dual in a suspicious manner. If so, we must take
our measures accordingly."

Avellino agreed ; and I then left him. On
issuing from the house, I carefully looked around
j to see if my movements were espied : but I be-
j held no indication that such was the case. I pur-
posely took a circuitous route — rather a zig-zag
one, — going up one street and down another, until
I nearly lost myself — but still without perceiving
that I was followed, or that any particular indivi-
dual hung upon my footsteps. In this manner I
reached the hotel. The Dominie and Mr. Salt-
coats had not as yet returned from their own ex-
cursion through the city ; and I therefore escaped
an invitation to join my dinner with their's —
which invitation they would have been sure to
give, but which I could not have accepted. I bade
the waiter tell them that I dined out : but on the
other hand I ordered a repast to be served in my
own private rooms. Avellino came, punctual to
the appointed hour ; and in respect to the espial
which was deemed to be probable, he had the same
account to give me as I had to render unto him :
namely, that he had observed no indication of his
movements being watched or his footsteps dogged.
Nevertheless, we settled our plans for the morrow
with all suitable precaution. He was to rise early
in the morning and ride his horse to a village at
some few miles' distance from Home : there he
was to hire a vehicle and return secretly into the
city, which he was to reach by noon ; and he was
to wait for me in a private apartment at a coffee-
house in the same street where Antonia lodged.

JOSEPH ■mLMOT; OH, THB MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT.

157

On my part, it was settled that I was to proceed,
with all suitable circumspection, to the young
lady's abode before noon, so that I should have
time to break to her the intelligence that her
lover was in the neighbourhood and was waiting
to be introduced to her presence.

When it was time for Francesco Avd'ino to
take his departure from the hotel, at about half-
past ten o'clock, I offered to walk a portion of the
way with him, in order that we might combine
our scrutinising powers so as to ascertain whether
there were any indications of espial. We set out
accordingly ; and as we issued from the hotel, it
crtainly struck us that a man, with a slouching
hat, and whose countenance was completely shaded
thereby, did move on in the same direction as our-
selves : but when we again looked round, the indi-
vidual was no longer to be seen. We walked on,
slowly stopping every now and then as if discours-
ing earnestly on some interesting topic ; but we
still saw nothing more of the supposed spy.

"We must not, however," said Avellino, " lull
ourselves into the completest security on this
point : for the spies of the secret police have a
marvellous ingenuity in tracking persons, they
themselves remaining unseen — so that there is a
superstitious belief amongst the lower orders that
these functionaries have the power of rendering
themselves invisible."

" We will adopt every precaution to-morrow," I
answered, " when carrying out the plans which
we have already settled."

Thus discoursing, Avellino and I continued our
way — not failing to keep watch to see if our foot-
steps were dogged : but we perceived no farther
indication that such was the case. When within
about half a mile of Francesco's dwelling, I bade
him good night ; and we separated. I began to
retrace my way towards the hotel ; and I had to
traverse three or four streets in a poor and some-
what suspicious neighbourhood. I, however, had
no fear, although completely unarmed : for since I
had been in Eome I had beheld nothing to war-
rant apprehension of outrage in the streets ; and
when I apply the te'rm stispiciotis to the particular
quarter to which I am alluding, I am referring to

fell with a horrible cry. His companion flew at
me the nest instant with the fury of a tiger ; and
as I had scarcely time to act on the defensive after
having levelled my first opponent, I have every
reason to believe that my life would have been
sacrificed, were it not that the second robber's
foot tripped over his prostrate comrade's leg — and
he fell heavily. I was upon him in a moment :
but before I could disarm him, he dealt me a
severe blow on the right shoulder with his sharp
dagger ; and in an instant I felt the warm blood
gushing down my arm. I was terribly excited by
that wound ; and wrenching the dagger from his
grasp, struck the handle with all my might upon I
his forehead. At that very instant a posse of j
sbirri came up to the spot; and when 1 endea- i
voured to rise from the prostrate form of the
ruffian whom I had just stricken senseless, I was I
seized with a sudden faintness — my brain ap-
peared to swim round — and consciousness aban*
doned me.

When I returned to my senses, I found myself
lying on a sofa in my bedroom at the hotel, with
Dominie Clackmannan and Mr. Saltcoats bending
over me, and a third person — a gentlemanly-
looking man, dressed in black— standing at a iitlk
distance. At first I thought that my adventure in
the street must be all a dream, and that after en-
tertaining Avellino at dinner, I had lain down and
gone to sleep upon that sofa. But as I endea-
voured to raise myself up, Saltcoats said something
to prevent me ; and then I became sensible of a
pain in the fleshy part of my shoulder. The
gentlemanly-looking man stepped forward, and
made a sign for me to lie quiet. He addressed me in
Italian : but finding I did not understand it, he
spoke in French : for I should observe that there
are few educated persons in Italy who are not ac-
quainted with the latter tongue as well as with
their own. He told me that I had received a
wound which was severe in consequence of the
quantity of blood I had lost ; but that it was by
no means dangerous — and that if I kept myself
quiet, I should soon be well. I need hardly ex-
plain that this gentleman was a surgeon; and I
was about to ask him who had brought me back to

its aspect rather than to any known circumstances the hotel, — when he himself began questioning me

to justify the aspersion. But my experience of
the Soman streets by night was now destined to
become considerably enlarged ; for just as I was
entering one of the narrow dirty dark thorough-
fares in the quarter which I had to traverse, my
ears caught the sound of a scufiie — of voices speak-
ing excitedly — and then of the, heavy fall of a
human form. It seemed as if wings were sud-
denly lent to my feet : I flew in the direction
whence the sounds came : and through the almost
total obscurity I could just distinguish a couple of
men stooping over the prostrate form of a third,
and evidently rifling his person. The villains no
doubt fancied that I was some confederate thus
speeding towards them: for they did not take
either to the ofi'ensive or defensive until I was
close upon them ; and then, with sudden ejacula-
tions, they sprang towards me. A dagger which one
wielded, glanced miraculously away from my left
arm, only tearing the coat-sleeve, as I subsequently
discovered ; and in an instant I wrenched the
weapon from the ruffian's grasp. Quick as light-
ning I aimed at his breast : I struck him— and he

as to the circumstances of the conflict. I recited
them in the same way as I have already narrated
them to my readers ; and then I had to give the
same story over again in English, for the benefit
of my friends Mr. Clackmannan and Mr. Salt-
coats.

" Well, the sbirri who brought you home," said
Saltcoats, " told the servants of the hotel there had
been some medley in which you had behaved your-
self most courageously — the servants told it to our
courier — and the courier told it to us : but the
police-officers did not wait to give much explana-
tion."

" And the gentleman whom I rescued from those
ruffians ?" I said : " what tidings of him P Was
he murdered by them ? or was he only stunned ?"

" Oh I from the little we heard," answered Salt-
coats, '•' he was not killed outright but that is

all we are able to tell you."

" And how did the officers know where Hived ?"
I inquired after a pause.

"It's just that," interposed Dominie Clack-
mannan. " Saltcoats, who is always telling me I

158

JOSEPH WILMOT; OB, THE MEMOIRS OP A MAN-SEBVANT.

forget things -and that puts me in mind of

what I one day said "

" Nonsense, Dominie !" interrupted Mr. Salt-
coats : " one would think you had enough of the
widow Glenbucket after the precious scene in
the coffee-room. But it is true, my dear Wilmot,
I did forget to mention something — which is, that
one of the sbirri who brought you home, happened,
as the courier told me, to be likewise one of the
two that came to arrest you in the assault case."

Here the surgeon, exercising his professional
authority, interfered to prevent farther discourse ;
and by the aid of my friends I got to bed— for I
felt very weak and faint. Mr. Saltcoats declared
that he should sit up with me all night— a pro-
posal that was seconded by the Dominie, who was
thereby reminded of how be had once passed a
similar vigil when his friend Baillie Owlhead broke
his neck : and then he recollected that it could not
have been his neck, or else he could scarcely have
lived over twenty good years afterwards, and be
still alive. I positively refused to keep the two gen-
tlemen from their beds; and the matter was cut
short by the entrance of an elderly female belong-
ing to the hotel, and whom the surgeon had en-
gaged to act as my nurse. The Dominie and Mr.
Saltcoats accordingly retired — though/with consi-
derable reluctance : for they experienced the most
friendly interest on my behalf. Sleep soon visited
my eyes ; and I slumbered tranquilly until about
nine o'clock in the morning, — when I awoke so
much refreshed that I could scarcely believe my
wound was one-tenth part so severe as it actually
was.

The surgeon came and examined it : I saw by
his countenance that it was progressing most
favourably ; and I asked him if I might not get
up. He replied positively in the negative : I was
about to remonstrate, and to represent that I had
urgent business requiring my attention — when I
reflected how useless it would be to argue the
point ; for that he was sure to reiterate the decree
that I must remain nailed to my couch — while I
on the other hand was equally determined to leave
it if possible. Having dressed my wound, and
given some directions to the nurse, he went away,
— intimating that there was no necessity for him
to return until the afternoon ; and he had not
been gone many minutes when I was visited by
the Dominie and Saltcoats, I wanted to be left to
myself not merely to deliberate, but also to act if
I could muster strength sufficient: I therefore
pleaded headache and exhaustion — and thus ma-
naged to get rid of them. I then affected to sleep ;
and the nurse left me.

The instant I was alone, I got carefully out of
bed to ascertain whether I was strong enough to
stand upon my legs ; and to my joy I found that
I was, — although I certainly felt exceedingly weak.
Then I lay down again, — having consulted my
watch, which showed me that it was now ten
o'clock. I reflected that it was much too late to
pend a message to Avellino ; and, according to an
arrangement of the preceding evening, he must
have started two hours back on his ride into the
country. Therefore, if I had wished to postpone
the meeting with Antonia until the following day,
I could scarcely have done so — or at all events not
without causing Avellino to experience the most
painful anxiety by not keeping my appointment

with him at the coffee-house. And then too the
Lady Antonia herself would be perplexed and full
of apprehension if I did not visit her according to
promise. But I had really no wish to break these
appointments, now that I had once found myself
strong enough to stand upon my legs ; and I was
therefore resolved to keep them at any risk or
peril to myself. But I determined to lie in bed
another hour — then get up — summon the waiter,
dress by his aid — and set off at once in a
hackney-coach, in defiance of all the representa-
tions which the nurse or any one else might make
to me.

Scarcely had I thus revolved all these things in
my mind, when the nurse opened the door gently ;
and perceiving that I was not asleep, she intro-
d'.iced an individual whom I immediately recog-
nised as the interpreter who had officiated at the
examination at the magistrate's office. He made
a low bow J and walking on tip-toe up to the bed,
expressed a hope that I found myself better and
that I should soon get over the injury I had sus-
tained. I thanked him for his civility— and re-
quested to be informed of the business which had
brought him thither, — adding, " I presume you
have been sent by the magistrate to receive what-
soever I may have to say in respect to the trans-
action of last night ?"

" jff ot exactly, sir," answered the interpreter :
"for one of the ruffians— be on whom you be-
stowed a thrust with his own dagger — has saved
you a world of trouble on that account by con-
fessing everything."

" Was the wound mortal ?" I hastily inquired.

" No, sir," rejoined the interpreter, — " though

at the instant the fellow thought it was 1

mean at the instant when he regained his con-
sciousness—which was very soon after the sbirri
came up to the spot."

" And the other man ?" I asked.

" Oh ! he was merely stunned : but they are
both in gaol now, and will be severely punished
for their villany."

I was glad to hear that neither of the mis-
creants had lost their life b^ my hand: for al-
though it would have been the extreme of fastidi-
ousness to reproach myself even if both had
perished under such circumstances, — yet at the
same time I felt more satisfied at not having
caused the death of a fellow-creature, however
much such a doom might have been merited.

" And now," I said, " will you have the kind-
ness to tell me how fares it with the individual,
whoever he might be, that I was fortunate enough
to save from being plundered — perhaps murdered
— by those miscreants ?"

"Excuse me, sir," answered the interpreter;
" but it would be better if I were to give you a
hasty sketch of what took place upon the occasion,
after the sbirri came up ; and then you will all
the more easily comprehend the purport of the
mission on which the magistrate has sent me."

"Proceed," I said: "but use as few words as
possible ; for, as you may readily suppose, I am in
no mood for the excitement of discourse."

" I will be as brief as I can," rejoined the inter,
preter. " It seems, sir, that a patrol of sbirri re-
ceived information of two or three suspicious-
looking men lurking about that particular neigh-
bourhood last night: and they kept upon the

JOSEPH ■WlIiMOT; OE, THE MEMOIRS 01' A MAN-SERVANT.

159

watch. They heard a loud cry, as if of mental
agony "

" Ah, I remember !" I interjected. " It was the
cry of the ruffian who attacked me first, and whom
I wounded with his own dagger."

" Well, sir, upon hearing that cry," continued
the interpreter, " the police-officials rushed to the
spot : but they found their work already done for
them, inasmuch as both the ruffians were disabled
and at their mercy. You endeavoured to rise —
but you fainted on the spot. One of the sbirri pro-
duced his lantern ; and he instantaneously recog-
nised your features — for he was one who arrrested
you on the complaint of the Viscount of Tivoli.
You were accordingly borne hastily away by two
of the officers to your hotel; while the others re-
mained upon the spot to perform such duties as
might be required at their hands. I need hardly
say that one of these duties was to take the rob-
bers into custody — or that another was to render
assistance to the personage who lay senseless upon
the pavement. This personage was immediately
recognized, as you yourself had already been ; and
he was conveyed to his abode. He continued in a
state of unconsciousness until his dwelling was
reached ; and in that state he was consigned to the
care of his domestics. A few hasty words of ex-
planation were given to them : but there was no
time for minute details, as the personage alluded to
required immediate medical succour. Meanwhile
the two villains were conveyed to the guard-house ;
and there the one who received the dagger-wound,
fancying himself to be at the point of death, ex-
plained the whole transaction — thereby proving,
sir, how gallantly you bore yourself "

" Spare your compliments," I interrupted the
obsequious interpreter: "I only performed a
duty."

" A duty it may be, sir," he exclaimed : " but it
is not every one who, totally unarmed, will rush
in to the defence of a fellow-creature's life and
property when odds have to be encountered and
death is to be dared. However, I see that you
are impatient ; and therefore I will continue.
About an hour back, the magistrate of the district
received a written communication from the per-
fionage whom you so materially and chivalrously
assisted last night. I must now inform you that
the personage alluded to, has his own good reasons
for not wishing it to be known that he was out at
that late hour, and in such a neighbourhood —
alone— and in disguise too — last night. He has
therefore requested the magistrate to conduct the
proceedings in such a way as to spare him the
necessity of coming forward — and likewise to
prevent his name from publicly transpiring. At
the same time he is most anxious to display his
gratitude towards the gallant individual who, as
the slirri informed his domestics, lent him such
valuable assistance — perhaps saving him from
beJDg murdered, and certainly from being plun-
dered by his ruffian assailants. That deliverer is
yourself. And now for the object of my mission.
You are to communicate through the magistrate,
•—I having the honour of serving as the medium
of sucb communication, — in what particular way
your interests can be advanced or your wishes be
met. If you desire a sum of money, the per-
sonage alluded to will place an amount equivalent
to a thousand English guineas at your disposal.

If you prefer a gift, it shall be of the costliest and
richest description. If you fancy a lucrative
situation, such as you may be able to fill, you have
only to speak the word. Or if again "

" Enough of all this !" I somewhat impatiently
interrupted the interpreter : " the little service I
was enabled to perform, is not to be recompensed
by such means. I presume that the personage of
whom you are speaking, intends that I also shall
remain in ignorance of who he is ?"

" I am bound to admit, sii-," answered the in-
terpreter, "that such is the fact. Of course I
know who the personage is — but 'I am sworn to
secrecy."

" I do not ask you to tell me," I said : " I have
no curiosity oh the point — neither will I for a mo-
ment seek to induce you to violate your oath.
What I meant to say was, that I would much
rather the personage whom I risked my life to
succour, would treat me with a frank and honest
confidence, instead of enshrouding himself in all
this mystery. I feel it as an insult. He ought to
know that one who thus unhesitatingly dared
death on behalf of a fellow-creature, would faith-
fully and honourably keep that fellow-creature's
secret, if it were desirable that such secret should
be so kept. I am afraid, after all, my life was
risked on behalf of one who was little worthy such
consideration, and that he was engaged in no very
creditable pursuit "

" Hush, sir !" said the Interpreter : " I beseech
you not to judge thus by appearances : for the
character of that personage is unimpeachable !"

I was about to make some incredulous and
perhaps unkind response, when I recollected that
it were perhaps unwise as well as daugerous to
talk too freely or deliver opinions so glibly in a
country where despotism prevailed, and where the
authorities, interpreting the law accordiug to their
own convenience, found in the sbirri most ready
agents to execute it. Besides, it was of no conse-
quence to me to argue the point ; and 1 had other
as well as more important business in hand.

" Well," I said, "let it be all as you have re-
presented it : this personage may retain his secrecy
and envelope himself in mystery. He is doubt-
less some great man — and therefore he will con-
tinue unknown to me : while perhaps, I being a
humble individual, shall speedily be forgotten by
him ?"

" Not so," responded the interpreter ; " for his
written communication to the magistrate contains
a special desire that your name may be mentioned
to him, so that he may treasure it up as one well
worthy the remembrance, and that ho may like-
wise know whom to speak of in his prayers.
Your name, sir, will be therefore duly conveyed
to this personage at the same time that the inti-
mation be sent as to the particular mode in which
you choose his gratitude to display itself towards
you."

" I gather, then, from your discourse," I said,
" that he is at present ignorant of my name ?"

" It is even so," answered the interpreter :
"but this is not his fault. I have already ex-
plained that he was borne home by the sbirri in a
state of complete unconsciousness, and that there
was little leisure for them to give explanations td
his domestics. Those explanations were therefore
limited to the mere announcement that theit

160

JOSEPH WILMOT; OB, THE MEMOIES OF A M;AN-ST:RVAyT,

master had fallen in with evil characters — and tha
it would have gone hard with him were it not fcr
the intervention of a gallant young foreigner who
was severely wounded in the conflict. Thus, you
see, sir, that if the sbirri told the domestics no
more than this, the domestics themselves could
tell their master no more : and your name being
omitted, it could not possibly be conjectured by
him. Tax him not therefore with ungracious
levity or ungrateful indifference in dealing with
you : he is doing all he can under existing cir-
cumstances to display his sense of obligation

Ah ! by the bye, I had forgotten something — and
in my haste to acquit myself of my mission, be-
cause of the state in which I find you, I had well
nigh left a small portion of it unaccomplished."

" Proceed then," I said ; " and make your tale
complete."

'■' The written communication to the magi-
strate," continued the interpreter, "specifies in
detail certain recompenses or services which the
personage leaves to your choice. But it further
adds that inasmuch as he is unacquainted with
Tour position and circumstances — and as you may
ve too opulent to require gold, too proud to accept
gifts, and too independent to need a lucrative post
— he leaves it to you to name such boon as you
anay think fit to ask at his hands, or which he
with due regard to personal honour and delicacy
may be enabled to grant. And if you require
time to reflect thereon, by all means take it. I
am at your orders — I will wait upon you again
at your leisure — and in the meanwhile the magis-
trate wUI postpone his response to the written
•communication. One word more I should add —
which is, that the personage referred to is some-
what highly placed ; and he declares in his letter
that if you ask a boon according to your own
prompting, it need not be a small nor a scanty one
— but he would rather that you should measure it
according to the magnitude and importance of the
service which you have performed. Now, sir, I
think that you will not tax this personage with a
churlish want of confidence— much less with in-
gratitude."

"After all you have told me," I responded, " I
do indeed take blame to myself for having just
now spoken somewhat hastily and lightly on the
point. I beg therefore to recall those words, and
to solicit as a favour that they may not be repeated
elsewhere."

"Eest assured, sir," replied the interpreter,
" that I am the last man in existence who would
willingly make mischief — especially where so
generous and brave a young gentleman as your-
self is concerned."

" I thank you for this assurance : and as for all
you have been saying to me," I continued, " I
will take a little time to reflect upon it. Indeed,
I cannot now continue the discourse. When I feel
myself equ.l to renew it, I will send for you at
the magisuate's office. Have the kindness to give
me that purse from the mantel-piece."

The interpreter complied, bowing at the same
lime with the air of a man who knew he was j
about to receive a gratuity ; and I made him a
liberal present. He then retired ; and the mo-
ment the door closed behind him, I looked at my
watch. It was eleven o'clock : the nurse entered
at the instant— and I understood suficient Italian

to convey to her my wish that a particular waiter
should be sent up to me.

CHAPTEE ex.

THE APP0IKTMENT3.

The waiter for whom I had just sent, understood
French ; and I was therefore enabled to converse
with him at my ease. He was moreover the one
who usually attended upon mo in my own private
apartments : he was civil and obliging, and as
little prone to curiosity as a hotel-official could
possibly be.

"I have important business to transact," I said;
" and at any risk I must go and execute it. You
can assist me in my toilet not a word of remon-
strance you see that I am quite able to get up

and walk about."

The waiter hastened to obey my mandates : my
toilet was soon accomplished — and a sling supported
my disabled arm. I then bade him hasten and
fetch a hackney-coach : he departed — and in a few
minutes returned to announce that it was ia readi-
ness. The nurse came into the room, and began
remonstrating vehemently in Italian : but I cut
her short, and walked down stairs— slowly indeed
— and supporting myself by the banisters: for the
excitement of dressing had almost deprived me of
the little strength I possessed. Two or three of
the other domestics whom I encountered, looked
surprised ; and then I overheard them whisper to
each other something about the magistrate's office.
This gave me a hint : — they evidently fancied I
was going to furnish my testimony in respect to
the transaction wherein I had received my wound.
Accordingly, when seated in the vehicle, I told the
coachman to drive to the magistrate's office. On
passing away from the hotel, I looked out of the
windows of the vehicle to the right and to the left,
to see if there were any indications of my move-
ments being espied : but I could perceive none.
When the equipage had passed through two or
three streets, I pulled the check-string : the coach-
man stopped and alighted: I told him that I had
altered my mind, and that he was to take me to
such and such a street, — naming that in which the
Lady Antonia lodged. It was my original inten-
tion, according to the plan settled with Avellino, to
proceed in a variety of directions and change
vehicles three or four times before repairing to my
destination, so as to throw any spy off the scent :
but this arrangement was made ere I was wounded,
and when I had health and strength to execute the
precautionary device. Now it was altogether dif-
ferent: there was no time to lose — and I was too
weak and feeble to bear a protracted journey, or to
shift from coach to coach. Therefore, at any risk,
was I compelled to proceed straight to the street
where Antonia dwelt.

I had mentioned no specific address ; and there-
fore the coachman stopped at the entrance of
the street. There I alighted— gave the man
a liberal fee — and dismissed the equipage, i
looked cautiously about — but could see no one
following me: indeed, there were only two or
three persons passing in that street, and their
appearance forbade me to take them as spies. I

JOSEPH WILMOT; OB, THE MEMOIES OF A MAN-SERVANT.

161

Sached the chemist's shop— entered it to rest my-
self— and desired the apothecary to give me some
strengthening cordial. This he did : I felt revived
—and issuing from the shop again, glanced care-
fully along the street. My eyes, as they thus swept
the narrow throughfare, settled on no one who
seemed occupied with the affairs of other people ;
and I passed on to the house were Antonia lodged.
On ascending to the Blanchards' room, I found the
mechanic's wife preparing her hushand's dinner,
— he being absent at his work ; and she gave vent
to a cry of mingled alarm and astonishment on
perceiving how pale I looked, how feebly I walked,
and that my arm was in a sling. I gave her a
few hasty words of such explanation as was ne-
cessary to account for my appearance, and then in-
quired concerning the fair unknown, as I still
called her — for I of course did not choose to com-
municate to Mrs. Blanchard who the beautiful in-
valid really was. I learnt that she had improved
73.

since the preceding day to a surprising degree—
that she hardly looked like the same person — and
that the physician himself was astonished at her
rapid progress towards convalescence. I was also
informed that she now anxiously awaited my pro-
mised visit, and that she was quite prepared to re-
ceive me. I accordingly bade Mrs. Blanchard lead
the way into the invalid's chamber ; and the old
nurse having been previously fetched out of the
room, we crossed the threshold.

The Lady Antonia was sitting in an arm-chair
near the fire ; and I observed at a glance that ill-
ness had by no means wrought the ravages that
might have been expected. Indeed, upon perceiv-
ing me, a slight tinge appeared upon her cheeks :
for she naturally felt some amount of flutteriug
agitation at the thought that she was about to
make revelations which she little suspected to be
no longer necessary. Her dark hair flowed ia
heavy tresses upon her shoulders and down her

162

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OE, THE MEMOIES OP A MAN-SEBVANT,

back, — thus forming a pillow, as of a myriad
ravens' wings, for the support of that beautiful
head that reclined languidly there. She wore the
same garb in which she had first become my tra-
Telling-companion — for there had been no oppor-
tunity to obtain her more suitable vestments; but
the meanness of that apparel remained compara-
tively unnoticed as I contemplated its lovely and
interesting wearer. Her large dark eyes had lost
none of that soft lustrous sweetness which they
possessed when first they opened upon me in the
postchaise ; and her lips parted with a smile of
gratitude and friendly welcome as I made ttf
appearance, — such a smile as a fond sister might
bestow upon a kind and aifectionate brother. But
all in a moment that smile passed away from the
lips, and that soft carnation tinge frofla the cheeks —
while her whole form started with the same visible
dismay that seized likevAse upon her features, when
she saw that my arm was in a sling-, that I looked
pale, and that I sustained myself feebly. In a
few hurried words I explained the cause of all this
— but without stating that I had been walking a
part of the way home witlj Ftancesco Avellino
when the adventure occurred to me. I felt the
necessity of dealing most Considerately with the
invalid young lady, and of breaking to her with
all possible caution thei iiiMligence which 1 tad to
impart.

Mrs. Blancharii sil:§ ^own 1^ the window : I
took a chair opposite tO that v?hfch the Lady An-
tonia' occupied : she gave me her hand — she ga'zed
upe'n me with visible concern depicted on her fea-
ttfres — she expressed a hope that my wound was
indeed as little serious as I had represented it ;
arid then she falteringly added, " But instead of
coDiing to me to-day, you should have retained
youV couch — you should not have quitted your own
chamber ! And it is on my account that you are
incurring these risks — Oh ! it is too, too generous
on your part — too, too selfisWy exacting on
mine!"

" I beseech yoU, signora," I said, '■' not to agi-
tate yourself nor render ytftnf mind aii'easy on my
account. I was quite strong enough to come to
you — and rest assured that I shall sufi'er no ill
effects from whatsoever exertion has been thus re-
quired to keep the appointment for this day and
for this hour. It was of importance that I should
be here now."

The young lady fixed her eyes upon me for a few
moments as if she thought that there was some-
thing significant in my tone and looks ; and I,
fearful of being misapprehended, hastened to add,
" Believe me, signora, I feel in,all that concerns
you a brother's interest ! For there is one in the
world who is very dear to me — and if she were
environed by circumstances that rendered her in
want of fraternal counsel and succour "

" Ah !" ejaculated the young lady with a per-
ceptible tremor of the entire frame ; " there is
some meaning in jour words !" — and then with
downcast looks and blushing cheeks, she added,
" Is it possible that you have penetrated my
secret— or any portion of it P"

"I beseech you to tranquillize yourself," I said,
speaking slowly and guardedly. " There have
been strange coincidences — accident has thrown

me in the way of several personages But not

for a single moment have I stepped out of my

own path to gratify an impertinent curiosity or to
institute inquiries——"

'•' Mr. Wilmot," interrupted the beautiful in-
valid, speaking in a voice that was low but tre-
mulously clear — and at the same time she exerted
all her power to subdue the agitation of her feel-
ings j "I see that you know who I am— —Per-
haps you know more "

" Lady," I responded, " compose your mind-
tranquillize yourself — you have much more to hope

than you have to fear But I conjure you not

to give way to any excitement that may ca'ttsfe al
relapse ! Yes, it is true I know all — ari4 I *m
happy in being enabled to give you the assufaVice
that he on whom your affections are flied, is
worthy by his own constancy of all this' idie hi
your's!"

Antonia did not speak : but her looks incficated
the ineffable joy which my words had infused, into
her heart. They indicated likewise the gratitude
which she experienced for the fraternal palft I
Was performing towards her. A prolonged sigh
of deep immeasurable bliss came up froni her
heart ; and then, as tears expressive of a kindred
feeling — or rather of many emotions all finding
the same vent — trickled slowly down her cheek?,
her hands were clasped fervently, and her lifs
moved in silent prayer. The scene was altogether
a most afi'ectiug one. Mrs. Blanchard saw that
some important communications had been Jlttrfdo
from my lips — though of their nature she was
ignorant, for she did not understand the French
language in which we were speaking. But she
looked on with an earnest, deep-felt, friendly in-
terest; and I could not help saying to the worthy
woman, " Since I was here yesterday I h'avo
learnt something which enables mo to communi-
cate agreeable tidings to your fair patient."

" How can I ever express the profouild grati-
tude which I experience towards you ?" asked the
Lady Antonia in the softest and most melting
tones of her melodious voice, which vibrated
to her feelings like the music of an iEolifl,n harp
agitated by the evening zephyrs. " From the very
first to the last you have proved my best frjend !
Oh, the longest life will not be sufficient to enable
me to prove the true sisterly regard which I feel
for you !"

" And I on my part, lady," was my response,
" am immeasurably rejoiced at having been
enabled to render services, whether of greater or
lesser importance, to her in whom my friend
Francesco Avellino is so deeply, deeply interested.
But I have something more to say. Can you
compose yourself ? will you exercise the strongest
control over your feelings ? — in a word, are you
strong enough to bear an interview with him in

the course of — of — to-day or— or — to-morrow

— if I take the necessary measures to britog it
about ?"

" Oh ! can you ask me ?" exclaimed Antonia
fervently. " Eegarding you as a brother, I may,
without blushing in your presence, confess that to
see Francesco would be giving me health and
strength — because it would be filling my soul with-
happiness But one word!"— and here a deep
shade suddenly came over her countenance : " my
father — my brother "

"Your ladyship has already understood from
my words that I am acquainted with them :" — and

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OE, THE MEMOIES OF A JTAlf-SEEVANT.

163

then I was about to explain how our brief friend-
ship had been cut short ; but I thought it better
not to afflict her, nor yet to waste valuable time
with statement^ which under existing circum-
Btances were altogether unnecessary. I therefore
hastened to add, " They are well in health •"

" But they have doubtless heard of my escape
from the convent 1" exclaimed Antonia with
feverish anxiety. "Yes — the intelligence must
have reached them ! The Abbess, as much through
a feeling of malignity as from a sense of duty, will
Lave lost no time in writing to my father "

" 13ut for the present," I interrupted her,
" there is a more agreeable topic on which to dis-
course with you. On leaving you yesterday, I
proceeded to visit my friend Avellino: — in his

studio I beheld a portrait Need I say whose

countenance it represented ? or need I add that
everything was comprehended by me in a moment ?
And now. Lady Antonia, it depends upon yourself
how many minutes shall elapse ere Francesco is
here."

It would be impossible to describe the anima-
tion of elysian bliss which overspread the beau-
teous countenance of the Count of Tivoli's daugh-
ter. No word from her lip was necessary to convey
a response to the observation I had last jnade ;
and hastily entreating that she would compose and
tranquillize herself as much as possible, I issued
from the room. Mrs. Blanchard followed me —
the nurse was sent back to the young lady — and I
said to the mechanic's wife, " I cannot now pause
to give you any explanations : but you have con-
ducted yourself so admirably towards the invalid
lady that it would be the deepest ingratitude to
refuse you the fullest coniidence hereafter. In
process of time, therefore, you shall know all. In
a few minutes you may expect to see me again ;
and I shall be accompanied by some one whose
presence will infuse the liveliest joy into that
young lady's heart."

Having thus spoken, I hastened away, — almost
forgetting my enfeebled condition, so anxious was
I now to bring together these two fond devoted
lovers. I hurried into the street; and it was not
until I was close by the door of the coffee-house
where I was to meet Avellino, that I remembered
the precaution of looking out for spies. The
glances which I flung around, however, appeared
to be satisfactory in their results ; and entering
the coffee-house, I was at once conducted by a
waiter to a private apartment where I found
Francesco expecting my arrival with feverish im-
patience. It was now his turn to be made ac-
quainted with the occurrence of the preceding
night ; and in his generous friendship be even
constrained his impatience to see Antonia, that he
might put a thousand questions to me in order to
elicit the assurance that my wound was not a
severe one — that I incurred no danger by coming
out to keep these appointments — and that the
medical man had promised a speedy recovery ? I
hastily satisfied him on all these points ; and we
issued from the coffee-house together. No
Buspicious-looking persons appeared to be in the
Btreet : we reached the house where dwelt the
object of my friend's devoted love; we gently
ascended the stairs — and we entered the Blan-
chards' room. I desired the mechanic's wife to
fetch out the nurse again from the invalid's

chamber : my command was speedily obeyed ; and
then I said to Avellino, " Go, my dear friend — •
this excellent Englishwoman will conduct you into
the presence of your beloved. I shall await you
here."

Francesco, wringing my hand with the most
grateful fervour, accompanied Mrs. Blanchard ; and
as the door of the invalid's chamber opened, the
ejaculations of joy which burst from the lips of
the lovers reached my ears, — falling thereon like
the most delicious music : for I said to my-
self, " Those same expressions of bliss will mark
the meeting of the adored Annabel and myself !"

But scarcely had this thought traversed my mind,
when my ear was suddenly smitten with sounds of
a less welcome character : for I heard the footsteps
of several men ascending the stairs ; and on going
forth upon the landing, I beheld Antonia's father
and brother, accompanied by three or iouv shirri.

" At length we have traced you both, villains
that ye are !" ejaculated the young Viscount, spring-
ing towards me.

" Keep back, my lord," I said : " or maimed
though I be, you may experience a chastisement
as little palatable as that whicli you so recently
received."

The door of Antonia's room opened at the in-
stant ; and Francesco Avellino — who had heard
the ominous steps and the sounds of voices — made
his appearance. He was as pale as death ; and he
at once spoke earnestly to the Count of Tivoli ;
and as I subsequently learnt, the words which he
addressed to his lordship in Italian, were to the
effect that any disturbance or violence committed
in the house might prove fatal to his daughter—
for that she was only just beginning to recover
from a severe and dangerous illness. The Count
of Tivoli was evidently shocked by an announce-
ment he had so little expected; and after a pause
of a few moments, he said something to Francesco
in a voice which he endeavoured to render coldly
severe, but which was tremulous with the inward
emotions that he could not altogether subdue.
Avellino looked distressed as he glanced towards
me ; and I, at once fathoming the meaning of both
himself and the Count of Tivoli, hastened to ob-
serve, " Yes — I understand you ! In order to
avoid a disturbance within these walls, I will ac-
company the sbirri without the least attempt at
resistance."

Francesco grasped my hand, hurriedly whisperr
ing, "Ever magnanimous and self-sacrificing, my
dearest and best of friends !"

One of the police-officers at the same time put a
question to the Count, — evidently demanding his
further instructions. The nobleman hesitated for
a moment ; and then, as if suddenly making up
his mind, he said to the sbirri, " To the palace of
Cardinal Antonio Gravina."

" My friend Mr. Wilmot and I, my lord," said
Francesco, speaking in English so that I should
understand him, " will solemnly pledge ourselves
to proceed direct to the palace of his Eminence :
under these circumstances it will be offering us the
foulest affront to drag us through the streets like
felons."

" I should hope that my father," said the young
Viscount, " will not put faith in such as you !"

" Silence !" said the Count of Tivoli sternly,
thus addressing himself to his son. " Yes, Signor

164

JOSEPH WHMOT ; OB, THE MEMOIES OP A MAN-SEBVANT.

Avellino— yes, Mr. "Wiltnot— much and deeply as
I have reason to be angered againt you, yet I have
no inclination to push the matter to extremes ; and
therefore have I directed that you be taken into
the presence of the Cardinal instead of before the
magistrate. I accept your paroZe— depart— and
the officers of justice will follow at a suitable dis-
tance."

" I see, my lord," said Avellino, " that you pur-
pose to remain here — at least for a little while —
to have an interview with the Lady Antonia. I
beseech your lordship not to deal harshly with her
— or else within a few hours you may have no
daughter to become the object of your resent-
ment !"

The Count of Tivoli appeared to disdain a reply
to these words that were addressed to him with so
deep a pathos of entreaty ; and Francesco, hastily
passing his kerchief across his eyes, took my arm,
and we descended the stairs together. We passed
along the street in silence : for my companion was
absorbed in his own distressing feelings— and I had
not a syllable of consolation or of hope to impart.
An empty hackney-coach soon overtook us: we
entered it — and b&de the driver convey us to the
GravLna palace.

" Heaven grant that poor Antonia may survive
this bitter, bitter disappointment !" said Francesco,
at length breaking sUence : and his voice was so
mournful — Oh ! so full of the profoundest de-
spondency, that I felt the teai-s running down my
cheeks. "The calamity is immense — the blow is
terrific !"

"Of course," I said, "the Lady Antonia is
aware of the cause which alarmed you, and which
brought you forth from her apartment ?"

" Yes," rejoined Avellino : " and for the moment
she displayed the fortitude of a heroine — a forti-
tude of which I had scarcely expected her sensitive
nature to be capable — and all the less so as she is
enfeebled by illness. But, alas ! that courage will
not sustain itself — it is totally impossible — a re-
action will take place— she will be overwhelmed by
despair !"

Avellino covered his face with his hands; and
for several minutes remained silent and motionless.
His grief was too sacred to be intruded upon by
any remark of mine ; or else I longed to ask him
for what purpose he thought we were being taken
to the Gravina palace. This silence continued
until the vehicle stopped in front of the entrance
of the Cardinal's mansion. Almost immediately
the shirri were upon the spot : they exchanged a
few words with the porter at the gate ; and this
functionary conducted us all across a spacious
courtyard, into a waiting-room, where he left us.
The shirri grouped themselves in the window re-
cess — Avellino threw himself, like one who was
abandoned to despair, upon a seat in the corner—
and I, accosting him, could no longer prevent my-
self from beseeching that he would exercise a
manly control over his feelings. He only pressed
my hand — but said nothing. I sate down by his
side, and whispered in his ear such consolatory and
hopeful things as began gradually to suggest them-
selves to my mind.

" You could not have failed to notice," I said,
"ihat the Count of Tivoli did not appear to be so
embittered against us as we might have expected
to find him. He trusted to our parole — he re-

buked his son's spiteful and fiippant impertinence
— he has not handed us over to the civil power —
but seems inclined to leave us at the disposal of
one who can merely appeal to our feelings, but
who has not the authority to punish or coerce us.
Are not all these subjects worthy of your considera-
tion, my dear friend ?"

"Yes— indeed they are!" exclaimed Avellino,
suddenly starting from his deep and mournful
reverie. " It is unmanly of me to abandon myself

thus to despair 1 ought to feel inspired by my

beloved Antonia's fortitude ! Truly, it is strange
that the Count should have desired us to come
hither! I wonder that all which has just struck
you should not have occurred to me likewise : but
the calamity, falling like a thunderbolt upon my
head, well nigh deprived me of reason. You are
however wrong, my dear Wilmot, in supposing
that Cardinal Gravina has not authority to deal
with us. Know you not," proceeded Avellino, in
a deep solemn tone, " of the existence of a ter-
rible tribunal — a tribunal which still maintains its
power in defiance of the civilization of the nine-
teenth century — a tribunal of which," added
Francesco, in a stiU lower and deeper voice, " Car-
dinal Antonio Gravina is one of the supreme
functionaries ?"

" And that tribunal ?" I asked quickly.
' "The Inquisition!" was the fearful response.

CHAPTER CXI.

THE CABDIXAL.

Mt reading had certainly taught me that the tri-
bunal of the Inquisition existed in the Roman
States : but the fact had altogether escaped my
recollection for a long time past ; and never once
since my arrival in Rome — no, nor during my
entire sojourn in Italy, had I bethought myself of
a tribunal the very name of which, when now pro-
nounced by Avellino, was enough to make the
blood curdle in the veins. Not that there were
any of the worst features of the older Inquisitions
retained in the present one — not that there were
physical tortures with the rack, the thumbscrew,
the steel boot, the balanced balls beating against
the head, the horrible infliction of the cord and
pulley, or the question by water : but there were
fearful dungeons which might become living tombs
for the captives consigned to them, and immure-
ment in which was fraught with all those exqui-
site moral sufferings that rendered them earthly
pandemonia. Thus, no sooner was the name of
the dread tribunal breathed in my ear, than all
these ghastly associations came trooping through
my brain ; and I shuddered to the uttermost con-
fines of my being.

" Do you really suppose," I asked, in a subdued
and dismayed whisper, when I was sufficiently re-
covered to regain the faculty of speech, — " do you
really suppose that the Count of Tivoli would con-
sign us, through the medium of his daughter's
powerful godfather, to such a hideous fate as
that 7"

" My dear friend," replied Francesco, ''if I be
doomed to eternal separation from Antonia, it
becomes a matter of perfect indifference to me

JOSEPH WLIMOT; OS, THE MEMOIES OF A 5IAN-SEEVANT.

165

where I may pass what will assuredly prove a
brief remnant of a wretched existence. But for
you, Wilmot — on your account, my dearest friend,
I am now sorely distressed ! Not for worlds would
I have you suffer through all your noble generosity
towards Antonia and myself ! Besides," ex-
claimed Francesco, the animation of hope suddenly
appearing upon his features, " the whole truth
shall be proclaimed indeed, it is most pro-
bably already known to the Count : for Antonia
could not fail to tell her father, with enthusiastic
gratitude, how your purse succoured her during
her illness and her poverty — how nobly and how

delicately you behaved towards her ! and

thus for ymi, my dear friend, there is every hope !
Yes, yes — I see that there is ! — for the Count of
Tivoli, to do him justice, is an upright and an
honourable man — aye, and generous too, where
his prejudices and pride are not concerned. It
consoles me, my dear "Wilmot, to think that you
are certain to escape from any evil consequences of
your magnanimity : whereas, so far as I myself am
concerned, I repeat that it becomes a matter of
indifference what may be my doom."

The profound melancholy with which these last
words were spoken, contrasted most strangely and
most painfully with the animation that had marked
the utterance of all those reasons which the gene-
rous heart of Francesco had suggested for my
certain impunity.

"Why do you yield yourself to despair P" I
asked : " why do you not summon to your aid
that fortitude which on former occasions has in-
spired you, according to the incidents of the nar-
rative which you recited to me the other day?
Did you not ere now confess that it was unmanly
on your part to yield to despondency ? did you not
likewise admit that you ought to take example
from the Lady Antonia's own bearing ? For-
give me, Aveliino, for remonstrating with you
thus "

" Yes, yes, my dear friend, you are right !" said
Francesco, seizing my hand and pressing it
warmly : " I had forgotten those holy words which
you breathed in my ear the other day, when you
bade me recollect that it is often by incidents
seemingly the most calamitous, that Providence
works out its designs and leads everything on to a
happy issue. Yes ! — since I have recalled to mind
those truths which you uttered, and which, as you
assured me, have been illustrated by the experi-
ences of your own life, I feel strengthened and
soothed. You shall not have reason to blush for
your friend again, nor to reproach him for his
■weakness."

Nearly an hour passed during which Aveliino
and I were kept in the waiting-room aft^r our
arrival at the Gravina palace; and then we were
both summoned by a lacquey to another apart-
ment. This room was most sumptuously fur-
nished : but the draperies at the windows were so
heavy, and were rendered so massive with their
thick fringes of gold, as to exclude much of the
broad light of day ; so that the greater portion of
that spacious apartment was involved in ob-
scurity. The door was on one side of the obscurest
extremity ; and near it both Aveliino and myself
halted from a feeling of respect, when we beheld a
personage whom we knew to be the Cardinal him-
self half reclining upon a sofa placed against the

wall on the opposite side. When I say that we
knew him to be the Cardinal, I do not mean it to
be understood that I recognised him as one whom
I had beheld before — because never to my know-
ledge had I seen him at all : but it was by his
dress that I discovered his rank. Another indi-
vidual was in the room at the time we entered it ;
and this was the Count of Tivoli. His lordship
was seated in an arm-chair near the sofa whereon
the Cardinal was half-reclining : but the obscurity
of the apartment— or rather of that extremity of
it — prevented me from discerning the precise ex-
pression which the Count's features wore. As for
his Eminence, I could scarcely perceive his features
at all, on account of the ihanner in which his face
was shaded by a canopy with heavy draperies
which overhung the sofa where he lay.

" Sit down," said the Count of Tivoli, addressing
us both in the French language : and throughout
the interview it was in this tongue that the discourse
was carried on — because it was known to me, and
because while I on the one hand was ignorant of
Italian, Cardinal Gravina on the other hand was
unacquainted with English.

Francesco and I placed ourselves in chairs near
the threshold where we had stopped short on
entering that apartment ; and for upwards of a
minute there was a solemn silence, — a silence
fraught with no small degree of suspense for us
both. At length it was broken ; and it was the
Count of Tivoli who commenced speaking.

" I have had an interview with my daughter,"
he said, in a grave but melancholy voice : " it was
necessarily a short one, inasmuch as I was com-
pelled to hasten hither for the purpose of submitting
aU the circumstances to the wisdom of my august
friend, his Eminence Cardinal Gravina. My
daughter has told me everything : whatsoever
faults she may have committed, and however grave
those faults may be, yet well aware am I that her
Ups are incapable of giving utterance to aught but
the truth. I have learnt, Mr. Wilmot, under what
circumstances you brought her to Home ? I have
therefore done you much wrong — but my suspicions
were natural, and would have misled the wisest
and the most far-seeing. Have patience while I
enter upon a few details. Upon receiving the in-
telligence of my daughter's flight from the con-
vent where his Eminence the Cardinal placed her
about a year back, I proceeded thither to institute
inquiries : but I could learn nothing beyond the
mere fact of her flight. I prosecuted those in-
quiries in several directions ; and I at length dis-
covered, from a postilion who drove your chaise,
Mr. Wilmot, during one of the last stages of your
journey, that you were accompanied by a young
lady who seemed fearful of being observed and
recognised. Other little incidents evolved them-
selves to convince me that this young lady was my
daughter ; and I acquired the certainty that you
had brought her to Kome— but I failed to discover
whither you had borne her, or where she had taken
up her abode. I could not help thinking that you
were an older friend of Signor Aveliino than you
had chosen to admit when you first presented
yourself to me : I thought likewise that you had
planned and aided my daughter's escape from the
convent, and that your visits to my mansion were
purposed only to ascertain whether I suspected the
truth so that you might report accordingly to Sig-

168

JOSBPH WIIMOT ; OB, THE MEMOIBS OF A SUIC-SEEVAKT

nor Avellino. Such were my impressions : and
they were natural enough. You cannot therefore
wonder that I passed you coldly in the street, or
that I should eyen have made up my mind to await
an opportunity for inflicting punishment upon you.
But I strongly deprecated my son's subsequent
violence— and still more his folly in summoning you
before the legal authorities."

The Count of Tivoli paused for a few moments,
and then resumed in the following manner : —

" I did not for a moment imagine that you con-
tinued to be a visitor at whatsoever place my
daughter had taken up her abode : it was there-
fore upon Signer Avellino's movements that I em-
ployed police-agents to institute an espial. How-
ever, I am extending my explanations beyond the
limit which I had purposed : and yet if I enter
thus into detail, it is that I may the better excuse
myself for the injustice which you, Mr. Wilmot,
have experienced at the hands of myself and my
son. My daughter has told me everything — the
circumstances under which you brought her to
Eome — the mystery with which she enshrouded
herself — the delicacy of your conduct towards her
— then the noble generosity which you displayed
on learning that she was ill and in distress — and
the fact that until yesterday you remained in
ignorance of who she really was. That when acci-
dentally learning this secret, and having been pre-
viously made aware of Signor Avellino's attach-
ment for my daughter, you should have thought
to befriend those with whom, at your age, you
might naturally sympathize — cannot be held as a
very great crime in the estimation of a just and
reasonable man. At all events, I owe you so much
reparation for the injustice done you by myself
and my son — and I owe you so much gratitude for
your magnanimous as well as humane and delicate
conduct towards my daughter — that I dare not for
another instant suffer your interference on Signor
Avellino's behalf to weigh with me prejudicially
against you. I therefore hope, Mr. Wilmot, that
all the past will be on both sides forgotten f "

" "With pleasure, my lord !" I exclaimed : " and
truly delighted am I that I no longer stand as an
object of suspicion in your eyes."

" Signor Avellino," resumed the Count of Tivoli,
now addressing himself to my friend, " your own
conduct must be viewed in a more favourable light
since I have learnt everything from the lips of
my daughter. 'Now that I find you were in no
way privy to her escape from the convent — nor
even the instigator thereof — but that until yester-
day you were in total ignorance of everything that
had occurred, I cannot continue to feel that same
animosity which led me to set shirri upon your
track and provoke your arrest. I will even admit
that it was natural enough for a young man to
avail himself of the opportunity of obtaining an
interview with the young lady whom he loves, and
who for his sake alone has placed herself in a most
peculiar position. But let me give you a few words
of explanation as to my motive in deciding that
yourself and Mr. Wilmot should be brought to
the palace of his Eminence. I knew not whether
a secret marriage might not have been solemnized
between my daughter and yourself: I knew no-
thing— I could discover nothing — until the police-
agents traced you just now to that obscure street
where I at length found my daughter. It fortu-

nately happened that my son and myself were at
home when the intimation was hurriedly sent off
that you had secreted yourself in that poor coffee-
house— that Mr. Wilmot had just been seen in the
same street — and that there was consequently every
reason to hope the search was upon the point of
proving successful. Accompanied by my son, I
sped into that neighbourhood : but I repeat that
until I had seen my daughter and learnt everything
from her lips, I was in total ignorance of how
matters really stood. Therefore on falling in with
you, I had to provide against any contingency
that might possibly come to my knowledge ; and
hence my command that you should be brought
to the palace of his Eminence, on whose wisdom I
purposed to throw myself, and according to whose
judgment I vowed that my own decision should be
given. From aU that I have said — from all the
circumstances which have come to my knowledge —
you can be at no loss to imderstand, Signor Avel-
lino, that I think far better of you than I did
before. Indeed, I must confess that the great fault
is my daughter's — and the greatest amount of
blame must rest with her. She has taken a step
which threatens her reputation with ruin : — to this
fact I cannot blind myself. I am bound likewise
to acknowledge that I have been moved by her
entreaties and her tears — moved also by the evi-
dences of that fond, devoted, imchanging love
which you bear for each other ; and I can no longer
shut my eyes to the truth that Antonia's happi-
ness depends upon an alliance with yourself. I
am now speaking frankly, as a father and as a man
of the world. Por my own part, I am at length
willing to waive what may be a prejudice ■"

'• No, not a prejudice," interposed Cardinal An-
tonio Gravina, now speaking for the first time
during the interview which had already lasted
nearly an hour.

" That observation of his Eminence," said the
Count of Tivoli, in a tone which was deeply mourn-
ful, " proclaims to you, Signor Avellino, the nature
of the one obstacle which now bars your hopes of
an union with my daughter. Henceforth neither
yourself nor Mr. "Wilmot must regard me as a
stern implacable parent. I give my assent,"
continued the Count, with much emotion, '•' so far
as the matter rests with me : but I have promised
that Antonia shall never marry save and except
with the consent of his Eminence, her godfather —
and that pledge on my part must be faithfully
kept. I have entreated his Eminence — I have
reasoned with him — and alas ! have failed to move
him ! But he agreed that this interview should
take place in his presence ; and I am not therefore
altogether without the hope that he wiU yet in
his na|ural generosity suffer himself to be moved.
I have now no more to say : it is for you, Signor
Avellino, to endeavour to win the assent of his
Eminence."

" S"o," said the Cardinal sternly, " not a word
from Signor AveUino's lips ! Listen. It is true
that I gave my permission for this interview and
all these explanations to take place in my presence.
But wherefore ? You, Count of Tivoli, appear
not fully to have understood my motive. It was
not that I might place myself in the position of
one who wished to be entreated or implored that
he might either grant or refuse a particular thing
according to that alternative which would afford

JOSEPH WILirOT ; OE, THE MEMOLRS OJ? A MAIT-SEHVANT.

167

him the greater satisfaction : but it was because I
would not have you, my lord, incur the risk of
being accused of harshness towards your daughter
by this young man, her suitor, after you had ex-
pressly assured me that you were willing to give
your assent to their alliance. It is therefore a
sacrifice of my own feelings which I am making
for your lordship's sake ; and whatsoever justice
there may be (if any) in an accusation of harsh-
ness, tyranny, or cruelty in proclaiming a refusal,
it is I who will bear the brunt of all this. My
decision is pronounced — the Lady Antonia must
go back to her convent ! And now not another

word but let these young men withdraw !"

" Oh, my Lord Cardinal !" exclaimed Fran-
cesco, in a voice of most earnest appeal, " I be-
seech your Eminence "

" Silence ! — my judgment is pronounced !" in-
terrupted Antonio Gravina in the sternest voice.
" Hush ! no more !" said the Count of Tivoli,
advancing hurriedly towards Avellino and myself :
" it is useless as well as indecorous to reason any
farther with his Eminence. Deeply, deeply,
under all circumstances do I deplore the issue of
this interview — but it cannot be altered. My
word is pledged to his Eminence — and it must be
fulfilled ! Let there be no more rancour between
us, Avellino !— -And you, my dear Mr. Wilmot,
accept my hand as a proof that we are again

friends ! AVhat ! the left hand ?" ejaculated the

Count, starting back and drawing himself up
haughtily.

"Pardon me, my lord," I said— "but I am
wounded."

" By the Saints it is bo !" exclaimed the Count :
" your right arm is in a sling ! Why — how is
this, that I did not notice it before ?"

"I mentioned that I was maimed, my lord," I

said, " when your son ere now threatened "

" But in the excitement of the moment," inter-
rupted the Count, " I perceived it not. How hap-
pened this P"

" Last night, my lord," I rejoined, " there was
a desperate outrage committed in a bye-
street "

" Ah !" ejaculated the Cardinal, suddenly rais-
ing himself to a sitting posture on the sofa.
" Was it you, young man— yo««, Joseph Wilmot

But your name as my brave defender was not

previously mentioned to me "

" Is it possible ?" I cried : and then, as a sud-
den reminiscence flashed vividly in unto my
mind, I sprang forward, exclaiming, " A boon, my
Lord Cardinal !— a boon I implore — nay, demand
at your hands 1"

" A boon ?" echoed the high prelate, evidently
smitten with the bitterest vexation at having be-
trayed the secret that it was he whom I had suc-
coured on the preceding evening.

" Yes — a boon, my lord 1" I repeated with fervid
excitement. "Your Eminence has vowed that what-
soever boon I might demand at your hand "

" Mr. Wilmot, you must be mad !" interrupted
the Count of Tivoli, who comprehended not a
single tittle of all this. " The excitement of to-
day's scenes — perhaps the loss of blood, too,

through the wound which you have received "

" No, my lord," I cried, " my brain is not
turned— my reason is not affected, as you appeiar to
imagine. I appeal to his Eminence—"

" Yes," said the Cardinal, " this young gentle-
man speaks truly enough. The outrage of last
night has been hushed up as much as possible by
my special command : but in justice to myself I
must explain to you wherefore. I was returning
from the tribunal of the Inquisition, where a secret
examination had been taking place : I was unat-
tended— on foot — and also in disguise. My path
lay through a neighbourhood but little famed for its
morality : it was there that I was attacked— it was
there that this young gentleman displayed his chi-
valrous valour — it was there that he received his
wound in my defence. You can now comprehend
why it was my wish to shroud the transaction from
the public knowledge, and why Mr. Wilmot him-
self would have remained ignorant of the name
and rank of him whom he succoured, were it not
that a most singular combination of circumstances
has thus brought us face to face."

" But was not your Eminence aware of the
name of your defender ?" inquired the Count of
Tivoli, in astonishment at all he had just heard.

" No : it had not been communicated to me,"
responded the Cardinal: "but no doubt in the
course of this day I should have learnt it, through
a certain channel with which Mr. Wilmot is evi«
dently acquainted. Do not think ill of me, my
dear Count," continued his Eminence, "if I kept
the circumstance unknown even to yourself: but
so much scandal has of late years fallen upon the
dignitaries of the Church, that it is impossible to

exercise too much caution and moreover, there

was the fear that the real truth of my tale might
be unjustly suspected "

"At least not by me, my lord!" responded the
Count of Tivoli, who seemed to be somewhat hurt
at so much want of confidence on the part of his
august friend. "The character of your Eminence
stands high above all suspicion ; and a single word
from your lips carries conviction with it."

" Thank you, my excellent friend," said the
Cardinal warmly, " for these assurances on your
part. Give me your hand — and be not offended
with me. You can now understand, perhaps,
wherefore I received you in this darkened room,
and why I chose that all these proceedings should
take place here. My forehead yet bears the marks
of last night's rough treatment "

" Oh, my lord ! if I had known it," exclaimed
the Count of Tivoli, " I should ha*e indeed felt
delicate in intruding so much upon your presence
and your time this day. But here is Mr. Wilmot
waiting for the response of your Eminence."

" You crave a boon at my hands, Mr. Wilmot,"
said the Cardinal ; " and I remember well — in fact,
it would be most xmgeneroua not to reiterate the
full extent of the promise which I this morning
conveyed to you — that whatsoever boon you might
ask that is consistent with my honour and dignity
to grant "

" My lord," I said, sinking on one knee in front
of the sofa, " I beseech your Eminence to yield
your assent to the marriage of Francesco Avellino
and the Count of Tivoli's daughter !"

"You unhesitatingly risked your life for me,
brave and excellent young man," said Antonio
Gravina : " and I therefore dare not hesitate a
single moment in granting the boon which you so-
licit. It is accorded ! Signer Avellino, kneel and
receive my blessing !"

r

168

JOSEPH WILMOTj OE, THE MEMOIHS OP A MAN-SEETANT.

As I rose up from my suppliant posture at the
feet of the Cardinal, Francesco for an instant
caught my hand and pressed it with a most
grateful fervour : he then sank down upon his
knees— and the Cardinal solemnly invoked heaven's
blessings upon his head.

CHAPTEE CXII.

HAPPINESS.

Within five minutes from the conclusion of this
scene of mingled excitement and solemnity, I was
being whirled along in the Count of. Tivoli's own
carriage to the house where Antonia lodged. I
was the sole occupant of the interior of the vehicle :
my heart was literally bounding with joy — I was
charged with one of the pleasantest missions that
I had ever in my life undertaken. "When the equi-
page entered the obscure street in that poor neigh-
bourhood, it did not drive up to the door of the house
itself, — because its presence there might either have
been regarded as a revelation of that which was
to be broken cautiously— or on the other hand it
might be taken as a sign for the prompt removal
of the young lady to quarters where she would be
completely separated from Francesco for ever.

On alighting from the carriage, I proceeded to
the house ; and ascending to the Blanchards'
room, found the worthy mechanic and his wife
in earnest and mournful deliberation upon those
incidents which had occurred about two hours
back. These incidents had revealed to them who
the young lady was, and had given them a toler-
able insight into the circumstances of her position.
I was now enabled to relieve them from all ap-
prehension : and in a few hasty words I explained
the good tidings which I had brought for An-
tonia. I learnt that her interview with her
father had left her full of anxious hope, mingled
however with many fears ; for though he had
Boftened considerably towards her after receiving
her frank explanations, he had left her without
any hint as to the course which under those altered
circumstances he might be inclined to adopt.
The reader has seen that he had considered him-
eelf bound to q^nsult Cardinal Gravioa and leave
the final decision in the hands of his Eminence :
and no doubt entertaining a misgiving as to what
that decision might be, the Count had not dared
hold forth to his daughter a hope which might
not be realized.

I requested Mrs. Blanchard to accompany me
at once into the young lady's presence ; and we
nccordingly proceeded to the invalid chamber. I
found Antonia seated in the arm-chair ; and the
lastant that I made my appearance, her eyes
glistened with a wild excitement — she endeavoured
to speak, but could not — she would have sprung
up from her seat, but she sank back exhausted,
palpitating and gasping with the agitation of her
feelings. Nevertheless, there was far more of
hopefulness than of apprehension in her looks:
for in the first place the fact that I was no longer
in custody struck her as a presage of good tidings
— and in the second place the expression of my
countenance was by no means calculated to send
a chill to her heart.

" Lady," I said, " I come as the messenger
from your noble father— the bearer of his forgive-
ness for all that has occurred. Yes— I am here to
assure you that the home where you once dwelt
happily, is now open to you again — and — and-^—

But you must compose your feelings ■"

"Oh, speak, Mr. "Wilmot!" exclaimed Antonia:
" anything is better than suspense ! My father

forgives me "

"And henceforth, lady," I went on to say, "he
will study to promote your happiness."

" Oh, is it possible ?" she murmured : " dare I
entertain the wild— the thrilling— the almost fren-

zied hope "

" Cherish every hope, lady," I answered ; " and
believe that your cares and your afflictions are
approaching their end !"

" Do you mean, Mr. Wilmot — Oh ! do you
mean "

" I mean, signora, that there is nothing now to
sadden or distress you : I mean," I continued,
" that the clouds which hung upon your head have
become suddenly dissipated: I mean that your
noble father and the Lord Cardinal But I be-
seech you to compose yourself! they have given

their assent — and every barrier to your happiness
is removed !"

Antonia clasped her hands in fervid gratitude to
heaven : there was for a moment the thrill of
ecstatic excitement visibly quivering through her
half-reclining form ; and then she became suddenly
motionless — her eyes bent downward — but with
the tears trickling slowly upon her cheeks. It was
evident that she felt she dared not give way too
much to that sense of happiness which my words
had infused into her soul ; and I could even fancy
that she said within herself, " I must remain pro-
foundly tranquil, for at least a few minutes, in
order to grow accustomed to a bliss which is so
strange to me, and which even still appears to be
naught but a delightful vision that the least move-
ment— the faintest sigh — or a word spoken above
a whisper, will in a moment destroy !"

And there was a pause of several minutes. At
length I thought it better to break gently upon
this silence, and to say something which should
convince the young lady that it was indeed no
vision in which she was beatifically cradling herself,
but that it was a real and veritable happiness in
which she might indulge, though but a few hours
back so immeasurably remote &om her antici-
pation.

"Tour noble father. Lady Antonia," I said,
speaking gently and guardedly, " honoured me by
selecting me as his messenger to bear all this wel-
come intelligence. He was pleased to say that it
is a reward which I merited — and I can assnre
your ladyship that the mission thus confided to
me, is one of the happiest it has ever been my for-
tune to accomplish."

Antonia extended her hand; and for a single
moment I raised it to my lips : for it was a true
fraternal feeling which I experienced towards the
young lady ;— and with my heart full of the image
of Annabel, as her's was of Avellino, I might be
permitted to look upon the Count of Tivoli's
daughter in the light of a sister, or of a friend in
whose welfare circumstances had rendered me
deeply interested. And now I explained to her all
that had occurred at the Gravina palace ; and she

JOSEPH WLLilOX ; OE, THE MEMOIES OF A MAN-SEEVANT.

1G9

listened with the profoundest attention. I next
spoke of her removal to the paternal home ; and I
ventured to suggest that she had hetter continue
to occupy her present apartment until to-morrow,
so that in the interval she might compose her feel-
ings after the excitement she had experienced,
and thereby guard against a relapse. She as-
sented. I then told her that her father purposed
to come in the evening and pass an hour with her,
when he would make arrangements for her return
to the Tivoli palace on the morrow. Over and
over again did she express her deep gratitude to-
wards rae for all the kind interest I had shown and
was still showing on her hehalf : and when I was
about to take my departure, she said, hesitatingly
and diffidently, "But all this while, Mr. Wilmot,
you have not spoken of my brother ?"

The tears again trickled down her cheeks ; and
after a brief pause, she went on to say, " He ac-
companied my father just now — after that dreadful

• 74.

j scene on the staircase : he upbraided me bitterly
: and it was even with difficulty that my father's
I authority availed to impose silence upon him. In-
deed, my father insisted that he should leave this
room and return home, while I gave those expla-
nations which I at once and in all candour volun-
I teered to make. Ah 1 Mr. "Wilmot, it will be a
drawback to my happiness if my brother should
look coldly upon me — still more so if he should
' treat Francesco slightingly !"
I "Fear not, lady," I answered. "The Count
I went straight from the Gravina palace to his own
! mansion, in order to impart to your brother every-
thing that had taken place ; and I think I know
enough of the young Viscount to be enabled to
I judge that he is so completely the creature of im-

I pulses pardon me for speaking thus of your

brother "

I " Oh ! but your words, Mr. "Wilmot," exclaimed
I Antonia, " are replete with consolation I Yes— ho

170

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OE, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SEBVAUT.

ts the creature of impulses; and it is therefore

possible he may exhibit a noble generosity "

" At all events, lady," I interjected, " he is
bound to be submissive to his father's will ; and
when be finds that the Count's determination is
fixed in a particular sense, he will see the inutility
of offering any farther opposition. East assured
that your noble parent will be enabled to give you
some cheering intelligence on this subject when he
visits your ladyship in the evening."

I then took my departure, and returned to my
hotel — where I found Francesco Avellino awaiting
my presence. I was now so overcome by exhaus-
tion, after the excitement of the last few hours,
that I was compelled at once to seek my couch :
but Avellino sate by the side thereof, listening to
all I had to impart relative to my interview with
Antonia. I then enjoyed a sweet and refreshing
sleep for several hours ; and when I awoke, I
found Francesco still by my bedside. He re-
mained with me until an advanced period of the
night— paying me all possible attentions; and it
was even with difficulty he could be persuaded
to leave me at length to the care of the nurse,
and return to his own home.

I kept my bed throughout the following day ;
and my medical attendant insisted that I should
be left as tranquil as possible, for fear lest the
excitement I had gone through should lead to
evil consequences. Avellino visited me several
times : but Saltcoats and the Dominie were
rigidly excluded. I learnt that the Lady Antonia
was so much better she was enabled to bear re-
moval to the Tivoli palace, and that between two
and three in the afternoon she had once more
crossed the threshold of the paternal home. I was
furthermore informed that the young Viscount
had suddenly shown himself in the most amiable
colours — and that of his own accord he had be-
sought Avellino to fling a veU over the past. I
need scarcely add that my generous-hearted friend
gave a suitable response.

On the following day I was so much better as
to be enabled to receive the Dominie and Mr.
Saltcoats — and likewise a visit from the Count and
Viscount of Tivoli. The elder nobleman embraced
me with as much afi'ectionate warmth as if I were
his son — declaring that I had proved an instru-
ment in the hands of heaven, to bring back hap-
piness into his house, and to open his eyes to the
tyranny as well as the folly of the course he had
previously pursued in respect to his daughter.
The Viscount accosted me with an air of cordial
frankness so evidently genuine that I could not
possibly suspect its sincerity : and he expressed to
me the same hope which he had already breathed
to Avellino— namely, that whatsoever unpleasant
belonged to the past might be forgiven and for-
gotten. The two noblemen remained with me for
about an hour ; and when taking their departure,
they expressed a hope that I should be well enough
on the morrow to dine at the Tivoli palace, — the
Count volunteering to send his carriage for me.
Avellino came to me again in the evening : indeed,
he evidently felt that he could scarcely display a
sufficient friendly assiduity on my behalf. He
told me that the Blanchards were placed, by the
Count of Tivoli's bounty, in a position of complete
independence for the remainder of their lives; and
that they had therefore every reason to bless the

day when obedient to the promptings of their own
generous natures, they had shown kindness to one
who at the time appeared to be an utterly un-
friended young lady, but whose angel-presence had
brought joy and bliss to them as the reward and as
the result,

"And now, my dear Wilmot," said Francesco,
" I cannot possibly help referring once more to the
prophetic words which you uttered when you bade
me recollect that those incidents which at the time
appear calamities, may prove in the long run to
have been the means by which heaven works out
its own wise purposes. Your sufferings, my dear
friend, have proved the source of all this happiness
to me : the wound which you received in defence
of Cardinal Grravina, was destined to serve as the
talisman to that assent without which I never
could have entered into the elysium of feeling
which I now enjoy."

TTe conversed together for some time in this
strain ; and if it were somewhat a solemn one, it*
was nevertheless fraught with satisfaction and hap-
piness for us both.

The nest day my health was so considerably im-
proved that I received the physician's consent to
accept the invitation to the Tivoli palace. The
young Viscoutit called upon me, bringing fruits
and flowers from his father's conservatories ; and I
failed not to recognise a feminine taste in the
manner in which the bouquets were arranged. It
was a delicate tribute of Antonia's gratitude ; and
I was delighted to learn from her brother that she
was almost completely convalescent. Dominie
Clackmannan and Mr. Saltcoats entered my cham-
ber while the young Viscount was with me : he
immediately recognised them as the friends who
had stood forward on my behalf during the exami-
nation before the magistrate : he shook them both
by the hand with a marked cordiality ; and when
they rose to leave me, he accompanied them from
the room.

By a quarter to six o'clock my evening toilet
was completed : but I was still compelled to retain
my arm in a sling. A waiter announced that the
Count of Tivoli's carriage was in attendance; and
on entering the chariot, I was infinitely astonished
on finding two persons already installed there.
But the phrase of "It's just that," from the lips
of one, and a boisterous peal of merriment from
those of the other, left me not another instant in
doubt who my companions were. It appeared that
the young Viscount had most cordially pressed
them to share with me the hospitalities of the
Tivoli palace that evening; and this explanation of
their presence in the carriage elicited another
burst of merriment from the lips of Mr. Saltcoats,
and reminded the Dominie of something he had
said to the Widow Glenbucket, but which some-
thing it turned out that he could not for the life
of him remember.

We arrived at the Tivoli palace ; and I should
observe that whereas Mr. Saltcoats was clothed all
in gray on ordinary occasions, he was now dressed
in a full costume of black ; while the Dominie, in-
stead of his gaiters, wore black silk stockings. We
were conducted into a brilliantly lighted saloon,
where we were cordially welcomed by the Count
and his son. Avellino was likewise there; and the
beauteous Antonia, looking infinitely better than I
could possibly have expected to find her, though

JOSEPH WIX-MOT; OE, THB MBMOHtS OP A SIAK-SKBVAITT.

171

necessarily somewhat weak and feeble, rose from
her chair to greet us. It was a scene of perfect
happiness ; and nothing could exceed the well-bred
good nature which the Count displayed when
listening to the platitudes of the Dominie or to Mr.
galtcoat's history of the spoilt plum-pudding. In
respeot to the young Viscount, it was by no means
difficult to perceive that his change of mood might
be attributed to the very selfishness and egotism
of his character : for I regret to be compelled to
state that of natural magnanimity he had none.
He was a young man of impulses : where he con-
ceived a prejudice, he would act under its in-
fluence— as was exemplified in his conduct to-
wards Francesco Ayellino ; but if circumstances
transpired to divest bim of this prejudice by
making it better ^vorth bis while to pursue an
opposite course, he would with equal readiness fall
into the same. Thus, at the very instant he per-
ceived that the tables were all completely turned —
that his sister was to be forgiven, that Avellino
was to be recognised as her intended bridegroom,
and that I myself was to be received back again
into the Count's arms of friendship — the young
Viscount at once recognised the folly of standing
moodily aloof and sulkily rebelling against that
paternal will which he could not for a single
instant control and which would operate in spite
of him: and thus he yielded at once to the
exigency of the circumstances, and endeavoured
to carry off all the past by putting as good a face
as possible upon the present. His cordiality
towards us, therefoye, was not the less sincere or
genuine <";: that account : indeed he was evidently
disposed to be as kind towards his sister and as
friendly towards Avellino and myself, as he had
previously been bitter and hostile. But what I
want the reader to understand, is that this change
in the young maa's sentiments and deportment
with regard to us, emanated not from a true lofti-
ness of spirit, but from the simple fact that it was
utterly useless for him to hold out ia the mainte-
nance of a different attitude.

In the course of the evening the Count of
Tivoli took an opportunity of drawing me apart,
and saying a few words in familiar and confiden-
tial discourse.

" Immediately after the incidents of the
Gravina palace," observed his lordship, " I wrote
a letter to a friend of mine at Civita Vecchia,
making certain inquiries in respect to Signor
Avellino. Ifot that I had any doubt in respect to
his own version of the manner in which he dealt
with his late father's creditors : but at the same
time you can understand, my dear Mr. "Wilmot,
that it was more satisfactory to me as Antonia's
parent, to receive the fullest and completest cor-
roboration of everything which tended to the
honour and credit of him who is to be my son-in-
law. I this morning received a reply to my com-
munication; and you may judge by the reception
which I gave to Signor Avellino that the intelli-
gence was pre-eminently gratifying. It is true,
my young friend, that Francesco's conduct was
most noble : he might have remained rich if he
had chosen to leave his father's honour tarnished
— but he rendered himself comparatively po<)r in
order to establish the posthumous reputation of
the author of his being. Deeply, deeply do I
regret that I should ever have suffered a patrician

prejudice to overrule my appreciation of the merits
of this excellent young man! But we cannot be-
come wise on certain points all in a moment ; and
even the oldest of us have fresh experiences to
learn in the world's affairs."

'•' It delights me," I observed, " to hear your
lordship speak thus handsomely of Avellino, and
thus frankly of yourself."

" It will be my care," proceeded the Count of
Tivoli, " to make up to Francesco that deficiency
of fortune which arose from his admirable conduct
in respect to his deceased father's creditors : for I
shall bestow as munificent a dowry upon Antonia
as becomes the family to which she belongs and
the wealth of her father. By the bye, I am re-
minded that I was charged by Cardinal Gravina
with a message for you : he requests your pre-
sence at his palace to-morrow at two o'clock, as he
has something to say to youj — and therefore I
hope you will make it convenient to keep the ap-
pointment?"

I promised to attend to the Count's intimation;
and I need iay no more in respect to this particu-
lar evening than that it was passed ia a most
agreeable and pleasant manner.

On the following day, punctually at two o'clock,
I presented myself at the Gravina palace, and was
immediately ushered into the presence of the Car-
dinal, whom I found seated in a small but ex-
quisitely furnished apartment, which evidently
served him as r. private retiring room, correspond-
ing in respect to his own sex with what the boudoir
is to ladies of rank or wealth — a privacy, indeed,
to which only near relatives or most valued
friends are admitted. His Eminence received mo
most kindly, and renewed the expression of his
gratitude for the succour I had lent him on the
occasion of the attack by the robbers. Luncheon
was served up : it was a choice and elegant repast ;
and the Cardinal did the hospitalities of his table
as if he had known me for several years instead of
but for a few days. He inquired in the most de-
licate manner whether he could possibly bo of
service to me in any shape or way : but I assured
his Eminence that I was already more than re-
compensed for whatsoever little service I might
have done him, by the assent which he had given
to the union of his god-daughter the Lady
Antonia de Tivoli with my friend Francesco
Avellino.

" I am one of those men," observed the Cardi-
nal, " who do not perform things by halves. Per-
haps, under different circumstances, I never should
have assented to this alliance ; and therefore I do
not wish to take unto myself a greater amount of
merit than I positively deserve. But, on the
other hand, my assent being once given, is now
cordially and warmly afforded ; and I will do
everything I cau for the welfare of the young
couple. I have long destined Antonia as my
heiress : I am rich — I have not long to remain in
this world — and I may as well bestow at the pre-
sent moment some part of that which would other-
wise soon devolve in that quarter. But Antonia
will receive a handsome dowry from her father;
and it is not suitable that a husband should be
altogether enriched by means of his wife. There-
fore L have determined that the matrimonial gift
which I am now making, shall be to Francesco
Avellino himself. This packet, Mr. Wilmot, coa-

172

JOSEPH WIIMOT; OE, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAK-SEEVANT.

tains the necessary documents, which my notary
has drawn up, for the settlement of a considerable
sum upon Avellino. Here is another packet;
and you will perceive that it is sealed with the
pontifical arms— the Eeys of St. Peter surmounted
with a mitre-crown. But I must explain the ob-
ject of this second packet. You are aware — indeed
you have perhaps already seen too much of those
prejudices which exist in Italy generally, and in
theEoman States especially, with regard to patri-
cian or plebeian birth. A title of nobility, how-
ever, at once supersedes that prejudice in respect
to the latter; and indifferent though your friend
Avellino may be to such titular distinction, I ask
as a favour that he will not reject that title of
Count which, at my intercession, his Holiness the
Pope has been pleased to confer. Perhaps, Mr.
Wilmot, you will have no objection to become the
bearer of these two documents ?"

" On the contrary, my lord," I answered ; " it
will give me the most unfeigned delight — and I
thank your Eminence for confiding to me a mis-
sion which you foresaw would give me this plea-
sure."

Scarcely had I done speaking, when the door
opened, and a strange-looking individual made his
appearance upon the threshold. He was a man of
about eighty : he carried in his hand a large
clerical hat — he wore a black silk scull- cap, beneath
the edge of which peeped forth his thin white
hairs, having the effect of a silver fringe for that
sable cap. He was attired in a black ecclesiastical
costume of a peculiar fashion : he was of the middle
height, somewhat stoutly built ; and though he
stooped with the weight of years, yet ho walked
with ease and even agility. His complexion was
sallow : deep lines were traced across his forehead
and about the eyes and lips : his features were
angular, though in a more youthful period the
profile must have been eminently handsome ; and
the general expression of the countenance was a
combination of austerity, authority, and a sense
of pious humiliation, if the reader can understand
how all these could be thus blended.

This personage entered without any ceremony,
as if he had the privilege of admission at pleasure
into the Cardinal's presence. But on perceiving
that his Eminence was not alone, the visitor
stopped short; and at tho same time the Cardinal
rose and bowed with the profoundest respect. At
once convinced that the austere-looking personage
must be one of no mean rank or consequence, that
a dignitary so highly placed as a Cardinal should
thus salute him with a reverential deference, — I
likewise rose from my seat. The ecclesiastical
visitor pronounced the usual blessing : the Cardi-
nal said something in Italian, which I could com-
prehend sufficiently to discern that it was a re-
spectful invitation to be seated ; — and the old man
accordingly took a chair. I was now about to
depart : but the Cardinal made a sign for ma to
remain. The elegant repast was still upon the
table : Cardinal Gravina invited the visitor to par-
take of refreshments ; and I now perceived that
the latter was also addressed as " your Eminence."
I wondered who he could possibly be. For an in-
stant, on observing the Cardinal's reverential salu-
tation, I had fancied that the austere-looking old
man must be the Pope himself: but a second
thought told mo that the Sovereign-Pontiff would

not be thus dressed ; — and now that titular apella-
tion of "your Eminence" instead of "your Holi-
ness," convinced me that this was not the Pope.
But the lerm " Eminence," I thought, was only
applied to Cardinals; and assuredly the visitor
was not a Cardinal — for he wore not the dress of
a member of the Sacred College. Then who could
he possibly be ?

In response to Cardinal Gravina's invitation
that he would partake of some refreshment, tho
visitor broke off a small fragment from a roll, and
filled himself a tumbler of water : he evidently
only took this frugal luncheon in order to avoid
what might seem an ungracious refusal to break
bread at that hospitable table. Cardinal Gravina
renewed the conversation in French, so that I
might understand it ; and he began discoursing on
general topics. The visitor spoke the same
language with the utmost fluency, though I did
not think he was a Frenchman : his manner was
well-bred and courteous, though permeated with
an unvarying solemnity. On being informed that
I was an Englishman, and was on a visit of plea-
sure to Eome, the " venerable father" — (for by this
title as well as "Eminence" was the old man ad-
dressed by the Cardinal) at once began conversing
with me in the English tongue; and I was aston-
ished at the fluency, the accuracy, and the admi-
rable taste with which he spoke it. He saw that
I was thus surprised ; and as a smile for a single
moment relaxed the austere compression of his
thin lips, he gave me to understand in a mild and
even modest manner, without the slightest tinge
of vanity or ostentation, that he spoke seven or
eight languages with equal facility — but that he
himself was a native of Holland. He inquired
what buildings, institutions, and places of resort,
I had visited ; and on receiving my answers,
he expatiated with the nicest critical taste
and the soundest judgment upon the various
pieces of architecture, the paintings, and the statues
which had come within my notice. I was pleased
with his conversation — and should have been fas-
cinated, were it not that his language, his tone,
and his manner conveyed the idea that he kept his
mind incessantly under the yoke of self-
humiliation, or mortification. The interview lasted
nearly an hour — when the old man rose to take
his departure — in doing which he laid his hand for
an instant upon my head as he gave me his bless-
ing ; and Cardinal Gravina followed him as far as
the threshold of the door.

" I kept you on purpose, Mr. "Wilmot," said
the Cardinal, when we were once more alone to-
gether, " that you might have an opportunity of
studying, so far as was possible in so short a time
one of the most remarkable men of the present
age. Without being one of the recognised sove-
reigns of the world, he nevertheless wields a power
which is more or less felt in every corner of the
earth — a power which though often unseen and un-
known, nevertheless makes itself felt in the councils
of Ministers and in the cabinets of Princes — a power
which is exercised through the secret instrumen-
tality of blindly obedient agents. In all countries
— the savage as well as the civilised, the remote
as well as the near — there are subjects of the reign-
ing monarcli of those nations who yield an occult
and implicit submission to the decrees or the in-
structions forwarded to them from that venerable

JOSEPH 'WIIMOT ; OE, THB JTEMOIKS 0? A MAN-SERTAUT.

173

old man who has just quitted our presence.
He has bis viceroys and his lieutenants : the
world is parcelled out "into provinces, where
the spiritual rule of that old man prevails,
to a greater or less extent, through the
medium of those deputies. He dwells not in a
palace, but in a bumble room partaking rather of
the aspect of an anchorite's cell— he banquets not
upon luxuries — the frugality which he just now
observed was no exceptional affectation, but in
accordance ■^jith a general rule and practice. He
has enormous revenues at his command — and yet
such is the life that he leads."

'•'And who," I asked, stricken with astonish-
ment at all I had just heard, — "who, my lord,
may be this venerable old man who wields a power
so tremendous and yet so mysterious that it well
nigh makes me shudder with a feeling of solemn
awe ? Who is he, my lord ?"

" Father Eoothan," replied Cardinal Gravina, —
" Father Eoothan, the General of the Jesuits."

CHAPTEE CXIII.

TUB PEISONEKS' CELL.

Oy leaving the Gravina palace, I bent my way
direct to Signer Avellino, — taking with me the two
sealed packets which I had received from the Car-
dinal. I communicated to my friend the message
with which I was charged in respect to those
packets ; and when I had finished speaking, Fran-
cesco reflected gravely for some minutes ere he
gave me any response. I began to fear that these
messages were not altogether palatable to him : and
indeed I had previously apprehended that the one
relative to the patrician title might possibly wound
his pride. This idea had not struck me at the
moment when I so gladly took charge of the Car-
dinal's messages and packets : but it had gradually
dawned in unto my mind during my walk to Avel-
lino's residence. However, this apprehension on
my part was quickly dispelled: for Francesco's
countenance suddenly cleared up — and its previous
gravity was succeeded by the brightest anima-
tion.

" I was thinking for a moment, my dear friend,"
he said, " that it was somewhat annoying to be told
almost as plainly as actions can convey the sense
of words, that being a plebeian, it is necessary I
should be transformed into a patrician before I
can lead the Lady Antonia to the altar."

" But remember, Francesco," I said, " that this
intimation — if an intimation it be — emanates not
from the Tivoli family "

" That is the very thing which has just occurred
to me!" exclaimed Avellino : "and, after all, it
were ungracious on my part to feel vexed or indig-
nant with Cardmal Gravina because he seeks to do
the best for me he possibly can in a worldly point
of view. As society is constituted, he is right in
thus altering my social position before he gives me
his god-daughter in marriage ; and I was wrong to
hesitate in accepting the honour. And then too,
in respect to this settlement of a fortune upon me,
it displays so much generosity on the Cardinal's

part, that But no matter, Wilmot ! You

understand me now well enough— and there is no

humbling of my own pride in accepting any of the
bounties which his Eminence is pleased to shower
upon me."

" And in that case," I said, " you do agree to
accept them ?"

" I do," rejoined Avellino : " with gratitude
likewise do I receive them — and with thankfulness
also to you, my dear friend, for having become the
bearer of the Cardinal's well- meant communica-
tions."

" This being settled," I said, " permit me, my
dear Francesco, to be the first to greet you with
felicitations as the Count of Avellino."

The newly created patrician grasped my hand
with his wonted fervour ; and after some farther
conversation, we separated, — he to repair to the
Tivoli palace to visit his beloved Antonia — and I
to return to my hotel. On arriving there, I found
the little interpreter waiting for me ; and I won-
dered what the bustling garrulous old man could
now have to say. His business was speedily ex-
plained.

"You know, sir," he said, "that the two villains
who made the attack the other night, are in gaol;
and it has been communicated to them by the
magistrate in the course of a private examination,
that the name of the young foreign gentleman who
so gallantly interfered, is Mr. Joseph Wilmot.
Upon hearing this, both the men seemed struck
with astonishment ; and on being questioned, they
admitted that they had a previous knowledge of
you "

'■ The villains !" I ejaculated, indignant at the
acquaintanceship which I supposed to be as falsely
as it was insolently claimed.

" Stop, stop, sir !" cried the interpreter : " these
fellows do not for a moment pretend that you are
any way a friend of theirs : but the long and short
of it is that they humbly beseech an interview, as
they have something of more or less importance to
communicate."

At first I was inclined to give a positive refusal
to see the men, — fancying that it might be a mere
subterfuge to get me to visit them in order that
they should have an opportunity of imploring my
intercession on their behalf. But then I reflected
that their object might possibly be of some im-
portance to myself, although I could not at pre-
sent suspect how; and I therefore concluded that
it would be better to see them. At all events it
could not possibly do any harm.

" Yes," I said to the interpreter after this brief
interval of reflection, " I will accede to the request
of these men. But where is the interview to take
place ?"

"' They are at this present moment undergoing
another examination before the magistrates," re-
plied the interpreter : " when it is over, they will
be consigned to a cell at the neighbouring guard-
house until conveyed back with other prisoners to
the gaol. If you will condescend, signer, to accom-
pany me at once, you can see them."

I assented; and a hackney-coach being sum-
moned, we proceeded to the house in which the
magistrate's oflice was situated. On arriving there,
we found that the examination of the two culprits
was just concluded; and that they had been con-
veyed to the guard-house close by. Thither we
bent our way on foot, as it was only fifty yards dis» 1
tant. The interpreter spoke to the oflicer on duty.

174

JOSEPH WILMOT; OE, THE SrEMOIES OP A HAN-SEBVANT.

who bowed to me with politeness and made a sign
for me to follow him. We passed out into a little
yard in the rear of the guard-house, and where a
couple of sentinels with shouldered muskets were
pacing to and fro. Under a low colonnade, there
was au array of about half-a-dozen massive doors,
studded with large iron nails, and communicating
with the detention-cells. The officer was imme-
diately accosted by a turnkey in plain clothes, to
whom some instructions were given ; and then the
interpreter who had followed us thither, was
spoken to by both officer and gaoler in their
turns.

" I have to inform you, Signer," said the busy
little man, " that these two ruffians whom you come
to see, are of the most desperate character; and
though they are heavily ironed, yet both the officer
and the turnkey suggest the imprudence of your

venturing alone into their cell •"

" Am I to go alone ?" I asked of the interpreter.
" I thought that you would have to accompany me
to translate : for most probably the prisoners speak
nothing but Italian."

" On the contrary, Signor," responded the in-
terpreter ; " they both speak French ; they seem
to know that you do also : and they moreover in-
sisted upon seeing you alone. Besides, to tell you
the truth, I do not think that I should be of any

great assistance to you "

" True !" I ejaculated. " But I have no fear
of these men, if you say they are heavily

ironed "

"But those irons would constitute terrible
weapons in their hands," said the interpreter;
" and if they did happen to entertain a spite to-
wards you "

" Ask this officer," I quickly interrupted the
little man, " to lend me a brace of loaded pistols ;
and then there will be no fear for my safety."

This request was speedily complied with ; and
carrying a pistol in each hand, — for I was now just
enabled to remove my arm from the sling, — I was
shown into one of the cells. The door closed
behind me : but neither bolt was fastened nor key
turned ; and I heard the footsteps of one of the
sentinels halting at a little distance. Thus I per-
ceived that every precaution was being taken to
guard against the consequences of any sudden
attack which the two prisoners, if vindictively in-
clined, might make upon me.

I entered that cell, which was narrow but long :
it was lighted by a grating in the roof — or rather,
I should observe, was only redeemed thereby from
total obscurity : for the gloom was so great that I
rould scarcely distinguish the countenances of the
two men, though I could more easily trace the
dark outlines of their forms as they sate together
upon some straw at the farther extremity. The
light transiently introduced by the opening of the
door under the deep colonnade, had nevertheless
shown them who I was; for recognising me in a
moment, they both as in one breath ejaculated my
name.

" I have come," I said, at once addressing them
in the French language, " in compliance with a
request you forwarded to me ; and as my time is
not to be wasted, I beg.that you will proceed with-
out delay to the point."

" We know, sir," answered one of the prisoners,
" that you are brave as brave can be ; and honour

always goes with true courage. We therefore
mean to trust to your honour, by telling you a little
secret in respect to ourselves ; and then we shall
tell you something that regards yourself: so that
if the information is worth anything to you, you
may perhaps be inclined to do us a service in re-
turn."

" Proceed," I said : and I had already racked
my memory, but in vain, to recollect whether I had
ever heard the speaker's voice before.

" In the. first place, sir, the secret which regards
ourselves," continued the same man* who had al-
ready spoken, "is neither more nor less than this
— that we lately belonged to Marco Uberti's band,
of whose breakiug-up you were the principal
cause."

" Ah !" I ejaculated : for at the moment those
last words were spoken I heard the felons' chains
clanking. " And you feel vindictive against me ?
But beware ! I have a pistol in each hai d; anu
if you attempt to leave the places where jou now

are, to make a sudden spring upon me "

" We mean nothing of the sort, sir," interrupted
the spokesman. '■' We have got ears — we know
that the door has been merely closed, and not fast-
ened— you can push it open in a moment — and
the sentinels are nigh at hand outside the colon-
nade."

" Well," I observed, " I am glad that your inten-
tions do not comprise treachery although, with

my former experiences of your bitter vindictive-
ness and your blood-thirsty instincts, I could
scarcely do otherwise than let you know how com-
pletely I am on my guard. And now proceed.
You have told me that you both belonged to Marco

Uberti's band And, ah ! I recognise you now !"

— for by this time my vision had become accus-
tomed to the obscurity of the cell.

" Yes, sir — thatis the secret which we had to com-
municate," resumed the one who acted as spokes-
man for them both.

" Why is it a secret ?" I asked, my mind still
full of suspicion. " You are certain to suffer death
for the offence wi!h which you are charged: your
punishment theLvt'ore could not possibly be en-
hanced if it were known that you had formed part
of the formidable gang which until recently in-
fested the Appenines — and therefore you have no
earthly interest in regarding that circumstance as
a secret. Besides, these are the Eomau States^
and you cannot be here held amenable for what-
soever crimes you have committed in Tuscany,
which is, so to speak, another country."

" The explanation, sir, can be easily and promptly
given," replied the prisoner : and he spoke the
whole time with the most respectful humility.
" There is some reason or another, which we can-
not rightly comprehend unless it is that the

aid gentleman whom we attacked is some influen-
tial personage who wants to hush the matter up

for certain reasons of his own "

" Proceed !" I said, impatiently.
" Well, sir, to come to the point. Our examina-
tion has been conducted in private ; and we are
given to understand that if we sign a paper ad-
mitting our guilt, and thus throw ourselves on
the mercy of the authorities, our lives shall bo
spared, but we shall be condemned to a long im-
prisonment. So far, so good : loss of liberty is
not so bad as loss of life. But if it were known

JOSEPH WILMOT; OE, THE MEMOIES OF A MAN- SERVANT.

175

that we had formed part of Marco Uberti's band,
the authorities here— no doubt only too glad to
get rid of us altogether— would send us straight
off to Florence, by virtue of a treaty respecting
criminals which exists between the two States.
And if we were handed over to the grasp of the
Tuscan law, I need not tell you, sir, that we
should share the fate of Marco Uberti, Philippo,
and others."

" All this may be well reasoned on your part," I
said : "but still I cannot for the life of me compre-
hend wherefore you have revealed your secret to
me."

" We trust, sir, in your honour," was the re-
sponse.

" Good !" I ejaculated : " but still you must
have a motive "

"Why, you see, sir," resumed the prisoner, "as
we are going to give you a particular piece of in-
formation which regards yourself, we could not very
well help telling this secret in the first instance :
for the very circumstance of our knowing certain
persons concerning whom we are about to speak,
would betray who we are, or rather were"

" Now I begin to understand," I said. " But
for the information itself — and those persons "

" You know your fellow-countryman Dorches-
ter ?"

" Ah ! what of him ?" I ejaculated.

"Tou know likewise your fellow-countryman
Lanover ?" continued the brigand.

" Yes — too well !" I exclaimed, now indeed be-
coming profoundly interested in the words of the
bandit.

" Well, sir, a few days back," continued the man,
— "just before I and my comrade arrived in
Rome, we were lurking about in the town of
Magliano "

" I know it," I said : " it is at no great distance
from Eome. Proceed."

"We were reduced to extremities," continued
the brigand : " we were debating what we should
do, when whom should we suddenly fall against
but our old friend Dorchester — he who lived in the
cave, you know, and who was the means of throw-
ing many a traveller into our hands. We saw
that he was in tolerably good feather — and we
were rejoiced, for we flattered ourselves that his
purse would be readily opened to us. We were
deceived : not the smallest coin would he part
with 1 On the contrary, he affected to treat us as
beggars : he denied that his name was Dorchester,
or that he had ever seen us before; and he spoke
of the impudence of fellows like us who dared to
accost a respectable gentleman who could produce
papers to show who he was. Well, sir, there was
no use in creating a disturbance : for we ourselves
had no passports — and if the police had interfered,
we should have got the worst of it. So we slunk
away : but after a little deliberation, we resolved
to follow Dorchester — dog his movements — and see
whether he might not possibly be up to something
that we might turn to our own advantage. And
perhaps too, I may as well confess that we thought
there would be no harm in revenging ourselves
upon a fellow "

" I understand your meaning," I said, impa-
tiently. '•' Proceed !"

"We followed Dorchester without being ob-
served by him ; and at length we traced him to an

old ruin a little way outside the town. There we
thought we had him safe enough for our purposes,
when, on looking round, who should we see but
that crabbed old humpback Lanover ascending a
winding path that led towards the same ruin. Oh,
ho! thought we: this is evidently an appoint-
ment ! Without wasting time by describing to
you, Mr. Wilmot, the situation or principal features
of the ruin, it will be sufficient to state that we
managed so to conceal ourselves as to be totally
unobserved by the two Englishmen, or even to
have our presence there at all suspected by

them "

" And what ensued ?" I hastily inquired : for
the conjunction of those two evil planets seemed
ominously fraught with evil.

" Their discourse was a long one," continued the
bandit ; " and as they spoke in their own native
language, we could not understand it. But we
gleaned several names which they mentioned over

and over again "

" And those names ?" I hastily ejaculated.
" Your's, My. Wilmot, was one ; and I can as-
sure you that it was spoken with vindictive bitter-
ness of accent by both Dorchester and Lanover —
particularly by the latter."

" Ah ! and the other names P" I interjected.
"Heseltine was one," rejoined the bandit : "and

let me see "

"Eccleston was another," suggested the bri-
gand's comrade, now speaking for the first time.

" And any other T' I asked, with feverish im-
patience.

" Yes — there was a singular and sweetly sound-
ing name, though spoken by the jarring voice of

the humpback "

" And that name — that name ?" I ejaculated,
full of nervous apprehension.

" What was it P" said the bandit in a musing
tone.

" Annabel," again suggested his comrade.
"I feared so !— the villain! But what else?
what other name P" — and I was now full of the
most painful excitment.

" We heard none other," answered the brigand.
" But we are certain, from the way in which the
two men spoke — I mean by their vehement accents
— then their mysterious uader-tones — and so forth
— that they were devising plans of mischief against
all those whose names they mentioned. But when
we reflected, Mr. Wilmot, how Lanover had got
Uberti's band to capture the old Englishman
Heseltine and his family— and how you by your
cunning stratagem, as bold however as it was
astute, effected their freedom — how savage Lanover

afterwards was too "

" No matter what you thought," I impatiently
interrupted the brigand. " Have you aught else
to tell me ? How ended that scene P"

" I have a little more to say, sir," proceeded the
brigand; "and then the tale will be told. Just
before Lanover and Dorchester separated, the
former mentioned the name of Civita Vecchia— a
town, you know, sir, at no great distance : and
then Dorchester in a kind of chuckling humour
said in French, ' Farewell, friend ! we meet at
Civita Vecchia on Monday fortnight.' "
" And what else transpired ?" I asked.
"Nothing more, sir," replied the brigand: "for
immediately afterwards Dorchester and Lanover

176

JOSEPH WIIMOT; OE, THE MEMOIES OP A MAN-SERVANT.

parted, and begau taking different ways to reach
the town. It was our firm intention to pounce
upon Dorchester : but all of a sudden a party of
gentlemen on horseback appeared close by "

" And so you were compelled to let him es-
cape ?" I said. " Have you anything more to tell
me?"

" Nothing, sir : but we thought you might as
well know all this— and therefore when we learnt
your name "

"I understand you. You are confident that
the words used by Dorchester were that Monday
fortnight they were to meet at Civita Vecchia ?"

" There was no mistake as to the words used,"
answered the bandit : " for Dorchester spoke them
in French — just as any foreigner after having
talked a time in his own native language may
throw in a phrase or a sentence worded in the
language of some other country."

"And the particular date ?" I eagerly asked, —
" the Monday fortnight thus spoken of "

" It is for Monday next, sir, that the appoint-
ment stands good," was the prisoner's response.

" And this is Thursday !" I ejaculated : and to
myself I muttered, "Thank heaven, there is plenty
of time to institute an investigation into what-
soever new plot may be in progress :" — then again
addressing myself to the banditti, I said, " "What
service is it that you demand at my hands, in re-
turn for the information you have thus voluntarily
given me ?"

" That little old man, sir, who acts as intepreter,
and also as a sort of usher and messenger of the
court, is a talkative person in his way ; and he got
chatting this morning with the sbirri who had us
in custody at the forenoon examination before the
magistrate. We overheard him speaking about
you ; and he dropped some hint to the effect that
you were in high favour with great personages at
Rome, — adding that he wished ho was in your
place, for he would not show any delicacy in asking
for anything he wanted, because he would be sure
to get it."

"Well," I interjected, "and acting upon this
hint which the old man so indiscreetly threw
out »

" And which we caught up quick enough, sir,"
rejoined the bandit, " although it was not intended
for our ears,— we thought perhaps you might in-
tercede for us and get some remission of our sen-
tence. If you would, we should be very thank-
ful "

"You have certainly done me a service," I
interrupted the man, " and I hope and believe it
is not in my nature to be ungrateful. At the
same time, I am well aware that it is through no
love of me you have made your present communi-
cations : but you are perfectly justified, under the
circumstances, in doing the best you can for your-
selves. T can pledge myself to nothing more than
that I will certainly intercede for you— but the
result must necessarily be in the hands of
others."

" We trust entirely, sir, to your goodness," was
the exclamation of the bandit who had all along
been the spokesman ; " and depend upon it that if
you should be enabled to do anything for us, and
if we, being ever again at large in the world, should
happen to fall in with you, there is nothing we will
not do to show our gratitude."

" Once again I toll you that I will do my best ;
and if nothing should come of it, you must not
conclude that I have neglected or forgotten
you."

Having thus spoken, I pushed against the door
of the cell— it opened — and I issued forth, — a
turnkey immediately coming forward to secure it
upon the felon inmates of that dungeon. The
officer was no longer in the yard : I gave the
pistols to the interpreter, together with a liberal
pecuniary recompense for his trouble; and appear-
ing not to notice the look of anxious curiosity
which he bent upon me, and which seemed to ask
what the prisoners had communicated, I ^ed forth
from the guard-house. Ee-enterlng the hackney-
coach, which was waiting at a little distance, I
ordered the driver to take me at once to the Tivoli
palace.

During the half-hour occupied in accomplishing
the distance, I reflected profoundly upon all that I
had heard from the lips of the bandit. That
Lanover was meditating fresh mischief against Sir
Matthew Heseltine, Annabel, and her motlier, I
could not doubt : that his iniquitous design either
embraced myself, or that another and distinct pro-
ject of rascality was directed against my own safety,
was almost equally clear; and that Dorchester was
now his accomplice, his agent, or his instrument,
was still more evident. The reader will bear in
mind that by my proceedings at Marco Uberti'a
tower, when I was the means of delivering the old
Baronet and his family nearly two months pre-
vious to the date of which I am now writing,^
Lanover's hopes of extorting a settlement of a
thousand pounds a year from Sir Matthew, were
destroyed. I had moreover on that occasion — by
means of a few words hastily traced with a pencil
on a scrap of paper — made the Baronet aware who
the author of his captivity was. It was now
therefore by no means difficult to comprehend
how Lanover might have ever since found the
Baronet deaf to whatsoever overtures or proposals
the vile humpback had made to him : and hence,
perhaps, the initiation of some new scheme of
villany on Lanover's part. And perhaps, too, he
had discovered, since our interview in Florence (at
which time he was evidently ignorant of it) that I
really must have given Sir Matthew Heseltine
some such intimation at the tower : and hence
the revival of Lanover's bitter hostility against
me. As for Dorchester — I felt that he could have
no very amicable feeling towards me, inasmuch as
I had proved the principal means of uprooting
the Uberti gang with whom he was connected in
the Apennines. But, ah ! while I was thus re-
flecting, another thought struck me : it was the
reminiscence that according to the statement I had
just heard in the prisoner's cell, the name of
Eccleston was mentioned by Lanover and Dorches-
ter in the ruin near Magliano. Was that noble-
man about to recommence his persecutions of me ?
was he again finding a too willing agent in
Lanover? or was Lanover now playing another
game — a game entirely on his own behalf — and
dragging the Earl of Eccleston into the proposed
iniquity ?

" Clouds are gathering thickly," I said to my-
self in sadness of spirit ; " and the sky is once
more lowering above my head. When will an un-
interrupted heaven of peace smile upon my stormy

JOSKPH WILMOT ; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SEEVANT.

177

life? But let me not despond," I exclaimed
aloud, with a sudden plucking up of all my forti-
tude. " That same ruling power which has guided
me safely through so many perils, and has brought
me to a happy issue from so many dangers, will
not desert me now. I will save thee— Oh ! I will
save thee, my beloved Annabel, from whatsoever
dark plot may be now menacing thee! Yes — I
will save thee — and not only thyself — but likewise
those who are near and dear unto thee; and my
success will constitute another claim upon the con-
sideration of Sir Mathew Ileseltine when in
eight or nine months hence I present myself before
him and demand thine hand !"

The hackney-coach stopped at the entrance of
the Tivoli palace : it was past five o'clock in the
evening — I hesitated for a moment to intrude at a
time which was close upon the dinner hour — but
considering the urgency of my case, I quickly
banished that hesitation. I was conducted up to
76.

the drawing-room, where I found the Count of
Tivoli, his son and daughter, and the Count of
Avellino. Cordial was the welcome I experienced;
and the Count of Tivoli expressed his pleasure that
I should avail myself of the sentiment of friend-
ship thus to drop in and join their circle at dinner.
I hastened to assure him that I should not have
thought of coming unasked; and I went on to
explain that circumstances rendered an immediate,
but I hoped temporary, absence from Eome abso-
lutely necessary. Without betraying tho banditti's
secret iu respect to their former connexion with
Marco Uberti, I said enough to account for this
suddenly necessitated journey on my part.

"And when do you propose to set oflf?" in-
quired the Count of Tivoli.

" This evening," I answered. " I believe that
Civita Vecchia is little more than thirty miles from
Rome "

" You will do no good by arriving there late

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Hs ! "
>&p^ofitoi

AMteiiaaA aaiiahilftan anr tte cdka afkai
eaal^ aai kaaf aa mall aaaail lis teoifln. Hia
a>aa% usBtLf faacOsa Mm^ Bka tiia ■MMtona-^
a«t» Boblr c«rT«i luid wvH ^MkA. Tka qna
««t» kff^. 'iak. iml of «xi.t»Bn» laSBaacf : j«i
Ana aas KjCimiie ininililiiiw — at

as^aalatrtSt* WftTta^ Aa jafefaltiiMa aAwik ia ttasr %kftv— aUc^ aa tta raaibBMjrr baKaffc«i&

TQf^ltek tka

aamti ttaelf was eoo^^c
^l^-sr:!! wm % dbnr aim

-, <3t hJB iS^atfwKK. lai abt it «aw to toka
r a i«o£isit <j£ Qtttte ar «Faai» «f toa

~<^T3ac mtonfe. fit aatt aaC afciwa ttut- aaUk
&N^[>al— ckatfer. aas as it ipatiHft v[naaytaf : aadt

rtaftiiliaJiL (jt tt» %tm! was tmaiiamit wiA

a EthuMMiw «ni a. aflovrr lABtBCttT; frigtttiic wdrik
s tea kacMta^ <;£ tbf [£m6^ w^oA tadfeat^i aa

^^ sw l» C£t^ Tmc&u; and k»

A = *4<.' «e*r y^^ * serriw^ my

• WiiimKih." ^B»^Vtf-■ lit! of R"

b« &»fti to ia' i «?ctt aw.

Sj a» ftikaiiAif -vr -• •. l -a :<'rii!*ia Bowar.- s
wik CtuuBMt lAaagfc. t!&t!>R< asm &•.*. C&trr ^all
bnaasT j>«w«8 avrf *' '""■■ '■■' '•-"•—■ -•• -. *

»&Bia,wat pcwMwaaefe ,. ■ , sit-

BMat « Bk mav t&odb &<t w ittioMiK jkaii aiMr I

vtIL rv>t-^ ^r 7^ g^r-gy ssc! pes <A# fraaatd I mjiht W eaflk^a^ ia caae otf auiatgaatr, to aS

ItfCtvT . ^ ., |\}ccitzL I lifta j,i,iia<Mi adiaaiaf* aa aacoaaat of lAa actmeT-

CBMdtas ilt<uaM ': •nairT' napaet appaaatii to ka

tito ■ia^iL'g* I- ' t^- Siiii& aas t&it iiiiiIiIIImJ mhaux I

M^Itaok -■ ' - :^ : A»aa to iiif |ii[ ailA Duaainia Claefc:.

ltttar«f Bta'-'co \Lr. iSaBtoHto.

- 1. j j^a st^^" «b1 lb» Itaaani^ tibt awtaai
I catBctKl ii&» -roRe inia ; ■'kasa'^ aaa MHai
W%Baft to

aMfc IaHlaaa*(rto m^\

aiaa aa awat to g» »te ttawaa fcaayd ia ftiha

fliiaii— atatf Iml j«4 k coaU aat iaara baaa

-Iiija.VlUaBk I

togaa

TfiMii^. II ii^fi "^ autonnq^ Mb. BJ^
yia aaa aaa J^gaftam MviiBar tlBaal^

;aa BBSlt joia as ait sifpar "

mr*Bm: mtf I niiirifiail; «» M
toadMaftaaalJMii'*
"▲■i iM^s jaafc Oa pnaiT
«ai^<'aa*fttofaBito<caBkaBMaL Mjri

'^WaB, Ikka^ataMBltK* lakogm^aitta

sad«^ aa I t^eeA

toMa. '^BMndfyil iiM aoa

CHIPTILK CXIT.

XBS Kisssaxs euESS.

I ssrr (A* f&nS falM» niamam aa^ (Aa* I
aalgMt katia taaa to«a*ra pai> ifcnwa tokaiat
MMttM»tirBaa*«a«wfy knr ia Aa Manaae-
■Mi dto tt^ I ^baaU ka aaAtai to ofetaia a g«^
a^^A^ MM pcvrants to aqrApaaOaaa: fte-Iaaa
rt» aeawakalt aadk ftwa «ba aCktto at Aa
I kail Kceatod. I dUaal
aaniat awftftw^MWaaa to
aal Mn. Sritonfi^ caA atakaaa

mi I tkmJtoa aafetad Aa iMt i»»m af Aa

ta» sntitaansH akom I Mb yw»y iiiiftiial of "'Ihaa ailt
laBag «ikw> Jf'g ^'^^ I MMBtofcenL »a Haaaiiiiv j eaate. '^ScsktoAa
aMlkBMeal ««» sittiBif dawm toaipfar: ftrj Ana » aaAang to aaj-
Ikaai^k ihqr ks«didi»lt«i iu»i btnu&ffi aniB^ aad
Ctedkate^-ratART^aaivn-lbiijdtoaHJa^aa&Mkl <^fifejaa*Aai^'

-ariitaa'

JOSEPH WliMOT; OB, THE MEMOIES OF A MAN-SEKVANT.

179

minds mo of what I remarked to the Widow Glen-
bucket one daj, when after I had dined off roast
poosc and told her to put the rest away for supper,
1 happened to go into her kitchen and found her

with it on the table before her Yes, it must

have been a roast goose — it could not have been a
boiled sucking pig. However "

" Nonsense, Dominic !" was Mr. Saltcoats* voci-
ferated interruption as usual: "you are perfectly
incorrigible with your Widow Glenbuckct "

" It's just that, Saltcoats," retorted Mr. Clack-
mannan : " for talking of the Widow Glenbuckct,
reminds mo that one day I found you with your
face very close to her's ; and as I heard a hearty
smack just at the instant I opened the door, I
wondered what you were whispering about. It
couldn't have been a box on the ear she gave you,

or that you gave her And now I bethink mo,

it sounded just liko a kiss But it happened

fifteen years ago, and I have been wondering every
since "

" Come, my dear Wilmot," said tho perservering
Saltcoats, " sit down with us and eujoy yourself.
I tell you what," he added, drawing mo partly
aside and speaking in a whisper, " there's one of
tho nicest fellows I ever came across — an excellent
companion— a fund of anecdote— speaks all kinds
of languages — English, French, Italian, German,

Latin, and Greek Only conceive— Greek! my

dear boy !"

" But ho strikes mo as being a Greek himself,"
I answered.

" Ah, so ho is — and therefore it's not so very
odd after all. He only arrived at tho hotel about
two hours ago," continued Saltcoats : " he camo in
a post-chaise from Naples, and is going on somo-
whero else — some town with a devil of a hard
name — tho first thing to-morrow morning. Lot
mo see, what is his own name ? However, no
matter — ho is quite tho gentleman. The Dominie
offered him a pinch of snuff when ho first camo
in : so that led to a conversation — ho took his
wino with us — and agreed to join us at supper."

All tho time Mr. Saltcoats was giving mo these
hurried explanations, tho handsome Greek was
listening with tho most exemplary patience and
with a consummate good humour to three or four
unfinished anecdotes of tho Dominie's, in which
figured all tho hardest and most extraordinary
names that ho was ever accustomed to introduce into
bis conversation. I now perceived that the stranger
was regarding mo ; and fearful he might think I
was impertinently questioning Saltcoats as to who
he was, instead of having all my Scotch friend's
explanations forced upon me, I thought it best to
cut them short at once by repairing to the table.

" A young friend of ours, sir," said Saltcoats,
introducing mo to the handsome Greek, — " a very
intimate friend — Mr. Joseph Wilmot."

"It's just that," said tho Dominie, — "and not
Joshua, who stole "

" Nonsense, nonsense !" interposed Mr. Saltcoats,
somewhat impatient at the idea of a recital of tho
sheep-stealing anecdote. " Yes, this is Mr. Wil-
mot. And Mr. Wilmot my dear fellow, this
gentleman is Signer Kan Pan Dan "

But unable to recollect the name, Saltcoats ap-
pealed with an entreating look to the gentleman
himself.

" My name is Eanoris," said tho Greek, with a

smile, — " Constantino Kanaris, at your service, sir :"
— and he bowed with well-bred politeness to mo.

" Kanaris !" I could not help exclaiming, with a
sudden glow of enthusiasm : " that is a noble and
an honoured name, sir ! Would it bo impertinent
in mo to ask if you bo a relative of tho famous
Greek naval commander ?"

"Admiral Kanaris is my uncle, I am proud to
say," answered tho handsome young man ; and his
eyes lighted up with enthusiastic admiration as ho
thus proclaimed a kinship of which ho might in-
deed well bo proud.

I was immediately attracted towards Kanaris:
I felt as if I should like to form tho friendship of
ono who bore a name which his relative had ren-
dered so distinguished. I accordingly sato down
to the table, and made a pretence of eating some-
thing. I found that my new acquaintance was
indeed well versed in tho English language ; and
before I had been half-an-hour in his society, I
had every reason to admire the interesting variety
of his information, and to bo pleased with tho
frank unassuming manner in which he conversed.
Ho appeared to take an equal liking to mo, and
presently expressed a regret that he was compelled
to leave Homo early on the following morning, " as
ho should otherwise bo rejoiced to cultivate the
agreeable acquaintances which ho had formed."

"It's just that," said tho Dominic: "and it
puts mo in mind of what I said to my friend tho
Laird of Tintosquashdale, when I ono day took
Baillio Owlhead, Mrs. Owlhcad, and all tho young
Owlheads — eleven in number — to dine with him
unexpectedly Yes, it must have been unex-
pectedly— ho could not have expected us all — for
ho had only a couple of mutton-chops for dinner

And I told him I knew how welcome the

visitors would bo. And that puts rao in
mind "

"Nonsense, Dominie!" interrupted Saltcoats.
"But must you really go away to morrow?" ho
inquired, turning to Constantino Kanaris.

" I must indeed," was tho response. " I have
ordered a chaise for half-past eight o'clock "

" Which reminds me," I observed, " that I also
have to order a chaiso for to-morrow morn-
ing "

" You ?" exclaimed Saltcoats, in a sort of con-
sternation : " you going to leave us too ?"

"Not for very long, I hope," I replied : "but
urgent business calls me to Civita Veechia."

"Civita Vecohia?" vociferated Saltcoats, pro-
nouncing it liowover in some extraordinary
fashion : " why, that's tho very place "

"Yes, it is my destination," said Kanaris, with
one of thoso smiles of masculine blanducss which
only lips like his could adequately express. " I
am going to Civita Veechia ; and it is with un-
feigned delight, Mr, Wilmot, I have just learnt
that you also are bound for that sea-port. Per-
haps— if you will not think it a liberty on tho
part of a strange'r in making such an offer— you
would accept a scat in my post-chaise f "

" I will cheerfully and gladly join you in the
cost thereof," I answered ; " and it suits mo all
the more especially, inasmuch as it was my inten-
tion likewise to start early in tho morning."

" Then you and I, Dominie," exclaimed Mr.
Saltcoats, " will turn out early likewise, that wo
may breakfast with our friends here,"

180

JOSEPH WILMOT; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT.

" It's just that," answered Mr. Clackmannan,
taking a huge pinch of snuff. " And talking of
turning out early, reminds me that when I was
staying at the Widow Glenbucket's, I rolled out
of bed uncommonly early one morning, and came
with my head right into the foot-bath which I had

been using aver night No, it couldn't have

been my head— it must have been my heels —
because people don't get cut of bed headfore-
most "

There was the usual interruption on the part of
Mr. Saltcoats ; and a few minutes afterwards I
withdrew to my chamber, — having bidden my two
old friends and my new one a cordial •' good night."

Mr. Saltcoats and the Dominie kept their word
in respect to rising betimes to join Constantine
Eanaris and myself at the breakfast-table; the
post-chaise was in readiness at the hour ordained
— my Greek companion and I took our seats — and
the equipage rolled away from the gate of the
hotel, an uproarious vociferation of "best wishes"
on the part of Mr. Saltcoats following us half-way
down the street.

As I sate next to Kanaris inside the vehicle,
my previous night's impression of his extraordi-
nary personal beauty was fully confirmed by this
daylight view ; and I could not help thinking to
myself that this was an appearance full well cal-
culated to make an impression on the female
heart. Only a few words were exchanged while
the chaise was noisily rattling over the wretched
pavement of the Koman streets: but when we
emerged upon the broad road leading towards
Civita Vecchia, we were enabled to discourse at
our ease.

"I understand," said Kanaris, " from the most
communicative of your two friends, that you are
travelling in Italy for your pleasure ?"

" Not exactly so on the present occasion," I
answered : " for I have business of some little im-
portance which takes me to Civita Vecchia."

" Have you ever been in that town before ?" in-
quired my companion.

" Never," was my response. " But I under-
stand it has a very picturesque site — contains some
fine old buildings— and has more or less import-
ance as a seaport. I presume it is likewise your
first visit thither ?"

" Not so," replied Kanaris. " I had been stay-
ing there for some four or five months until about
three weeks back — when business suddenly called
me to Naples; and that having been settled, I
am now speeding back to Civita Vecchia."

"It must therefore have considerable attractions
for you," I casually remarked : "or perhaps busi-
ness "

"No — not business exactly," exclaimed Con-
stantine with a smile : and then suddenly becom-
ing serious, he remained in a pensive reverie for
upwards of a minute. "You must not think," he
continued, suddenly resuming his wonted frank
open-hearted manner, "that because I just now
said I was called by business to Naples, I have
either professional or mercantile avocations. No-
thing of the sort. Fortune has in many respects
been kind to me : for although I lost my parents
when young, they left me not unprovided for. On
the contrary : I inherited an ample fortune — and
am therefore my own master to act perfectly as I
choose."

" In every sense untrammelled ?" I observed,
again speaking in a casual manner, for conver-
sation's sake, and without any particular mean-
ing.

"No — not altogether untrammelled," answered
Constantine Kanaris, after a few moments' silent
reflection, and again with a certain degree of seri-
ousness in his manner. "Even though the cir-
cumstances of the world constitute no trammels,
Mr. Wilmot, — yet the heart's feelings often become
chains: and though silken ones— aye, and gladly
worn too — they are chains all the same !"

" I understand you," I said ; and in return for
the sort of confidential manner in which he had
thus been speaking, I added, "Yes— I can com-
prehend you : for I myself have a similar expe-
rience !"

" Ah ! you know what love is ?" exclaimed Con-
stantine, his handsome countenance lighting up
with a sudden enthusiasm, and his voice swelling
with that golden harmony of intonation which
seems alone fitted to do justice to the sublimity and
the power of the grand old epics of his native
clime : " you know what love is ? 'Is it not,
then, to live in a world of one's own creating
— a world which in itself is a seclusion from that
other and greater world around us ? Is it not to
experience a thousand delights of the soul which
were never known before ? But is it not also," —
and here his voice suddenly sank into a low mourn-
fulness that surprised and almost startled me, — " is
it not to be tortured at times with apprehension
and foreboding — with a mistrust for a duration of
the very happiness itself which is being experienced ?
Is it not to awaken frequently from an ecstatic
dream of bliss to a sense of the uncertainty of all
earthly things?"

" I confess," was my response, " that my own
love is more hopeful and trusting than your's, my
friend, appears to be. Yes — for mine is allied to
faith itself; and when I look amidst the circum-
stances of my own eventful life, methinks that I
behold therein an assurance that heaven itself pro-
tects and guides me. With this belief my love is
full of hope; — and yet I do not hesitate to admit

that there are contingencies But still," I added,

in a firm and even joyous tone, " I have confidence
in the issue !"

Kanaris regarded me with mingled astonishment
and interest : methought likewise that he had some
reason to envy that condition of feelings which I
had just been explaining to him; for a partial
shade appeared to come over his countenance — and
it even struck me that he sighed.

"Perhaps," he said, speaking slowly and
thoughtfully, " mine is one of those temperaments
that are easily excitable, and which therefore at
times torture themselves with groundless fears and
baseless forebodings. But yet — but yet, it seems
to me, my friend — or at least I had hitherto fan-
cied, that there is no love without such occasional
misgivings ; and that even when assured of a reci-
procal affection on the part of the adored one, there
yet remains the apprehension lest some unknown
obstacle should arise — lest some unsuspected bar-
rier should suddenly spring up, and every hope
should be blighted !"

" But where love itself is combined with faith
and hope," I answered, " it is replete with a con-
fidence which triumphs over such misgivings."

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OE, THE MEMOIES OF A MAK-SEBTANT.

181

"Listen to me for a few minutes," resumed
Xanaris. '•' Love in this world appears to me to
be so like a dream — so like a visionary glimpse of
paradise, as it were — that I cannot help treating it
as such. Yes — and I am thereby led to assimi-
late it unto the dreams which we experience during
our sleep. Have you never fancied in your slum-
ber that you have been rambling in a beauteous
garden — a soft sunlight playing upon the orna-
mental waters — setting forth the loveliest colours
of all the flowers — and giving an effect to the
trees as if gems were the fruitage of every bough ?
Then, has it not appeared to you as if some angelic
form were advancing along the walk, — her white
and azure robes floating gracefully around her—
smiles upon her lips — a sunny glory upon her hair
—and her alabaster feet glancing as with elastic
tread she seems to trip airily between the parterres
of flowers? Then, have you -not felt transports of
love and bliss and hope in your heart? and it has
appeared to you that you went swiftly to meet the
advancing beauty whose arms were already ex-
tended to welcome you in the fondest embrace ?
But then all of a sudden it has seemed as if your
limbs grew heavy as lead : vainly have you sought
to drag yourself forward — the sunny light of the
garden has changed as abruptly into a gloom
which goes on deepening and deepening — a yawn-
ing gulf suddenly opens at your feet — you find
yourself separated for ever from the angel-presence
on the other side of the chasm — and the next
moment the black darkness of night falls upon the
entire scene, entombing yourself, the fair one, and
your own hopes beyond redemption ! Yes — I have
had such dreams as these, even if you have not ;
and it is to such that I cannot help assimilating
the love which the heart bears for the living beauty
of this world !"

It was now my turn to gaze with mingled
astonishment and interest : and I did not once
take my eyes ofi' the countenance of my companion
while he was speaking, — that countenance which
expressed as it were an animation mournfully seri-
ous and singularly solemn. It would be impossible to
describe the efi"ect which his words produced upon
me— and all the more so inasmuch as his language,
filled with the loveliest flowers of metaphor, flowed
with the richest and most tuneful harmony, as if
it were that of the Eiver Pactolus rolling between
its own fabled shores of gold. But I could not
help compassionating Constantine Kanaris : for I
fancied that his love in its very enthusiasm had
soared out of sight of all the ordinary rules by
which the world's circumstances are governed — or
that it had even become poetized into a morbid
sentiment. I reasoned with him on the subject :
but I will not inflict upon the reader the lecture
of which I thus delivered myself. Constantine
listened with an earnest attention and with the
deepest interest : but still I saw that he was not
altogether convinced — though he evidently strug-
gled to satisfy himself that my view of the subject
was the correct one.

There was now a pause in the discourse, — during
which we each remained absorbed in our own re-
flections : for I thought of my beloved and beau-
teous Annabel — while he no doubt was contem-
plating the image of the object of his own devo-
tion.

" Do you purpose to make a long stay at Civita

Vecchia ?" at length inquired Constantine Eanaris,
suddenly awakening from his reverie, and speaking
with his wonted cheerfulness once more, — as if he
sought to turn the conversation into another
channel.

" I am totally at a loss how to answer the ques-
tion," I observed : " for the business which takes
me thither is one in which I do not altogether see

my way clear and, in a word, so much depends

upon circumstances!"

For the reader may easily understand that
though I had conceived a friendship for the Greek
— and all the more so after that interesting though
melancholy explanation of his feelings — yet I did
not choose to enter more deeply into personal
matters with a mere stranger — for such in reality
he was to me. Besides, to have given any expla-
nations at all, would have necessitated the recital
of many incidents of my life, as well as to speak
of the affairs of others : for instance, how I came
to know Lanover and Dorchester — who they were
— why Lanover had his own reasons for seeking to
coerce Sir Mathew Heseltine— rwho Sir Mathew
himself was — the circumstances under which I was
travelling on the Continent — and a variety of
other particulars into which I had no inclination
to enter.

" I hope that we shall see each other often at
Civita Vecchia," observed Constantine Kanaris,
" during your residence there. If you mean to
stay at an hotel "

" That likewise depends upon circumstances," I
answered : " for though I am the bearer of a very
kind letter of introduction to a gentleman at
Civita Vecchia, yet I am not sure whether I shall
stay at his house "

But at this moment my remarks were cut short
by a spectacle which attracted the attention of us
both. I should observe that the greater part of
the distance from Eome to Civita Vecchia was
already accomplished — the horses had been changed
two or three times — and we were within ten miles
of our destination. A turning in the road had
suddenly revealed to us a horseman who appeared
to be engaged in a somewhat perilous strife with
the vicious animal which he bestrode. The horse
was rearing right up at the instant this spectacle
burst upon our view ; and its rider, evidently more
daring than experienced, was thrashing the animal
unmercifully, as well as tugging hard at the bridle.
The next instant he pulled the horse completely
over ; and it fell heavily upon him.

The postilions of our chaise reined in their
horses in a moment : Kanaris and I sprang forth.
The animal which had done the mischief, lay in
apparent helplessness across its late rider's thigh :
we therefore had some trouble in extricating him
with suitable gentleness from his perilous position :
for he shouted out something in a language which
I could not understand, but which was at once
familiar to the ears of Kanaris — who said to me
rapidly, " He tells us that his leg is broken !"

We at length succeeded in drawing him from
under the animal, which itself was so much in-
jured that it could not rise up ; and Kanaris,
j evidently well experienced in all matters regard-
ing horses, speedily discovered that the poor
I brute's spine was broken. After exchanging a
I few rapidly uttered words with the disabled
I stranger, Constantine said " He agrees with me

182

JOSEPH ■WIIMOT ; OE, THE MEM0IE3 01? A MAST-SEKVANT.

that the steed must be put out of its misery — and
this I will do at once. Attend you to the man
himself."

Having thus spoken, Kanaris took from under
the seat of the postchaise a handsome rosewood
pistol-case ; and drawing forth one of the weapons
it contained, and which were of most exquisite
workmanship— he the next moment discharged
a bullet point-blank at the animal's head, and
which crashing through the frontal bone, put the
brate out of its misery in the twinkling of an eye.
He then joined me in attending to the stranger.
It was indeed too evident that his thigh was
fractured : we therefore lifted him into the chaise
as carefully as we could. Kanaris remained with
him inside the vehicle ; and I took my seat on the
bos, as there was not room for all three in the in-
terior in consequence of the position in which the
injured man had to lie. I had of course preferred
that Eanaris should remain with him, because
they understood a language in which they were
enabled to converse together.

Before closing this chapter, I may as well avail
myself of an opportunity to give a brief descrip-
tion of the stranger whom we had thus picked up
— inasmuch as I shall again have to speak of him
in the course of my narrative. He was a man of
about forty years of age, and by no means of pre-
possessing appearance. He wore a profusion of
dark hair, which was exceedingly coarse : he had
huge black whiskers and a bushy beard. His
countenance was bronzed and weather-beaten : and
his apparel was of a nautical fashion. He was
short, stout, and thickset — and therefore had little
the look of one who ought to have ventured upon
the back of a vicious horse : for, judging by his
whole exterioi-, his experiences were more connected
with riding ia a vessel over the waves of ocean,
than on horseback over the hills of the earth. In
a word, I sot him down in my own mind as a cap-
tain or superior officer of some trading vessel : but
I must add that there was a certain repulsive fero-
city in his look which was much at variance with
one's general idea of the blunt, frank-hearted,
honest-minded mariner. He was however seriously
injured — this was only too evident; and instead of
entertaining a prejudice against him, I was well
inclined to give him my warmest sympathy.

CHAPTEE CXV,

CIVITA TECCniA.

Between the spot where we took up the stranger
and our ultimate destination of Civita Yecchia,
there was no town nor village of importance
enough to warrant the belief that a surgeon could
be found of sufficient skill to be entrusted with so
serious a case as that which the stranger's injury
afforded. We accordingly made the best of our way
to Civita Vecchia itself: but during the remainder
of the journey I had no opportunity of any farther
conversation with Constantine Kanaris, — a few
occasional words in respect to the stranger being
alone exchanged between myself on the box and
the handsome Greek when he thrust his head from
the window.

On entering Civita Vecchia at about noon, I
found that the chaise passed completely through
the town, until it at length drew up at a tavern
near the port ; and this was in pursuance of in-
structions given by Kanaris to the postilions. It
was because the injured stranger himself had
already taken up his quarters at this tavern ; and
with the utmost care on the part of ourselves and
the domestics of the inu, he was lifted from the
vehicle into the establishment. Kanaris and I
saw him deposited upon the bed in the chamber
which, it appeared, he was occupying at the tavern ;
and we waited also until the arrival of a couple of
medical men, in order that we might ascertain
the extent of the injury. This was quite as serious
as we had anticipated : the thigh bone was broken:
but we tarried while it was being set— an operation
which the patient bore with the most stoical calm-
ness. When it was over he thrust out his hand,
first to Constantine, and then to me, with a certain
sailor-like gratitude which seemed so genuine and
sincere that it made me torget at the moment the
savagely ferocious expression of his countenance.
He spoke a few words to Kanaris ; and then on re-
ceiving some intimation from that gentleman — evi-
dently telling him in what language to speak to
me — he addressed me in Prench, — which was how-
ever villanously bad, so that I could only just com-
prehend that he was thanking me for the succour
I had helped to render him.

In the meanwhile I had an opportunity of look-
ing around the apartment ; and I perceived several
articles of wearing apparel, all of a nautical fashion.
Amongst them, I observed a coat with gold lace on
the coUar and cuffs — a pair of pantaloons with
lace-stripes down the sides — and a cap with a broad
gold band round it. I likewise observed a brace
of very large pistols, a brace of smaller ones, a
heavy cutlass, and a sword of a much lighter cha-
racter, with lace too upon the polished leathern
belt. There were several charts on the table in
the room — a compass, and some mathematical in-
struments. All these articles convinced me that
my first impression was correct, and that the
stranger was a mariner — most likely, from the evi-
dences scattered around, the captain of the ship to
which he belonged.

Kanaris and I took our leave of him, promising to
call next day to inquire after his health ; and on
descending into the street, my G-reek companion
said to me, "Our conversation was interrupted by
that incident on the road; and therefore I am yet
in ignorance of your plans. Whither are you
going F"

" In the first instance," I answered, " I will pro-
ceed to the same hotel at which you yourself, as I
think I understood you, purposed to put up."

"Good!" ejaculated Constantine: and having
given the postilions his instructions, he leaped into
the vehicle, I following him. " In case you do
not receive an invitation," he continued, " to stay
at the house for whose master you have a letter of
introduction, you will find the hotel a very com-
fortable one."

" And I should be glad to remain there on youi
account," I responded. " But what make you of
the individual whom we have just left P"

" Oh !" said Kanaris, " I had forgotten to tell
you. His name is Ifotaras; and he is the captain
of some vessel in the port yonder."

JOSEPH •WILMOT; OE, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAX-SEEVAXT.

183

'■ A trading vessel ?" I asked.

" I do not think he specified exactly what the ves-
sel is," replied Constantine : " but it must of course
be a trader. He is a Greek, as you have doubtless
already surmised — but, I must confess, not one of
the most flattering specimens of my nation."

" But if he be the captain of a trader," I ob-
served, " what meant that handsome uniform which
I saw in his apartment ?"

" True ! I noticed it myself," said Kanaris.
" But now that I bethink me, I have observed that
some of these captains of merchant-ships trading
between the Levant and the Italian ports, or up
in the Black Sea, sometimes parade a handsome
uniform. There is vanity amongst them, Mr.
Wilmot, as well as with other classes of society.
But I was about to tell you that this terocious-
looking Captain Notaras, having only recently got
ashore, took it into his head to have a ride on horse-
back ; and his evil fortune mounted him on the
most vicious animal which the livery-stables could
produce. My fellow-countryman may be a very
good seaman, for aught that I know to the con-
trary : but he is certainly a most execrable rider,
as you yourself bad an opportunity of noticing.
The consequence was just what might have been
expected : he received a serious fall — his leg is
broken — he will be for some time incapacitated from
going on board his ship — and he has got to pay for
the horse into the bargain. It is altogether a some-
wliat costly morning's amusement ; and I have no
doubt it will be a long time before Captain Notaras
will again mount on horseback. But here we are
at the hotel."

We alighted: our trunks were conveyed into
the hall — the post-chaise was dismissed — and it
was agreed that we should take refreshments at once,
as the journey had somewhat sharpened our appe-
tites. During the repast we conversed on a variety
of general topics ; and when it was over, I said, '•' I
will now go and deliver my letter ok introduction :
for until I have done so, I am unable to settle the
precise routine of my proceedings."

" I also am going to make a call," said Constan-
tine Kanaris ; " and as I am perfectly well ac-
quainted with every street in Civita Vecchia —
whereas you, it appears, are a perfect stranger
here — it will afford me much pleasure to guide you
to your destination. What is the address — — "

"This is it," I said, producing the letter of in-
troduction which I had received from the Count
of Tivoli.

" Signer Portici 1" exclaimed Kanaris in asto-
nishment: and for a moment — but only for a mo-
ment— an expression of annoyance appeared to flit
over his countenance. " It is also to Signer
Portici's house," he added, somewhat seriously,
" that I myself am bound."

A suspicion instantaneously sprang up in my
mind — with such suddenness indeed, that it might
very probably have betrayed itself in my looks :
for Constantine immediately said, " You now know,
Mr. Wilmot, who is the object of that devoted love
of which I was speaking during the early part of
our journey."

I felt hurt for an instant at the recollection of
the expression of annoyance which I had seen flit
over his features : for it seemed to me that he had
been suddenly smitten with a jealous sentiment —
though he ought to have at once remembered how

I had so explicitly given him to understand that
my heart was likewise engaged.

" Come," he said, with a look and in a tone of
so much friendly kindness that I took it as an en-
deavour to efface whatsoever impression that
transient discontent on his part might have left
upon my mind : " come, lot us proceed thither at
once ; and I flatter myself that your presence in
my company will by no means damage the opinion
which your letter of introduction would by itself
be calculated to induce Signor Portici to form
concerning you."

We issued from the hotel together ; and arm-in-
arm we proceeded through the streets in the direc-
tion whither he conducted me.

" Do not think, Mr. Wilmot," he said, with a
smile, ''that I am iealous of you: for you have
already told me your heart is engaged to another.
But were it otherwise — and were Leonora a dif-
ferent being from what she is — I might really
dread the rivalry oi: one whose good looks are so
well calculated to ensnare the female heart."

I could not help thinking that this was rather a
singular compliment : for whatever pretensions I
might have to good looks, Constantine Kanaris
had certainly no reason to apprehend the rivalry of
any human being on that score.

" You will see in Leonora," he continued, noiv
speaking with all the characteristic ardour of his
passion, " one of the most beautiful creatures that
ever you beheld. Doubtless the object of your
own love will seem more beautiful in your own
eyes : but if for an instant you can throw a veil
over the image of that cherished idol of your
heart's devotion, you will admit that the palm
must then be given to Leonora. Her mind is as
well cultivated as her person is beautiful : she is
highly accomplished — she possesses elegant man-
ners— gay without levity, modest without prudery,
and replete with feminine dignity without the
slightest scintillation of undue pride. But I
daresay that you think me very foolish to burst
forth into this eulogy which may seem rhapsodi-
cal."

"On the contrary," I reaiarked, " you love
tenderly and devotedly ; and there is a manly
frankness in this expression of your admiration for
one who is evidently so worthy of it. I gather
from your discourse that you are already the ac-
cepted suitor of the Signora Portici — and of course
with the assent of her uncle. How can you pos-
sibly mistrust all this happiness which shines upon
you so brightly ? You are rich — you are your
own master — you have no reason to be ashamed
of your personal appearance and manners — yoa
love and are blessed with a reciprocal affection-
there can be no barrier to your union with this

charming young lady How, then, I again ask,

can you doubt the permanence of that happiness
which smiles like a sunlight upon you ?"

Constantine Kanaris stopped suddenly short.
The place was just beyond the end of a street :
there were trees on either side — and no persons
were observing us. He looked at me with a
strangely mournful expression of countenance for
an instant ; and then raising his eyes, he gazed
upward to the Italian sky of unclouded sunlit
azure.

" Look !" he said, " the celestial canopy above
is unmarred by even so much as a speck of 11 'f.^.-

184

JOSEPH WILMOT; OB, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SBEVANT.

vapour : all is one wide expanse of unbroken blue.
But will that smiling aspect of the heaven last for
ever ? — may not the winds arise and the storm-
clouds gather, coming from heaven alone knows
where ! — and in how short a space may all be
gloom over-head, with nature speaking in the
mighty voices of the thunder or darting forth her
ang^y looks in the lightning flashes! May not
that sky which is at present so cloudless, so sunlit
and serene, be taken as the type of human exist-
ence in this world ? Think you therefore, Atr.
Wilmot, that I can remain insensible of these
facts ?— or that knowing them, I can be utterly
without apprehension as to their application to
my own destiny ?"

I really knew not how to answer Constantine
Kanaris : indeed for the moment there appeared
to be so much truth in what he bad just said, that
it came home unto my own heart, and gave me
a shock as if some sinister sibylline tongue had
whispered in my ear words presentient of evil.
And when the recollection struck me, too, that a
deep plot was evidently in progress on the part of
the infamous Lanover against the peace and
security of my well-beloved Annabel— a plot which,
in spite of all my efforts, I might be imable to
defeat — it was no wonder if Constantine's lan-
guage should thus produce a eudden and startling
effect upon me.

" Come," be said, smiling slightly, as if satisfied
that he had at length thus touched me, — " we will
dwell no longer upon mournful topics — we are
close at our destination — and we must put on our
best looks and our brightest smiles, wherewith to
acknowledge the cordial welcome that we are cer-
tain to experience."

The habitation which Constantine thus alluded
to, was situated upon a gentle eminence just out-
side the town. The house itselt was not large, but
of pleasing aspect ; and the gardens were crowded
with evergreens. A low wall, surmounted by an
iron railing, enclosed the grounds, which were
beautifully laid out ; and the site of the dwelling
was all the more agreeable, inasmuch as from the
drawing-room balcony a complete view was ob-
tained of the harbour, with the numerous vessels
moored therein; and beyond the mole the blue
expanse of the Mediterranean was seen stretching
far as the eye could reach. Although the year
was no older than the month of February, yet the
Italian clime appeared to be rejoicing in an early
spring : for the heaven, as already intimated, was
of cloudless azure — and the earth seemed to be
basking happily in the sunny smiles that played
with kisses upon it from above.

As we entered the grounds of Portici Villa,
Constantine Kanaris directed my attention to the
conservatories, through the glass sides of which
might be seen the choicest flowers, the finest
fruits, and the rarest plants, — some of which were
indigenous to Italy itself, and others evidently be-
longing to the tropics : so that I observed to my
companion, " Either Signor Portici or his niece —
but perhaps both — must have an exquisite taste
for the floral beauties and the natural products
whereof we thus catch a glimpse."

" The judge himself," responded Kanaris, " has
such a taste as you describe : but it is the Signora
Leonora who is most attached to the rare and
varied contents of those conservatories."

Our summons at the front door was answered by
a footman in a neat, tasteful, but by no means
rich, much less flaunting livery; and ho bowed
not merely with respect on beholding Eanaris, but
likewise with the air of one who was glad to weU
come again at the dwelling a young gentleman
who was evidently a general favorite there. We
were shown into a drawing-room, which, if not
sumptuously furnished, nevertheless had all its
appointments characterised by an elegant taste. A
piano and harp, and the choicest specimens of
Italian music Ijing in an open portfolio, indicated
the taste and proficiency of the young lady in that
fascinating art. There was another portfolio upon
a side table, and which Xanaris opened in order to
show me the exquisitely executed drawings in
pencil, in chalk, and in water-colours which it con-
tained. I could not help admiring the fervid yet
manly pride which Kanaris displayed in thus af-
fording me such varied proofs of Leonora's elegant
accomplishments: indeed every word and action
on the part of my new friend, when bearing the
slightest reference to the Judge's niece, convinced
me more and more of the profound unfathomable
depth of that love which he experienced for her.

As the reader may have gathered from all I
have been saying, we at first found ourselves alone
in the drawing-room to which we were thus intro-
duced : but not many minutes elapsed before a
young lady made her appearance. She had evi-
dently been told that Constantine Eanaris was not
alone; for instead of bounding into the room with
that joyous fervour which her own ardent dispo-
sition would have otherwise led her to display, she
entered with the more subdued demeanour of one
who knew that she was about to meet a stranger.
Nevertheless Constantine sprang forward to greet
her: their bands were clasped in that warm close
pressure which did indeed convince me how truly
reciprocal was the love of which the handsome
Greek had spoken ; and I had no dL£B.culty in dis-
cerning that in the impassioned ardour of disposi-
tion and character — in the depth of affection and
in the warmth of feeling which Constantine had
already displayed in my presence, he was well
matched by the object of his adoration.

Yes — and not only in sentiment was there this
remarkable fitness in the contemplated alliance of
the pair, but also in their personal beauty. Leo-
nora was a brunette, but with a clear transparency
of skin, and not with that opaque oUve which in
Italian complexions often serves as a veU to pre-
vent the warm blood from being seen mantling
through ; and that delicate duskiness of the com-
plexion was relieved or embr?llished, according as
the reader may choose to consider it, by the rich
redness of the full lips, the jetty pencUliug of the
well-arched brows, the corresponding darkness of
the eyes, and the length of the thick but silken
ebon fringes. And yet it must be understood that
the lips, though full, were very far from coarse ;
the mouth was small, and in a statue would be
pronounced faultlessly chiselled : but they were
slightly pouting lips. And then the eyes too, — if
so dark in colour, they were full of a soft lustre— a
lustre not so brilliant as that which irradiated the
orbs of the handsome Greek himself, but a light
more subdued by feminine reserve, chastity, and
innocence. Leonora was tall : her fi;jure was of
svlphid slenderness, with that graceful though

slight undulation of motion which one could
fancy the best female statues of Grecian and Ita-
lian art would possess if animated with a Pro-
methean fire, or enabled at the prayer of some mo-
dern Pygmalion to become instinct with the sense
of life. Her hair, of the darkest shade which night
itself could give to that luxuriant mass, was ar-
ranged in bands, — thus setting off, as it were, the
complete oval of the faultless countenance ; and it
was gathered up in a Grecian knot at the back of
the well-shaped head. "When Leonora's lips parted
in the smiles that welcomed her lover's return, they
revealed teeth of p^rly enamel and faultlessly
even. Her voice had that flute-like flow of melody
which was so well calculated to give the most
pleasing effect to the rich language of her own native
clime. Constantine Kanaris had said that if I could
possibly for a moment throw a veil over the image
of Annabel and put her altogether beyond the range
of beauty's competition, while mentallv considering
76.

all other lovely claimants to the palm whom I
might have ever known, I could not possibly avoid
bestowing that palm upon Leonora Portici ; and I
had scarcely time to obtain one glance at this beau-
tiful being, before I inwardly confessed the justice
of my Greek friend's predictive assurance.

Before I continue the thread of my narrative, I
may as well observe that Leonora was the daughter
of the Judge's brother, and that both her parents
had died in her infancy. Her uncle, the Judge,
had never been married : he had adopted his niece
from the moment she became an orphan : he
looked upon her as his daughter — he cherished
her with all the afiection he would have bestowed
upon a child of his own — he had reared her with
the most constant care— had provided the best
masters and preceptresses for her education — and
had been most strict (although without the slightest
exercise of tyranny, for of this there was no ne-
cessity for the affectionate and dutiiul Leonora)

isn

JOSEPH WILMOT; OR, THE ?JE1I0IE3 OF A SIAN-SERTANT.

in regulating the friendships or the acquaintances
which she might form. Thus, at the age of one- I
and-t»enty, Signora Portiei was a being of whom |
any relative might be proud as well as fond — j
whose love it was happiness for any admirer to |
win — and whose hand might have been counted j
an honour for even a prince to possess. Happy, ]
then, I thought should Constantiue Xanaris deem
himself to be ; and in the love of such a divine
being it appeared almost sinful to doubt that the
divine blessing would be wanted to render that
happiness complete.

I may now pursue the thread of my tale. When
the first warm greetings were exchanged batween
Leonora and Constantine, the latter — addressing
the y^mg lady in the French language, in order
that 1 might understand what was said, for she
herself spoke it with a most perfect fluency — ob-
served, " This is my friend Mr. Wllmot ; and he
will become a friend of yourself, my dearest
Leonora, and of your excellent uncle likewise, not
only for my sake, but likewise because he is the
bearer of a letter of introduction from an influen-
tial nobleman at Eome."

'•' Mr. TVilmot is truly welcome here," said
Leonora, addressing me with that well-bred ease
which, without undue familiarity, is equally with-
out formal constraint. " My uncle will be here in
a few minutes; and he will repeat the welcome
which I have thus given."

I expressed my gratitude to the young lady for
her kindness ; and placing my letter of introduc-
tion upon the table, intimated that it was penned
by the Count of Tivoli.

" His lordship," said Leonora, " is an old and
intimate friend of my uncle, who will therefore be
all the more delighted to show Mr. "NVilmot every
possible attention But here he is !"

This remark was elicited by the entrance of an
elderly and venerable-looking gentleman. Signor
Portiei was evidently on the other side of sixty ;
but hi3 tall upright form, erect as in his youth —
his firm step — his countenance comparatively un-
wrinkled — his clear blue eye — and his well-
preserved teeth — all indicated the man whose life
had been regularly and temperately passed, who
had known but few cares beyond those which are
inseparable from the lot of humanity in general,
and who was endowed with a contented and cheer-
ful disposition. He possessed a sufficient dignity
to be suitable to the high judicial ofiice which
he held, without sufi'ering it to rise into
hauteur : his manner was calm, yet benevolent —
it may be described as blandly cordial and honestly
frank. There was nothing in this gentleman
which at all savoured of that crabbed mistrust,
morose irritability, or eccentricity of humour,
which are too often allied with an advanced age ;
he looked not with a jaundiced eye upon young i
persons, nor with contempt upon their inex- i
perience, nor with cynical dislike upon their
pursuits: he was tolerant, kind, and just. But of
course the reader will comprehend that I did not
discover all these attributes in the first few mo- I
ments of our acquaintance — though there is
always something in the demeanour of a person ;
which at first sight conveys an impression that
serves as a key, so to speak, to the reading of his I
entire disposition. i

The welcome which the Judge gave to Con- i

stantine Kanaris, was that which became the ex-
cellent feeling experienced by a fond uncle towards
the accepted suitor for the hand of a much-loved
and cherished niece. Then, turning to me — on
learning my name, and on being informed that I
brought a letter of introduction from the Count of
Tivoli — Signor Portiei shook me by the hand, and
repeated that welcome which had been already
given by the amiable and beauteous Leonora.
After some little conversation on general topics,
the Judge proceeded to peruse the letter which I
had laid upon the table ; and when he had finished
it, he asked me to accompany him into another
room — adding with a smile, " I have no doubt
these young people have much to say to each
other after their separation, comparatively brief
though it has been."

Leonora's countenance was suffused with a modest
blush — Constantine surveyed her with the fondest
love — and the judge led me to his library, which
looked upon a lawn at the side of the house. I
should obssrve that he. had all the time been speak*
ing in French — which, as I have stated in a pre-
vious chapter, is well understood by all Italians of
education, Bidding me take a chair near him,
Signor Portiei said, '• The Count of Tivoli's letter
informs me, Mr. AVUmot, that you have come to
Civita Yecchia upon business of no ordinary im-
portance—indeed of a most delicate character, and
requiring much prudence and foresight. I need
hardly assure you that whatsoever help I may
be enabled to render, shall be cheerfully afforded
and perhaps my judicial capacity will place me in
all the better position, by giving me the full com-
mand of police-agencies, to further your views."

I expressed my thanks to Signor Portiei for his
goodness ; and soliciting his patience, proceeded to
unfold enough of everything which related to my-
self— to Sir Mathew Heseltine, his daughter, and
granddaughter — as well as to 'Mi. Lanover and Mr.
Dorchester, to make him comprehend the position
of those affairs in which I was now mixed up, or
in which I was resolved to interfere. I explained
likewise how I had received such special and im-
portant information from the prisoners at Rome ;
and how Lanover and Dorchester were to be at
Civita Vecchia on the ensuing Monday (this being
the Friday of which I am now writing). I forgot
not to add that it suited my purpose to remain, if
possible, so far in the back-ground as to be an
unseen assistant of Sir Mathew and the two ladies;
but that of course this must depend entirely on
circumstances, inasmuch as I should rest upon no
punctilios of that sort if events took a turn com-
pelling me to appear conspicuously and promi-
nently in the matter.

The Judge listened to me with the kindest
patience; and wuen I had finished speaking, he
said, " I understand, Mr. Wilmot, that as you
have thus admitted me to your confidence, I am
to reveal to others as little as may be of all these
circumstances; — and it shall be so. But in the
second place I must ask you a few questions. How
long ago was it that you delivered Sir Mathew
Heseltine and his family from the banditti in the
Appenines .'^"

" Xearly three months," I answered.

"And when they departed thence," continued
the Judge, '■ had you no notion of the direction
they intended to pursue f "

JOSEPH V^rrLMOT ; OE, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT.

187

"None," I replied.

" You therefore cannot form the least idea of
whether they purposed to return into central or
southern Italy? You do not know whether they
intended to pay Civita Vecchia or its neighbour-
hood a visit ?"

" I cannot speak with any degree of certainty
upon the point," was my answer : " but still it
would be singular if after going in a northward
direction — which they were certainly doing when,
proceeding from Florence, they began to traverse
the Appenines — they should have afterwards
altered their plan and taken a southerly course.
It must however be borne in mind that their time
is entirely their own — that Sir Matthew Heseltine
is somewhat an eccentric character "

"In this case," interrupted the Judge, "we
must not act upon surmise — we must go upon cer-
tainties— and to whatsoever these certainties are
we must endeavour to find a clue. You say
that the name of the Earl of Eccleston was men-
tioned in a sinister manner by Lanover and Dor-
chester at their confereneo in the ruin near Mag-
liano — and that from antecedent circumstances, it
is quite possible this nobleman may harbour evil
designs against yourself, though you cannot com-
prehend wherefore he should experience any in-
terest in succouring Lanover in a coercive scheme
with respect to Sir Matthew Heseltine. Now, I
tell you what I will do," proceeded the Judge,
after a few moments' reflection : " I will at once
take measures to ascertain whether Sir Matthew
and his party are anywhere in this neighbourhood:
I will adopt the same course in respect to the Earl
of Eccleston; and I will order the strictest watch
to be kept, so that the instant any such persons as
may answer to the description of Lanover and
Dorchester set foot in Civita Vecchia, the fact may
be communicated to me. But I will do more — I
will at once write off to many of the principal
towns of Italy, to learn if possible where Sir
Matthew Hesseltine and his party may be. In a
word, my dear Mr. Wilmot, everything shall
be done which human foresight can suggest,
and which lies in my power to accomplish, in order
to unravel the sinister mystery — to baffle the ini-
quitous plot which is no doubt in progress — and to
carry out your aims to a successful issue."

I warmly and sincerely thanked the Judge for
his kindness ; and he then said, " Under different
circumstances, it would have afforded me the ut-
most pleasure to receive you as a guest at my
house during your residence at Civita Vecchia:
but if it were known to Lanover and Dorchester
that you are on terms of intimacy with me — if it
were even suspected by them that you are ac-
quainted with me at all — it would only excite a
suspicion that their designs are more or less fa-
thomed : they would in this case redouble their
precautions, and thereby render it all the more
difficult for us to keep a continuous watch over
their proceedings. On the other hand, if our
acquaintance be unsuspected, they will regard your
presence in Civita Vecchia as a mere coincidence ;
and they will be all the more completely thrown
off their guard. Eest assured that no injury
shall occur to you from any deep-laid villainy on
their part. Take up your quarters at a different
hotel from that where Signer Kanaris is lodging :
it will not even be wise for you to be seen on in-

timate terms with him — as it may be known that
he is intimate here. In a word, Mr. "Wilmot, the
utmost caution must be exercised."

I thanked the Judge for the counsel which he
had thus given me, and which I faithfully pro-
mised to observe.

" As a great deal of what we have been speak-
ing involves private and personal matters," pro-
ceeded Signor Portici, " I presume that you do
not iuteua to be communicative even to your new
friend Const:intine Kanaris ; and therefore as he
might possibly think it strange or feel hurt that you
do not purpose to reside at the same hotel where ho
is staying, you had perhaps better leave it to me
to give him a suitable hint upon the subject."

To this proposition I likewise readily assented ;
and the Judge then led the way back to the
drawing-room, where he had left his niece and
Kanaris. In consequence of the beauty of the
weather, the casements were open ; and the
Judge invited me to step forth upon the balcony
to admire the fine view which could thence be ob-
tained. He pointed out to me several villas as
picturesquely situated as his own ; and directing
my attention to the port, he bade me observe the
numerous vessels which were lying there, and
which belonged to many different nations. Taking
a telescope, Signor Portici examined the shipping
through that medium for some minutes— and then
passed it to me.

"Tliey are all trading vessels, I presume?" I
said, after a brief pause.

" Yes," was the response. " We had an
Austrian frigate here the other day — and I was
just looking to see if she were in the anchorage
still : but I find that she is gone."

"I am not a very good judge of nautical
matters," I presently said : " but it appears to me
that there is a very beautiful vessel lying yonder
by itself. Its hull is completely black : but there
is something so graceful in its shape— there is
such an elegance in its tapering masts, and such a
neatness in its rigging, that even to my inex-
perienced view it is distinguished from all the
other vessels there."

" Yes," remarked the Judge : " I have myself
observed that vessel of which you are speaking.
It is rigged as a schooner— its masts have a pecu-
liar slope, or what seamen would call a rake —
and as you justly say, a very beautiful craft she
is. I beheld her enter the port when she arrived
about a week back ; and I had intended several
times to ask what she is — but I haVe always for-
gotten to do so when in the town."

"What flag does she carry?" I inquired. " I
do not recognise it."

" Our friend Constantine Kanaris," answered
the Judge, with a smile, " would speedily tell you
what flag it is : for that banner is one which his
own uncle "

" Ah, then, I comprehend !" I ejaculated : " it
is the Greek flag which this beautiful vessel bears ?
I certainly should not have taken her for a trader.
Indeed, if she bore the English flag I should sup-
pose her to be some nobleman's or gentleman's
yacht. Perhaps she belongs to the Greek Govern-
ment ?"

"No," answered the Judge : "for in this case
she would carry a pennant — whereas you perceive
she has none. Kanaris, my dear friend," continuea

188

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OB, THE MEMOIBS OF A MAN-SEEVANT.

Siguor Portici, thus summoning his niece's suitor
from the drawing-room ; " have you had the
curiosity to ask what that beautiful vessel is which
bears the flag of your nation ?"

" You forget, my dear sir," answered the young
Greek with a smile, " that T have only just returned
from Naples, after an absence of three weeks
from Civita Vecchia."

" True !" observed the Judge ; " and this
schooner only arrived a week or ten days back.
Is she not a charming vessel ?"

Constantino took the telescope, and examined
for some minutes the object of the Judge's eulogy.
He then said, " Yes, she is a beautiful model ; and
if I mistake not, she is one of those fast traders
that run up into the Black Sea. I remember my
uncle explaining to me one day that vessels
trading to the ports in that sea are built in a
peculiar manner, so as to enable them to resist the
sudden squalls which at particular seasons sweep
over the Euxine. Yes — she is a Black Sea
trader — there can be no doubt of it."

Leonora had iu the meantime joined u» upon
the balcony — where we all remained conversing
for a little while longer ; and then the Judge pro-
posed that we should visit the conservatories —
adding that he intended to keep us to dinner.

" For now that you are here, Mr. Wilmot," he
whisperingly observed to me, "I shall not part
with you until the evening j — and when once the
matters which we have ia hand are settled and
disposed of to your satisfaction— as I hope and
trust they will be— I shall do my best by all pos-
sible hospitalities to make up for the interval
during which you will have to absent yourself
altogether from the villa."

" You are tolerably confident, Signor," I said,
cheered by his words, " that we sJiall succeed iu
this most unpleasant business ?"

" I do not like to promise anything rashly,"
answered Signor Portici : " but I will go so far as
to bid you not be cast down."

We visited the conservatories ; and the time
was pleasantly whiled away until the dinner hour.
During this repast I had a better opportunity of
judging of the intellectual qualities of Leonora,
inasmuch as the conversation now was general,
whereas it had previously been chiefly distributed
between the young lady and her lover on the one
baud, and the Judge and myself on the other
hand. I have already said that Leonora spoke
French with perfect fluency; and I soon found
that Constantine's eulogy of her mental accom-
plishments had not been in the least degree ex-
aggerated. She was altogether a very amiable
young lady : her disposition was characterized
by the deep impassioned fervour which distin-
guishes Italia's sons and daughters : but her soul
was all innocence and purity — her love was a re-
fined sentiment — and though capable of such
ardour, was nevertheless sublimated beyond the
tincture of earthly grossness. It was indeed an
interesting spectacle to behold this tender pair, —
that young Greek realizing all artistic ideas of
manly classic beauty, and that charming Leonora
presenting so exquisite a type of Italiaa loveli-
liuss !

Shortly after ten o'clock in the evening Kanaris
and I took our leave,— the Judge whispering to
mo as ho sbook me by the hand at the gate, '" I

shall adopt some means of conveying to you any
communication that I may have to make in pri-
vate : but I hope the day will soon arrive when
you may iu all security, in peace, and in happiness,
revisit my abode."

CHAPTEE CXVI,

Kaxaeis and I walked on together in silence for
two or three minutes after leaving the Judge's
hospitable villa, — the young Greek no doubt ab-
sorbed in tender reflections on all that had taken
place between himself and Leonora, and I ponder-
ing in my mind the chances of success in the en-
deavour to frustrate the nefarious schemes of Mr.
Lauover. At length Kanaris observed ia the
same tone of friendly frankness in which he had
all along addressed me, "Signor Portici has in-
formed me that private aflairs will compel you to
take up your quarters at another hotel from that
where we stopped to-day; and he has likewise
hinted that for some little while we must not ex-
pect to see much of you. Now, understand me
well, my dear Mr. Wilmot. Though young, I
have yet seen just enough of the world to be con-
vinced of the propriety of divesting myself of all
undue curiosity in respect to the proceedings of
others : therefore you need not experience the
slightest uncomfortable feeling at being unable to
give me any explanation relative to the necessity
of this temporary severance. At the same time I
will observe that if under any circumstances you
should require the succour of a friend— no matter
how difiicult the emergency — you have nothing to
do but to send for Constantine Kanaris, aud he
will servo you with cheerfulness and enthu-
siasm."

I was deeply touched with the generosity of my
new acquaintance; and I warmly expressed my
gratitude for the assurances he had just given me.
Hastily turning the conversation into another
channel, he asked me whether my opinion of his
Leonora realized all he had previously said in her
favour — or whether I considered that in the
romantic ardour of his afiection he had been led
into hyperbolical extravagance? I assured him
that according to my thinking he had every reason
to felicitate himself in possessing the love of a
being whose personal beauty was only equalled
by the amiability of her disposition and by her
mental accomplishments ; and I concluded by
asking if he did not now feel himself supremely
happy ? He replied in the afiirmative. The
word was spoken with a gushing enthusiasm
of tone; and yet I was surprised— nay, almost
startled — when the very next instant a sigh was
wafted to my ear. It was one of those sighs
which the utterer endeavours to subdue but cannot
altogether succeed in keeping back ; it was not a
sigh of pleasure— not the sigh of deep inefi;\ble
bliss ; but it was a sigh which too plainly told how
some sudden anxiety, misgiving, or foreboding, had
supervened upon that gush of feeling with which
the assurance of perfect happiness had an instant
before been given. Yes — I was astonished : and
my prulbundest sympathies were again excited "ii

JOSEPH WILMOT; OB, THE MEMOIES OF A MAN-SEBTANT.

189

behalf of this young man, who, apparently with
every reason to rejoice in one of the most favoured
lots that a mortal creature could know, was never-
theless haunted and pursued by a constantly
recurring mistrust of his own favoured position.

We reached the hotel, and bade each other
adieu for the -present. Signor Portici had men-
tioned to me the name of another inn where I
should find comfortable quarters; and thither I
accordingly removed that very night : for I was
resolved to follow the worthy Judge's counsel in all
things, and to adopt every precaution that might
be necessary for the carrying out of the plans in
which I was embarked. *•

On the following day— which was Saturday — I
was about to stroll out after breakfast, when the
waiter said to me, " I believe, sir, that you have
been making inquiries for a valet to attend upon
you during your residence in this town ?"

I was about to give vent to an ejaculation of
astonishment, when it instantaneously struck me
that it might not be altogether a mistake, and
that there was some significancy in the circum-
stance. I accordingly said nothing ; and the waiter
proceeded to observe, "Because, if such is the
case, sir, here is a person waiting for the honour of
an interview ; and he bade me be sure to tell you
that he bears excellent recommendations from a
gentleman of your acquaintance."

I ordered the waiter to show the individual to
my apartment ; and in a few moments a middle-
aged man, of sedate appearance, but with an
inscrutable expression of countenance, was ushered
into my presence. The waiter retired ; the appli-
cant took the precaution of seeing that the door
was closed behind him : and then accosting me, he
said in French, " Signor Portici recommends me,
sir, to your service — for the present."

" And no better recommendation could possibly
be needed," I answered. " You are "

'• An olUcer of the secret police," responded
the man, in a low voice and with a significant
look.

" I thought so. But in that case," I added,
" are you not well known in this town ? — will not
the people of the hotel recognise you ? will it not
be thought strange "

" Eest satisfied, Mr. Wilmot, upon all these
points," interrupted the officer. " I do not be-
long to Civita Vecchia : I have only been here a
Few days — and no one in the town except Signor
Portici, and yourself of course, is aware of who or
what 1 am. I belong properly to Ostia — a Eoman
town, as I need scarcely inform you, which is situ-
ated at the mouth of the Tiber. I came to Civita
Vecchia on a certain business concerning which I
need give no explanation : but late last night, after
you had left the Portici villa, I considered it ne-
cessary to seek an interview with the Judge him-
self— and he then instructed me to attach myself
to your person for the present. His object is two-
fold— in the first place to establish a safe medium
of communication between himself and you, and
in the second place that you may be protected in
case of any active development of the treachery of
those whose nefarious plans you have only too much
reason to suspect. I answer to the name of Cosmo;
and you must treat me in all respects as if I were
actually your valet, so that not the slightest suspi-
cion may be entertained at the hotel that I am

aught else than what I seem to be. One word
more, sir," added Cosmo : " you will do well not
to venture out of an evening unless previously no-
tifying your intention to me, so that I may follow
you at a respectful distance, and thus be at hand
for any emergency that may transpire."

""Whatever counsel you may give me," I re-
sponded, " rest assured that I shall follow it.
Moreover you may rely upon my liberality in re-
compensing you for any services you may be
enabled to render me."

Cosmo bowed — and proceeded to say, " The par-
ticular business which has brought me to Civita
Vecchia, allows me to devote my time likewise to
you, sir : or, to quote a saying which prevails in
all countries and in all languages, I may kill two
birds with one stone. But perhaps you will be
surprised when I state that you yourself may pos-
sibly be enabled to render me assistance in the
business which originally brought me to Civita
Vecchia."

" Indeed ?" I exclaimed. " And in what man-
ner ?"

"Pardon me, sir," rejoined Cosmo, "if I am
nou more communicative at present. You are
very young "

" And you fancy, perhaps, that I am incautious
and imprudent ?" I interrupted him somewhat
sharply : and I felt the blood mantling on my
cheeks.

" Very far, Mr. Wilmot, was it from my inten-
tion to insult you," replied Cosmo calmly but re-
spectfully. "When you come to know me better,
you will appreciate that caution which a long ex-
perience has rendered habitual on my part. But
I beg your pardon, sir — you were about to walk
into the town when I was introduced to your pre-
sence. Perhaps you will allow me to attend upon
you ? 1 have already seen enough of the place to
be enabled to point out everything that is at all
worth your inspection. The weather has changed
since yesterday : it threatens rain — I will carry
your upper coat and this umbrella."

I at once saw that Cosmo was a man of cool
head and that he was thoroughly self-possessed,
shrewd and far-seeing, and had a motive for every-
thing he said or did. I perceived also that he was
not an individual to be diverted from any course
which he had to adopt ; but that he would pursue
it steadily and methodically — indeed in that man-
ner which was best calculated to ensure success.
Signor Portici's recommendation of such a man
was alone sufiicient to inspire me with the fullest
confidence, not merely in his integrity, but also in
his ability and intelligence. At the same time I
could not conceal from myself that there was a
certain dogmatic air of command about Cosmo, —
as if having taken my affair in hand, he felt him-
self perfectly justified in defining the course that
I also was to pursue, and in guiding my move-
ments according as he might think fit. But I did
not, under existing circumstances, consider it at all
consistent with policy or prudence to assert an in-
dependent spirit, though J was somewhat wounded
by the idea that Cosmo had no very high opinion
of my own judgment — or at all events that he
had made up his mind to know me better before
he thought fit to become more communicative.
There was a certain dictatorial air, and yet per-
fectly respectful, in which he had almost bidden

190

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OE, THE ITEJIOIES OF A ITAN-SERVAITT.

me go out for my intended walk aud be followed
by himself. I however, as above intimated, saw
the necessity of leaving myself in his hands ; and
I inwardly vowed that by no folly or indiscretion
on my part should there be a chance of marring
those plans that were in progress for baiSing the
contemplated schemes of Lanover and his accom-
plices.

I walked forth from the hotel — Cosmo following
with my overcoat and umbrella, which he had
evidently undertaken to carry that he might the
better assume the character of the dependant. He
escorted me to the public buildings, in the in-
spection of which two or three hours were passed
— until at length I found myself near the port and
close by that tavern where Captain Ifotaras had
established his quarters. I was thus suddenly
reminded of the promise I had given on the pre-
ceding day to call and see the injured mariner :
but it struck me that there might be some impru-
dence in the step, as it was possible I should there
encounter Constantine Kanaris, whose society I
was for the present to avoid.

" You appear to hesitate at something, sir,"
said Cosmo, approaching me and touching his
hat with that air of becoming respect which a
menial exhibits towards his master. " I think I
can conjecture what is passing in your mind : you
are deliberating with yourself whether you shall
call upon Captain iXotaras ?"

" Precisely so," I exclaimed, wondering how-
Cosmo could have possibly fathomed my thoughts.

'•' The incident relative to Captain Notaras was
yesterday mentioned to Signor Portici," Cosmo
went on to observe, with his wonted calmness of
speech and demeanour, " either by yourself or
Signor Kanaris ; and the Judge mentioned it
among other things to me last night. There can
be no harm, sir, in your calling upon the injured
man."

" In that case I wiU do so," I observed. " You
can await me here : I shall not be many minutes :"
— and I was moving away towards the tavern
when Cosmo touched me on the arm as if to de^
tain me. " What is it ?" I asked.

" You might take the opportunity, sir," returned
my attendant, " to proffer a bouquet of flowers —
or some fruit — or a jelly— or any little delicacy
which this tavern is not likely to be able to supply,
but which your hotel could at once furnish."

"' And why so f I inquired : " why should I
proffer these things ?"

" Through civility to an invalid," rejoined
Cosmo : but his eyes glanced significantly on me
for a moment, and I at once comprehended that
there was a deeper meaning than his mere words
had seemed to convey, and that he had some
ulterior purpose to serve.

" It shall be as you have suggested," I said:
and no longer detained by Cosmo, I at once en-
tered the tavern.

I was conducted to the chamber of Captain
Ifotaras, who welcomed me with that sailor-like
bluntness to which I have before alluded, and
which seemed replete wish a good-humoured cor-
diality considerably at variance with the naturally
ferocious expression of his countenance. He was
of course lying in bed; and being unshaven as well
as unkempt, his look was even more savage and
repulsive than on the preceding day: but still I

endeavoured to put his appearance out of the
question, and to regard him only with the com-
passionating sympathy that seemed due to one
who had been so seriously injured. He cursed,
with many bitter imprecations, his foUy in having
taken it into his head to go on horseback,
being almost totally unaccustomed to such a means
of conveyance : yet it was with noKmall ditBculty
I could discover his precise meaning, so execrably
bad was the French that he spoke : I inquired
what the medical attendants had said of him this
morning : he answered that he was getting on as
well as could possibly be expected— but broke out
into fresh anathemas against his own folly,
" which had thus waterlogged him at a moment
when be ought to be in readiness to hoist all sail
and take advantage of the first favourable wind."

" Will your vessel have to wait in the port," I
inquired, ■ until you axe able to resume your com-
mand ? or will she have to go without you ?'

"Ah! that all depends upon circumstances,"
responded H'otaras, with another prolonged and
heavy curse.

" And which is yoxir vessel ?" I asked, moving
towards the window, which commanded a view of
the entire harbour.

•* Eun your eyes, my young friend, along all that
shipping," said the captain, — "single out the one
which you fancy to be the loveliest model there —
never mind the colour— don't be led away by the
painting of some of those flaunting-looking barts
— but consider well which looks the likeliest vessel
to skioi swiftest through the water "

" In that case," I interrupted him, " I have no
difficulty in signalizing the schooner with the black
hull and the rakins: masts. Indeed, I was admir-
ing it yesterday " and I was just on the point

of adding, " from Signor Portici's balcony," when
I remembered that I was by no means to mention
to a soul my intimacy with the Judge : and I felt
convinced too that Kanaris had received a hint
from the same quarter to abstain from coupling
my name with that of Signor Portici.

'■'Then that very schooner you so well describe,"
exclaimed Notaras, "is the ship that I have the
honour to command. Did you ever see a lovelier
craft ? — does she not float like a bird upon the
water ? With her sharp-pointed bow a trifle higher
than the stern — her masts tapering with so much
elegance and grace— and all the tracery of her rig-
ging standing out as it were in euch relief against
the background of the sky, it's just like a ship in a
picture ! Aye, and its enough to make even a rude
uncouth brute such as I am, poetical to think of
that lovely craft !"

" You may indeed felicitate yourself upon com-
manding a beautiful vessel," I observed. " I pre-
sume you trade into the Black Sea ?"

"Yes — and at times to the Italian ports," an-
swered Notaras : " or else she would not be hero
now."

" Has Signor Kanaris called upon you to-day ?"
I inquired, — "your fellow-countryman, I mean —
the gentleman who was with me yesterday "

" Oh ! his name is Xanaris, is it .''" said the
Captain. " Then I suppose ho must be a rela-
tion ■"

" Of the famous Admiral of the same name," I
added : " and proud may he indeed be of such dis-
tinguished kinship."

;f08BPH WILMOT; OE, TTlfi jtEAtOIES OP A l^i^AN'-STIRVAyT.

191

"No — he has not called yet," answered the Cap-
tain: "but I suppose he will presently. It is
cursed dull, I can tell you, to be cooped up here
in this place instead of pacing the quarter-deck of
that noble vessel of mine. But it can't be
helped i" — and notwithstanding this philosophical
conclusion to which the Greek captain had just
come, he gave vent to another bitter impreca-
tion.

'•• Will you excuse me," I said, "for ofiFering to
render your apartment a trifle more cheerful by
s.'uding a few flowers ? I think I can procure
Bomefrom a conservatory in the town. I can pro-
mise some fruit likewise ; and as the larder of this
tavern may be better supplied with substantials
than with delicacies, I shall use the privilege which
one may exercise in respect to an invalid's cham-
ber by forwarding a jelly, or some little trifle of
the sort, at the same time."

" Thanks for your courtesy," was the Captain's
response; "and though I care little enough for
kick shaws of that kind, yet it would be rude to
reject what is so handsomely proffered."

'■ I shall call and see you again at my leisure,"
I said — and then took my departure.

On rejoining CoBmo, he asked, " How fares the
invalid, sir ?"

" As his accident occurred but yesterday," I re-
sponded, " there has been no time tor much pro-
gress towards convalescence. The fellow's temper
is irritable ; and methinks that his impatience wUl
keep him back. Look ! It is that beautiful
vessel yonder, which is moored all alone — apart
from the other shipping — which owns him as com-
mander."

Cosmo threw a glance of what appeared to be
complete indifference towards the schooner — and
immediately said, " Did you bear in mind, sir, the
suggestion which I offered ?"

" Yes— and I was almost sorry that I made the
proposal," I replied : " for though accepted, it was
nevertheless in a half brutal, half churlish man-
ner "

"Never mind, sir," interrupted Cosmo: "these
mariners are rude uncouth beings— but they some-
times appreciate an act of kindness more than
they outwardly appear to do. You seem to ad-
mire that vessel, sir — your gaze is fixed upon it ?"
" Though unable to view it with a seaman's
eye," was my answer, " I nevertheless comprehend

its beauty as a model "

" And perhaps you would like to go on board
her ?" said Cosmo, inquiringly. "We have plenty
of time — for I shall wait for the dusk ere I visit a
certain house " — alluding to Signer Portici's— " in
order to procure the fruits and flowers which you
have promised that Greek captain."

"You ask me," I said, " whether I should like
to go on board that beautiful ship ; and I confess
that I have the curiosity — but perhaps the permis-
sion will be refused ?"

" Scarcely, sir, I should think," answered Cosmo :
"it would be the height of discourtesy for the offi-
cer who may be in command during the captain's
illness, to refuse you admission to the vessel. At
all events we will try."

C/Osmo did not wait for any further signification
of my assent — but at once hailed a boatman, who
wns lying along some pieces of timber on the
^^ liart and kicking his naked feet up and down in

the air. In an instant he flew to his boat,— I and
Cosmo following, but at a somewhat more moderate
pace. We took our seats : the boatman pushed
off— and betaking himself to his oars, he beo-an
pulling vigorously therewith, so that the light gon-
dola-shaped wherry cut rapidly through the water.
The nearer we approached the schooner, the more
was I impressed with her elegant build, as well as
the admirable neatness which characterized her
rigging, and in contrast with which that of all the
other vessels in the harbour was clumsy, slovenly,
and negligent to a degree. The reader must recol-
lect that I was not a complete stranger to a fine-
looking ship, — in proof of which I need only re-
mind him of my terrible adventure on board the
emigrant-vessel to which Lanover's treachery had
consigned me : for though I was only for a few
hours an inmate of that ill-fated ship, yet all the
scenes connected with it were only too well calcu-
lated to rivet its entire aspect — hull, masts, cordage,
sails, everything — in my memory.

The boat ran along the schooner's side ; a sailor
with a blue jacket and a red fez, or Greek cap,
looked over the bulwark and put some question,
but it was in his own native language. Cosmo
spoke to him in Italian : he shook his head, but
made a sign for us to wait in the boat, — having
done which, he disappeared. Pour or five other
sailors, similarly dressed, and all fine-looking fellows,
with dark complexions and bright eyes, stared at us
in a cool listless manner over the ship's side ; and
as I ran my eye along the bulwarks, I said to
Cosmo, "I am very much mistaken if this vessel
does not carry guns : for though the port-holes are
closed, yet I can distinctly perceive their square
outlines — or rather, the places where the lids, or
whatever you call them, are shut down."

" Indeed," said Cosmo, but with au air of such
apparent indifference that I did not choose to con-
tinue the conversation.

In about a minute a smart-looking officer ap-
peared at the gangway, and addressed us in
Italian. Cosmo answered him, at the same time
looking towards me : so that I had no difficulty in
comprehending that he was explaining my wish to
go on board the vessel. The officer appeared un-
certain how to act; and then Cosmo boldly as-
sured him that I was a friend of Captain Notaras.
whom indeed I had only just left. Still the officer
did not give an immediate assent — but conversed
for a few moments with another, evidently his
junior, who had come forward to see what was
going on. Another question was now put to
Cosmo : and I understood a sufficiency of Italian
to comprehend that it was an inquiry as to who he
himself was. This he answered by declaring that
he was my domestic ; and after a few minutes'
more hesitation, the senior officer of the two made
a sign for us to ascend to the deck.

Although on appioaching the vessel I was im-
pressed with the idea that her dimensions were
far greater than I could possibly have anticipated
when viewing her from the shore, or even through
Signer Portici's telescope, — yet I was perfectly
astonished on setting my foot upon the deck, at
the sweeping length of the schooner as well as her
breadth of beam. A first glance showed me also
that my conjecture relative to her being an armed
vessel was correct : for she carried eight carronades
on her quarter-deck j and these were now drawn

192

JOSEPH TVltMOT ; OB, THE MBM0IE3 OP A MAN-SERVANT.

in from Lor port-holes, — the ports themselres being
closed. As there was no chequered streak of
white along the ship's sides, as is usual with vessels
carrying guns — but all the exterior was one uni-
form unbroken surface of black— it was no wonder
that the schooner on being viewed from the land,
Ehould have utterly failed to excite the suspicion
that she was armed. I beheld no merchandise:
not a single bale of goods, nor sack of corn, nor
crate of wine was visible upon the deck : neither
were there any signs of that activity and bustle
which generally prevail in traders: the entire
equipment was as neat, as perfect, and in an order
as good as if it were a vessel in the naval service
of some first-rate maritime Power. The deck was
scrupulously clean ; and the smart, neatly-dressed,
cleanly-looking sailors were lounging about as if
they had no earthly thing to do. The officer, who
at first addressed us, and who was evidently the
one now in command in the captain's absence,
bowed with a sufficient politeness to me, when,
followed by Cosmo, I set foot upon the deck : but
he did not offer to conduct me over the vess8l-~ho
stood still, looking as if he had much rather that I
had not come thither at all. Cosmo was not how-
ever the man to see me baffled in my desire to in-
spect the ship — at least not without making
another efiort on my behalf. He addressed a few
words to the officer, — who thereupon turning to
me, said, " Ah ! I understand you speak French ?
Your valet should have told me so before."

" Yes — I speak French ?" was my anssver given
in the language itself. '• I am very much afraid
that my curiosity to view this beautiful vessel of
your's, has put you to some inconvenience or has
infringed some rule "

"You are an Englishman, sir, your servant has
told me," interrupted the officer, — " and travelling
in Italy for your pleasiu-e. Is it so ?"

I answered in the affirmative : and methought
that he eyed me in somewhat a searching manner.

''You are acquainted with Captain Notaras?"
continued the officer.

''Your captain can tell you the nest time you
see him, whether when he met with his accident,
he was not assisted by an English gentleman of
the name of Wilmot. Indeeti, I have just been t«
call on him at the tavern yonder."
. "And why did you not ask Lira for a written
order to visit the schooner ?" was the next ques-
tion.

" Simply because I did not think of it at the
time : my idea of visiting your vessel at all was an
after-thought. But really, sii-," I added, somewhat
indignantly, " if I could have foreseen that I should
be putting you to aU this inconvenience "

"Z!fot another word, sir!" interrupted the officer,
who was evidently hurt and chagrined at having
conducted himself in a way which began to border
on downright discourtesy. "I owe you an ex-
planation. The fact is, Captain Notai-as is very
i particular and will not allow strangers to board
I his vessel. I am now temporarily in command, it

I is true — but the captain is a severe man " '

j " And you are atraid," I exclaimed, " of the re-

sponsibility which you are incurring by admitting
ine and my domestic on board ? I will therefore
at once, su'," I added coldly, "retire to the
boat."

" Ifot so I" rejoined the officer quickly : and I

may observe that he was about five-and-thirty
years of age, of gentlemanly demeanour, and with
manners naturally polite. " I owed you an ex-
planation— and have given it : I now owe you au
apology for the seeming rudeness of my behaviour
— and I beg you to accept it. Do me the favour
to follow, and I will show you the vessel."

His manner had now become so truly courteous,
and he appeared so anxious to efface whatever un-
pleasant impression his former bearing might have
left upon my mind, that I hesitated not to accept
his invitation.

" You see we are obliged to carry guns," he
said, glancing in a sort of careless way towards the
carronades : '•' but unfortunately, sir, there are a
set of unprincipled villains belonging to our nation
who do not hesitate to prey upon their fellow-
countrymen as well as upon foreigners "

" You mean pirates, I presume ?" I inteijecfc-
ingly observed.

" Exactly so," was the response. " And as we
trade chiefly in the Levant or in the Black
Sea "

'• But," I exclaimed in astonishment, " I thought
the days for piracy had gone by — and that French
and English ships-of-war were always in sufficient
force in the Mediterranean to keep it clear of cor-
sairs ?"

*' Not so, sir," rejoined the officer. " And then,
too, those infidel rascals, the subjects of the Bey of
Tunis, do not mind now and then sending out an
armed ship to prey upon vessels of our nation, —
just as if they bore letters of marque fully justi-
fying them in pouncing upon Greek traders."

"You astonish me!" I observed. "I should
have thought that the Sultan would have forced
his vassal Bey to observe all suitable terms of peace
towards your country."

"The Turks never will forgive us," continued
the Greek, '• for having succeeded in shaking off
their yoke. But pray step down into the cabin ;
and perUaps, sir, I shall bo enabled to find a flask
of Cyprus by way oi refreshment."*

The stairs leading doivn into the cabin, were of
polished wood and had handsome brass handraiU ;
and the cabin itself was exceedingly well furnished
withottotnaas, stools, tables, carpets, draperies, &2.,
I must confess that for a trading vessel I was asto-
nished at the evidences of luxury which now met
my view. The door of one of the state-rooms, or
smaller side-cabins, stood open ; and a glance
Q^uii'X therein showed me as comfortable and in-
deed as elegantly appointed a couch as could be
met with in an Euglish gentleman's yacht. The
officer begged me to be seated ; and he indicated a
camp-stool for the accommodation of Cosmo, —
who, somewhat obtrusively and inconsistently for
his character of a valet, had followed us down into
this cabin. I saw that the officer looked rather
annoyed : but as he was now evidently bent on
making an atonement for his former discourtesy,
he quickly banished that expression of surprise
from his countenance. A llask of wine was
speedily produced, together witli a filigree basket
of cakes; and when the offioer had filled our
glasses, he poured out a third, motioning Cosmo
to take it.

As I looked around the cabin, I was enabled to
comprehend by its shape as well as by its position,
that it did not extend completely to the stern of

JOSEPH WILMOT; or, THE MEilOIBS OP A 5rAX-3EI'.VAXT

the vessel, and that therefore anothei- eabiu moEt
pvobably lay beyond. This idea led me to glance
behind at the partition against which I was
sitting ; and I perceived a door.

" I have not yet taken you half over the ship,"
said the officer with a smile — for he was now all
politeness : and rising from the ottoman he opened
the door in the partition.

I followed him, and now found myself in a still
larger cabin, fitted up in a sumptuous manner —
indeed with a true oriental luxury. Upon a small
beaufet there were several articles of plate : a silver
lamp was suspended to one of the beams over-
heard ; and this cabin had the advantage of three
small windows in the stern. But these windows,
I saw, could be likewise rendered available for
another purpose ; inasmuch as there were three
brass cannon, not more tiian two feet in length,
but of great width of bore, ready to serve as
stern-cliasers in case of need. The mainmast
77.

penetrated through the decks just within the par-
tation which separated the two cabins ; and round
it was a stand of muskets, all in beautiful order.

'•' This," I presume, " is the captain's cabin P" I
said to the officer, after admiring the aspect of all

j I beheld.

j " Yes — this is the captain's cabin/' he an-
swered : and methought that it was indeed no
matter of surprise if in the comparatively poor

' and mean chamber at the tavern. Captain Notaras
should regret his comfortable quarters on board
his ship : the wonder to me now was that be
should ever have exchanged these quarters at all
for the cheerless and sordid room at the inn.

Cosmo had followed us into this cabin ; and yet
he di'l not seem to be inspired by any Qf the

' curiosity which animated myself — for he stood in
a sort of listless indifferent manner, without

1 taking even an ordinary notice of anything be
beheld. The officer invited me to continue my

194

JOSEPH WII-JIOT; OE, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SEEVANT.

inspection in the other parts of the ship : we ac-
cordingly ascended to the deck again j and pro-
ceeding forward, visited the compartments occu-
pied by the sailors. I had previously seen some
half-dozen upon deck : I was now astonished to
find at least eighteen or twenty more below — for I
thought that such a crew was far more numerous
than was necessary fur a mere trading vessel. The
officer appeared to penetrate my thoughts: for he
observed to me, " You must reiojember what I
have told you; we are always prepared to resist
i the Tunisian or Greek corsairs."
I I asked permission to leave with the men a

i gratuity to enable them to drink my he^th ; and
! the officer smilingly asseiite<3j though at tk^ same
time assuring me it was by no means necessary.
1 I placed in the hands ot' tije foremost seaoian a
I sum which vould be equivalent to a guiuea in
England j and I must confess that I thought my
donation was rather coolly and inditT^reutiy re-
ceived. I then turned to follow the officer, who
was leading the way back to the deck. All this
time I had not seen the slightest evidence corro-
borative of the idea that the vessel was a trader ;
and I therefore said to the oi£cej-, " I presaiue you
have discharged all your caxgo, a»(J aj.'e yraiting
to take in another ?"

" Yes — in a day or two," lie answered j '^^d
then we shall be all life, bustle, ami aetirity
indeed. But we are the less hurried now oa ac-
count of the accident which iias befallen K'otaras."
i "While proceeding towards the gangway, i could
i not help fancying that as I passed a couple of the
Greek sailors, they scowled upon me fi>r a laomeiit
— and then, as my eyes were bent more BOSi'ch-
ingly upon them to assure myself that suda was
the case, they instantaneously averted their looks
and affected to be jesting with each othoi'. I
thanked the officer for having shown me over the
vessel : he again apologized for his reluctance ia
the first instance, and shook me by the hand as ,
I prepared to descend into the boat.

" And what think you of that schooner, sir ?"'
inquired Cosmo, when we were at some little dis-
tance from the beautiful craft wliose long, low,
gracefully sweeping hull lay so still and bird-like
upon the water.

" VTere it not for the officer's singular behaviour
in the first instance — but for which he however
apologized, I should have every reason to be grati-
fied with my trip."

" She carries a number of guns," observed
Cosmo, with what struck me as a certain dryness.
" Yes— but you heard the explanation which was
given by the officer ?" I exclaimed.
" I heard it, sir," rejoined Cosmo.
I looked at him with a sudden and peculiarly
awakened'attention : for it struck me that there
was something still more, singular than before in
bis tone : but his countenance was calmly in-
scrutable as was its wont. Then I looked back
towards the schooner; and as I beheld her between
the two massive stone piers, lying in her dark
beauty upon the water, with a certain air of
mysteriousness if not misehievousncss about her,
I could not help feeling the influence of a certain
vague misgiving — a suspicion of something which
I scarcely liked to define unto myself, for fear I
should be doing an act of injustice towards per-
sons who merited a better opinion. Cosmo said

nothing more : we gained the quay — the boat was
dismissed— and we retraced our steps to the
hotel.

CHAPTEE CXVII.

THE nOXEL.

Iir the evening Cosmo paid a visit to Signor
Portici, and returned with some of the produce of
that gentleman's conservatories. In addition to
these he procured a few little deheacies from the
larder of the hotel; axid after giving cae an inti-
mation that he was going oat for an liour — and
ys-hich, though respectful .enough, nevertheless
sounded upon my ear something like an authorita-
tive hint ifor me to be sure to keep to ruy own
quarters the while— he sallied forth. I remained
in my apartment at the hotel, endeavouring (o
while away Hxe time with a book, but thinking of
aH that had occurred during the day, as well as of
the adventures in which I was engaged. In the
midst of my reverie a familiar voice speaking
in the jjassage outsikle, suddenly caught layear;
and I stai-ced up — for it was the voice of the Earl
of EL-cleston.

My first impulse was to rush to the door for
the pujrpose of hastening forth and presenting my-
selJ to Lis lordship : but a second tiiou^ht made
me stop shoi't — for I knew not wbether I was
justified in taking a single step witfaout the con-
currence of Cosmo, who had been appointed by tho
Judge to counsel and assist me. I therefore con-
tented myself with merely opening the door gently
to the width of about an inch, so that I might
ascertain, if possible, whether the Earl intended
to stay at the hotel, or whether bis visit was a
mere passing one.

" iCy suite of apai-tments wiU do very well,"
C heard him say ; and then tiie well-known voice
«f bis wife responded in the affirmative. '' Alake
haste, Thomas, and see that all the luggage is
brought up," he continued, evidently addressing
one of his own domestics.

" Yes, my lord," was the reply : and I caught
the sounds of retreating footsteps.

The Earl then said something in Italian, of
which I comprehended sufficient to perceive that
he was giving orders to the waiter relative to tho
immediate serving-up of dinner ; and then I heard
the sounds of doors closing on the opposite side of
the landing. I resumed my seat, and reflected.
That the Earl and Countess of Eccleston had come
to take up their quarters at the very same hotel
where I had established mine, was evident enough :
but was it accidental ? or was his lordship actually
engaged in some new plot against my own peace ?
I knew not what to think, and was full of anxious
suspense. I looked at my watch : it was just eight
o'clock — Cosmo had as yet been absent for only
half-an-hour on his visit to Captain IS'otaras- and
though in another half-hour he might return, yet
I knew not how to restrain my impatience. !Xevcr.
theless I suffered the next half-hour to elapse —
Cosmo did not return — another half-hour dragged
its slow length along — my impatience now became
intolerable : I felt a feverish anxijty— indeed the
strongest necessity td obtain an interview with tho

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OE, THE ME^TOIES OF A MAN-SEETANT.

195

Earl of Eecleston. I accordingly ranj the bell;
and when the waiter made bis appearnace, I jravo
him my card, bidding him take it to his lordship.
Two or three minutes elapsed, during which con-
flicting and painful were the feelings that I
experienced : but at length the door opened, and
the Earl of Eecleston made his appearance.

I rose up to receive him : he seemed confused
and embarrassed ; but, mingled with that expres-
sion, there was a certain degree of surprise on
his countenance, as if at the position in which he
found me, and which was so much superior to that
which I occupied when last we met, in Florence.

" You wish to speak to me, Joseph P" said his
lordship, speedily recovering his outward air of
self-possession, although from a slight tremulous-
ness of his accents I felt, certain he was still in-
wardly agitated.

"I have only to ask you, my lord, a single
question," was my response : and my own voice
trembled with the excitement of my feelings. " It
is a question which "

"Proceed, proceed!" said the Earl petulantly :
" what question is it that you have to ask ?"

" Judging from many painful antecedenf s," I
rejoined, "the fear has been raised in my mind
that your lordship is renewing, or sanctioning the
renewal of those mysterious and unaccountable
persecutions "

"Always this subject ! always these accusa-
tions !" muttered the Earl, a dark and gloomy
look suddenly overspreading his handsome counte-
nance. " What is it that you mean now ?"

" I can give no explanations, my lord," I an-
swered. " SuiBce it to say that my suspicions
have been cruelly rc-awakened "

"Did I not assure you in Florence," asked the
Ear], in a tremulous voice, " that I would not
harm a hair of your head ?"

" You did, my lord j and the assurance made a
deep impression upon me — all the more so," I
continued, " because it was emphatically reiterated
by the Countess."

" Then, what more would you have ?" inquired
the Earl, somewhat impatiently : but as his looks
suddenly assumed a different and milder expres-
sion, and as his tone altered likewise, he said,
" Pray tell me, without farther hesitation, why
you have thus levelled another accusation against
me ? Is that man Lanover "

" Yes, Lanover !" I exclaimed, in a paroxysm
of excitement, — " Lanover whose iniquities are
again harassing me !"

" Then listen, Joseph," said the Earl, laying his
hand upon my arm, and looking me steadfastly in
the face, as if he were intent upon perusing every
lineament of my countenance. "I take heaven
to witness that your suspicions in respect to my-
self are utterly unfounded ! It is true that I have
seen this Mi. Lanover since you and I met in
Florence — I saw him indeed about three weeks
back at Leghorn : but our meeting was altogethc.
accidental "

" And my name was not mentioned, my lord ?"
I said, fixing my eyes searchingly upon the noble-
man.

He looked confused — he trembled visibly : I felt
my cheeks turning pale and then flushing, from
the effect of the suspicions that were flaming up
in my mind once more : l^t the Earl of Eecleston,

again recovering his self-possession, said with an
air of frankness, " Yes, your name was mentioned
— but I declare most solemnly— by everything
sacred — that no hostile instructions were issued
from my lips — no hostile intentions were hinted
at by Mr. Lanover !"

" My lord," I asked, " is that man indeed my
uncle ?"

" Does he not persist in saying so ?" ejaculated
the Earl abruptly.

" He does, my lord," I responded : " but there
is a secret voice within me which tells me that he
is not /—and this same secret voice whispers that
your lordship is enabled, if you choose, to clear
up the hideous mystery which envelopes every-
thing that concerns myself!"

The nobleman turned aside for a few moments,
during which he remained silent; and then
abruptly reverting his eyes upon my countenance,
ho said, " You will not tell me upon what
ground you just now accused me "

" And your lordship has not told me," I inter-
rupted him, " what took place between youiself
and Mr. Lanover when you met at Leghorn."

"I have yet to learn," replied the nobleman,
drawing himself up haughtily, " that I owo you
an account of my proceedings."

"Enough, my lord !" I said coldly. "You may
choose to remain silent upon that point— but you
cannot prevent me from judging of you by your
antecedents. However, there is a superior power
which has hitherto protected me, and which will
protect me still ! Moreover, as I told your lord-
ship in Florence, if Mr. Lanover dares to prosecute
his machinations against me, I will invoke the aid
of the law "

" Where is Lanover ?" demanded the Earl
abruptly. " I declare that I am ignorant of all
that he is now doing : but if a word from me— if
you think, I mean, that I could be of service to
you in disarming that man, I will do all that
lies in my power to shield you. Yes — by heaven,
I will ! Tell me where he is to he found — and
he shall not hurt a single hair of your head !"

I was about to observe that his lordship had
just confessed the power to exercise a considerable
influence over the humpback; but there was so
much apparent sincerity in the assurances he had
just given me, that I did not choose to revert to
an angry strain, nor to adopt a satirical one. I
therefore simply said, "I know not at present
where Mr. Lanover is."

" I will tell you exactly why Lanover sought me
at Leghorn," resumed the Earl, after a few
minutes' reflection. " I repeat — and solemnly
repeat my assurance, that our meeting was at first
quite accidental in the street. He then called
upon me at my hotel, and asked me to lend him
a sum of money. I had not about me the amount
he required ; and it was then too late in the even-
ing to procure it from a banker on the circular
letter of credit with which I invariably travel.
Lanover could not wait until the following day —
he was compelled to go elsewhere at once on
pressing business, as he told me. What his busi-
ness was he did not explain. He asked me to
make him a remittance to some town in the Papal
States Ah ! it was Magliano— I remember !"

" Magi iano ?— yes !" I ejaculated. "Proceed,
my lord."

196

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OB, THE MEMOIBS OF A MAN-SERVANT.

" I complied with Lis request j and on the fol-
lowing daj remitted to Magliano the money for
which he had asked me. That is all I know. And
if, Joseph," added the nobleman, in a grave, seri-
ous voice, "I have given you these explanations,
it is with a Lope of disabusing your mind com-
pletely of the idea that I have any farther con-
nexion with Mr. Lanover than you are now aware
of."

I had studied the Earl's countenance while he
spoke, but had detected nothing to make me doubt
his sincerity; and I reflected profoundly for a few
moments without making any observation. It was
at Magliano that Lanover had met Dorchester : the
name of the Earl of Eecleston was certainly men-
tioned between them — but it might really after all
have been only in reference to the remittance made
to that town by his lordship. That the Earl could
have any interest in forwarding the humpback's
nefarious designs with regard to Sir Matthew
Hcseltine, could scarcely be imagined; and if
therefore his lordship had no intention to renew his
persecutions against me, it was tolerably evident
that the tale of his accidental meeting and of the
money-business with Lanover, might be Bubstan-
tially correct.

" Are you satisfied now, Joseph ?" asked the
Earl : " will you not believe that however strong
your prejudices may be against me on account of
the past, yet that for the present and likewise for
the future I can only wish you well, in-
stead "

He stopped short ; and I answered, " Yes, my
lord — I do most sincerely wish to persuade myself
that all you have been telling me is in strictest
accordance with truth !"

'•' Ah ! you wish to think well of me if you
can ?" said the nobleman in tremulous accents ;
and it appeared as if at the instant he was speak-
ing involuntarily. '•'But tell me," he hastily
added, "how is it that I find you in a position so
difierent— so improved the very position in-
deed, in which 1 could have most wished to find
you ?"

" I am not without kind friends in the world,
my lord," I answered : and then, as a variety of
strange feelings and vague undefinable ideas — but
feelings and ideas which were far from strange to
me, for I Lad often and often experienced them
before since my encounter with the Ecclestons in
Florence, — as these, I say, arose within me in
tumultuous agitation, I exclaimed, " Oh, my lord !
are the mysteries which surround me never, never
to be cleared up ? Ob, why does not that word of
revelation which something tells me might be
uttered by your lips — why is that word not
spoken ?"

At the instant I first broke forth in this
paroxysm of vehement utterance, the Earl of
Eecleston had turned deadly pale — a strong
tremor had visibly shaken his entire form — and
Le Lad gazed upon me with an air which I can
only describe as one of perfect consternation.
But never did calm more suddenly succeed a
storm — never did a perfect lull more quickly take
the place of a sweeping squall, than was the re-
covery of the nobleman's self-possession. His
look became severely cold ; and he said in a cor-
responding tone, "It is not the first time I Lave
found myself compelled to assure you, Mr. "Wil-

mot, that you are labouring under some strange
delusion."

A sensation of disappointment seized upon me
— a sad and sickening one — plunging me all in a
moment into deepest dejection and despondency ;
and the Earl, taking my hand, said in a voice that
had changed again — for it was once more tremu-
lous,— " ^Nevertheless, Joseph, I sincerely wish you

well Believe me, indeed I do !"

" Thank you, my lord," I faintly replied, —
" thank you !" Then as a sudden reminiscence
struck me, I said, '■ Permit me to inquire re-
specting the welfare of Mr. and Mrs. Howard :
for never, never can I forget the kindness I expe-
rienced from the latter, when, as a poor miserable
outcast, I found a home at her father's mansion,
and when she was still Miss Edith Delmar."

" Mr. and Mrs. Howard," responded the Earl,
in a grave voice, " are well, rich, and prosperous."
"Eich and prosperous?" I exclaimed, all my
own former feeling of dejection being suddenly
absorbed in a sense of sincerest joy at this an-
nouncement.

"Yes," rejoined the Earl — and methought that
he now eyed me in a very peculiar as well as
somewhat furtive manner ; '■ Mr. and Mrs.
Howard are in possession of Delmar Manor. I
made the estate over to them shortly after my
accession to the title and property of Eecleston."

I was just on the point of ejaculating, "'Thank
heaven! the deceased Mr. Delmar's original in-
tentions, as I heard them expressed in the library
at the Manor, are thus more than fulfilled !" — but
I checked myself in time, and merely gave utter-
ance to an expression of joy that the Kev. Henry
Howard and his amiable Edith should have at
length been placed in a position of such affluence.

" Yes," continued the Earl ; "' when my brother's
death gave me riches, it was my care as well as
my pleasure to enable my sister-ia-law and her
husband to partake of my prosperity. And not
only did I make over to them the Delmar estate,
but likewise a considerable sum of ready money.
I know that from sentiments of gratitude you
are interested in everything which concerns Mr.
and Mrs. Howard ; and therefore I am happy at
having Lad an opportunity of making you ac-
quainted with these particulars."

I could not help thinking that there was a cer-
tain strange significancy in the accents and the
looks of the Earl of Eecleston as he thus spoke :
but I knew not Low to account fjr it, unless by
regarding it as an affectation of the best and
kindest feelings towards Mr. Howard and Edith, —
though from a few things I had heard on previous
occasions, as the reader will recollect, my mind had
retained the impression that the young clergyman
and his wife had experienced little reason to esti-
mate the friendship or affoction of their relatives at
a very high value. But then methought that if the
Earl and Countess had altered their demeanour,
however tardily, towards Mr. and Mrs. Howard,
the old adage of "better late than not at all"
would powerfully apply.

"Again I wish you well, Joseph," said the Earl
of Eecleston; "and again I assure you, in the
most solemn, sacred manuer, that never will I seek
to injure a hair of your head ! Did you not save
the life of the Countess? And can I— can she
forjTct itf"

JOSEPH WILMOT; OB, THE MEMOIRS OP A MAV-SERTANT.

197

He once more pressed my band, and then hur-
ried from the room, — leaving me to reflect upon
all that had thus occurred between us. Not many
minutes, bovrever, had I for such meditation : for
the door soon opened, and Cosmo made his appear-
ance.

" The Earl and Countess of Eccleston are be-
neath this roof," I at once said.

'•■ I know it, sir," responded Cosmo, in his usual
quiet manner ; " and I was about to communicate
the intelligence. They arrived during my absence
with the little presents for Captain Notaras."

"Yes— and 1 have seen the Earl," I resumed;
" and I am almost confident — indeed I am com-
complctely certain that his lordship is not leagued
in the present instance with Lanover."

" Did you voluntarily seek an interview with this
nobleman?" inquired Cosmo authoritatively.
" 1 did. It was absolutely necessary that I

should ascertain without delay "

" Well, sir," interrupted the Italian coldly,
"you are the best judge as to the amount of faith
to be put in Lord Eccleston's word : for I myself
know nothing of him. If you are satisfied, so
much the better : it is all your affair— not mine.
But permit me to observe that if through this pro-
ceeding on your part any evil should arise "

"Enough, Cosmo!" I ejaculated somewhat im-
patiently. "As a general rule I shall not act
without your counsel and assistance : but it may
happen that circumstances will arise, as in the
present case, to afford me an opportunity of
obtaining peculiar information by myself. Did
you see Captain Notaras ?"

" I did, sir," answered Cosmo ; " and in his own
blunt sailor-like fashion he expressed his thanks
for the presents you sent him."

"Did he seem to be aware that I had visited his
ship ?" I inquired.

" He knew it," was the Italian's answer : " but
be said little more than simply to ask what you
thought of it ? I assured him, sir, that you were

greatly delighted "

" And did you add," I exclaimed, " that I
sincerely hopec^ we were not guilty of any obtru-
sive indiscretion "

" I did not think it worth while, sir, to touch
upon the point," answered Cosmo ; " inasmuch as
Captain Notaras himself did not appear to attach
any importance to the proceeding."

Cosmo then retired from my apartment; and
I plunged again into my reflections. The longer
I thought of what had taken place between myself
and the Earl of Eccleston, the more was I satisfied
that he had really nothing to do with Lanover's
present proceedings. I had not forgotten how
emphatically the Earl had denounced Dorchester
as a villain when I placed in his lordship's hand
the abstracted leaf of the Enfield register; and I
could not therefore easily suppose that the Earl
would now make use of Dorchester as a tool, or
that he could bo mixed up with any affair in
which that man was concerned. I therefore came
to the conclusion that the Earl of Eccleston's
name had been mentioned by the delectable pair,
in the ruin near Magliano, simply in allusion to
the pecuniary remittance made to that town.
Other ideas — but more vague and indistinct— of
quite a different character and relative to far
different; subjects — came stealing in unto my

mind; and they occupied my attention until the
arrival of the hour at which I usually retired to
rest.

It was a little before eleven o'clock when I
sought my bed-chamber : and slumber stole in upon
me in the midst of my reflections. I had been
thinking of the mystery which hung over my birth
—I had been wondering whether the cloud of this
mystery would ever be dispersed — and whether it
were destined for me to be ever clasped in the arms
[ of parents : and I have no doubt that these medita-
I tions which I had pursued when awake, imparted
their complexion to my dreams. In those visions
I it appeared as if a female form bent over me as I
' lay slumbering there — that she murmured fond
endearing words — that her lips touched my cheek
lightly, as if in fear of awaking me-^and that still
more lightly upon that cheek fell a tear-drop from
her eye. Methought that this continued for some
minutes — I mean that the female form continued
thus long bending over me : but I could not distin-
guish her countenance^there was a general though
vague impression in my mind that it was a beau-
tiful one — such an impression as was peculiar to
dreams, and which appeared to have no positive
reason for its existence, inasmuch as not one
single feature of the countenance itself could I
distinguish. Then all in an instant it appeared aa
if the countenance touched my own again— the
kiss was imprinted with a more perceptible warmth
upon my cheek — and it was not one tear-drop only,
but several that fell upon my face. I started up,
wildly extending my arms to clasp the form of one
who it seemed to me had a maternal right thus to
lavish her endearments upon me, stealthily bestowed
in the deep midnight though they were : but these
arms of mine only embraced the empty air. The
chamber was involved in deep obscurity : yet it
seemed to me as if for a moment I caught the
fluttering of some white drapery, 'and that as it
disappeared the sound of the door gently closing
reached my ear.

I was all so bewildered that I sate up motion-
less in bed ; and at least a minute elapsed ere I
thought of springing forth and hastening to the
door. I looked out into the passage— all was dark
and all was silent. I had the means in the room
of procuring a light ; and with the aid thereof I
consulted my watch. It was one o'clock in the
morning, I returned to my bed, powerfully ex-
cited ; and I said to myself, " Could it have been
a mere vision ? was it indeed all a dream ?"

I lay meditating. On the one hand my mind
suggested that it was really naught but a dream:
on the other a secret voice appeared to be whisper-
ing in my soul that it was all stamped with reality.
" And yet bow foolish !" I said to myself.
" Was it not natural that the subjects on which
I had been thinking, should give their tone and
expression to my dreams ? — and is it not ridicu-
lous on my part thus suddenly to grasp at the
visions of the night ^s substantial facts ? And
yet— and yet that fluttering of the drapery —
that sound of the door gently closing— and the

moiBture too which I felt upon my cheeks !

But no ! I myself might have beeji weeping in

my slumber Alas ! I fear that it was all the

imagination ! Nevertheless "

But I will not trouble the reader with any
more of the reflections, so varied and conflicting,

198

JOSEPH WiXMOT ; OE, THE STEMOIUS OI? A MAN-SERTANT.

■which kept trooping through my mind, until sleep
gradually stole upon my eyes again : and I slum-
bered uninterruptedly until the morning. Then I
again meditated upon the occurrences of the past
night: but I had now so comparatively an indis-
tinct notion of them, that it was not until I dis-
covered the traces of having procured a light, I
could even assure myself that I had so much as
risen from my bed at all.

CHAPTER CXVIII.

IHE 8CE00KEB.

It was eight o'clock when I thus rose from my
couch ; and my toilet being performed, I strolled
forth into the town to court the fresh air before
breakfast.

It was Sunday morning; and the church-bells
were ringing. I walked towards the port, unat-
tended on this occasion by Cosmo — to whom I had
not mentioned my intention of issuing from the
hotel : and seeking the quay, I stood to gaze upon
the Greek schooner which was moored near the
little island that lies between the two pier heads.
Presently I perceived a boat putting off from the
side of that vessel; and manned by six smart
rowers, it shot in towards the landing-place exactly
fronting the tavern where Captain Notaras lay.
I could not help admiring the fine athletic forms
of the half-dozen Greek sailors — the man-of-war's-
man-like regularity and precision with which they
pulled their oars — and the speed with which they
sent the boat skimming over the water. As it
neared the steps, I observed that the younger of
the officers whom I had specially noticed on board
the schooner, sate at the helm ; and if it were not
for the Greek cap which he wore, I should have
taken him, by his apparel, for an oflB.cer in the
undress-uniform of some regular naval service.
The boat touched the foot of the stairs ; and four
of the sailors, accompanied by the officer, hastened
up to the wharf. They at once perceived me. I
considered it nothing more than an act of becoming
courtesy to bow to the officer : and I must confess
that I was both surprised and hurt at the cold
hauteur with which he acknowledged my saluta-
tion. The sailors themselves flung upon me looks
which appeared fraught with dislike or mistrust,
and which reminded me of the regards the two
seamen on the deck of the schooner itself had fur-
tively bent upon me when I was about to leave
that vessel on the preceding day.

I was so astonished by this conduct on the part
of the Greeks — especially on that of the officer —
that I was riveted to the spot ; and I gradually
found the strange, dim, and vague misgivings of
the previous day reviving in my mind. Was there
anything really wrong about this vessel? — and
could it possibly be supposed by those on board
that I had enacted the part of a spy ? My looks,
turning away from the sailors and the young
officer, fixed themselves upon the schooner ; and as
I contemplated her long, low, beautifully shaped
hull — her tapering spars — her masts so mis-
chievously raking — -the web-like tracery of her
rigging — and as I remembered how its side might
suddenly be made to bristle with cannon, I could

no longer put away from my mind the idea that
there was something wicked in the aspect of that
vessel. I turned to glance in the direction of the
sailors and the young officer who had quitted the
boat; and I caught sight of them just as they
were entering the tavern where Captain Notaras
lay. 1 was about to take my departure from the
wharf, and retrace my way to the hotel, — when, as
I looked again towards the schooner, my eyes
settled upon a speck upon the hitherto black
uniformity of her side ; and a moment's steadier
gaze convinced me that one of her ports was now
open, I was certain that until this last instant it
had been closed, as the others on the same side
were; and I lingered there to see whether these
would likewise be now made to display their
ordnance. But no : that one port-hole alone re-
mained open.

Again I was turning to depart, when I caught
sight of a boat coming away from the pier on the
right hand ; and the beams of morning glinted on
the bright points of bayonets. It was a barge
of considerable size; and there might be at
least thirty soldiers in it — so that it moved slowly,
though ten seamen plied the oars with their strong
nervous arms. It was impossible at first to con-
ceive the destination of this boat and its freight.
It might be intended for the pier opposite the one
where it had started : the object might be to make a
sweep round the vessels which lay as it were in a
moored mass together, and thus gain the mouth of
the harbour with a view of passing out : it might be
bound for the citadel : or it even might be to visit
the schooner which lay between the little island and
the opposite pier just referred to. I stood contem-
plating this barge for some minutes as it toiled
heavily through the water ; and then, as I hap-
pened to glance down at the schooner's boat, which
lay at the bottom of the steps, I perceived the two
sailors who had remained in if, standing up and
both evidently watching the course of that barge.
Then I looked round towards the tavern ; and I
now beheld a species of litter, which was being
borne iforth on the shoulders of the four Greek sailors
who had proceeded thither — the young officer
walking by the side. It did not require a single
moment's conjecture to make me aware that the
litter contained Captain Notaras, who was about
to be conveyed on board his ship. I had now an-
other reason to tarry on the quay : namely, to in-
quire after the wounded man's health ; for despite
what my growing suspicions suggested, he was a
fellow- creature — and besides, it was quite probable
that these suspicions might be utterly erroneous
after all. Moreover, I was determined by the
frankness of my manner to disabuse those men, if
possible, of any unjust construction which they
might have put upon my visit to their ship on the
previous day.

The litter approached ; and on the head of the
steps being reached, it was deposited on the quay,
so that the sailors might alter their hold upon it
previous to carrying it down into the boat. No-
taras lay therein, — his naturally repulsive visage
looking still more hideous with the ghastly expres-
sion which illness and pain had left upon it, and
which the presence of a beard of two days' growth
did not by any means mitigate. I advanced to-
wards the litter ; and it was now impossible to be
deceived in respect to the dark scowling looks of

JOSEPH WIIiMOT; OK, THE MFM0IE3 OP A MAN- SERVANT.

103

the Greek mariners, or t'ae glauce of luiugled
hate, scorn, and defiance which shot from the eyes
of the young officer. Nevertheless, perfectly calm
and collected, I advanced towards the litter j and
appearing as if unconscious of the ominous regards
thus bent upon me, I said to Captain iPfotaras,
" You are changing your quarters somewhat early
after so severe an accident."

" Too early do you think ?" exclaimed the Cap-
tain with a grim malignant smile: and then he
gave some hasty command to the men in his own
native language.

'■' I see that I am viewed with mistrust," I
said, proudly : " but you are doing me a rank in-
justice. This assurance I give you, because what-
ever you may be," I added emphatically, " I would
not have it supposed that I sought a miser-
able subterfuge to go on board your ship for a
sinister purpose. I repent the curiosity which
alone prompted me to do so ; and am equally sorry
to think that I should have taxed in any maimer
the courtesy of your subordinate in command."

Captain Notaras gave another grim smile — but
made no verbal response : his men and the young
officer looked very much as if they would have
liked to hurl me into the sea, or string me up to
the yard-arm of their schooner : but disdaining any
further attempt to vindicate myself, I walked
away. I did not turn my head to fling another
glance upon the litter or those who were convey-
ing it down to the boat ; and in two or three
minutes a pile of huge blocks of stone, employed
for mending the harbour, became interposed be-
' tween us. Just as I was passing the further
/ angle of that pile, I heard myself called by name ;
and looking round, beheld Cosmo. He was evi-
dently concealed in this spot ; and he at once said,
" How could you be so foolish, sir, as to go forth
alone after the warning I gave you."

" Are you aware, then," I quickly demanded,
" that I incurred any danger P"

"Danger," replied Cosmo, in his sedate quiet
manner, '• may come from more quarters than
one, and may be directed against you by different
individuals having different purposes to serve."

'• Then you were not just now alluding," I said,
" to Mr. Lanover and his accomplices, whoever
they may be ?"

" No sir — not precieely at that moment."

" Perhaps you were alluding to these Greek
mariuers ?" I observed inquiringly.

" I was," responded Cosmo.

"But how could you possibly be aware "

" I did not think, sir, for a single moment," he
interrupted me, " that you incurred any danger
wiion you visited their ship yesterday : or else I
Bhoolfl not have taken you on board. But to-day
it is different !"

" And why is it different to-day ?" I demanded,
astouished and impatient at the ambiguity of the
man's speech.

" Because yesterday, sir," rejoined Cosmo, " the
Greeks took you only for a mere visitor impelled
by curiosity : whereas to-day they take you —
pardon the plainness of my speech — for a spy."

"A spy!" I ejaculated, recoiling in disgust
from the term, although its announcement only
Corresponded with the ^idea that had previously
been passing in my mind — I mean in respect to
the opinion which the Greeks had formed of me.

-it is but too true ! How do you know

'' Yes-
it?"

" What is your opinion now, sir, of that ship ?"
asked Cosmo, as if evading the question which I
had just put : and he led me a little way forward,
80 that the schooner was again brought within the
range of our vision.

" I think," I answered, though somewhat hesi-
tatingly— "I think that judging from all I beheld
yesterday, and from the suspicious conduct of these
men just now — I think, I say, that yon schooner
is a pirate."

" And I know it," was Cosmo's quiet response.

I could not help trembling for a moment at the
risk I had run in going aboard the vcsiel oa the
previous day : and then, as something flashed in unto
my recollection, I exclaimed in a tone of indignant
reproach, " And you knew it all along ?"

" I have suspected it for a long time — I mean for
some weeks," replied Cosmo : " but I only knew it
for a certainty yesterday."

"Yes — and now your conduct is intelligible
enough !" I exclaimed, still more augiily and in-
dignantly reproachful than before. '"' Y"ou told me
on Friday night, when you first introduced your-
self to me, that my services might be rendered
available in advancing some object you had in view

and this is the object ! You induced me to

visit the schooner in order that you might accom-
pany me — you bade me promise fruits and flowers
to her invalid captain on shore, in order that you
might become the bearer of them "

" All this is perfectly true, Mr. Wilmot," an-
swered Cosmo, perfectly unruflled : " and I scarcely
think you can stretch your ideas of honour to
such an extraordinary degree of punctiliousness,
as to regret any slight assistance you may have ren-
dered towards the unmasking of the true character
of that vessel."

" The mischief is done, and cannot be undone,"
I answered, still with a certain degree of vexation :
" but I do not like being led to play such a part
even against pirates. How came they to suspect
you — or rather us, as I suppose I ought to say ?"

"In the first place," answered Cosmo, "they
liked as little as could be, our visit to the ship yes-
terday, as indeed you could have had no difliculty in
observing. Then, I suppose, the circumstance of
my taking the little presents to Notaras last
night "

"' And perhaps the way in which you may have
questioned him," 1 exclaimed,- "added to the cir-
cumstance that men whose proceedings are lawless,
and who are conscious of wrong, are ever keenly
alive to the merest trifle that appears suspi-
cious "

" No doubt, sir," answered Cosmo. " But you
must not be oflended with me for what I have
done. I saw enough of your disposition the first
moment we met, to be convinced that you would
not voluntarily lend yourself to succour my pro-
ject : pardon me therefore for adding that I was
resolved to make use of you in spite of yourself.
I, as an Italian, could not have obtained admission
on board the ship if I had gone thither alone :
but you, as an Englishman travelling for your
amusement, obtained that admission — and I, as
your valet, accompanied you. Then too, accident
had made you acquainted with Notaras ; and here
again I procui-ed that access through your agency

200

JOSEPH M'lUIOT ; OB, THE KEMOIBS 07 A MAII-SEETAIIT.

which. I could not have obtained by myself alone.
However, suspicion has been excited earlier than I
thought ; and Notaras is having himself conveyed
on board his ship."

"But what is now your purpose?" I inquired.
" Have you given information to the authorities ?
do you propose to give it ?"

" It is useless," responded Cosmo. " Observe

that schooner, sir she is moored in such a way

that the guns of the citadel, if fired upon her,
would send their shot through all that forest of
masts belonging to the mass of shipping there.
She knows she is therefore safe from that quarter :
or even if fired upon, you observe that a very few
moments would enable her to place her hull com-
pletely under that rocky island — and then a few
minutes would sufiice for her to set her sails and
run out of the harbour. She rides at a single
anchor ; and if she had not time to heave it up,
her cable could be slipped, and away she
goes !"

'■'But what means that barge full of soldiers .''"
I inquired. " From the first moment you assured
me yon schooner was a pirate, I had made up my
mind that the troops iu that barge meditated an

attack •"

'■ AVhich the pirates would only laugh at, sir,"
answered Cosmo. '" The instant the barge got
nnder the ship's side with a visibly hostile pur-
pose, a weight would be tossed in from the
schooner's deck, and she would go to the bottom."
'•■ For the last quarter of an hour," I observed,
" she has kept one of her ports open."

'' Yes," replied Cosmo, — "' as a gentle intima-
tion that if the barge attempts to cut out the boat
conveying Captain ^Jfotaras, it will be sunk in the
twinkling of an eye. But really the soldiers in
that barge have no such intention : they are
merely conveying a posse of refractory galley-
slaves from the prison to the citadel. Look, Mr.
"Wilmot I the barge now takes the curve neces-
sitated by the line of shipping yonder — and the
boat containing Captain Xotaras, proceeds tran-
quilly towards the schooner. Let us rettrn to
the hotel. Those fellows on toard the corsair will
only be detecting us with their glasses ; and their

suspicion for after all it can be nothing more

than bare suspicion on their part will be

strengthened. They are desperate men — and a
rifle-ball is soon sent whizzing about one's ears."

'• I confess that after all you have told me," I
observed, as we walked together in the direction
of the hotel, "I am totally at a loss to conceive
how you purposed to act, even if suspicion had
not been thus prematurely aroused. Doubtless you
came from Ostia in the first instance to watch this
ship ?"

" Precisely so," answered Cosmo. " She has
been cruising for some few weeks near the Italian
coast ; and she was boarded a little while back by

an Austrian frigate " •

'■■ They fought ?" I said inquiringly.
" Oh, no !" responded Cosmo. " The Austrian
merely fired a gun to bring the schooner to — and
then sent a boat to take an officer on board and
see her papers. These were all correct enough ;
and though the officer had his suspicions, yet there
was nothing to warrant a capture."

"Being ignorant of all matters of this sort," I
observed, '• but yet being interested in the present

one, I wish you would give me some more detailed
explanations ; for you only vouchsafe comparatively
concise answers to my questions."

" I will endeavour to satisfy you, sir," an-
swered Cosmo. " The officer on board the schooner
yesterday told you truly enough, that corsairs
occasionally appear in the Mediterranean — chiefly
in the Levant. For the last two years those
waters have been scoured by one more terrible
than all others that for many a long year have
been known. It has however been principally
in the night-time that tradiqg vessels have been
boarded, ransacked of everything worth carrying
off, and then sufiered to proceed on their way.
Suppose, for instance, a trader of Greece, Turkey,
France, England, Spain, or any other country,
pursuing its way to some port on the Levantine or
neighbouring shore, — it perceives during the day-
time, or usually towards sunset, a schooner painted
in gay colours and which approaches nigh enough
to hail it. If the trader be a Turk, the schooner
j runs up the colours of Greece : if the trader be a
1 Greek, the schooner displays the Turkish colours
I — and then they separate."

j "' But wherefore this difference of colours for
, each varying occasion ?" I inquired.
] " Because the Turkish sailors know very well,"
1 replied Cosmo, " that there is no such elegant-
I looking schooner engaged in their own trade : but
i they have not the same knowledge in respect to
1 Greek vessels. Therefore when the schooner hoists
I Greek colours, they set it down as a Greek, and are
j satisfied. Reverse the description — and it applies
equally to the hoisting of Turkish colours to a
Greek vessel, or of French colours to an English oue
— and so forth. The consequence was that for two
I whole years — indeed until very lately — the gaily
I painted schooner was never suspected to be any-
thing but an honest trader, wherever it was met.
Xo matter that it was never heard of as discharg-
ing or taking in a cargo at any particular port
where legitimate commerce is carried on : vessels
that traded to one port were told by those on
board the schooner when hailed at sea, that she
traded to another port."
] "Then the schooner has only been recently
pamted black .''" I observed.

" She is constantly changing her hues like a
chamelion," answered Cosmo. " I will illustrate
what I mean. Suppose a Turkish trader bound
from Constantinople to Candia : — when off the
coast of Asia Minor, she falls in, we will say, in
the afternoon, with a schooner with red and white
stripes along her sides, and with beautiful white
canvas spread. The Turk is hailed, and answers
that she is bound for Candia : the schooner runs
up Greek colours, and replies that she is for Alex-
andria. They separate : the schooner is the best
sailer — she tacks — and is soon out of sight. In
the middle of the night, as the Turk is pursuing
I its way, a vessel comes within hail : she is rigged
I as a schooner — but her hull is jet black ; and in-
' stead of beautiful white canvas, she has dingy
I tan-coloured sails flowing from her spars. The
j work of piracy is effected — the plunder is accom-
plished,— the sailors of the schooner all wearing
' black masks, so that their countenances are com-
1 pletely concealed. She bears away ; and the un-
fortunate Turkish captain scarcely dares suspect in
his bewilderment that he has been victimised by

JOSEPH WILMOT; OE, THE MEMOIBg OF A MAK- SERVANT.

201

AS^>#?^a.

'^J^' V

'■l

-^

the elegant-looking schooner that hailed him in
the afternoon."

"This sounds exceedingly like a romance," I ob-
served. " How is it possible that the schooner can
so alter its appearance in the space of a few
hours P"

"Did you not observe," inquired Cosmo, "that
there are at least two dozen men on board that
schooner which lies in the harbour of this town ?
Think you not, therefore, that with the aid of so
many hands fresh sails can be bent in a com-
paratively brief space — or that in the course of an
hour the tar-brush can efface all the beautiful
paint streaking the sides from stem to stern, and
which paint may be renewed on the morrow with
an almost equal rapidity ':"

" But the captains of vessels thus plundered," I
said, "would have sooner or later compared notes
with each other "

" And this is precisely what they have done,"
78.

interrupfed Cosmo, — "until at length it has been
taken as a strange coincidence that the appearance
of the beautiful-looking schooner during the day
should be the certain herald of a piratical attack
by a dark gloomy-looking vessel of the same rig
at night. Thus suspicion was excited ; and as an
Austrian trader from Trieste to Smyrna was plun-
dered by the corsair- schooner in the way that I
have described, about two months back, his Impe-
rial Majesty's frigate, the Tyrol, was sent to look
out for the cunning but audacious pirate. The
Tyrol had not been long at sea, when it fell in
with a schooner painted completely black, and
answering precisely to the description of the
gaily painted one, save and except in reference to
that gaudy painting itself."
I " And the sails ?" I observed.

" It had its beautiful white canvass set," an-
I swered Cosmo ; "and nothing but the streaks of
I paint were wanting to make it correspond wll'j

202

JOSEPH WILMOT; OE, THE MEMOIRS OV A MAN-SEBVAWT.

the suspected schooner : while, on the other hand,
the absence of the dingy-coloured canvass pre-
vented it from corresponding with the corsair-
vessel that was wont to attack the traders by
night."

"In fact, therefore, the schooner with which
the Tyrol fell in," I said, " corresponded precisely

with neither or rather, I suppose I ought to

say, with neither of the phases which the one
corsair was accustomed to assume when playing
the part of two distinct and different vessels ?"

"The matter stood precisely as you have put it,
Mr. Wilmot," responded Cosmo. " Well, the
Tyrol fired a gun for the schooner to bring to ; and
she brought to accordingly, at once running up
Greek colours. An officer from the Tyrol boarded
her as I have already explained to you : and he
saw Captain Notaras. In reply to the questions
put, !Notaras answered that his schooner was
named the Athene— that she belonged to a respect-
able Greek firm at Athens — and that she was on
her way to the Italian ports to take in a cargo of
merchandise. Notaras displayed all the requisite
papers to prove that bis statements were correct;
and when asked why he carried eight carronades,
the reply that he gave was as natural as it was
ready : — he was armed to protect himself against
the formidable corsair-schooner. This interview
took place on the schooner's deck : and Notaras
did not invite the Austrian officer to descend into
his cabin. It was tins circumstance which ren-
dered the oflBeer suspicious; but still he bad no
power to demand that as a right which, if accorded,
would have been a mere act of courtesy. In a
word, as the papers were all in order — the explana-
tions of Notaras were plausible, and were given in
ft straightforward manner— and as the seamen of
one country are always delicate in dealing with the
flag of another — the Austrian lieutenant was com-
pelled to return to his ship to report matters to
his commander. The consequence was the Athene
was suffered to pursue her way."

'•' And as you are now certain," I said, '•' that
the vessel in this harbour is the Athene, you think
that she is veritably the formidable pirate itself?"

" Listen, sir," replied Cosmo, " to the progress of
my explanations. The Austrian frigate, the
Tyrol, on parting with the Athene, cruised round
upon the western coast of Italy with the intention
of watching that schooner's proceedings as far as
was possible; and the Tyrol came up as far as

Civita Yccchia, where it lay for a little while "

" I remember Signor Portici telling me," I ex-
claimed, " that an Austrian frigate was here a
short time back — and that must have been the
one."

"The very same," replied Cosmo: "but the
Judge did not then know for what reason the
Austrian frigate was here."

"And did the Athene make her appearance at
Civita Yecchia during the same time ?" I asked.

"No," rejoined Cosmo: " there was a terrific
storm soon after she parted from the Tyrol ; and,
as it was subsequently learnt, she ran first into a
Sicilian port — and subsequently anchored for a
week or two in the Bay of ]!s aples. Then she pro-
ceeded to Ostia at the mouth of the Tiber — whither
indeed she was driven by another storm."

"And Ostia is the place where you dwell,"
I said.

"And where I first saw the Athene," answered
Cosmo. I will now be very candid with you, Mr.
"Wilmot," he continued ; " for I begin to know vou
and like you better thah at first. There is a large
reward ofTered, by means of a subscription on the
part of several mercantile firms in Italy and the
Levant, for any one who shall become instrumental
in procuring the capture of the pirate that for up-
wards of two years has been the terror of all the
eastern part of the Mediterranean. With the
permission — and indeed at the instigation of the
chief of the police of Ostia and its district, I de-
termined to embark in the enterprise. I learnt
thrtt the Athene was coming to Civita Yecchia:
hither therefore I came. I was here an entire
week, watching the vessel and the proceedings of
its crew, without finding myself one single step
advanced. At length I resolved to call upon the
Chief Judge, Signor Portici, and consult him on
the subject. This happened to be the night before
last, just after you and his young Greek friend had
left the villa. Signor Portici then learnt for the
first time how grave were the suspicions which
existed agatnst the Athene; and I learnt, also for
the first time, how powerless the authorities were
to make a bold stroke to capture the vessel and
hold her till the fullest inquiries could be made of
the Greek firm at Athens to which she pretends to
belong. Signor Portici bade me use all possible
caution; — and be then mentioned your affair to
me. I undertook to serve you, — having the idea
at the time that I might also, through you, serve
my own special end."

" And you have done so," I said. " But how,
by a visit to that ship, were your suspicions con-
firmed that she is really the corsair-schooner ?"

"Were those luxuriously fitted cabins appro-
priate for a simple trading- vessel ?" asked Cosmo:
" was that hesitation to admit us first of all on
board the ship itself, and then down into those
cabins, consistent with a calm conscience on the
part of Notaras's lieutenant ? or was it likely that
a simple merchant-captain could afford such luxu-
ries as splendid ottomans, filagree baskets, bro-
cades, silks, velvets, a silver lamp, and the various
articles of massive plate which we beheld in that
cabin ? Or could a mere trader aflford to maintain
such a numerous crew ?"

" And all the while you were bo seemingly
apathetic when on board," I said, " you were

keenly observing "

"Everything!" answered Cosmo, — "even to the
indifference wit'n which men who are accustomed
to have their pockets lined with gold, received the
drinking-gratuity that you bestowed upon them —
aye, and even to the scowling looks that were
flung upon you as you passed. All these circum-
stances cleared up my doubts — if doubts indeed I
had previously entertained."

" And your visit to Captain Ifotaras in the

evening, under the pretext "

" Ah ! the fruits and flowers ? Well, sir,"
continued Cosmo, " that was with the hope of
leading him into conversation and fathoming his
designs — ascertaining his plans, if possible— how
long he meant to remain here — or any other little
thing that he might have let drop while fancying
that he was in discourse with a mere stranger
having no special motive to question him. But
he had beard of our visit to the ship and was

JOSEPH WILMOT; OE, THE ilEMOmS OF A MANSEKVAXT.

203

evidently suspicious. This was another reasou
for convincing me that I had arrived at a positive
certainty with regard to the true character of the
A.thene."

" And now," I said, " there is, I think, but one
question more which I have to aak you : and that
is — having satisfied your mind that the Athene
and the corsair-schooner are identical, how do you
intend to proceed in order to ensure its cap-
ture ?"

'■ When I went for the fruits and flowers last
evening to Signer Portici's house," answered
Cosmo, " I duly communicated everything to
him : and he at once despatched couriers to the
different sea-ports off any one of which it is pro-
bable that the Austrian frigate Tyrol may bo
cruising — to give her commander the information
which will justify him in acting less puncti-
liously than on the former occasion — in a word,
Mr. Wilmot, that he may take prompt and
effectual measures for the capture of the schooner.
I have now treated you with the utmost candour :
it was a duty I owed you in return for the use
which I made of your services. You will reli-
giously keep the secret until there shall no longer
be a necessity for retaining it ; — and I on my part
will not leave you until I have done all that man
can do to aid you in baffling your enemies."

" Your secret shall be kept," I answered ; " and
under all the circumstances you have mentioned,
I can no longer regret that I was rendered an
instrument — though an unconscious one at the
time — in furthering your designs against this
execrable pirate. But think you that Captain
Notaras has not gone on board for the purpose of
■weighing anchor and running out to sea ? — think
you not also that should he again espy the Tyrol,
he will give it a wide berth ?"

" The Tyrol," answered Cosmo, " is a fast-
sailing frigate — these waters are comparatively
narrow — and it is not so easy for one ship to elude
another as if they were on the bosom of the broad
Atlantic or the wide open Pacific. Best assured,
Mr. "Wilmot, the Athene is a doomed vessel, and
that I shall obtain a reward which will grant me
a competency for the remainder of my life. — But
see !" he said, stopping short at a point in the
upper part of the town which commanded a view
of the harbour — " there lies the schooner still —
80 tranquil in its treacherous beauty — not a man
upon its yards — not a seaman upon its rigging —
no preparation making for departure ! Yet the
wind is fair ; and if Notaras, influenced by his sus-
picions relative to ourselves, intended to betake
himself off, he would already have his sails flutter-
ing loose from their spars and his anchor would be
up. But there she lies between the island and
the lower pier, just where we saw her from the
quay half-an-hour back : she has not moved an
inch ! It was therefore a mere precaution on the
part of ^N'otaras in going on board, so as to be pre-
pared for any eventuality ; and this hardihood on
his part in keeping his vessel here, will render her
capture all the more certain and the more
speedy."

"Doubtless," I observed: — and I vias about to
say something more, when all of a sudden I
started— clutched Cosmo by the arm— and hur-
riedly whispered, but in an excited voice, " Mr.
Lauover !"

The vile humpback was just emerging round
the corner of an adjacent street; and before he had
time to notice me, I had dragged Cosmo under an
archway forming the entrance to the mansion of
some wealthy personage.

CHAPIEB CXIX.

SUNDAY EVENINO- AT THE HOTEL.

Ox returning to the hotel with Cosmo, I learnt
that Lord and Lady Eccleston, with their de-
pendants, had abruptly taken their departure im-
mediately after an early breakfast, and therefore
during the interval that I was walking upon the
quay. This sudden movement on their part must
no doubt have seemed strange to the people of the
hotel : but I could very well guess the reason : —
the Earl chose not to remain any longer within
the same walls as myself. I however saw in this
departure a confirmation of the solemn assurance
he had given me, to the effect that he was neither
engaged in any plot against me, nor implicated in
Lanover's present proceedings : or else he would
certainly have remained at Civita Vecchia, if only
to lull me the more completely into a false secu-
rity.

As I was sitting down to breakfast, the waiter
handed me a note, with the intimation that he
had received it from the Countess of Eccleston'a
maid, and that he was enjoined to give it me
privately. I knew the handwriting; and hastily
opening the billet, found that its contents ran as
follow : —

"You have nothing to fear, Joseph, on the part of the

I Earl: you are wrong to suspect him any longer. I

invoke heavea to attest the truth of the averment I

now make, to the effect that he will not harm a hair of

your head. When you recall to mind every thing that

cook place ia Florence, and the anxiety which I there

\ displayed to be of service to you— when yon remember

I likewise that to you atn I indebted for my life— you

I cannot suppose that danger or mischief threatens you

j from any quarter where my voice could be heard or my

I influence exercised. The Earl is indeed totally at a loss

' to ooneeive why Mr. Lauover should propose to molest

you — if molestation he really meant. We sincerely hope

that you are mistaken. But in case you should be only

too well informed on the point — or that your smpicions

I should be only too well fouaded — why not at once leave

Civita Vecchia ? why not proceed to some distant place ?

— for you are evidently now your own master — you are

prosperous ; and unfeignedly do I rsjoice that such is

your improved condition.

" You muit not mirvel, Joseph, that I take all this in-
terest in your welfare. I repeat what I have before said :
— <:an I ever forget how chivalrously you saved my life at
the fearful risk of your o?fn ? I need scarcely say the
Earl is unaware that I pen ihis note. Barn it, Joseph,
the instant you have perused its contents ; — and though
circumstances compel me to write thu3 stealthily, and, to
express my feelings thus guardedly, yet your welfare is
not the leas dear to

"Claba Ecclksion."

This billet established my convictions beyond
the least remaining possibility of doubt, that the
Earl of Eccleston had really nothing to do with
Lanover's present proceedings. I burnt the note
according to the wishes of the Countess : for I
considered that I was bound to do so, although I
experienced a longing inclination to retain poa-

20i

JOSKPn WILMOT ; OB, THE MEMOIRS OP A MAN-SERVANT,

session of it. Its contents gave rise to manv,
many reflections : but with these I will not
trouble the reader, lest he should imagine that my
aim is to extend this narrative to an unaeceesarj
length.

I had promised Cosmo, after we Lad caught
sight of Lanover, that I would not leave the hotel,
unless acting by his counsel— and at all events not
until he should have ascertained certain requisite
particulars with regard to Mr. Lanover's place of
abode, his passport, and so forth. Accordingly,
after breakfast, I remained in my own apartment,
from the window of which I could obtain a view
of the port, and of tlie Athene, which still con-
tinued perfectly tranquil in its position between
the island and the lower pier. In about a couple
of hours Cosmo made his appearance ; and I
awaited with a considerable degree of suspense
the information he might have to give me.

" I have discovered," said Cosmo, " that Mr.
Lanover arrived late last night at Civita Vecchia,
and that he has taken up his abode at a small inn,
or coffee-house, in that very street whence we saw
him emerge. I have further ascertained that he
travels with his passport duly made out in the
name of Lanover — that he uses no fictitious name
— and that his passport is altogether in such good
order it would be impossible for the police-
authorities of the town to raise a quibble upon it :
otherwise we might have caused him to be sud-
denly arrested, and thus frustrate his schemes at
once."

" And what do you propose to do ?" I in-
quired.

"It is row my intention," answered Cosmo,
" to leave you temporarily — I dare say it will only
be for a day or so ; because to-morrosv, accord-
ing to the appointment made in the ruin near
Magliano, Dorchester is to meet Lanover in this
town. I shall strip off the livery," proceeded
Cosmo, " which I assumed to give a colour to my
connection with yourself; and resuming my plain
clothes, shall go and take up my quarters at the
coffee-house where Lanover is lodging. You must
remain in-doors until you see me again."

This injunction I promised to obey; and Cosmo
then took his departure. The hours passed
wearily enougli : for my mind was for many
reasons too unsettled to allow me to sit down
quietly to rend ; and I do verily believe that
during those slowly passing hours I reviewed over
and over again every incident of my adventurous
Ufe.

It was about nine o'clock in the evening when
the waiter entered my apartment, to announce
that a gentleman desired to see me. A card was
handed to me ; and I read the name of Constan-
tino Eanaris. I at once bade the waiter admit
the visitor : for it struck me that he had come
with a message from Signer Portici— because if
it were otherwise, he would not have disobeyed
the hint he Imd received from the Judge to keep
away from me for the present. Eanaris entered,
enveloped in a handsome dark blue cloak lined
with sables ; and in contrast with which his red
Greek cap appeared picturesquely striking. The
■wind was blowing strong and chill ; and it was
therefore no wonder that he should have thus
shielded himself against it by means of that warm
£u.l ample garment.

Having cordially shaken me by the hand,
Eanaris let the cloak fall from his shoulders-
tossed away his red fez — and sate down with mo
in front of the cheerful fire that was burning in
the grate. The wind had imparted a glowing
flush to his cheeks ; and he appeared handsomer
even th'an when we first met.

" I hope, my dear Mr. Wilmot," he said, " that
there is no indiscretion in my intrusion at such
an hour ? — and I must at once put you at your
ease with the assurance that it is not merely with
Signor Portici's cognizance, but also with his con-
sent, tjiat I am here."

" Do you bring any note or message from the
worthy Judge ?" I inquired.

'■' Nothing," replied Eanaris, " beyond his
kindest wishes— and also everything properly com-
plimentary from my Leonora."

'•' Do not for an instant suppose, Signor
Eanaris," I said, " that there is any unwelcome
intrusion on your part. On the contrary, you are
most welcome. I was sitting dull enough by my-
self here — and was longing for companionship of
any kind. Signor Portici is under existing cir-
cumstances one of the best judges as to whether it
be expedient for you to visit me; and since he has
given his consent, there need be no more said
upon the subject."

" I must frankly avow, my dear Mr. Wilmot,"
answered the young Greek, " that it was not with-
out much intercession on my part I obtained
the consent of Sig^nor Portici to this visit. I as-
sured him — and most truly assured him — that I
had conceived a friendship for you — a friendship
which I flattered myself to be mutual — and that I
therefore longed to see you again. Besides, in my
own imagination I pictured you just as you have
described yourself, and just as I found you— sitting
all alone, in no particularly good spirits — nay,
more, feeling yourself a complete stranger in a
strange country, and not knowing how to while
away the time under these dispiriting influences.
The Judge admitted the force of all my reasoning,
and at length gave his assent that I should visit
you, on condition that I did so under circum-
stances as cautious as possible. So I left the sweet
society of my Leonora an hour earlier than I
should have otherwise done, in order to pass this
hour with you."

There was an off-hand kindness — a frank
cordiality, together with a genial warmth in the
tone and manner of Constantine Eanaris, as he
thus spoke, which more than ever made me rejoice
in having formed the friendship of one who ap-
peared to combine the most amiable disposition
with the loftiest sentiments and noblest thoughts.
His friendly behaviour naturally disposed me to
exhibit the utmost confidence towards him ; and I
was just upon the point of explaining all the cir-
cumstances of my position in respect to Lanover
and his plans, when I bethought me that perhaps
Signor Portici himself might possibly have given
him some hint on the subject, — which could not
have been deemed a breach of confidence, con-
sidering that Eanaris was soon to be so closely
connected with himself, and that he exhibited so
much sincere friendship towards me. I therefore
said, " Perhaps our mutual friend the Judge baa
afforded you some insight into the affairs which
have brought me to Civita Vecchia ?"

JOSEPH VVIIMOT ; OB, THE MEMOIE3 OF A MAN-SEBVAKf .

203

"Ifo, not iu the least degree," replied the young
Greek, with the most open-hearted frankness.
" The Judge never talks of the affairs of others,
unless they be the subject of common conversation.
Do not misunderstand me, my dear Mr. Wilmot,"
Constantine hastened to add : " I come not
hither through any motives of impertinent curi-
osity "

" ^0 such assurance is necessary !" I ejaculated,
pained at the idea that he should think it was : and
then I was about to give him the fullest expla-
nations, when it suddenly struck me that I really
was not a free agent in the matter. I had in the
first instance sought Signer Portici's counsel, and
he had advised me to maintain the utmost caution
and reserve. Cosmo — the intelligent Cosmo — was
working for me ; and I felt that I ought to do no-
thing without his concurrence. I remembered
likewise how dissatisfied he was at the step I had
taken in seeking an interview with the Earl of
Eccleston without his previous knowledge, — not-
withstanding that the result of that interview was
the clearing-up of one point desirable to be ascer-
tained. As these considerations flashed through
my mind, I resolved to hold my peace, even though
Constantine might look upon my reserve as savour-
ing of an unfriendly want of confidence.

Kanaris however seemed to have no thought
upon the subject — but at once began discoursing
on general topics with the well-bred ease and readi-
ness of one whose sole object was to render himself
agreeable. I rang the bell and ordered up wine.
Kanaris then produced his cigar-case, — saying with
a smile, " I presume these being bachelors' quar-
ters, may be treated as such."

" Certainly," I responded, accepting one of the
cigars for companionship's sake, although indeed I
very seldom smoked.

"And what on earth have you been doing with
yourself all yesterday and to-day, in this dull
town?" inquired Kanaris after a brief pause in
the conversation.

" To-day I have not been out since the morn-
ing," I answered: "but yesterday "

" Ah ! by the bye, yesterday I heard of you,"
interjected Constantine : " for according to promise
I called upon that poor fellow who broke his leg
with his rash and inexperienced horsemanship."

" Yes," I responded, suddenly colouring deeply
at the idea that Notaras had since taken me for a
spy : " I visited him yesterday."

" And you most kindly proffered him a few
little elegancies and delicacies which his own poor
tavern could not furnish. He mentioned the cir-
cumstance," added Constantine, " when I called
upon him— which was about an hour after you had
been with him."

"' And have you seen him since ?" I inquired,
studying the young Greek's countenance : for I
felt that not for the world would I have him think
that I had been consciously and willingly enacting
the part of a spy, or aiding another to do so.

" IS'o, I have not seen him since," answered
Constantine, who was smoking his cigar iu a man-
ner of careless leisurely ease which led me to infer
that he was treating the topic as a mere casual
one; — so that my mind was instantaneously at
ease. "I called at his tavern again this fore-
noon," proceeded Kanaris ; " but I learnt that he
had gone on board his ship— and as I was too

anxious to see my Leonora I did not think it
worth while to follow him thither. Not but that
as a fellow-countryman of mine, I would show him
every attention : but I naturally concluded that if
he were well enough to suffer himself to be moved,
it would be little more than an idle compliment
for me to take so much trouble to inquire after
his health."

I was just on the point of stating that I myself
had been on board the schooner, when it struck
me that such an announcement might give a turn
to the conversation trenching upon the sanctity of
the secret with which Cosmo had entrusted me;
and therefore I held my peace. But this neces-
sity of keeping a guard over my conduct and
weighing every word ere I gave utterance to it,
made me feel awkward and embarrassed, and ex-
cited a sensation as if I were maintaining a cold
and unfriendly reserve with one whose behaviour
and demeanour towards myself were of such a
very opposite character.

" I think however," said Kanaris, continuing
the strain of his discourse, " 1 shall go and call on
Notaras to-morrow, for two reasons — in the first
place to ascertain how he progresses under the
serious injury he has sustained, and in the second
place to have an opportunity of seeing that vessel
of his. Are you astonished, my dear friend," ex-
claimed Constantine, laughing, " that I should ex-
hibit this much curiosity ?"

"No, no," I said, somewhat confusedly:
"but "

" I think I told you," proceeded Kanaris, who
did not appear to have noticed my interjection, as
he was lighting another cigar at the time, — " that
I may boast the relationship of the great Greek
commander ; and as I have often and often been
on board my uncle's ships, I have somewhat of a
fancy for nautical matters. I was looking at that
schooner yesterday ; and it certainly strikes me to
be a beautiful model of a vessel "

" There can be no denying," I said, " that it is
one of the most beautiful ever seen."

"Perhaps you will accompany me onboard?"
observed Kanaris carelessly, as he threw himself
loungingly back in his seat. " But, Ah ! I forgot
that we must not be seen together for the present.
"Well, I must go alone then to-morrow — in the
forenoon — before I pay my usual visit to the Portici
Villa."

" I have already been on board that schooner,"
I said, now perceiving how useless it would be to
suppress a fact which Constantine was sure to
ascertain on the morrow, — and the suppression of
which, moreover, would naturally appear most
strange and suspicious in his eyes.

" Ah — indeed !" he observed. " And when ?
Notaras did not tell me that he had sent you on
board his vessel to visit it — and, now that I bethink
me, he was not courteous enough to make me a
similar offer. But is she really worth seeing? — or
is she crammed to the very hatchways with mer-
chandize—and belying, with the dirt, dust, and
confusion of her interior, the cleanliness, beauty,
and elegance which seem to characterize her ex-
ternally r"

" I think you will bo much surprised," I an-
swered, not choosing to avoid the topic pointedly,
although by the listless conversational manner in
which Kanaris was pursuing the theme, it seemed

206

JOSEPH ■VnXMOT; OS, THE MIMOIES OF A MAIT-SEBVAlfT.

as it' it were easy to direct bis attention to any
other topic, — " I think you will be much surprised
with the general appearance of the vessel. It is
exceedingly neat in all its appointments — superior

too for a trader But then I am no judge," I

added, assuming an indiiFerent off-hand manner to
the best of my ability. " I have never been on
board more than two or three vessels in my life —
including the steamer which conveyed me from
England to France when I first came upon the
Continent."

"And I cannot profess to be anything of a
sailor," observed Eanaris. " I am sorry to say,"
he added with a sigh, " I inherit very little in-
deed of my uncle's enthusiasm for the sea."

" I could tell that you were no very great
judge," I observed smiling, " with regard to those
subjects : because you spoke of that schooner
being probably tilled with merchandise to its very
hatchways — whereas if it really were, it would not
lie so buoyant upon the water — but its gunwale
would be much deeper down."

'■ Ah — true !" said £anaris carelessly, as he
knocked oif the ashes of his cigar. " Why, you
are even better versed in nautical matters than I
am," he exclaimed, laughing. '■ After all, though,
I wonder that Captain ^S'otaras should have ex-
changed his comparatively comfortable room at a
tavern for a wretched, narrow, cheerless cabin on
board a merchant. vessel."

" I think you will be somewhat surprised," I
eaid, "at the dimensions and the comfort of the
quarters in which you will find Captain Xotaras
to-morrow. But there is one point," I added, " on
which I really must touch, since the conversation
has taken the present turn : for I would not for
the world bs unjustly prejudiced in your estima-
tion ■"

"Prejudiced, my dear friend?" exclaimed
Eanaris, with astonishment depicted on his coun-
tenance. " What on earth can you mean ? — who
could prejudice you in my eyes? — who would
undertake such an impossible task ? Pray, for
heaven's sake, let us change the topic at once."

" Isot so," I rejoined. " A thousand thanks for
your kind opinion of me ; and I hold it not so
lightly that I choose to run the risk of losing
it."

" But really, my dear Air. Wilmot," said Ka-
naris, with an air of the most friendly concern,
"it is so absolutely unnecessary — so painful to my
feelings "

" Bear with me for a few minutes," I inter-
rupted him ; '•' and you will see that I have suffi-
cient reason fur speaking thus."

'•■ Then proceed," said Xanaris, but with a
ieprecating smile, as much as to imply that if
I were wilfully bent upon having my own wa^,
it was useless for him to offer farther remonstrance
and I must therefore have it.

"' A few words," I said, ••' will convey the entire
truth. Yesterday, after having c -_»rd upon Cap-
tain Ifotaras, I was loitering on the quay admir-
ing the schooner, when a domestic whom I had
taken into my service, proposed to call a boat that
I might go on board. This was donej and I
visited the vessel, — impelled, as heaven is my wit-
ness, by curiosity only. Yet this morning when I
■went forth to breathe the fresh air before break-
cet. and chanced to behold Captain li^otaras as he

was being conveyed to a boat — and when too I
accosted him with all becoming courtesy — I found
myself rudely treated by himself, scornfully re-
garded by one of his officers, and scowlingly looked
upon by his men. But whatsoever suspicion
those persons may have entertained "

" And what possible suspicion could they have
entertained r" asked Eanaris, fixing his eyes upon
me with an air of bewildered astonishment.

" All that I wish you to understand, my friend,"
I rejoined, " is that whatsoever sinister motives
may be imputed by Captain Xotaras, when next
you see him, to my visit to his vessel, are utterly
and totally false."

'•' And is this all you have to say, my dear Mr.
Wilmot ?" inquired Constantine. " It really was
not worth so many words on your part to justify
yourself against a misrepresentation which has not
yet been made to me — which perhaps never will be
made — but which, if made at all, would at once
be repelled with scorn and contempt. But, by
the bye, I think you said that you had a valet
with you? Did he in any way misconduct him-
self? was he impertinently prying and curious, as
valets are apt to be sometimes "

'•' So far from it," I answered, "' that my valet
appeared to be perfectly indifferent as to all he
saw."

" Ab, well !" cried Eanaris, '• you know the man
doubtless — he is steady and respectable, I hope

because, my dear friend, I have had a little

experience of these Italian domestics, and some of
them are terrible deceitful fellows."

"■ This man, I can assure you," I interjected,
" was most strongly recommended to me by a gen-
tleman of position, rank, and distinction."

"Then all we can say is that my Greek fellow-
countrymen of the schooner," observed Eanaris,
" must have laboured under some egregious mis-
conception. But when I think of it," he added,
after a few moments' silence, " it is possible that
Xotaras may do a trifle in the smuggling way. I
do not pledge myself, you know " — and he laughed
good-humouredly as he spoke — "for the integrity
of the captain of any Greek trader, although he be
a fellow-countryman of mine. If the surmise
which has thus suddenly struck me be correct—
and if iNotaras deals in the contraband — it will at
once account for the suspicious circumstances you
have mentioned."

" And if he dealt in contraband or anything
else," I observed, "could he suppose that I should
purposely seek his vessel with a view of espying or
betraying his proceedings ?"

" It is simply preposterous — indeed it is laugh-
able," ejaculated Eanaris; "and if you have taken
so much trouble to disabuse me of a prejudice which
could not possibly be inculcated, it was a sad waste
of words indeed. However, as I see that you
choose to stand right with everybody, I will tell
this to Captain iXotaras to-morrow — if I do take it
into my head to visit his ship, which is barely
probable, after his rude boorish conduct to-
wards you, but if I rfo, I say, I will take

very good care to speak my mind on the subject.
And now, having trespassed thus long upon you,
and extended my visit to two hours instead of
one," he added, looking at his watch, "' I bid you
farewell for the present."

Constantine Eanaris resumed his cloak and iez

JOSEPH ■WILirOT; OE, THE jrEjIOmS 01 A MAN-SERVANT.

207

— lighted another cigar — shook me warmly bj the
hand — and took his departure. I was more than
ever pleased with my Greek friend ; and I could
not help congratulating myself on the manner in
which I had succeeded in conducting my discourse
relative to the schooner without in the faintest de-
gree trenching upon the sanctity of Cosmo's secret,
or betraying my knowledge of the mysterious cha-
racter of that vessel.

" Knnaris himself," I thought, " is totally un-
suspicious of the real nature of that vessel ; and
it is therefore evident that Signer Portici baa
breathed not into his ear a single syllable of
whatsoever he himself may have heard from Cosmo
upon the subject. The judge is a shrewd man :
for not even to the intended husband of his niece
does he discourse on matters which prudence
recommends him to keep within his own breast."

CHAPTER CXX.

THE COFFEE-HOUSE.

The following day was Monday — that Monday on
which Mr. Lanover and Mr. Dorchester were to
meet together in Civita Yecchia. In pursuance of
Cosmo's injunctions, I remained carefully secluded
in my own apartments at the hotel. I rose early
— for I was full of suspense in respect to what the
day might bring forth : the breakfast passed away
almost untasted ; and scarcely conscious of what I
was doing, I presently found myself posted at the
window which commanded a view of the port.
There lay the Athene, just in the same position as
that in which I had before seen her : not one single
incli did she appear to have moved — and not the
slightest sign was there of any intention to set
sail.

The hours passed ; and it was not until about
three o'clock in the afternoon that Cosmo made
his appearance. He entered hastily ; and with far
more excitement than he was accustomed to ex-
hibit, he exclaimed, " Come, sir — quick, quick !
there is not an instant to be lost ! Come and all
will be well or at least I hope so."

I snatched up my hat and hastened to accom-
pany Cosmo : he said not another word — indeed
there was no time for explanation, with such speed
did he hurry me off. We passed out of the back
of the hotel, where there was a private gate ; and
he led me through several bye-ways and alleys, —
his intention evidently being to avoid the principal
streets. At length we reached a small mean-
looking tailor's shop, which we entered. The tailor
himself was at work upon a pair of pantaloons
which already appeared too ancient and too well
pieced to endure much more patching. The mo-
ment we made our appearance, he flung the gar-
ment aside — nodded significantly to Cosmo — and
at once led the way to an inner room. Thence a
door opened into a little back-yard, whither Cosmo
bade me follow him ; and as he passed by the tailor,
■who stood at the door, he dropped a piece of gold
into his hand, I therefore understood that this
was the fee for the service which he was perform-
ing— though what its precise nature was, I could
not immediately divine.

A few instants, however, showed me. Cosmo»

leaping upon an inverted tub, quickly scaled the
low wall which separated the tailor's yard from
the one at the back of another house ; and I as
quickly followed. The back door of this second
house was standing open : a woman immediately
made her appearance — and by her significant
looks I saw that she likewise, as well as the tailor,
was in Cosmo's interest. She said a few words to
him ; and turning to me, he observed, " We are in
plenty of time."

The woman then led us up a staircase, into a
small back parlour on the first floor — where she
left us.

" Look !" said Cosmo ; " there is but a t liia
wainscot between this room and the next. Place
your ear against it— I will go into the other room
and speak in a conversational tone. See if you
can catch what I say."

He did as he intimated ; and I could plainly
hear every syllable he uttered. He returned to
me; and I told him that such was the fact.

" We may now sit down and converse," he said,
" until we hear footsteps ascending the stairs. But
by the bye, we will take this precaution:" — and
he locked the door.

" Now, what does all this mean ?" I anxiously
inquired. " Are we, as I surmise, in the coffee-
house "

'■'Yes — where Lanover is residing, and where
Dorchester has also taken up his temporary
quarters."

"Ah! then Dorchester has arrived?" I ciacu-
lated.

"Listen to what I have to tell you," rejoined
Cosmo. " Mr. Lanover occupies the adjoinic"-
room as his parlour. He was out nearly the
whole of yesterday ; and as I had not been able
to follow him iu the first instance, I did not think
it worth while to go searching alter him— perhaps
uselessly; and I therefore remained here laying
my plans. As you have seen, I succeeded in
winning over— with little trouble indeed— the
woman of the coffee-house, and the tailor iu the
adjacent dwelling : for I foresaw the necessity of
securing a safe means of ingress and egress for
yourself when the proper time should some. You
understand wherefore ? I do not comprehend
English ; and it is of course in their own native
tongue that Lanover and Dorchester will con-
I verse : so that you must be the listener. Lanover
returned to his lodging at an early hour last cven-
] ing ; and he soon went to bed. This mornino-,
i immediately after breakfast, he told the landlady
that an English gentleman would come to the
house in the couroe of a few hours — and that if
he (Lanover) were not in at 'the time, the womaa
was to say he would be certain to return between
three and four o'clock. He then went out. I
arranged with the woman everything that was
to be done. It was a little before three that the
Englishman arrived, giving the name of Dor-
Chester. He inquired for Mr. Lanover ; and the
message was delivered according to Lanover's in-
structions. Mr. Dorchester then said that he
should leave his trunk here, as he might stay a
day or two, or he might be off immediately after
his interview with Mr. Lanover — it was quite un-
certain. The landlady showed him to a bed-room,
apologising for not being able to give him a par-
lour: and this she did in order that the interview

208

JOSEPH WILMOT; OR, THE MEMOIRS OP A MAN-SEETANT.

between the two plotters must necessarily take
place in Lanover's room, so that you and I might
have possession of this one. Dorchester said he
should go out to look at the town for half-an-hour
or so, as he had never heen here before ; and then
I instantaneously hurried off to fetch you."

" And so Mr. Dorchester," I said, " is passing
under his right name, the same as Lanover is with
his own ?"

" Yes — these men are evidently wary enough,"
replied Cosmo. " Perhaps we shall have leisure
and occasion to ascertain whether Dorchester's

passport is all correct And yet the inquiry

can be scarcely worth the trouble : for, as I have
just observed, men of his character usually adopt
every precaution to keep themselves beyond the
reach of the passport laws."

" And Dorchester, too," I added, "is well ac-
quainted with the Continent. I have already told
you the trick that he played me in Paris, and how
I subsequently found him dwelling like a hermit
amongst the Apennines — but a very dangerous
sort of anchorite, though ; for he was in league
with Marco Uberti's band."

'•'Ah!" said Cosmo, "if we could only manage
to find the scoundrel within the limits of the
Tuscan States, we would hand him over to the
strong grasp of the law. However, in carrying
out our present business, Mr. Wilmot, it is to be
hoped that we shall catch both Lanover and Dor-
chester tripping — in which case the Ivoman law '
will not spare them. By the bye, you liad a visit
last night from the young Greek gentleman who
is engaged to be married to Signor Portici's
niece ?"

"Yes — I was going to tell you of it at our '
leisure," I answered. " But," I added, with a [
smile, "you must not chide me on this occa- '<
sion "

" No," responded Cosmo, " for I am aware that
Signor Eanaris visited you with the Judge's full
consent. I called at the villa last evening, when
I knew that Lanover was safe in bed ; and Signor
Portici informed me that he had stretched a point
in your favour in respect to that visit on the part
of Signor Xanaris. There could indeed be no
harm under the circumstances : for the only objects
in keeping you secluded, were to prevent jou from
being seen by Lanover or Dorchester — or, if seen, \
to prevent them from having any reason to sus-
pect that you were in any way acquainted with
the Judge or with his friends. For of course
it was impossible to conjecture in the first instance
what ramifications Lanover's plot might have —
who were his acquaintances at Civita Yecchia — or i
who his spies. For when people are working in
the dark — as is comparatively the case with us — I
they have to take a thousand precautions, many of 1
which may eventually prove to be needless ones, ;
but none of which ought to be neglected." ■

" All you say is perfectly correct," I remarked.

" As for Signor Kanaris," continued Cosmo, I
" he would no doubt cheerfully lend you his aid if '
it were required ; inasmuch as from all I can learn j
from Signor Portici's lips, be is a young gentle-
man of the noblest disposition, the kindest heart, |
and the most honourable sentiments. He has j
moreover conceived the utmost friendship for you ;
and therefore Signor Portici permitted him to
break in upon yoiz?. ionely dullness."

I "But I can assure you," I said, " I was per*
! fectly discreet, and spoke not of my private affairs
to Signor Eanaris."

"You wore right," answered Cosmo. " !N'ever
in personal matters make a confidant unneces-
sarily— especially on a short acquaintance. The
evils which arise from an over friendly communi-
cativeness are incalculable ; and even when deal-
ing with so honourable a man as this young Greek,
it is better to be on the safe side and maintain a
suitable reserve. Such is the course which Signor
Portici himself invariably adopts, as he has assured
me; such too is my own policy — and therefore,
Mr. Wilmot, I hope you will excuse this long
lecture which I am taking the liberty of giving."

"I more than excuse you— I thank you," was
my response. " Indeed, when casting a retro-
spective glance over my ov.-n career, I find illustra-
tions of the truth of your maxims. I behold in-
stances in which if I had exercised a little more
reserve instead of being too prone to frank and
friendly communicativeness — if in a word I had
been less confiding, I should have escaped several
calamities. My adventures with the villain Dor-
chester himself furnish cafes in point "

" Hush !" suddenly ejaculated Cosmo : " foot-
steps are ascending 1"

I listened ; and in a few moments whispered,
" 1 know those footsteps they ^re Dorches-
ter's !"

Almost immediately afterwards we heard Mr.
Dorchester enter the adjoining room ; and he put
some inquiry in Italian to the landlady of the
coffee-house — for I should observe that he spoke
the Italian language with ease and fluency. The
woman answered him ; and Cosmo whispered to
me, "He is merely asking whether Mr. Linover is
yet returned ; and she has just replied in the ne-
gative. But here he is."

Again we heard footsteps ascending : I knew
them to be the heavy stamping tread of the vil-
lanous humpback ; and I at once took my position
against the wainscot which divided the two rooms-
so that I might be ready to catch whatsoever tra;
spired between the two plotters. We heard tli;^.
the door of the next apartment was carefully shui
by Lanover ; and then his harsh jarring voice said,
" You are faithful to your appointment."

" Where there is money to be earned," responded
Dorchester, " I am not likely to be found wanting.
May I hope that you received the remittance
which you expected at Magliano, and of which
you spoke to me?"

" Yes, yes," replied Lanover : " Lord Eccleston
kept his word. If he had not, I should have found
myself utterly unable to prosecute this enterprise.
The former one, as you are well aware, was alto-
gether ruined by that young scoundrel Joseph
Wilmot "

"Ah, young scoundrel indeed !'.' ejaculated Dor-
chester. "Only think that he should have been
the means of breaking up that glorious band "

" Well, well," interrupted Lanover impatiently ;
" we have not met here to discuss past occurrences,
but to carry out present enterprises. What have
you to tell me ?"

" On parting from you at Magliano," responded
Dorchester, "I proceeded at once, according to
your instructions, to Leghorn "

"I suppose that you were well disguised?" in-

JOSEPH WILMOT; OE, THB MEM0IB3 OF A MAN- SERVANT,

terjected Lanorer : and now his harsli jarring voice i
sent forth a chuckling sound.

"Trust me for that!" ejaculated Dorchester.
" Who knows tho art of disguise so well as I do ?
— and furnished with three or four different pass-
ports to suit the Tarious disguises which I am thus
able to assume — those passports likewise being all
made out in different names •"

" But do come to the point !" interrupted Lan-
over. " What did you do ?"

" Everything you told mc," answered Dorches-
ter. "I went to Leghorn — found all the birds
there — took up my abode at the same hotel — got
acquainted with them — made myself most agree-
able to the old gentleman "

"And they are there now?" cried Lanover
eagerly.

"Yes— there now," returned Dorchester.

" And how long will they stop ?" demanded
Lanover.
79.

" Only a few days more — and then they propose
to return to Eugland. If it had not been for Sir
Matthew Heseltiue's illness after that affair with
Marco Uberti's band, they would have proceeded
straight to England at once. But his sickness
was, as you are aware, most dangerous : and the

physicians ordered him to Leghorn "

" I know all that," observed Lanover impatiently.
" Now, answer me a few questions. You say
you have got on pretty friendly terms with the old
Baronet ?"

" Excellent," answered Dorchester.

" And Mrs. Lanover — and Annabel ?"

" They are rather reserved towards all strangers

—but still courteous enough to me "

" And did you walk or ride out with them at
all ?" proceeded Lanover : " did you plan excur-
sions ? For remember, I told you to be particular

on these points "

" And I was," rejoined Dorchester. " Several

210

JOSEPH WILMOT; OE, THE MEMOIES OF A MAN-SBEVANT.

times I accompanied the Baronet and the ladies
for an airing in their carriage : on two occasions,
when the weather was exceedingly fine, I proposed
a boating excursion, assuring Sir Matthew that the
sea air would do him a world of good. We went
— and the old Baronet invited me to dine in the
evening."

" Nothing can be better !" exclaimed Xanover
gleefully: "you have indeed acquitted yourself
well. And now answer me candidly — do not for
an instant overrate the amount of influence you
have acquired with Sir Matthew and those ladies !
Do you think, when you go back to Leghorn, that
you will be enabled to pursue the same game — and
induce them, for instance, to accompany you on
an excursion ?"

" Ifo doubt of it !" responded Dorchester. " I
have no hesitation in speaking thus confidently."

"Good!" said Lanover. "And now, in re-
ference to that young reprobate Wilmot — have
you heard anything of him since we parted .''"

" If othing," returned Dorchester. " I had not
forgotten your instruction to keep a sharp watch
as to wliether he maintained any Correspondence
with Sir Matthew, Mrs. Lanover, or Annabel
Bentiuck "

" Ah ! they hdve given the girl her proper sur-
name," exclaimed Lanover, with a scornful chuckle :
" as is it I cared one single straw on that account !
But go on. Did you discover any indication of
such correspondence ? — did Annabel herself re-
ceive no letters secretly F"

" Nothing of all this," answered Dorchester. " I j
constantly watched the arrival of the postman, !
who deposited all letters at the porter's lodge in ^
the first instance ; and I was invariably there to I
look over them, undet pretence of being anxious |
about certain missing coi'respbndence of my own.
From all the supervision 1 was thus enabled to '
exercise, I can confidently answer that the Baronet 1
and the ladiiss received no letters from Joseph
Wilmot."

'•'Good!" again ejaculated lanover. "I fear
that youug marplot more than anything else."

" So you informed me at our place of appoint-
ment at Magliano," observed Dorchester ; '• and
considering the way in which he previously baffled
you when the Baronet and his family were so nicely
in the power of Marco Uberti, it is really no wonder
you spoke so bitterly against young Wilmot. But
how is it, friend Lanover," inquired Dorchester,
now assuming a chuckling laugh in his turn, " that
you have such influence with the Earl of Eecleston
as to be enabled to draw upon his purse for so fine
a sum as a thousand pounds at one time?"

" Look you, friend Dorchester !" answered the
humpback, with stern fierceness : " I did not bid
you meet me here to become the questioner, but to
give me an account of the matters in which I am
employing you."

" Oh, very well," ejaculated Mr. Dorchester, in
bis most conciliatory tone : " pray do not be
offended — it was merely a little venial curiosity on
taj part."

" Well, well," said Lanover, more mildly, " the
excuse is sufficient. But. if I told you, when we
met at Magliano, that I was expecting that remit-
tance from the Earl of Eecleston — and if I so spe-
cifically mentioned the sum — it was only to con-
vince you that I had ample means to remunerate

you liberally for the important services I then re-
quired and may still need at your hands. I think
we have now little more to say ■"

" Little more to say ?" ejaculated Dorchester,
in a tone of astonishment. " But your instructions
as to what next I am to do "

" These are given in a very few words," replied
Lanover. " You iilay get back to Leghorn as fast
as possible "

"Then surely," interrupted Dorchester, "a
letter from Leghorn in the first instance, acquaint-
ing you with all I have just been saying by word
of mouth, would have sufficed i"

" I am surprised at you !" ejaculated Lanover.
" What ! trust to the post-ofSce such important
matters as these? — risk everything to the thousand
and one accidents which constantly befall written
correspondence ?"

"Well — perhaps after all," said Dorchester,
" too much caution cannot be used."

" All the incidents of my life," rejoined Lan-
over, " have more and more showri me the neces-
sity of Caution. This is perhaps the last oppor-
tunity 1 shall have of compelling old Sir Matthew to
make suitable concessions ; and I am not going to
throw it away foolishly. When once he gets back
to England, there is afl end of every hope, unless
the blow be struck beforehand. Things can be
done on the Continent which if only put into a
a novel or romance in our own native country,
would be deemed preposterous. But we are wast-
ing precious time in these unncessary comments.
It is now half-past four o'clock — and I have got
another appointment for five."

" Here P" asked Dorchester.

" Yes — here," replied Lanover, " in this room.
Therefore now, without another word of useless
parley, listen to my instructions. As soon as you
have got your dinner, you must start off again for
Leghorn. Keturn to the same hotel — render your-
self more agreeable than ever to Sir Matthew and
the ladies — and be prepared to obey whatsoever
instructions may in the course of a few days be
conveyed to you in a note from me. And now
you will understand one of the reasons why I
deemed it expedient that we should have a per-
sonal interview here. I have arranged a mode
by which we may communicate in cypher, or
secret writing, and which I had not time to com-
bine and adjust when we met at Magliano : for,
as you are aware, I was then in all possible haste
to get off to Naples on important business. This
is the cypher I have arranged for our purpose —
another precaution, you perceive, against the evils
resulting from the miscarriage of letters. If I and
Marco TJberti had only corresponded at the time
by such means, that young marplot Joseph Wilmot
would never have found out my proceedings when
he examined the contents of my pocket-book at
Pistoja."

Lanover and Dorchester now conversed toge-
ther for some minutes in so low a tone, that I
could scarcely catch a word they said. I only
heard enough to prove to me that the humpback
was explaining to his companion the purlicular
cypher to be adopted for their secret correspon-
dence : but I obtained not the slightest clue to the
comprehension thereof. Vainly did I keep my
breath suspended— fruitlessly did I exert ail the
keenest powers of mj auscultatory faculty : I could

JOSEPH WIIMOT; OB, THH MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT.

211

not gather that which it would have been of so
much importance to learn.

"And now you understand ?" said Lanover, Lis
voice again becoming completely audible.

"A child may understand it," answered Dor-
chester, " after the explanation you have given :
but without such explanation the astutest genius
will fail to penetrate the secret of a letter written
in this cypher."

" Good !" said Lanover. '•' And now our con-
ference is at an end. Lose no time in setting off
for Leghorn ; and in the course of a few days — in-
deed, as early as possible — you will receive a letter
written in that cypher and conveying instructions
which you must carefully follow out. Here is a

further supply of money for your expenses

and here, too, is an additional earnest of what my
liberality will be when the work is completed."

The sounds of gold ringing upon the table in
the adjacent room met the ears of Cosmo and
myself; and then I beard Dorchester say, "Eest
assured, friend Lanover, you may rely upon me to
the utmost. If it be in my power to crown your
project with success, it shall be successful."

They then separated, — Dorchester issuing from
the room and descending the stairs — Lanover re-
maining behind in the apartment. I made a sign
to Cosmo to intimate that the in'brmation I bad
obtained was most important : and almost imme-
diately afterwards we heard other footsteps upon
the staircase which Dorchester had just descended.
These were ascending; and the landlady of the
establishment, throwing open the door of Lan-
over's room, introduced some male visitor. She
then retired ; and I heard Lanover say in French,

" You are most welcome 1 was expecting you.

Captain Notaras promised that you should be with
me at five punctually."

" And we are always punctual, Mr. Lanover,"
was the response, " when business is to be done."

The individual who thus spoke, was none other
than Notaras's lieutenant, or mate — whichever his
title were — who bad shown me and Cosmo over
the Athene : for I recognised his voice in an in-
stant.

CHAPTER CXXT.

PAETHEB DEVELOPMENT OF THE PLOT.

I PASS over for the present a description of all
the varied feelings that were excited within me
by the conversation which had taken place be-
tween Lanover and Dorchester : but I must pause
for an instant to remark how immense was my
astonishment, coupled too with a species of stupe-
fying terror, on hearing the name of Captain
jSTotaras thus suddenly mentioned. The pirates
and everything relative to the schooner were as
far away from my thoughts at the instant as if
they were not in existence at all : and when they
were so abruptly brought back to my recollection,
I was- stricken with wonderment and dismay
at the idea that those terrible corsairs were
indubitably mixed up in the nefarious plans
of Lanover. For what else could I think
than that the villain who was capable of con-
signmg Sir Matthew Heseltine, his daughter, and

granddaughter to the power of Marco Uberti's
ferocious band, was equally capable of invoking
the aid of a horde of detestable pirates in ordei
to carry out his views ? All the interest which
had been excited within me by that vessel of dark
treacherous beauty, now appeared in the light of a
presentiment, though utterly uneomprehended at
the time. When the first influence of wonder-
ment and dismayed terror bad in a few momenta
passed by, I shuddered to the deepest confines of
my being— throughout every nerve and fibre — to
the uttermost extremities of my form, at the bare
thought that my beloved Annabel, with those who
were near and dear to her, should be handed over
to the power of a gang of lawless freebooters !

Cosmo, — who was now enabled, as well as my-
self, to comprehend what was passing in the next
room, inasmuch as Lanover and the lieutenant
were conversing in French — the vile humpback,
be it observed, not understanding the Greek
tongue nor Italian either, — Cosmo, I say, had ex-
pressed his own astonishment by a slight start on
hearing the name of Captain Notaras mentioned.
He was evidently as much amazed as myself at
the fact that the pirates should thus suddenly be-
come in any way mixed up with Lanover's afiairs;
and it must also have stricken him as most sin-
gular that the two objects which had originally
brought himself and me from distinct parts of
Italy to Civita Vecchia, and which objects had
hitherto appeared so totally unconnected, should .
now all in a moment meet at the same point and
become as it were amalgamated. But while I am
giving range to these comments I am losing sight
of the conversation which was taking place between
Lanover and Notaras's lieutenant in the adjoining
room. With respect, however, to Notaras him-
self, the very first portion of the discourse which
Cosmo and I were now listening to, placed the
real rank and position of that individual in a new
and different light — or rather in a new and
diminished phase, though under the same sinister
light,— and which Cosmo had hitherto no more
suspected than I myself had.

The reader will recollect that when the lieute-
nant entered the adjoining room, Lanover at once
observed that the visitor was expected according
to the promise of Captain Notaras, whereupon the
lieutenant had made a brief but suitable reply;
and Lanover requested him to be seated.

"You have just spoken of Captain Notaras,"
said the Greek visitor ; " and I am aware that you
have all along imagined Notaras to be the captain
of the Athene "

" And is he not so ?" exclaimed Lanover, in s
tone of astonishment. " When I saw him in the
Bay of Naples he appeared to be in command of
the ship — the same too yesterday and to-day when
I visited him on board "

"Yes — truly," answered the officer, "Notaras
\vas in command of the ship when you saw him
in the Bay of Naples — and he is in command
still. He has exercised this command for the last
few months, inasmuch as the true and rightful
captain of the -Athene has been enjoying a holiday
—to which he was well entitled after eighteen
months' indefatigable attention to his responsibla
duties."

" Then who is your captain ?" inquired Lanover
" and why was I not told of all this before ?"

212

JOSEPH "WILMOT ; OE, THE KEMOrag 0? A MAN-SERVANT.

" I will answer your last question first," re-
sponded the officer. " It is our custom to be as
little communicative as possible — to keep our dis-
course invariably to the point — and not to enter
into any particulars which have no reference at the
time to the topics on which we may be addressed
by strangers. In your own case, it sufficed that
when, provided with a proper credential, you came
on board the Atheno in the Bay of Naples, there
was an officer in command who had authority to
hear your overtures, listen to your proposals, and
give thereto whatsoever answer he thought fit. So
much for your second question. Your first was —
who is our captain P — and the time has now come
when it is necessary to give you some explanation
on that head."

"The credential which I bore," interjected
Lanover, " and which was given me some few weeks
back by a Greek member of Marco Uberti's dis-
persed band "

" Tes— that Greek served under our flag at first,"

remarked the lieutenant ; " but not liking the sea,

he took to the land, and was led by a variety of

circumstances to find his way to the Apennines,

I where he joined Marco Uberti."

" I was about to observe," resumed Lanover,
" that the credential or letter of introduction, which
this Greek gave me in case I should ever have
need of the services of the brave crew of the
Athene — was addressed to Captain Durazzo. But
when I visited your vessel in the Bay of Naples
and presented my credential, Notaras at once
opened it, so that I naturally conceived that he was
Captain Durazzo himself. Perhaps too I thought
that as the good ship Athene," added Lanover with
a chuckle, " assumes a variety of colours, her com-
mander might deem it expedient to assume a
variety of names."

"Durazzo is really the name of our legitimate
captain," answered the officer, — or at least the one
which he has chosen to bear since he first equipped
the Athene for the sea. Notaras is his first lieu-
tenant— I have the honour of being the second
and an honour it indeed is, Mr. Lanover,"
added the officer emphatically ; " for a braver cap-
tain never trod the deck of a gallant vessel than
Durazzo!"

" You said just now," remarked the humpback,
" that the time had come when this explanation
must be given to me. Do you mean me to under-
stand that I am to be put in communication with
Captain Durazzo — or that he objects to the treaty
agreed upon between Notaras and myself ? Or
perhaps you have come to arrange finally with me
on the subject ?"

" This last is my purpose," responded the second
lieutenant of the Athene. " When Notaras inti-
mated to you this forenoon that he would give you
a decisive and conclusive answer this evening on
all points, and that he would send some one to
meet you here with that answer — it was because
Captain Durazzo was expected very shortly to
resume his command, and therefore Notaras was
compelled to consult him before another step could
be taken in your business."

" Now I comprehend," said Lanover ; " and I
am glad that Captain Durazzo is in the same
mind as Notaras with regard to this affair. Was
not Captain Durazzo previously acquainted with
t?"

" Some few words had been hastily spoken to
him on the subject," answered the second lieu-
tenant ; " but as he chose not to be troubled with
business at the time, he left it in the hands of
Lieutenant Notaras. It is only this day that
Captain Durazzo has been rendered fully and com-
pletely acquainted with your views and with the
terms you offer."

" And those terms," said Lanover hastily —
" were they deemed suitable by your captain ?"

'■ Perfectly so," was the officer's reply
" Eeckoning according to your English money,
you are to give a sum equivalent to five hundred
pounds for the transaction itself — the half to be
paid in advance, as an indemnity under any cir-
cumstances for the valuable time lost and the risk
incurred by remaining on these coasts — the
other two hundred and fifty pounds to be paid
when the work is done — and twenty-five pounds
per week all the time "

"Enough!" ejaculated Lanover: "those are
the conditions on which I agreed with Notaras.
And your Captain accepts them ?"

"He does," replied the second lieutenant.

" And when will the vessel sail ?" asked Lan-
over eagerly.

" In the middle of to-morrow night," was the
rejoinder. " You will of course come on board
and proceed with us : for that, I believe, was a
part of your proposition ?"

" Yes," said Lanover : " it is necessary that I
should accompany you for several reasons. At
what time shall I be required to embark to-
morrow evening ?"

" Captain Durazzo," answered the officer, "has
notified that he will be on board precisely at mid-
night. It were perhaps as well that you should
join us a couple of hours earlier. At ten o'clock,
therefore, to-morrow evening a boat shall be in

waiting for you at the usual landing-place and

see that you are punctual. Between this and then
no further communication must take place be-
tween yourself and the ship. It is now of the
utmost consequence that during the brief time we
remain here no suspicion should be excited as to
our true character : for the Austrian frigate Tyrol
is on the coast— w6 have this day received private
and special information that she was yesterday
seen off Ostia — and therefore we must be upon
our guard. She boarded us once; and though I
must confess that Notaras faced the officer in a
manner worthy of Durazzo's second in command,
— yet it would not by any means be agreeable to
be boarded by her a second time."

"But think you," asked Lanover, in a some-
what affrighted tone, " that there will be any
danger of falling in with her when our business is
accomplished."

"There is always danger," replied the second
lieutenant coolly, " to such a vessel as the Athene
— and therefore to all who may be found on board
of her. At the same time," he added, " when
once Durazzo stands again on the deck of that
schooner "

" I understand— I understand !" said Lanover,
more cheerfully : " his skill and his bravery in-
finitely diminish that danger and all other casual-
ties ?"

" There can be no doubt of it," returned tho
officer. "Notaras is a good sailor : but he cannot

JOSEPH WILMOT; OE, THE MEMOIRS OT A MAX-SEIiTAKT.

213

handle a ship with the same exquisite skill — he
cannot make her do so much and so completely
develope all her fine qualities as Captain Durazzo.
The commander of a vessel is to his ship what a
rider is to a horse : some can manage both better
than others— one man can make the ship achieve
marvels upon the sea, as another can do the same
with a horse upon the land. There are peculiar
capacities and qualities which a consummate skill
can cause a vessel to display, in the same manner
that the expertest rider elicits the finest mettle of
the steed. So it is with Durazzo. Besides,
Notaras is disabled with that unfortunate accident
of his ; and he would not have gone on board his
ebip so speedily if he had not at the time some
reason to imagine that a suspicion of its true
character was entertained and that spies had been
on board."

"Ah, indeed!" ejaculated Lanover. "Captain
—I mean Lieutenant Notaras mentioned nothing
of all this to me."

" Have I not already informed you," asked the
officer, " that it is not our custom to touch upon
matters that are irrevelant to any dealings which
at the moment we may have with strangers? But
now, since you are coming amongst us, there is
no necessity to conceal these things from your
knowledge. We are straight-forward in our
way ; and I am thus explicit with you, Mr.
LuDover, that you may not be kept in the dark as
to the risks which you will possibly have to en-
counter in coming on board the Athene."

" But what reason, then," inquired the hump-
back, " had Notaras for his suspicions ?"

" Accident so ordained it," was the officer's ex-
planation, "that a young Englishman should be
thrown in the way "

"A young Englishman?" ejaculated Lanover
eagerly. " And what was his name ? But,
pshaw ! — the thought is ridiculous ! Why should
my head always be running upon "

" llis name," said the officer, " is Wilmot."

" Wilmot !" vociferated Lanover : and I heard
his clenched fist violently striking the table in the
adjoining room. " By heaven, it is the same !"

"How? — what?" exclaimed the lieutenant: "is
he indeed a spy after all?"

" A spy — yes !" answered Lanover, — "a spy
upon everything that does not concern him! — a
veritable marplot if ever there were one ! — a fellow
capable of all kinds of mischief "

" But is he a spy ?" again demanded the officer :
"for we really have excellent reasons for be-
lieving that he is nothing of the sort — at least so
far as our vessel is concerned. It is true that he
has come to Civita Yecchia on some private and
important business, and that he brought letters of
introduction to Signor Portici the Chief Judge :
but Portici himself has no suspicion in respect to

Ihe Athene or at least if he have," added the

officer in a gravely musing tone, " he keeps it so

well to himself But no ! All things considered,

it is impossible ! Yes — I declare emphatically, it
is absolutely impossible that Portici can sus-
pect !"

" But what about this Wilmot ?" asked Lanover
suddenly.

" He visited our ship, attended by his lacquey,"
answered the lieutenant ; " and after some consider-
able hesitation I showed him over it. I believed

then, as I believe noio, that he was influenced only

by curiosity •"

" And yet you said," observed Lanover, " that
suspicions were excited ?"

" Yes— after the visit," said the lieutenant : "but
then something occurred to disabuse our minds in
that respect. Indeed, though we have been utterly
unable to learn what the object of his presence at
Civita Vecchia can be, we are all but convinced
that it can really have no reference to ourselves.
He came from Rome, where he had been staying

some little time "

" Then, depend upon it," exclaimed Lanover, in
a tone of fierce rage, "he has got some inkling of
my proceedings, which he has every motive to
thwart and baflle. Where is he now ?"

" In Civita Vecchia at this very moment," an-
swered the lieutenant, — " or at least to the best of
my knowledge."

"Then, by heaven!" ejaculated Lanover — and I
could hear him start up from his seat, his heavy
shoes stamping upon the floor of the adjacent room

— " by heaven, I'll "

" Patience, my good sir !" interrupted the second
lieutenant: " let us see what all this means. Who
is this Joseph Wilmot ? is he not a young English-
man of property travelling for his pleasure ?"

"He is an Englishman— and he has got property
somehow or another," replied Lanover. " I have
only known him for a few years— but during this
time he has given me a world of trouble. He be-
lieves me to be his uncle— but there is really no
more relationship betwixt him and me than there
is between myself and you. And therefore I should
not mind if a stone were tied round the young
rascal's neck, and he was dropped over the side of
your schooner into the sea. What say you?— shall
it be done? — shall it ?"

"Mr. Lanover," answered the officer, with stern
accents, " we are not murderers of that staiap :
we never take life in cold blood. It is enough to
be compelled to do so in self-defence and iu the
heat of a fairly fought fray."

"No, no!" ejaculated Lanover, "I was wrong
to make such a proposal : but I was goaded into a
violent passion ! Forgive me, sir — make allow-
ances ! — for that young fellow crosses and thwarts
me at every turn ! The worst of it is I am more
or less in his power— perdition seize him !" conti-
nued Lanover, rather in a musing way than ad-
dressing himself direct to the officer— as I could
tell by the vehement ejaculatory intonations of his
voice. "I have done so many things to him, that
whenever I set foot in England again he could
compromise me seriously — yes, seriously, seriously

and as a matter of course it does not suit me

to shut out my own country altogether against oy-
self. Or else— or else I could wreak a crushing
vengeance upon him — I could write anonymously to
Sir Matthew, revealing all the affair of Lady

Calanthe But no ! he would instantaneously

suspect who was the author of that mischief making

—and then Besides, after all, the old baronet

might forgive hira "

"Eeally, Mr. Lanover," interrupted the lieu-
tenant, "you are speaking of matters which aro
perfectly enigmatical to me ; and yet you continue
talking as if you thought I understood them as
familiarly and intimately as yourself."

"I am driven almost beside myself!" exclaimed

214

JOSEPH ■n-ILMOT ; OE, THE MEMOIRS OF A 1^A■N•-SBETA^'■T.

the humpback. " Porgive me all this vehe-
mence "

" It is tolerably clear," interrupted the officer,
" that this Joseph Wilmot merely regards yourself

personally, and has nothing to do with us But,

ah ! when I betNnk me, answer me one question, i
Mr. LanoTcr. Have you confided to a single soul
the nature of the treaty you have been negotiating
with us ? — have you suffered it to transpire ? For
in tliat case — if you have been so imprudent, and
if it should have oozed out to WUmot's knowledge
for what purpose we are on this coast, — then might
we indeed account for his visit to our ship — our
opinion would be altered — and we should really
take liim for a spy. Come, Mr. Lanover — do not
deceive me ! If you have unguardedly compromised
us, deal candidly with me at once — and there will
be an end of the entire matter. We should decline
the execution of the treaty ; and you would have
to look out for some other means of executing
your purpose : — but candour must characterize all

your dealings with us otherwise it were dan-

gerous — "

" Most positively and sacredly do I assure you,"
answered Lanover, " that I have neither done nor
said anything to compromise you. Tou know not
how cautious I am. I have not even as yet deve-
loped my intentions to the agent Dorchester whom
I am employing : in a word, I have breathed a syl-
lable to no man in respect to my compact with you.
No— it is impossible that Wilmot can suspect aught
of all this ! — and if I just now denounced him as a
spy in respect to the Athene, it was in the heat of
passion. Some inkling he may have obtained of
my proceedings in a certain quarter : but that he
can for an instant form a conjecture as to what
they are to lead, it is absolutely impossible !"

" In this case," observed the officer, " I must
leave him entirely to your management : it forms
no part of our compact that we are to interfere with
him."

" Yes, yes — leave him to me !" said Lanover, in
all the bitterness which the malignity of his dispo-
sition was but too capable of throwing into the
tones of his harsh jarring voice. " But tell me — do
you know where he resides?"

" Tes," answered the officer : and he named the
hotel at whifh I was living. "But now I think
we have little more to say to each other. Tou
have to pay me two hundred and fifty pounds at
once ; and to-morrow night, at ten o'clock, you will
be at the landing-place in readiness for the boat
to take you on board."

Immediately afterwards the chinking of gold
upon the table in the adjoining room met the ears
of Cosmo and myself; and some few minutes
elapsed while Lanover was telling down the money
aad the officer was counting it afterwards.

" I will now bid you farewell," said the latter.
'• Stay ! I will go out with you," responded the
humpback: "my way lies partly the same as
your's — for I must go and reconnoitre the hotel
where that young marplot lives."

" Ko," said the lieutenant ; " it will not do for
us to be seen together. Let me depart first : you
can issue forth in ten minutes — and whatsoever
scheme you may resolve upon in respect to this
enemy of your's, will perhaps be all the better
executed for a little serious meditation. Once
more farewell."

The second lieutenant of the Athene then took
his departure; and a few minutes after he had
gone, Lanover rang the bell, which summons was
answered by the landlady. He inquired whether
Mr. Dorchester had taken his departure ? — and
she replied in the affirmative, adding that he had
been gone about a quarter of an hour.

" Enough !" said Lanover. " I myself have to
go out again. See that between nine and ten
o'clock you have a good hot supper for me."

The landlady withdrew ; and for the next ten
minutes Lanover was heard pacing to and fro in
the adjoining room, like a wild beast chafing in his
cage. Then he abruptly issued forth, and de-
scended the stairs with his great heavy foot-
steps.

I now hastily translated to Cosmo everything
that I had overheard between Dorchester and
Lanover in the first instance : for, as the reader is
aware, the police-spy himself had listened as well
as I to the discourse between the humpback and
the lieutenant.

" What is to be done ?" I inquired when I had
finished speaking. "Shall we have Lanover
arrested ?"

" That is not for me alone to decide," answered
Cosmo : " we must do nothing inconsiderately. It
is now time to take Signor Portici's advice. There
is no longer any reason why you should abstain
from visiting him. Hasten you therefore to the
villa — I will speed to the hotel — I shall get there
before Lanover — and if he makes any inquiries
concerning you, I will take care that they be an-
swered in a sense to throw him utterly off his
guard — so that in the meanwhile we may take the
Judge's advice and act accordingly."

" But Sir Matthew — and Mrs. Lanover — and
Annabel!" I exclaimed; "ought I not at once to

fly to Leghorn "

" Patience and calmness !" interrupted Cosmo :
"there is plenty of time. I will bring a post-
chaise with me to the villa, so that you can speed
off so soon as we have conferred with Signor
Portici. And now hasten you thither !"

AVith these words Cosmo hurried precipitately
from the room ; and by the time I was in the back
yard again, he had scaled the wall and had disap-
peared through the tailor's house. I retreated by
the same route ; and proceeding rapidly, bent my
way through the streets in the direction of the
villa. But though I walked onward with the
utmost celerity, I did not outstrip my thoughts ;
and these were of a varied and conflicting charac-
ter. How many things had I heard within the
last two hours ! Dorchester had insinuated him-
self into the society of Sir Matthew Heseltine and
the ladies at the hotel at Leghorn— he was Lanover's
agent in a deep and devilish plot — he was evi-
dently conducting it with all the consummate skill
of a thorough intriguer — and he was now on his
way back to prosecute the task entrusted to him.
And what was the object of these ramified machi-
nations? Could I doubt that it was to inveigle
Sir Matthew, my beloved Annabel, and her mother,
into the power of the pirates — so that Lanover
might be enabled to dictate those terms into wliich
the contents of his pocket-book had afforded me
such an insight at Pistoja ? But there was one
thing which I had learnt that at the time sent a
thrill of wildest delight through my entire frame,

JOSEPH W^IIMOT ; OR, THE BtEMOIES OP A MAN-SEBVANT.

215

and would have continued to fill me with the same
exuberant joy were it not for the many anxieties I
now experienced. This was the knowledge — the
certain knowledge which I had acquii'cd, that
Xanover was not my uncle ! As the reader is
aware, I had for a long, long time— aye, even from
the very first, doubted that he could bo : but still
it was only doubt— and now I had the conviction
that he was not ! Here was one great mystery
connected with myself cleared up ; and I thanked
heaven for the relief afforded to my mind on thus
discovering that the villanous monster could claim
no kinship with me.

But there were other matters on which I re-
flected as I bent my way with rapid steps towards
Signer Portici's villa. How was it that the Grreek
pirates knew more of me, as they evidently did,
than I could possibly have anticipated ? how was
it they were aware that I was acquainted with
Signer Portici ? how knew they that I had private
and important business in hand, the nature of
which they had vainly sought to fathom ? and how
since the previous day had they learnt something
to forbid their original suspicion that I was a spy
upon theu' actions ? Ah ! a thought struck me !

"Eanaris," I said to myself, "has doubtless
visited Notaras to-day, according to his intention
as expressed last night : and likewise according to
the assurance he gave me, he has said enough in
my favour to convince his fellow-countrymen on
board the Athene that I am not a spy. Yes — and
he may have told them too, as a proof of his as-
sertion, that I have come to Civita Vecchia on
private and secret business on my own account :
but is it possible that he could have been indiscreet
enough to mention my acquaintance with Signer
Portici ? Who else could have made the pirates
aware of that fact ? It is true that no harm has
been done, so far as I can see : but what mischief
might have been accomplished ! I am surprised
at the indiscretion ofKanaris — especially after re-
ceiving a hint from the Judge himself. But still
he may have done it with a good motive, and to
afford a proof of my respectability : for he saw
how anxious I was to set myself right with this
Notaras. And then too, he evidently suspects not
the desperate character of those on board the
Athene : he takes them for smugglers — and he
pities his fellow-countryman Notaras on account of
the injury he has sustained. Ah, if he knew the
danger of venturing on board that ship ! But he
must be informed — I will insist to-night that
Cosmo shall tell him — it is a duty I owe the
noble-minded and generous-hearted young Greek !
What would become of his Leonora if he were
suddenly snatched away from her ? And these
miscreant pirates are capable of detaining him on
board their vessel in the hope of procuring a
splendid ransom! Yes — assuredly Constantino
Eanaris must be warned to-night I It is a duty
which is owing to himself — a duty to Signor
Portici, who has accepted him as bis niece's suitor
— a duty also to the beautiful and affectionate
Leonora !"

And then I reflected that even if Lieutenant
Notaras might have any compunction in laying
violent hands upon the young Greek, on account
of the kind assistance rendered him when he met
his accident, — Captain Durazzo, the veritable
commander of that beautiful but treacherous oi-aft, |

might entertain no such generous feeling. The
generosity of pirates indeed! — who in his senses
would trust to it ?

I moreover reflected, as I pursued my way to
the villa, upon every detail of the entire circum-
stances connected with Lanover's present proceed-
ings. Prom his conversation with Dorchester I
had gathered an additional confirmation of the
Earl of Eccleston's assertion that he had nothing
to do with the humpback's present plans, — although
his lordship's name had certainly been mentioned
in the ruin near Magliano ; and thus the brigands,
who gave me the information at Eome, were so far
correct. Equally correct likewise were they in
their statement that my own name had been men-
tioned by Lanover and Dorchester at the same
time and in the same place : but as Lord Eccle-
ston's had only been alluded to in respect to the
money-transaction, so mine had only been men-
tioned in bitterness by the vindictive Lanover and
his accomplice Dorchester.

And now to take measures to save Annabel — her
mother — and her grandfather likewise — from the
hideous treachery which was being practised
against them ! — Ob, to save them ! — and thereby
would be constituted another claim upon the gene-
rous consideration of the old Baronet when the
eventful day should come, and when I might hope
to be crowned with my reward notwithstanding
whatsoever spiteful revelations in respect to my
youthful indiscretion the vindictive Lanover might
choose to make.

These reflections, as hurried almost as my own
pace, brought me to the gate of the Portici villa.

CHAPTEE CXXIL

THE JUDGE.

I 'WAS at once introduced into the presence of the
Judge and his niece, who were awaiting the an-
nouncement of dinner. Eanaris was not there.
Signor Portici naturally concluded, the moment I
made my appearance, that something important
had taken place ; and I gave him to understand
that such was the fact.

" And Cosmo ?" asked the Judge.

" He will be here presently, to confer with your
Excellency," I replied.

"Then wo have just time to get our dinner,"
said Portici, " before we sit down to hold a
council of war. Besides," he added with a smile,
as he glanced affectionately towards his niece, "I
never talk of business in the presence of ladies.
Not that I mean to pay an ill compliment to my
Leonora, or throw a doubt upon her discretion-
very far from it ! — especially as "

" But my uncle, Mr. Wilmot," said the young
lady, also with a smile, and with a look of grate-
ful love thrown upon her venerable guardian, "is
habitually so reserved and cautious that he would
not mention before one intimate friend any matter
of business regarding another intimate friend."

" Such has been my course through life," ob-
served the Judge; " and I have found it altogether
consistent with a sound and wise policy."

At this moment a domestic entered to announce
that dinner was served in an adjoining room ; and

216

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OB, THE llEMOrRS OP A MAH-SEBVANT.

thither we proceeded. Leonora's manner was at
first somewhat abstracted— her air too, was, me-
thought, the least thing preoccupied ; and ouce or
twice I observed that she regarded her uncle with
an expression of most affectionate sadness. But
she soon rallied, and entered more freely into dis-
course. Her conversation was characterized by
good sense : she could exhibit gaiety without
frivolity and shrewdness without sarcasm. En-
dowed with such mental accomplishments, as well
as with so much personal beauty, she was a veri-
table treasure of a woman, and in every sense
adapted to constitute the happiness of him who
had won her heart. Such was the reflection I
made while sitting next to her at the dinner-
table ; and her demeanour towards me was that of
a frank, ingenuous, well-bred friendliness. Shortly
after the dessert was placed upon the table,
Leonora left the room, no doubt for the purpose
of affording her uncle and myself an opportunity
for that private discourse upon which he would not
enter in her presence. But ere she disappeared
she embraced him affectionately ; and he caressed
her with a paternal fondness.

I now related to his Excellency everything that
had occurred during the last few hours — or rather,
I should say, all that I had overheard at the coffee-
house. The Judge listened with the profoundest
attention ; and when I had concluded, he deli-
berated for some minutes without making any
comment.

" We had better wait till Cosmo comes," he at
length said ; " for whatsoever discusssion we
might hold now, would only have to be repeated
in his presence. It is however tolerably evident
that you must leave this night for Leghorn, in
order to unmask the villain Dorchester — and in-
deed hand him over to the grasp of Tuscan justice
—no matter what decision we may come to in re-
spect to Lanover and these abominable pirates."

Scarcely had the Judge finished his observations,
when a domestic entered and presented him with a
letter — which, it appeared, had just arrived by the
evening mail. He opened it ; and having perused
its contents — which were brief — he said to me, " If
you had not already discovered, by the conversa-
tion that you overheard at the coffee-house, that
Sir Matthew Heseltine, Mrs. Lanover, and Miss
Bentiuck are at Leghorn, I could now have given
you the information. You remember I promised
to write to the principal towns of Italy, to make
certain inquiries ; and here- is one result. I am
informed by a correspondent at Leghorn that Sir
Matthew and the ladies have been staying there
for some weeks. Ah ! by the bye, and I should
add— but you already know it — Lord and Lady
Eccleston were likewise there recently "

"I saw the Earl at my own hotel the day before
yesterday," I interjectingly observed.

" Yes — I know it," said the Judge. " Cosmo
made me acquainted with that circumstance :
otherwise I should have sent to inform you, through
him, of his lordship's presence in the town. I was
likewise informed yesterday morning of Lanover's
arrival: for the circumstance was notified to me
from the Passport-ofiice : but 1 learnt from Cosmo
that accident had already made you aware of Lan-
over's presence in Civita Vecchia."

I .sincerely thanked the Judge for all the trouble
he ha 1 taken on my account, and likewise for hav-

ing recommended me so astute aa assistant as
Cosmo.

"In respect to these pirates," Signer Portici
presently observed, " I most sincerely hope and
trust that their capture is not far distant. I had
sent off couriers to the principal sea-ports to in-
voke the aid of the Austrian frigate Tyrol, wher-
ever she might be found; and now I have learnfc
through you that she was off Ostia when the
pirates last heard of her. The wind is at present
dead against her— but it may change — and then
the run would be short."

" And you have not force enough," I said ia-
quiringly, "to make a bold attack upon the
Athene ?"

" At the first hostile demonstration she would be
off," responded the Judge. "It is now all the
better for our purpose that she should remain here
until to-morrow night : for if in the interval the
Tyrol does not arrive, she at all events will not be
very far off."

After a little more discourse upon these subjects,
I availed myself of a pause to observe, " By the
bye, I have to thank your Excellency for having
permitted Signer Sanaris to call upon me last
evening "

" Ah ! I am truly sorry," interrupted the Judge,
his countenance becoming grave, " that you are
compelled to leave to-night — as I fear indeed that
you must : for yielding to the urgent intercessions
of Kanaris, I have given my assent for the bridal
to be celebrated to-morrow."

"To-morrow!" I ejaculated in astonishment:
for I had seen little in the manner of the old
Judge to indicate that the time was near at hand
when he was to part from his niece.

" Yes— to-morrow," responded Signer Portici, a
real unmistakeable cloud of sadness now for the
first time during this interview coming over his
features : but instantly dispelling it, he smiled
benignantly,— adding, " But the separation between
myself and Leonora is not to take place imme-
diately. It appears that Signer Xanaris this
morning received an urgent letter from his uncle
the Admiral, calling him back to Athens on most
important family business. This summons Kanaris
dares not disobey ; and he will accordingly depart
from Civita Vecchia to-morrow evening. He cal-
culates that his absence will not extend beyond six
weeks ; and in the interval Leonora will remain
with me. The bridal of to-morrow will therefore
prove rather a solemn betrothal sanctified by the
blessing of the priest, than the actual nuptial cere-
mony to be followed by the bearing away of the
bride. You have seen how Leonora sustains her
spirits : — it is through a kind consideration that slie
may not sadden me — although I know that the
affectionate girl looks forward with pain to the
coming of the day when she must be separated
from me : for it is natural to suppose that Xanaris
vdll wish to take Lis bride to his own native laud
and present her to his relatives. Nevertheless, my
dear Mr. Wilmot, the feelings of a young lady on
the eve of that day which is to link her indissolubly
with the object of her heart's choice, have pleasure
blended with their pain— it is natural, I say— it
cannot be otherwise— and thus therefore is it with
Leonora."

" I presume," I said, " that Signer Kanaris could
not endiu-e the idea of this separation from your

J03BPH WILMOT; OB, THE MbMOIliS O? A MAN-SFBVANT

amiable niece, unless previously assured that she
has become linked to liim by indissoluble bonds,
as you have expressed it ?"

" It ig so," answered the Judge. " Not that for
an instant Kanaris is capable of insulting mj
niece by the idea that she is capricious — that she
would forget him when absent— or that she is
capable of encouraging the advances of any other
suitor : but amongst the customs of his own native
country these betrothals, or espousals, previous to
an unforeseen and suddenly necessitated separa-
tion, are, as he informs me, common enough. He
therefore pleaded hard that the same ceremony
might take place here-: he assured me in impas-
sioned language that my assent would alone enable
him to endure the separation with even an ordi-
nary degree of patience ; and I yielded to his en-
treaties. Methought indeed, that if the bridal
were celebrated at once, and Leonora was yet left
to me for a few weeks ere the day of complete
80.

severance should arrive, my own mind would Vr
enabled all the better to tutor itself for thiii
final separation. And perhaps, my dear Mr.
Wilmot," added the Judge, "still more selfish con-
siderations influenced me in giving that assent

No, not selfish! — but considerations, I should

rather say, bearing upon Leonora's welfare. 1
do not mind opening my heart to you. Leonora
has no fortune of her own; and at my death a
very moderate competency would await her.
Eanaris is rich— he belongs to an excellent family
— his position is eminently respectable : of all this
he has given me proofs — the whole tenour of his
conduct has been characterized with candour and
frankness — and such a suitor for my much-loved
niece must not be trifled with, even though there
may seem something whimsical if not foolishly
superstitious in this aversion on his part to set
out on his journey before his hand shall have been
united with that of Leonora. To-morrow's cere-

218

JOSEPH WILMOT; OE, THE MEMOIRS OP A MAX-SERVANT.

monies will be conducted privately, without osten-
tation or display : there will however be a few
friends — apd I regret that circumstances will pre-
vent you from forming one of the number."

I thanked the Judge for his kindness, and ex-
pressed a sincere wish for the happiness of the
young couple. I was by no means astonished, oa
mature reflection, at this proceeding on the part
of Kanaris : his anxiety to have the nuptials
solemnized previous to his departure, was in pre-
cise accordance with the opinion I had formed of
his disposition. The conversations we had held
together during our journey from Rome to Civita
Vecchia, recurred to my mind : nor less did I re-
member that discourse, so tinged with superstitious
apprchen»ion, to which the young Greek had given
way when first introducing me into the neighbour-
hood of the Portici Yilla. I knew him therefore
to be an individual who always mistrusted his own
happiness so long as it was merely prospective, and
who always laboured under a vague dread lest
some unforeseen accident should occur to open a
sudden chasm between himself and the realization
of his hopes. For all these reasons, therefore, I
was not surprised that Kanaris, though without
jealousy in respect to Leonora— but, on the other
hand, yielding her aU that confidence and faith
which belong to sincerest love — should nevertheless
seek to make her indissolubly his own previous to
entering upon this journey to which he was so
abruptly summoned.

" When the day comes for the final separation
between Leonora and myself," continued the old
Judge, " it will be a painful one — it will be a trying
ordeal for me. But my own selfish feelings must
be overruled, for the sake of that dear girl's happi-
ness. And then too I am not without the hope,"
added Signor Portici, " that Constantiae Eanaris,
when having borne his bride to Greece and pre-
sented her to his relatives, may return to Italy and
fix his abode in this neighbourhood. Indeed, he
did drop some promise of the sort : Leonora her-
self is cherishing it — and I am buoying myself
up with the hope that it may be fulfilled."

The domestic again entered the room ; and this
time it was to introduce Cosmo. The Judge bade
him be seated; and he proceeded to account for
his prolonged detention in the town — for it was
now half-past eight o'clock in the evening.

" On separating from you at the coffee-house,"
he began, addressing himself to me, " I proceeded
to the hotel, and soon learnt that no such person
as Mr. Lanover had as yet made any inquiry con-
cerning you : nor indeed had any one asked for
you at all during your absence. I gave a parti-
cular cue to the domestics of the establishment:
I proceeded to pack up all your effects, with a view
to their being placed in the post-chaise which is to
convey you to Leghorn — for I knew that his Ex-
cellency Signor Portici would agree in the pro-
priety of your proceeding thither this night. I
have ordered the equipage to be here at ten o'clock,
so as to allow some little interval for deliberation
amongst ourselves. Having effected all these
arraugements, I strolled out in the neighbourhood
of the hotel; and presently Lanover passed me.
I watched him — and saw that he was lurking
about with the air of one who was totally unde-
cided how to act. I was resolved to keep my eye
• upon him for as long a lime as I could iu pro-

priety spare, considering the different matters I
have in hand ; — and at ,length feeling convinced
that he would end by calling at the hotel, — per-
haps to see you in the hope of gleaning the object
of your presence at Civita Vecchia —perhaps
merely to make some inquiries concerning you,—
I re-entered the establishment, where I affected to
be lounging about in the gateway. Presently Mr
Lanover made his appearance, with the air of one
who had come to a fixed resolve ; and stepping up
to the porter's lodge, he asked for Mr. Wilmot. —
' There is Mr. Wilmot's servant,' said the porter,
pointing to me.— Lanover eyed me with a search-
ing scrutiny : I bowed with the profoundest respect,
and assumed an air perfectly corresponding with
the part that I was enacting. Mr. Lanover asked,
' Is Mr. Wilmot in-doors ?' — I said, ' No, sir, Mr.
Wilmot is dining out ; but he will be here pre-
sently, as we are to leave Civita Vecchia this even-
ing.'— 'Indeed!' he ejaculated: 'and whither, may
I ask, is Mr. Wilmot going ?' — ' The little business,'
I rejoined, ' which brought him to Civita Vec-
chia is settled, and my master returns to Rome to-
night.'— Lanover's countenance at once brightened
up ; and the porter, who had previously received
his cue from me, threw in a word to corroborate
my statement. ' I am very intimately acquainted
with Mr. Wilmot,' continued Lanover ; ' as in-
deed he will tell you. May I hope that the little
business that brought him to this town, has been
settled to his satisfaction?' — 'Completely so, sir,'
was my response : ' it was merely to recover some
money from a runaway scamp who had swindled
him — a fellow countryman of his — and he has suc-
ceeded; but not without a little trouble, and after
the exercise of the utmost caution.' — ' Well,' ex-
claimed Mr. Lanover, ' I am glad to hear that ho
has succeeded : it was merely a friendly visit I
meant to have paid him, and just to inquire
whether he had heard anything of some mutual
friends of ours, the Heseltine family. Perhaps
you can answer the question P' — ' I have not been
very long in Mr. Wilmot's service,' I said, with a
most respectful bow ; ' but I have certainly heard
him mention that name. Ah, I recollect ! Sir
Matthew Heseltine was the gentleman whom he
helped out of some dilemma in the Apennine
mountains a short time back ; and I believe, sir,' I
added, ' that the gentleman and his family have
returned to England. That is all I have heard on
the subject.' — 'Ah, well,' observed Lanover, 'that
is sufficient. I myself am going out to dinner ;
so I shun not be enabled to call again. You can
give my compliments to Mr. Wilmot ; and here is
something for yourself as a recompense for your
civility.' — He gave mo a silver coin, and hurried
off with an expression of countenance unmis-
takably indicating his satisfaction at the intelli-
gence he had received. Lanover is thus lulled into
perfect security ; and the field is open for what"
soever operations we may now, aided by his Ex-
cellency's wisdom, decide upon."

" It is now," said the Judge " by no meana diffi-
cult to decide upon a particular course of action.
Your skill, foresight, and ingenuity, Cosmo, have
placed matters in the most suitable train for a
successful issue. In the first place, my dear Mr.
Wilmot, it is settled that you depart presently
for Leghorn, — where you will fully expose the
treachery of the villain Dorchester, and hand hiai

JOSEPH WIIiMOT; OE, THE MEMOIES OP A MAN-SERVANT.

219

over to the Tuscan authorities as one of the accom-
plices of Marco Uberti's recently formidable band."
At this moment there was a loud ring at the
front door ; and on the summons being answered
by the servant, the Judge and myself both recog-
nised the footsteps of Constantino Kanaris as they
entered the hall.

" He will go up to the drawing-room to my
niece," observed Signor Portici.

" Ah ! and I must not forget," I exclaimed,
" that I have presently a suggestion to make in
reference to Signor Kanaris. But pray proceed,
your Excellency, in defining the plans which are
now to be adopted."

" In the first place, then," continued Signor
Portici, " it is settled that you, Mr. Wilmot, set
off in the post-chaise presently for Leghorn. In
the second place, Lanover being lulled into com-
plete security, it will be advisable to leave him in
this comfortable state of mind until to-morrow
evening. We will then take care that he shall be
arrested just as he is stepping into the schooner's
boat ; and the sailors in that boat, as well as the
officer who may be in command, shall likewise be
arrested, By this proceeding one object will be
certainly gained — and another may possibly bo ac-
complished. The object to be thus gained," added
the Judge, " will be that of keeping the schooner
for at least another twenty-four hours in the port
of Civita Vecchia — during which interval the
Austrian frigate will either arrive, or else be very
near. The object which we may hope to gaiu is
that by the capture of a subordinate gfficer and
some of the sailors of the Greek pirate, we may
induce at least one amongst them by the promise
of a free pardon and a reward, to furnish such in-
iovmation as may lead to the arrest of CaptaLu
Durazzo, the leader of the pirate horde. Such are
m«y views : what is your opinion, Cosmo ?"

" I had in my own mind sketched the very self-
same line of policy," was the police-spy's response.
" There is no more harm that Lanover can now do
by being left at large until to-morrow night, inas-
much as Mr. Wilmot will proceed to Leghorn to
put Sir Matthew Heseltine upon his guard, under
whatsoever circumstances may subsequently tran-
spire. On the other hand, if Lanover were arrested
at once, the pirates would hear of it — they would
see that the game was all up — they would at once
sheer off — and thus precipitating their departure,
they might possibly elude capture by the Austrian
frigate. And then, too, be it recollected that Cap-
tain Durazzo has decided upon embarking to-
morrow night at twelve o'clock. If he be not
already in the town under some disguise, he must
of necessity arrive at Civita Vecchia in the course
of to-morrow j and it will indeed be of the utmost
importance to ensure his capture. Therefore I
fully coincide with your Excellency's opinions."

" And you, Mr. Wilmot ?" said the Judge, turn-
ing towards me.

"While expressing my thanks," I answered,
"for the flattering compliment your Excellency
pays me in asking my opinion, I can most con-
scientiously declare that your views seem based on
the soundest policy."

" And now," said Signor Portici, " in respect to
the suggestion which, as you intimated you had to
offer ?"

" Ah 1 relative to Signor Kanaris," I exclaimed.

"Your Excellency — and you likewise, Cosmo— are
acquainted with the circumstance which first threw
Signor Kanaris and myself in the way of the man
Notaras. Kanaris, with the kindest motives of
sympathy, has visited Notaras at his tavern— and
I havo no doubt on board his ship likewise. Now,
although Signor Kanaris is about to leave Civita
Vecchia, he may be contemplating fresh acts of
kindness towards Notaras: he might even think it
his duty as his fellow-countryman to snatch half-
an-hour early to-morrow morning to make a fare-
well call on board the Athene ; and I hold it to be
our duty to warn him against such a proceeding,
and to make him acquainted with the true cha-
racter of the fellow Notaras."

" Yes," observed the Judge, "the same idea had
also struck me : but I considered that tho secret
was not altogether my own :" — and he looked at
Cosmo.

" There cannot be the slightest objection," said
the individual thus significantly appealed to, " to
the communication of the secret to Signor Kanaris.
I just now laarnt from your Excellency's servant
that the espousals are to take place to-morrow ;
and connected as Signor Kanaris will therefore be
with you — introduced as it were into the very
bosom of your family — linked to you and your's by
indissoluble ties— it will indeed bo proper and be-
coming to guard him from again incui-ring a
serious risk by venturing on board that pirate
vessel."

"It is agreed, therefore," said the Judge, "that
the intimation shall be given to Constantino. Tlie
suggestion was your's, Mr. Wilmot : it is now for
you to carry it out. Cosmo and I have some little
arrangements to settle in respect to the proceed-
ings of to-morrow evening:— do you ascend to the
drawing-room, and tell Kanaris what you think
proper. You can at the same time take leave of
him and my niece, as the hour approaches for tho
arrival of the post-chaise."

In obedience to the Judge's wishes, I issued
from the dining-parlour and ascended to tho
drawing-room, where I found Constantino and
Leonora seated together. There was the modest
blush of the heart's happiness upon the maiden's
countenance: the animation of a lover's hope was
on the features of Kanaris. The latter at once
rose on my entrapce, and greeted me with even
more than his wonted cordiality, as if already ex-
pressing his warm gratitude for the congratulatioaa
which he knew full well I should offer him.
Leonora, thinking that I might have sometliing
private to say — or perhaps being filled with a
maidenly confusion, as she must have seen that by
this time I was acquainted with the approaching
nuptials — glided from the room.

" My dear Kanaris," I said, " I felicitate you
with all the most friendly warmth on tbfe happiness
which awaits you !"

" I knew that you would be rejoiced — as I am !"
responded the young Greek, returning the fervid
pressure of my hand : and though the animation
of the heart's happiness appeared still to flash
from his eyes, yet I was pained and even startled
by hearing those seemingly rapturous words of,hi3
instantaneously followed by a sigh.

"You surely, my dear Kanaris, do not mistrust
your happiness now ?" — and I spoke iii the gentlest
accents of remonstrance.

220

JOSEl'H WIIMOT ; OH, THE JIEMOIES 0? A MAN-SEEVANT.

"No, no!" exclaimed the young Greek: but as
he at the same moment averted his countenance, I
caught upon it an expression so strange and appa-
rently so full of a real anguish, that I was now both
ghocked and afflicted.

" I am come to bid you farewell," I said : " but

before I leave "

"What !" he ejaculated, suddenly turning again
towards me : " you are going to quit Civita
Vecehia ?"

« Yes— this very night. I have business else-
where "

"But surely Signor Portici has invited you "

"Yes — to be present to-morrow at a ceremony,"
I answered, " which I hope and trust will be a
happy one ! But this business on which I am bent,
admits of no delay — or else, rest assured, my dear
Kanai-is, that I should be only too happy in
accepting the Judge's invitation. Oh ! why,
my friend, torture yourself with these gloomy
forebodings which nothing seems to justify? — why
afflict your mind with apprehensions so completely
visionary ?"

" You think it unmanly on my part ?" said
Kanarie, his countenance suddenly glowing and
his eyes flashing fire — yet not, methought, in
anger against myself, but in the quick assertion of
that masculine dignity and fortitude which pro-
perly became him. " Best assured, my friend,"
he added, " that if it were a question of displaying
that courage which circumstances of difficulty or
danger render necessary, Constantino Kanaris
never would be found wanting! But I confess
that in respect to this love of mine I sometimes
experience the weakness of a child— aye, more
than a woman's weakness! But enough of this!
You cannot understand me!— And now, AVilmot,"
he quickly added, " let us talk of yourself. May
I hope that nothing unpleasant has transpired to
precipitate your departure from Civita Vecehia ?"
" My hurried departure," I responded, " is con-
nected with the business that originally brought
me hither. But I have a revelation to make to
you. It is my duty to put you on your guard
how you exhibit too much kindness in a cer-
tain quarter "

"What mean you?" asked the young Greek,
with an air of astonishment.

" You have exhibited much generous sympathy
towards your fellow-countryman Is'otaras," I con-
tinued : " but he is in every way unworthy

thereof unless, indeed, even the vilest of

human beings, when experiencing a serious in-
jury, deserves some kind consideration. However,
in a word, the truth is that Notaras is a detestable
pirate !"

"A pirate?" ejaculated Kanaris, whose coun-
tenance became suddenly crimson.

" Ah ! y^u may well express that deep indigna-
tion !" I cried : " for Notaras is assuredly a pirate
— and that vessel to which he belongs is none
other than the celebrated corsair which for the
last two years has spread dismay through the
Levant."

" The villain ! If I had known it," exclaimed
Constantino — " if only the barest suspicion had

been excited "

" I knew you would be thus indignant," I said.
" But fortunately measures are in progress to in-
sure the capture of the vessel Ah ! and I for-

got to mention that Xotaraa is not its commander
— the name of its veritable captain is Durazzo —
and at midnight to-morrow he will doubtless be in
the hands of justice."

" You astonish me !" exclaimed Kanaris.
" Ah ! what discredit do these lawless men bring
upon the nation to which I belong! But' how
know you all this ?"

" To tell you the real truth, Kanaris," I an-
swered, " I was acquainted with the character of
that schooner when you visited me last night.
But the secret was not then mine own : it is how-
ever through my suggestion that Signor Portici,
and an active agent from Ostia who is now with
him, agreed that you should be warned of the true
character of the Athene and the desperadoes on
board."

" By heaven, I have run some risk, then," ejacu-
lated Constantine, " in visiting that vessel ! I was
there this morning ; and I assured the man No-
taras that you bad no sinister intention iu going
on board his ship."

"' Thanks for that vindication of my character
against the charge of being a spy! "It is now a
duty which I owe to you as well as to myself, to
declare that you were not deceived by the assur-
ances I gave you last night — nor have you spoken
untruthfully in vindicating me to the man Notaras.
In one word, the individual who personated my
valet, is a member of the secret police of Ostia :
and he made use of me at the time to get admis-
sicta to the Athene. He was attached to my ser-
vice on ^account of the special business which
brought me to Civita Vecehia, and which now
takes me to Leghorn."

" Ah ! you are going to Leghorn ?" sai 1 Kanaris :
" I was in hopes that your route might possibly be
the same as mine will be to-morrow, and that jou

would be induced to delay your departure -"

" It is impossible !" I ejaculated. " I have this
day discovered that the object which originally
brought me to Civita Vecehia, is strangely and
threateningly blended with the business which has
led the pirate vessel to this coast : and I go to
Leghorn to thwart the detestable machinations
that are now in progress."

" Can I be of any assistance to you, my dear
Wilmot ?" inquired Kanaris, warmly grasping my
hand. "If so, command me! The friendship I
have proffered you, existed not in words which cool
the instant they are thrown forth to the air."

" I know it — I know it," I said : " but there is
nothing you can do for me. Thanks to the inge-
nuity of Cosmo — the police-agent of whom I have
spoken — my course is clear enough now. As for
the pirates, the Austrian frigate Tyrol has been
sent for ; and should the wind change in the kast
degree favourably, she will bo off the coast to-
morrow. As for Captain Durazzo, it is positively
ascertained that he is to embark to-morrow night :
he will therefore be in Civita Vecehia to-morrow —
even if he be not already— and the Judge is now
arranging plans with Cosmo to ensure his cap-
ture."

The sounds of an approaching equipage at this
instant reached our ears ; and I said, " This is the
post-chaise that is to take me to Leghorn. Faro-

well, Kanaris "

" Nay, my dear friend," he interrupted me, "
will at least see vou safe off."

JOSEPH WILMOT; OK, THE ItFMOlTtS OF A MAK-SEKVAWT.

221

Leonora now returned to the room ; and she
wns amazed to bear that I was on the point of
quitting Civita Vecchia ; but there was no time
for explanations. I bade her farewell — my looks
convejing those congratulations and sincere wishes
for her happiness which a sense of delicacj pre-
vented me from giving formal utterance to in
words; and I descended to the dining-room', ac-
companied by Kanaris. At the same instant that
the post-chaise drew up at the gate, a mounted
courier galloped up to the front door, and deli-
vered to the servant a letter with the intimation
that it was a private document for Signor Portici.
The footman bore it into the dining-room, which I
and Kanaris also entered. The Judge nodded
with affectionate familiarity to the accepted
suitor of bis niece, and proceeded to open the
letter.

"This is most important." he said, when he had
perused its contents. "It is from the captain of
the Tyrol. The Austrian commander informs me
that he will lose no time in beating up to Civita
Vecchia so soon as the wind permits ; and he fur-
ther states that he has despatched one of his ofE-
cers by land to make me an important communi-
cation. He has by some means become possessed
of an exact personal description of Captain
Durazzo, the veritable commander of the pirate-
ship ; and he has deemed it expedient to send one
of his own officers to confer with me on the best
means of effecting the capture of Durazzo in the
town, so that his crew being left without the benefit
of his presence, may be all the more disconcerted
and surrender without resistance to the Austrian
flag. The officer may be expected to-morrow
morning early ; and be will bear with him the
promised description of Durazzo. Such is the
purport of the despatch I have just received."

" It is indeed of the first importance," said
Cosmo— an observation which was echoed both by
myself and Kanaris.

" And now that I have heard all these good
tidings," I said, " I will take my departure. To
your Excellency," I continued, " I feel all the gra-
titude that is due for the kind feelings you have
demonstrated on my behalf. I have already de-
clared to the amiable Senora how immense is the
obligation I experience towards your Excellency,
and how infinite will be my delight to pay my
respects at the Portici Villa when all these com-
plications shall have ended. You, Cosmo," I v;ent
on to say, addressing myself to the police-agent,
" shall hear from me in a substantial manner the
instant I arrive at Leghorn and have leisure to
write. Meanwhile accept my sincerest thanks for
all that you have done ; and may the speedy
capture of the Greek pirate afford you a much
nobler recompense than I shall possibly be enabled

to offer. My dear Kanaris, to you now "

But I stopped short when turning round to ad-
dress myself to the young Greek : for he had left
the room.

" He has only this moment stepped out," said
Signor Portici ; " and doubtless awaits you on the
threshold."

I shook hands with the worthy Judge, and like-
wise with Cosmo, who had been of such material
assistance to me. I then left the apartment, and
traversing the hall, reached the front door —
w hence, by means of the hall-lamp, I perceived

Kanaris standing close to the equipage that was to
bear me away.

" I have been examining the horse-flesli," ho
observed, as I at once joined him ; "and I think
you have every chance of completing the first
stage with rapidity — for these animals, as far as I
can judge by the chaise-lamps, appear of a better
sort than those which we generally find on Italian
roads."

"The sooner I arrive at Leghorn, the better," I
answered. " And now farewell, my dear Kanaris :"
—and then I added in a lower tone, "And when
next we meet, I hope to receive from your lips the
assurance that you are supremely happy !"

"A thousand thanks, my dear Wilmot!" re-
joined the young Greek in accents that expressed
the warmest sincerity. " And may you fully suc-
ceed in the enterprise which takes you to Leg-
horn !"

Our hands were pressed — I leapt into the chaise
— the door was closed — the postilion cracked his
whip— and away went the equipage from the front
of the Portici Villa,

CHAPTER CXXIII.

A PITCHY DAEK NIOHT.

The town of Leghorn — or Livorno, as it is pro-
perly denominated — belongs to the Tuscan States;
and its distance, as the crow flies, is about one
hundred and thirty miles north of Civita Vecchia :
but as the road follows the sinuosities of the coast,
another fifteen miles might safely be added to that
number in order to make up the length of the
journey which lay before me. Travelling with
four horses, the road being good, and my well-
filled purse enabling me to give handsome gra-
tuities to the postilion, I might reckon on proceed-
ing at the rate of about ten miles an hour : so that
in fourteen hours I hoped to find myself within
the precincts of Leghorn. Dorchester had the
start of me by four or five hours: but that was of
little consequence, considering that the pirate-ship
was not to set sail until the middle of the following
night; and thus, — even putting out of the ques-
tion the hope and chance of its capture in the in-
terval by the Austrian frigate, or as the result of
the other plans which Signor Portici had in view,
— I must arrive in Leghorn long before the ap-
pearance of that schooner off the Tuscan coast.
Besides, if Dorchester were not travelling with
four horses, I should most probably overtake and
pass him ; and I made up my mind that the very
instant I caught sight of the hypocritical scoundrel
within the limits of" Tuscany, I would hand him
over to the care of the authorities. He might
assume whatsoever disguise he thought fit : but I
felt persuaded that guided by past experience, I
should penetrate it.

Such were the reflections which were passing
through my mind during the first few minutes
after the equipage had driven away from Signor
Portici's villa, — when all of a sudden I felt that
the chaise was whirled out of its equilibrium — it
went all on one side as if the wheels on the other
side had run up a bank — and at the very same in-
stant it occurred to me that a loud shrill peculiar

222

JOBM'H WILMOT; OR, THE MEMOIRS OP A MAN-SERVANT.

whistle rang through the air. But in the twinkling
of an eipe the chaise was upset — and I was stunned
with the violence of the shock.

As I slowly came back to consciousness, it ap-
peared to me as if I were altogether in a dream,
both as to what had just occurred and to what was
now taking place. The night was as dark as
pitch ; and I was being borne along by three men
— two supporting the upper part of my body, and
one my feet. We were descending some slope ;
and the saline freshness of the wind, which was
blowing strong, appeared to indicate that we were
drawing near to the sea. I did not immediately
give utterance to a word, even when I felt that
the faculty of speech had completely returned to
me along witli my other senses : for I still fancied
that I must be in the midst of a dream. But
when I felt an aching pain in my head — the effect
of the concussion produced by the upsetting of
the vehicle — the conviction that that part of the
proceedings was at least a reality, led to a similar
impression as to the transactions now in progress.
Yes — I was assuredly being borne onward by these
men ; and two or three others were walking by
our side, all in profoundest silence — a silence that
seemed as ominous as the pitchy darkness of the
night itself. An idea struck me : — I had doubtless
been picked up either as one killed by the acci-
dent or else as in a most dangerous condition?

Mustering all the little Italian I could command,
I spoke a few words, expressive of my thanks for
the attention which I fancied myself to be receiv-
ing : but no syllable was vouchsafed in reply. A
cold unknown terror seized upon me; and with a
sudden effort I disengaged my legs from the in-
dividual who was bearing them — so that I regained
my feet. Still not a word was spoken by these
men : but quick as thought a cord was whipped
over me— it was drawn tight ere I could make a
single effort further on my own behalf— my arms
were pinioned to my sides — and I was urged on-
ward by those who thus had me in their custody.

Such was the dismayed terror which, as I
frankly admit, I experienced — in the power of
these unknown persons — being borne I knew not
whither, through the deep darkness of the night
— and with a crushing sense of all the frightful
mischief that would ensue to my beloved Annabel
and her relatives at Leghorn if I were detained a
prisoner for even a few hours — 1 could not imme-
diately give utterance to another word : my lips
appeared to be sealed as if with a paralysis of the
faculty of speeth. Nevertheless, I strained my
eyes, to endeavour, if possible, to discern the per-
sonal appearance of the individuals in whose cus-
tody I was: but so black was the night that I
could only see them as shapes darker than the
darkness. Indeed it was such a night of more
than Egyptian gloom that the eye could not have
discerned a hand held up twenty inches from the
face.

I spoke again— first in Italian— then in French
— and then, in the increasing agony of my terror,
I had recourse to English — conjuring these men
to tell me who they were, what they wanted with
me — how I had injured them — and whether it were
not all some fearful luistuke on their pai't? But
still not a word was spoken — still all was profound
silence.

Then a horrible suspicion flashed to my mind ;

and I made one desperate and tremendous effort to
release myself from my captors, so that I might
take to my legs, and trusting to my swiftness, hope
to escape through the pitchy obscurity which pro-
vailed. But they were hands of iron which
clutched me— which held me as if in a vice — and
which even tightened their grasp upon me at the
very moment as if from an instinctive knowledge
of the attempt I was about to make. I saw that
it was useless ; and as one of the individuals who
had his strong sinewy gripe fixed upon me, made
a movement as if drawing something from his
side, there was just a sufficiency of a pale yet
scarcely perceptible gleaming to make me aware
that it was a weapon he had taken from its
sheath — no doubt to cut me down if, perchanc^
by any sudden effort I should succeed in releasing
myself. More and more did I strain my eyes to
contemplate these men, and either confirm or dis-
abuse myself of the frightful suspicion that had
arisen in my mind : but everything was wrapped
in a gloom so deep that it appeared as if night's
sable pall, instead of remaining suspended over-
head, had sunk down t'O cover all things on earth
itself.

Thus a few more minutes passed, during which I
was a prey to such fearful anxieties — such mental
excruciations, on account of others who were dear
to me, and not on account of myself, — that I could
not collect my thoughts for any settled and con-
tinuous deliberation. At length the sound of the
waves began moaning low and hollow within hear-
ing ; and in a few minutes more their noise was
completely audible above the continuous gushing
of the wind. I had observed from Signor Portici's
balcony on the first day I called at his villa, that
the great northern road to Leghorn passed along
a range of heights running parallel with the sea-
coast, and down to the shore of which there was a
gradual elope such as that which, as I felt, wo
were now descending. All things considered, there-
fore, it was obvious we were advancing towards
the sea; and my horrible suspicion was all but
confirmed. In a few minutes more the margin of
the waters was reached -. I was placed in a boat —
and the cord which had hitherto confined my
arms only, was now likewise fastened round my
lower limbs — so that even the desperate alterna-
tive of a sudden plunge into the sea was thu3
guarded against.

Not a syllable was spoken by the men in whose
power I was. There were two in the boat when
we reached it; and one of those who had brought
me thither, took his seat at the helm, — he being
evidently the officer in command. As he stepped
past me, an ample cloak in which he was muffled,
brushed against my form. Without a single word
of command from him, the boat put off: the oars
scarcely raised the faintest sound — they were no
doubt muffled. The boat shot away from the
land ; and as complete a darkness hung over the
sea, as upon that land which we had just left.

Nevertheless there is scarcely any gloom so pro-
found that the eye does not sooner or later get
more or less accustomed to it ; and thus I gradually
— but only very gradually — found the shapes of
the men getting more distinct, and standing out as
it were in a darker relief against the darkness
tself. Methought I could recognise certain dresses
that were not altogether unfamiliar to me : but

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OR, THE UEMOmS OF A MAN-SEEVANT.

223

when I strained my ejea still more, I could not I order to his men ; and I recognised the voice of

establish a conviction on the point. I savr their
tountenances— but was equally unable to form a
positive conclusion with regard to their aspect.
Still the suspicion already entertained was
Btreuithening more and more in my miad.

The boat appeared to be proceeding straight
away from the shore for a considerable distauce ;
and gradually the lights of Civita Vecchia became
apparent, like stars struggling into a misty and
feeble existence through a length of gloom. I
now became aware of some objects at the bottom
of the boat close by my feet : I touched them with
those feet — and found that they were my boxes,
which Cosmo had packed at the hotel and con-
signed to the vehicle. I had not hitherto be-
stowed upon them a single thought ; and the
noiselcssnesa with which they had been put into
the boat, was in perfect keeping with the whole
proceedings of those who constituted its myste-
rious but terribly suspicious crew. Now I began
to perceive — judging by the lights of Civita
Vecchia — that the boat was making a curve ; and
I felt tolerab^ well essured it was turning in
towards the harbour, after having by a circuit
given a wide berth to the upper pier. Oh ! was it
indeed possible that my destiaatiou was what my
terrors suggested it to be ?

I looked back towards the inJividual who was
seated behind me at the helm, and who guided the
movements of this boat with its silent crew. All
I could perceive was the dark muffled form, with
just the least appearance of some mistily pale hue
where his countenance might be, and a similar in-
dication to mark the place of his hand upon the
tiller. I looked again in the direction of the town :
the lights were growing more and more distinct —
and those at the heads af the two piers now stood
out stronger, bolder, brighter than the rest. The
course of the boat was evidently towards some
point between the piers :— alasl I could not doubt
as to what its destination was !

More and more did my eyes get accustomed to
the darkness; and just as I discerned sufficient of
the costume of the rowers in the boat to coalirm
all my worst suspicions, I likewise caught a
glimpse of two tall spars, slightly inclining, and
shooting up into the air. Then, as the boat drew
nearer still, the light at the head of the lower pier
brought out into a certain degree of relief the lon^',
low, dark hull f»om which those masts were up-
reared taperingly and raklngly; Thou;^h all this
was nothing more than I had anticipated, — yet
when once the conviction became established iu
my mind that it was really io, I was so overcome
with dismay that I couldf not give utterance to
a syllable: I could not put forth a prayer for
mercy at the hands of those who had me in their
power — even if the prayer itself would have proved
of the slightest avail ! On went the boat ; and
gradually, though dimly, all the web-lik' tracery
of the ringing of the schooner stood out in deli-
cate relief against the horizon formed by the town,
the countless lights of which diminished the dark-
ness in that quarter. A few minutes more, and
the boat touched the black hull of the pirate-
vessel.

"Now for the first time the officer who sate in
the stern, broke the long and almost fearful silence
which had hitherto prevailed : he issued some

the second lieutenant of the Athene, — the same
who had shown me over the vessel— the same
whom I had heard in conversation with Lanover
at the coffee-house. A couple of the sailors
hastened to unbind the cord from my limbs ; and
the officer, addressing me in French, said in a
cold voice, " The treatment you will experience,
Mr. "VVilmot, depends entirely on your own be-
haviour. I need not tell you how useless would
any attempt at resistance be ; and therefore if you
are wise, you will not mako such an endeavour."

" But tell me," I exclaimed, " for what pur-
pose "

" Silence !" he ejaculated in accents of sternest
command. "I obey the mandates of a superior.
Ascend the ship's side, sir."

I did as I was ordered : of what avail would
remonstrance be ? — and as for resistance, it was
obviously altogether out of the question. My foet
touched the deck : all was dark there, save and
except where the skylight of one of the principal
cabins sent forth a feeble glimmering through its
thick ground-glass panes. I could however dis-
cern several of the sailors standing about near the
gangway : but not a single syllable was spoken ;
and whatever feeling my presence as a captive
might have occasioned, there was no outward de-
monstration thereof.

" Follow me, sir," said the second lieutenant,
who was close at my heels as I stepped upon the
deck.

He led me towards the after-cabins : we de-
scended the staircase with the polished brass hand-
rails; and we entered that first cabin which I have
described en a former occasion. No one was in the
cabin itself: but the door of one of the adjoining
state-rooms— or smaller sleeping-cabins, as I may
term them— stood open; and it was thence ema-
nated the light which glimmered through the glass
overhead. And from that same state-room came
the sound of a voice, evidently asking some ques-
tion : it was the voice of Nttaras. The second
lieutenant, having hastily thrown off his cloak, now
dotfed a sort of slouching hat that he wore on the
present occasion ; and advancing with a respectful
air into the state-room, he spoke a few words —
which I could not however comprehend, as ho
and his superior were adopting their own native
tongue. An ejaculation from the lips of Notaras
unmistakably indicated either astonishment or joy
— it might be both — at the intelligence of my
capture; and then he added something in the
language of command. The second lieutenant re-
joined me ; and lighting a taper which stood in a
silver caudiestict, he opened the door of another
state-room exactly ^cing that where Notaras lay.
Motioning me to enter, the officer placed the
candle upon a little round table formed of a
beautiful rosewood ; and then he addressed me in
tho following maimer : —

" This is your berth ; and you are on no account
to leave it without permission. It may be as well
to inform you that a sentinel with a drawn cutlass
will be stationed on the deck close by the head of
the staircase ; and his orders arc to cut down any
one who may ascend that staircase without proper
authority. The men on board this vessel, Mr. Wil-
mot, never hesitate to obey the commands of their
superiors. I have already intimated that the

224.

JOSKPII WILMOT; OR, THE MKMOIES OF A MAN-SETIVANT.

Ireattnent you will experience, depends upon your
own conduct : there is no desire on. our part to use
unnecessary harshness : — see that you do not pro-
voke it. As for your life But I will not insult

myself, nor those whom I serve, nor those whom I
command, by giving you any assurance on that
point ! Your repasts will be regularly served up ;
and your berth is not without the means of ena-
bling you to while away the time."

Having thus spoken, the lieutenant bowed
slightly and distantly, and withdrew, — closing the
door upon me. He did not however secure it on
the outside; of what avail, indeed, would such a
precaution have been where escape was in every
way 80 impossible ? In a few moments the door
opened again, and one of the sailors made his
appearance, bringing my boxes, — which having
deposited in the most convenient corner of the little
state-room, he retired without uttering a word.

The state-room was a complete square, being about
sis feet either way : and it was beautifully fitted up.
A luxuriously arranged ottoman, with a velvet
coverlid, served as a sofa by day and as a bed by
night. There was the little table in the middle of
the cabin ; and in one corner a small but elegantly
carved piece of rosewood furniture had the appear-
ance of a stand for a vase filled with flowers : but
when the lid was raised, it presented a basin, ewer,
and all the conveniences for ablutions. A looking,
glass was let into the bulk-head, or partition sepa-
ratiug the state-room from the adjoining one. A
shelf contained several books in the French,
Italian, and Greek languages; and a violin was
suspended to a peg in one corner. The door had
its upper half fitted with ground-glass panes, so
that in the day-time it admitted quite a sufficiency
of light from the larger cabin without being trans-
parent to bo seen through from either side. There
was a round hole, or opening in the side of the
vessel, just beneath the deck above, and which ad-
mitted the fresh air as well as some additional
light; and this hole could bo closed with a massive
water-tight lid when circumstances rendered it ne-
cessary or inclination prompted. The painting,
the gilding, and the carving of the cabin were all
of the most finished description : in a word, if the
vessel were a pleasure yacht, and if I had visited
it with my own free-will, in the companionship of
friends, I felt that I could have made myself per-
fectly comfortable in this well appointed and beau-
tiful little berth.

I have at once given a description of the state-
room in its completeness, before continuing my
narrative— although, as the reader may easily
imagine, it was not all in a moment that I thus
discovered the minuter details of its fittings and
arrangements. Immediately after the seaman who
brought my boxes had quitted the cabin, I be-
thought me to feel about my person to ascertain if
it had been rifled during the interval that I re-
mained in a state of unconsciousness after the up-
setting of the chaise. No — nothing had been
taken from me : my watch, my purse, my pocket-
book containing my circular letter of credit and
mj reserve of bank-notes, — all were safe. I sate
down upon the ottoman to ruminate on my condi-
tion, on the circumstances attending my capture,
and on all the consequences to which it was likely
to lead. I need scarcely state that my feelings
were painful enough — nay, more than painful,

they were poignantly harrowing. But I must
repeat it was not on my own account that I was
thus mentally tortured. I could not suppose my
life to be in danger : the motives of my capture
and detention were too obvious to excite any more
serious apprehension than that of a term of in-
carceration on board the ship until Lanover's atro-
cious schemes should have been fully carried out.
Besides, I had overheard the very oflicer who had
brought me thither indignantly repudiate, when
in discourse with Lanover, the notion of com-
mitting murder in cold blood ; and he had ere now
half repeated, or at least intimated precisely the
same thing to myself. For my life therefore I
had no fear : but, alas ! what fatal consequences
might arise from the loss of my liberty ! No
warning voice would now whisper in the ear of
Sir Matthew Heseltine ; and I shuddered as I
contemplated the idea of himself, his daughter, and
the beauteous Annabel falling into the bands of
these desperate corsairs.

That Lanover had by some means or another
learnt that Cosmo's tale was false, and that in-
stead of being bound for Eome I was about to
proceed to Leghorn, — appeared to be beyond all
doubt ; and I therefore concluded that taking his
measures promptly, he had succeeded, during my
fatal delay at the Portici Villa, in inducing the
pirates to lay an ambush for me. At first L
thought that accident had singularly served them
in causing the upsetting of the post-chaise : but
when I suddenly recollected the shrill peculiar
whistle given by the postilion, it instantaneously
struck me that he was an accomplice in the de-
sign against my liberty. The overturning of the
chaise was therefore intentional and not an acci-
dent: the man might have done it in order to
give a colour to the tale which he would have to
tell when returning into Civita Vecchia. Yes —
the longer I thought of all this, and the more
I reflected upon the circumstances of the seeming
accident — the more I was convinced that it was no
accident at all, but the result of the iniquitous
postilion's complicity.

And now all Cosmo's fine schemes on my behalf
were scattered to the winds ! Would his own de-
signs in respect to the pirate-vessel be equally
frustrated? would it escape the Austrian frigate?
would the measures to be adopted on the ensuing
night, for the arrest of Lanover and the capture
of Durazzo, equally fail ? I confess that I enter-
tained the most serious apprehensions on these
heads : I had no longer as much confidence in the
manoeuvring capacities of Cosmo as I was com-
pelled to have in the shrewdness and keen saga-
city of Lanover and the pirates to outwit him.
But still there was one hope: the lieutenant of the
Austrian frigate Tyrol was to be at Civita Vecchia
early in the morning — he would furnish Signer
Portici with an exact personal description of Cap-
tain Durazzo— this individual would be arrested,
if already iu the town, or else the instant he set
foot in it ; and his capture might possibly — indeed
most probably lead to important results. I
pictured to myself that in order to save his life
from the scaffold, or from the yard-arm of the
Tyrol, he might surrender up the Athene : in
whicli case a fatal bbw would be in an instant
dealt at Lanover's schemes ia respect to Sir ilat-
thevr Heseltine.

JOSEPH WILMOX; Olt, THB MfMOlUS OF A MAN- SEETA?f T.

Tins hope, gradually dawning in upon my mind
ilirouj^h the dark clouds which surrounded it,
raised uny spirits somewhat ; and indeed I was in
that condition when any hope, even the slightest,
is clutched at— just as drowning men grasp with
desperate greediness at a straw. I endeavoured
to rivet my ideas upon it ; and certainly the longer
I contemplated that hope, the more palpable did it
become — the more favourable did its aspect
grow.

Presently the door opened : and a Greek youth,
of exceeding personal beauty— habited in a garb
fantastically picturesque, but yet perfectly con-
sistent with good taste and even elegance— made
his appearance with a massive silver salver covered
with refreshments. There were two or three sorts
of wine— a savoury-looking pie — cakes and confec-
81.

tionary — silver forks and spoons — an embroidered
napkin— and beautiful cut glasses. The youth,
whose age could not exceed sixteen, pointed to a
silver bell which was likewise upon the tray, and
gave me to understand that he would ever be in
readiness to attend its summons. He then with-
drew. I partook of some slight refection— for I
was well nigh worn out in mind and body ; and it
was merely that one hope to which I have alluded
that sustained me.

My repast being ended, I rang the bell : the
youthful page quickly appeared — and as I pointed
significantly to the tray, he removed it. Then,
still buoying myself as much as I possibly could
with the one hope, I sought the luxurious couch;
and sleep, wooed by exhaustion, soon fell upon
my eyes.

226

JOS-EPH -WILMOT; OE, THE MEMOrRS OF A MAV-SEBTAKX.

CHAPIER CXXrV.

THE ATHENE.

I ZMEW not how long I bad slept, when I was

was spread. Almost immediately afterwards the
second licutenaut entered my cabin ; and saluting
me with sufficient respect, but still with the same
cold distant reserve as on the preceding night, he
intimated that if the refreshments served up were
not to my fancy, and if I were habituated to

suddenly awakened by the harsh jarring sounds of j others, they should at once be supplied. The veriest
a voice chuckling in the large cabin adjoining. : epicure in the universe could not possibly have
At first methought that it was merely the pro- quarrelled with the materials for breakfast which
longed idea of something which had naturally | were spread upon that tray ; and I expressed my-
enough been haunting me in my dreams : but that self to a similar effect. The officer and the page

hideous chuckling continued — there was no longer
any doubt or mistake as to its reality— and I
therefore knew that Lanover himself was now on
board. I heard the second lieutenant say some-
thing to him, preceded by a hasty and impatient
" hush !" — then the door of an adjoining state-
room opened ; and I caught Lanover's voice, say-
ing, " Grood night !"

retired ; and soon afterwards I heard Mr. Lanover
issue forth from the adjoining state-room. It was
about eight o'clock when I again rang the bell as
a summons for the page to clear away the breakfast-
things ; and so soon as he had done this, the second
lieutenant again visited me.

"You appear disposed, Mr. Wilmot," he said,
with a slight unbending from the former cold

But what the second lieutenant himself had pre- | haughtiness of his manner, " to observe on board

viously said, I had totally failed to hear,

A taper was burning in my room : I consulted
my watch— and found that it was one o'clock in
the morning. I had not therefore slept more than

this vessel a demeanour suitable to your condition
as a captive. I have already assured you that
there is no desire on our part to display un-
necessary harshness : indeed, I will go further and
an hour : for it was midnight when I sought my j declare that our orderb are positive to that effect,
coucii. And now Lanover was an inmate of the j Therefore, if it be agreeable, you are welcome to
Athene!— a- mere thin partition of mingled ma- \ take an airing upon the deck— under such restric-
hogany and painted panels, separated his cabin • tions as it may be deemed expedient to impose."
from mine ! But as well might an entire ocean I bowed an acknowledgement of this permis-
have divided us, so far as my present ability to ; sion ; and followed the officer to the deck. Sure
thwart his schemes, to reproach or to chastise him \ enough, as he had led me to .inticipate, there waa
with any effect, was concerned. 1 a sailor with a drawn sword in bis hand, and a

And now what argument was I to deduce from j couple of huge pistols in his belt, pacing to and
the fact that Lanover had come on board the ! fro near the head of the staircase. The lieutenant
pirate-ship this night — evidently, too, to take up j intimated that I was free to walk about from stetn
bis quarters there— instead of adhering to the ) to stern, but that should any boat approach the
original understanding, which was that he should ' schooner on the one side, I was at once to p.is3
embark on the ensuing night at ten o'clock ? over to the other ; and that if I ventured to cry out
Was it because having heard that I was a captive | anything to the persons in such- boat, the privilege
in the vessel, he had nothing further to detain him j of open air exercise would be at once taken away |
in the town of Civita Vecchia?— or was it that | from me. He likewise observed that I must not
the measures devised by the Judge and Cosmo for be astonished if, under existing circumstances, a
his capture at the place of embarkation for the ■ seaman followed me about the ship ; and then the
next night, had by some means or another come to ' lieutenant immediately added, " But you may con-
his knowledge, and he had deemed it prudent to I trive to forget, Mr. "\Tilmot, that such is the fact :
lose no time in placing himself within the pi'Otec- j for his conduct shall not be obtrusive, and shall
tion of the pirates? And if this were so, then i have as little the air of a guard as possible."
might the scheme devised by the Judge and Cosmo I bo\ted coldly — and turned away. I soon saw
for the capture of Durazzo, have also transpired ? that the seaman who was armed in the manner I
— and alas ! alas ! there was an end of the only have described, left the head of the staircase and
hope with which I had been buoying myself up. | kept within half-a-dozen paces of me: and I had no
For two long hours did I lie awake, torturing my- ' difficulty in comprehending that this precaution
self with all these reflections and apprehensions ; was adopted in order to prevent me from taking a
and when at length slumber once more came upon leap into the sea and trusting to my powers of swim-
my eyes, my sleep was troubled, uneasy, and [ ming to carry me to the steps of the lower pier, or
haunted by hideous dreams. ' to the rocky island, against which two or three

When I awoke the light was penetrating, but
dimly, from the adjacent cabin— the taper had
gone out — and my watch told me that it was six
o'clock in the morning. I rose and dressed my-
self; and then was it that for the first time I dis

boats were moored

Almost the first circumstance which now struck
me, was a certain difference between the present
aspect of the sweeping deck of the Athene from
what it was on the occasion of my former visit.

covered that circular air-hole-^or scuttle, as the Then the port-holes were closed, and the car-
technical term is — which I have doscriljed. I ! ronades were run in and turned round so as to be
opened it; and the fresh air entering freely, fanned parallel against the bulwarks: now the ports
my feverish countenance. In about an hour I were all open, and the cannon were run out.
agitated the silver bell : the youthful Greek page at Round the lower part of the masts there were
once appeared; and the instant he saw that I was stands of fire-arms — tsvo circulur arrays of long
up and dressed, he vanished again. But in about burnished muskets thus perpendicularly bristling.
8 couple of minutes he re-appeared, bearing the mas- ' Quantities of cutlasses, pistols, hatchets, boarding-
live silver salver ; and on this an elegant breakfast pikes, and grapnels— besides large cases evidently

_ ■ - I

JOSEPH WlLMOTj OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A. MAW-SERVANT.

227

containing ammunition — all tlu'se gave a tfirriblj
Tn^arlike appearance to the vessel. I could not help
stopping short as my eye wandered over the for
midable arrangements; and I thought to myself,
" Is it possible that the Athene would fight the
Tyrol if they happened to encounter ?"

My eyes met those of the second lieutenant at
the moment. He was lounging in a negligent
way against the bulwark on the opposite side :
but I felt convinced that he fathomed what was
passing in my mind— for a slight smile of what
might be termed playful haughtiness and scorn,
mingled with a sense of confidence, for an instant
wreathed his lips. It was only transient, how»
ever : and yrhen I glanced at him again, he had a
telescope to his eye, and was sweeping the coast
beyond the lower pier, and therefore to the south
of Civita Vccchia. This was the direction from
which the Tyrol might be expected to come ; and
my first impression was that the lieutenant was
looking to ascertain if any sail were visible which
might at all correspond with the Austrian frigate.
But another moment's reflection told me that such
could not be his object : for he never once swept
the glass seaward — it was along the shore in the
direction which I have named that he continued
looking.

I perceived ahout a dozen of the common sea-
men loitering silently on the deck, chiefly in the
fore part of the ship ; and as I was well aware
that the crew consisted of double this number, I
fancied that if the remainder were not below,
they must be absent on some service. I paced
to and fro, inhaling the fresh breeze, which still
blew steadily from the north, and consequently in
a completely adverse direction from that which
the Tyrol had to take to come up from Ostia, and
likewise against that which tlie schooner would
have to pursue fn order to reach Leghorn.

" Heaven grant," I thought to myself, " that
the wind may continue in this adverse quarter:
for even though it keep back the Tyrol from
advancing to the capture of the Athene, it will
likewise prevent the Athene from running on to
Leghorn— and who knows what the chapter of
accidents may turn up if only the delay of a few
days be gained ?"

Scarcely had I thus mused within myself, when
on turning to retrace my way along the deck, I
suddenly encountered the looks of Mr. Lanover.
He was on the opposite side, and was advancing
slowly in the contrary direction — his hands behind
him, and his hideous countenance animated with
the expression of a sardonic joy. Obedient to an
irresistible impulse, I was rushing across the deck
to upbraid him for his manifold villanies— when a
hand was laid upon my shoulder — I stopped short —
and the voice of the second lieutenant, speaking in
my ear, said, " Mr. Wilmot, it is one of the restric-
tions placed upon you that you are not to enter
into discourse with any one on board this vessel
unless first spoken to."

" I feel in every sense that I am a prisoner, sir,"
I answered bitterly.

" Atd your imprisonment may be rendered in-
finitely worse," rejoined the officer calmly, " unless
you pursue that same quiet, gentlemanly conduct
which you have hitherto adopted."

I made no reply — but walked onward. A
glance however whioh I threw across the deck

at the humpback, showed me that he was no
longer paying any attention to me, but was slowly
pursuing his way towards the head of the vessel.
On turning again in my walk, I noticed that Mr.
Lanover was now standing on the point where the
bulwarks met just above the figure-head ; and that
with one hand shading his eyes, he was intently
gazing towards that same part of the coast which
the second lieutenant had been sweeping with hia
glass. Thitherward I also instinctively looked;
and now methought I could perceive a black spot
upon the sea in the distance and in that same
direction. A few miuutes afterwards I looked
again ; and I had no longer any difficulty in dis-
cerning that it was a boat propelled rapidly by
several rowers. I felt convinced that this boat
was the object for which the lieutenant and
Lanover were looking ; and thinking that it
might probably involve some new phase in the
proceedings of the pirates, I hoped that I should
be allowed to remain on deck to observe the re-
sult.

To avoid however having the appearance of a
curiosity that might displease, I affected to be
gazing about me in every other direction. I now
noticed that the younger officer whom I had seen
on the first occasion of my visit to the Athene ^ —
and who, as I subsequently learnt, was the mate
of the vessel— ascended the rigging of the fore-
mast ; and with a telescope he gazed for some
minutes in the direction of that boat of which I
have spoken. On descending from the foretop, he
accosted the second lieutenant, and made some re-
port, which evidently produced considerable satis-
faction. Lanover immediately afterwards joined
them ; and the stealthy look which I bent upon
his countenance, showed me that his features were
animated with a kindred glow, but far more
hideously expressed— for the two officers, on the
other hand, were exceedingly well-looking men.

I continued pacing to and fro, without receiving
any hint that it was time my walk should end. I
observed that the Athene had several anchors, all
of which were carefully stowed in their proper
places ; and I saw likewise that the vessel vyas
riding at only a single anchor, though it was at
the mouth of the harbour — and the current, driven
by the wind, was running iu with amazing
strength, as I could tell by the strain upon the
cable. For be it understood that it is quite a
mistake to suppose that over the entire surface of
the Mediterranean there are no perceptible tides.
In a word, from every indication about the
Athene, I could comprehend, with even a lands-
man's eye, that she was ready to run out of the
harbour at a minute's warning, as she was equally
ready from her warlike aspect to offer a terrible
resistance if assailed.

Gazing upward — still though with only a lands-
man's eye — I could not possibly help admiring the
exquisite nicety of the rigging, the graceful beautj
of the tall raking masts, and the symmetry of the
long tapering spars, — all in such perfect keeping
with the admirable model of the vessel's hull itself,
as it lay motionless there, like a bird upon the
water. The Greek ensign was flying : but I well
knew that the Athene would hoist any other
colours that might suit her purpose. Looking
again upon the deck, I could not help admiring its
extreme cleanliness ; to use a common expression,

228

JOSEPH WltMOT; OB, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAS-SERVANT.

one might have eaten oflf it. Nothing was out of
place : there was not a scintillation of the sloven-'
• liness, often bordering on confusion, »?hich prevails
on board trading-vessels. Everything in the
Athene — everjthing belonging to her, wherever the
eye settled, was in the same perfect order as that
which reigns on board a man-of-war. The sailors
were all orderly and well-behaved : there was no
noise ; and when either of the officers issued a
command, it was acknowledged by the wonted
touch of the hat which denotes the respect exhi-
bited towards a superior on the quarter-deck of
every well-conducted vessel. In a word, I could
not help thinking that Captain Durazzo, all pirate
though he were, had succeeded in establishing a
remarkable discipline amidst a crew of lawless
men, where the regular maritime law of no nation
could be by the usua) means enforced.

About three quarters of an hour passed from
the first instant I had descried the boat in
the southern direction ; and now it was rounding,
•with a tolerable wide range, the head of the lower
pier : for it was compelled to make this sweep in
order to prevent the current from dashing it
against that mass of masonry. I could soon dis-
cern amidst the boat's crew an individual whose
appearance was different from that of the rest,
and who certainly seemed not to belong to them.
He was dressed in plain clothes, and was enveloped
in a travelling-cloak : bis fair complexion and light
hair ctonfrastcd with t!;e swarthy faces and dark
hair of the Greek sailors in that boat.

Still without betraying the curiosity which in-
spired me, and affecting to pace tb and fro in a
manner as if I were occupied with reflecting on my
own affairs, I kept a strict watch on the present
proceedings. The galley ran along the schooner's
side ; and the boatswain who was in command,
quickly ascending to the deck, was followed by the
lair-haired individual to whom I have alluded. On
a closer survey he proved to be of genteel appear-
ance ; and his countenance expressed a lofty scorn,
mingled with indignation ; so that I had little
difficulty in comprehending that he was a prisoner.
But who could he be ? — and for what object was he
brought on board the vessel ? These were ques
lions which I could not possibly answer to myself;
and therefore I presumed that the affairs of the
pirates must have wider ramifications than those
which circumstances had brought within my know-
ledge.

The second lieutenant advanced towards the fair-
haired stranger with a cold haughty salutation,
which' the other did not acknowledge ; but folding
his arms across his breast, he pat a sternly uttered
and peremptory question in a language which I
could not understand, but which I nevertheless
knew to be German. The second lieutenant ap-
peared to be equally ignorant of this language : for
he said in French, " If you speak to me, sir, in the
<* tongue in which I am now addressing you, I shall
be enabled to comprehend your meaning."

" I demand, then," said the fair-haired stranger,
now speaking in very excellent French, "by what
right your ruffians— playing the highwayman on
shore, as they are detestable corsairs on sea — have
dared to step me on my journey, rifle my person,
and bring me hither as a captive ?"

" Before I answer you a single question," replied
the second lieutenant, " you will do well t» abate

that air of insolent superiority which you are aiTect-
ing to adopt. Eeraember, sir, you are no longer
on board the Tyrol: you stand upon tho deck of
the Athene "

" I know that I stand upon the deck of a pirate-
ship, and in the presence of pirates !" responded
the Austrian officer: for such I now knew him
to be.

"And remember, sir," coldly rejoined the second
lieutenant, "that the distance is short from the
deck to the yard-arm, and that a running noose
with a whip will soon punish whatsoever insolence
may be exhibited towards me or my comrades."

"' Your threats, sir, do not intimidate me," replied
the Austrian with a dauntless expression of coun-
tenance. "■ I am in your power — and you can deal
with me as you think fit. But as nothing can
prevent me from denouncing you all as a gang of
detestable pirates, so nothing will save you in the
long run from the reach of that chastisement which
is due to your crimes, and which will avenge any
outrage that is offered to myself. Where is your
captain ? for I know by his personal description
that I am not now addressing him."

The second lieutenant of the Athene did not
deign an answer to the Austrian's imperious
speech : but stepping aside, he conversed for a few
minutes in whispers with the boatswain who had
charge of the galley that brought the prisoner on
board. The boatswain produced several articles,
which he handed to the lieutenant ; and amongst
which was a sealed packet.

'• Here, sir," said the lieutenant, turning to the
Austrian, " are your watch and purse, your keys,
your pocket-book, and a few other trifles that were
taken from about your person."

" And that packet," exclaimed the Austrian,
" which is addressed "

"To his Excellency Signer Portici," said the
lieutenant, coolly breaking the slal of the enve-
lope, whence he drew forth a letter, over which he
ran his eyes.

"Tou have dared to violate the sanctity of pri-
vate correspondence !" said the Austrian, his coun-
tenance flushing with indignation. " But what
else could I have expected "

" Nothing else," answered the second lieutenant,
in the same haughtily cold manner as before.
" Deeply laid as your plots and plans have been,
you see that we are enabled to outwit them. Our
gallant captain Durazzo will not fall into your
hands — neither will the Athene have to haul down
her flag to the Tyrol. And now, sir," continued
the pirate- officer, " you may proceed to the cabin
which is to be assigned to you during the period
that it may suit the will and purpose of my supe-
rior to detain yeu a prisoner on board this vessel."

The Austrian evidently saw that his indignant
remonstrances and his lofty language were utterly
ineffectual, while resistance was altogether out of
the question. He accordingly fbllowed the young
mate, whom the second lieutenant directed to lead
him to the state-room he was to occupy; while one
of the sailors carried the Austrian's portmanteau
which had just been brought up from the galley.
Scarcely was this scene over, when a signal was
run up to the mainmast; and there was no doubt
in my mind that this was an intimation to Cap-
tain Durazzo that the emissary of the commander
of the Tyrol had been arrested and was safe on

JOSEPH WILMOT; OB, THE MEMOIBS OP A MAN-8EHVANT.

229

board the pirate-vessel. Durazzo was therefore
already in Civita Vecchia; and the last chance of
his capture being effected by means of the projects
of Signer Portici and Cosmo, seemed to be all in
an instant scattered to the winds.

I remained on deck, the armed seaman follow-
ing me at a short distance ; and immediately after
that scene with the Austrian officer, it struck me
that Lanover, whose looks I happened to en-
counter, leered upon me with a triumphant ma-
lignity. But I affected not to perceive him : in-
deed, throughout that scene I had carefully
avoided any betrayal of the painful interest with
■which it had inspired me. And now, as I con-
tinued to pace to and fro upon the deck, I had
leisure to reflect on this new phase in the progress
of circumstances which so nearly concerned myself.
I was stricken with a species of consternation at
what I might term the omniscience of the pirates.
They were evidently acquainted with everything
that could in any way prove dangerous to their
security ; and step by step had they baffled and
were still baffling every detail of the arrange-
ments made by the Judge, Cosmo, and myself.
There was I, instead of being on my way to
Leghorn, a captive on board the Athene : — there
was Lanover, instead of waiting until the evening
for embarkation, already under the protection of
the pirates and safe from the ambush that was to
be laid for him :— there was the Austrian officer a
captive in the corsairs' hands, instead of proceed-
ing to the Portici Yilla to place the personal de-
Ecription of Durazzo in the bands of the Judge ;
— and as for Durazzo himself, instead of there
being the faintest probability that he would now
fall into the power of the authorities of Civita
Vecchia, there was every likelihood of his coming
in safety on board his vessel at whatsoever hour
he might think fit. Though tortured with the in-
tensest anxiety in respect to Annabel, her mother,
and her grandfather— and though bitterly deplor-
ing the failure of all Cosmo's fine schemes — it was
impossible to avoid admiring the skill and inge-
nuity with which the pirates had step by step
baffled those projects in detail and scattered them
as chaff is dispersed to the winds of heaven.

I remained walking upon deck for several hours,
until about one o'clock, when the elegantly attired
page came to inform me that refreshments were
served in my state-room ; and though I experienced
not the faintest appetite, yet I deemed it prudent
to submit in all respects to the arrangements that
were made on my behalf. I .accordingly descended
to my cabin, where I found an excellent luncheon
served up; and an hour passed before my solitude
was broken in upon. Then the page re-appcared,
with a respectfully conveyed intimation that I was
Rt liberty, if I thought tit, to ascend to the deck
ngain until dusk. I availed myself of this license ;
and, still followed by the armed seaman, walked
about the deck until the shades of evening began
to close in around, — when I was again accosted by
the page, who informed me that my dinner was
now in readiness. During all this time, since the
morning, nothing fresh at all worthy of note had
taken place : nor did I again see the Austrian
officer. He was kept a close prisoner in his cabin :
or else he declined to avail himself of the per-
mission U} walk on deck.

A choice repast was served in my state-room ;

and the youthful page remained in waiting whilo
I partook of it. He did not speak a single unne-
cessary word ; and I forbore from questioning him
on any point, for fear that by a display of undue
curiosity I should only be bringing down on my-
self the curtailment of the little privileges I was
enjoying. It was my policy to retain alt the
freedom possible while on board the Athene, so as
to acquire an insight into everything that happened,
in the hope that favourable circumstances might
yet turn up.

After dinner I remained seated in my cabin,
endeavouring to while away the time by the aid of
a book : but it is scarcely necessary to observe that
I had little inclination for reading, and that my
thoughts kept travelling to subjects far different
from those involved in the printed page before me.
Slowly enough passed the time ; and my watch
showed me that it was only ten o'clock when I had
expected it must be near midnight. I did not
think of going to bed, at least for the present. It
was at midnight that Captain Durazzo, according
to previous arrangement, was to come on board;
and immediately afterwards the schooner was to
set sail. There was just the faint hope in my
mind, — yet scarcely a hope — it was only a sense of
a very distant probability, — that Durazzo might
be arrested, and that in this one instance the
Judge and Cosmo might triumph. I was there-
fore most anxious for midnight to come that I
might see the result.

I will not dwell upon the reflections which
occupied me during the tediously passing hours :
suffice it to say that my watch at length showed
me it was close upon midnight. All appeared still
within the ship : but I had not as yet heard
Lanover retiring to his state-room which adjoined
my own. Precisely as the hands of my watch
marked the hour of midnight, the boatswain's
shrill whistle rang through the schooner ; and
almost immediately afterwards the noise of the
capstan heaving up the anchor reached my ears.
These sounds were followed by the quick trampling
of feet upon every part of the deck overhead, as
the sailors were busily and actively preparing for
the Athene to put out to sea. Two or three per-
sons descended into the large cabin, from which
the state-rooms opened : and they conversed to-
gether in vuices so low that I eould scarcely catch
their tones. Taen, affer a brief interval, some one
tapped at the door of my cabin; and I started up
from my seat, with the idea that I was about to
receive a visit from the terrible Captain Durazzo.
For that he had eome safely on board— that the
last scintillation of hope was extinct — and that
every one of Cosmo's schemes had how been frus-
trated, I could not possibly shut out from my own
conviction.

I bade the person enter — the door opened — and
a wild cry of joy thrilled from my lipa as I sprang
forward to welcome Constantino £anaris.

The handsome young Greek was dressed in a
travelling-costume, and his countenance was flashed
with a glow of triumph, which methought was the
unalloyed happiness he now at length experienced
on being enabled to call the beauteous Leonora
his own. And the cold breeze of night, too, had
probably enhanced that glow with its healthful
briskness. Certain it is that never had Constan-
tine Sanaris seemed so remarkably handsome— 40

230

JOSEPH WILMOT; OK, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT.

Apoilo-like in liis exquisite pe'-sonal beauty, than
at tliis ruoraent. My irapressioa was that by
Bome means or another be had come to save me :
for he looked not as if he were there as a prisoner
and to share my captivity.

" My dear Kanaris," I exclaimed, bounding for-
ward, as I have above said, "most welcome— Oh !
how welcome are you to your persecuted friend !
But let me not be so selfish as to think of my own
affairs belore congratulating you — as I hope I
may "

"Yes — you may congratulate me," answered
Constantino in a tone of exultation : " Leonora is
mine !"

" And now, Kanaris, you are completely happy ?"
I said, pressing his hand warmly J "and I rejoice
unfeignedl? ! But tell me— how learnt you of my
captivity ? have you the power to save me ? — or
may I even hope that the authorities are at length
in possession "

"Of the Athene?" he exclaimed. "It is by no
means probable, my dear Wilmot, that such will
ever be the case. You have fared well on board ?"
he added, glancing around the state-room: "every
attention has beeii shown you ?"

"Yes," I ejaculated: "but such politeness be-
comes a hideous mockery when offered to a captive.
The sense of the wrongs I experience, is not to be
alleviated by the presence of dainties served upon
silver "

" Your captivity need not be of long duration,"
interrupted Kanaris. " Of this you may be
assured."

" Ah !" I said, the chill of disappointment smit-
ing me, "then you have not the power to rescue
your unfortunate friend ? Nevertheless, my dear
Kanaris, it is most kind of you to incur so tre-
mendous a risk by visiting me here !"— and then,
as a sudden thought struck me— for I felt that the
vessel was in motion, I exclaimed, "But, good
heavens ! how will you get away in order to pro-
secute your journey in obedience to your uncle's
Eummons ?"

"Think not of me, my dear Wilmot?" re-
sponded Kanaris. " If I can read your thoughts
ariglic, you are anxious to see Captain Du-
razzo "

" He is on board, then?" I exclaimed. "But
yes — I thought as much !"

" He is on board," rejoined Kanaris; "and he
will doubtless give such explanations as you may
seek. Come with me ! You shall speak to him
on the quarter-deck of his own gallant vessel "

"But I may not leave, this cabin without per-
mission," I hastily observed.

" Yes — you already have Captain Durazzo's leave
and license," answered Kanaris, " to ascend to
the deck. Come quick ! You will know him at
once from the profound respect which all will tes-
tify towards him : for Durazzo is a king on board
the Athene ! Come quick, I say !"

I had not leisure for a moment's reflection — but
hastened to follow Kanaris from the state-room. We
found the large cabin unoccupied as we traversed
it : we ascended the stairs, Kanaris leading the
way. On reaching the deck, the first glance
thrown upward, showed me that the snowy white
canvass was bent to the spars, and that the beauti-
ful schooner was gliding away from the mouth of
the harbour of Civita Yecchia. A second glance

flunor along the whole range of the deck, showed
me that the sailors were full of all the bustle, ac-
tivity, and life which are wont to prevail on board a
ship proceeding to sea; and then a third glance,
flung hastily around the spot where Kanaris and
myself were standing, had the lightning-flash
effect of a thrilling revelation. Every look on the
part of the grouped officers was bent with pro-
foundest respect upon my companion ; and the
sailing-master of the Athene stood, hat in hand,
awaiting orders. For Constantino Kanaris and the
formidable corsair-chief Durazzo were one and the
same !

CHAPTER CXXV.

BITBAZZO.

Ip a bomb-shell had suddenly exploded at my feet
— if I had felt the schooner herself soaring up into
the air like a balloon— or if the whole town of
Civita Vecchia had come across the waves to sur-
round us, — indeed if the wildest impossibility had
taken place, I could not have been more com-
pletely seized with mingled wonderment, conster-
nation, and dismay, than I was on the abrupt re-
vealing of that astounding mystery. I remained
absolutely rooted to the spot— riveted statue like
to the deck— petrified— and with my looks fixed
upon the form of him whom I must now call
Captain Durazzo. On his part there was the glow
of the proudest triumph : his figure was drawn up
— not stiffly — but with an elegant hauteur and a
graceful dignity : there was nothing pi mpous, nor
arrogant, nor vainglorious in his appearance— it
was a species of chivalric pride which thus ani-
mated him as he stood revealed to me the com-
mander of that beautiful vessel. Nor was there
anything in his look or manner that seemed in-
dicative of exultation over myself : neither was
there a diminution of the friendliness of the way
in which he regarded me. I remember full well
that in the consternation and surprise which first
seized upon me, all other feelings were lost : but
when I gradually began to emerge forth, as it
were, from that stupefying sensation, I was smit-
ten with a wild horror on Leonora's behalf, and
with a profound sadness to think that one so
handsome and so elegant, so accomplished in mind
and so fascinating in manners as this young Greek
could possibly be the chieftain of a lawless horde !

" In a few minutes," said Constantine Durazzo
— for that Christian name was really his own, —
" we will discourse together : for the present I
have a few orders to execute. Remain here, or go
below, just as you think fit— you are your own
master in everything excepting your freedom."

I stood aside in melancholy and sadness ; and
just at that instant, by the light of a lantern
which was flaring on the deck of the vessel, I en-
countered the hideous mocking looks of Mr. Lan-
over. The keen eye of Durazzo fell upon those
features at the same instant ; and never shall I
forget the lofty pride— indeed the Apollo-like dig-
nity with which the young pirate-chief addressed
the humpback.

" Look you, Mr. Lanover," he said ; " it is no
reason because there is a compact existing between

JOSEPH WILMOT; OB, THB UraMOIES OP A MIH-SERVANT.

231

you and me, that you should bj jour mien or
manner offer provocation to any one in my ship :
nor is it any reason because circumstances )»ave
rendered Mr. Wilmot a captive here, that he
should esperienco annoyance of any unnecessary
kind."

Lanorer retreated in utter discomfiture, and was
lost to my view amidst the darkness which pre-
vailed farther along the deck beyond the sphere of
the glaring lamplight. I was much too dispirited,
too sad, and too desponding to thank Durazzo
even with a glance for this kind intervention on
my part ; and the young corsair-captain, having
thus gotten rid of Lanover, began to issue his
orders to those about him. The sailing-master
received certain instructions, and hastened off to
carry them out : the second lieutenant and the
mate received their orders likewise : and the
effects of all these commands, issued with a tone
and air of lofty authority blandly exercised, were
quickly visible in the direction given to the ship
and the unfolding of more canvass from the taper-
ing spars. The night was dark — the wind was
blowing strongly, but not violently : it had shifted
somewhat within the last hour or two ; and
though still far from being completely favour-
able, was less adverse than it previously had
been. The sails were all of snowy whiteness ; and
the vessel, bending gracefully to the breeze, was
borne along with an astonishing rapidity. The
lights of Civita Vecchia were rapidly waning into
a misty twinkling, until they disappeared altoge-
ther ; and whichever way the eye now glanced
around, obscurity circumscribed its gaze.

Durazzo —having spoken a few more words to
the second lieutenant, who received his superior's
orders with a salutation in which respectfulness
was mingled with a miration and affection —
' turned to me, saying, " Now, Mr. Wilmot, we can
have some little discourse together. Be so kind
as to follow me."

"We descended the stairs ; and Constantine
Durazzo led the way to that inner cabin whicb I
have already described as being more exquisitely
furnished and fitted up than the first one, and
which had the windows with the stern-chasers.
These ports were now closed — for the sea was
running somewhat high : the silver lamp sus-
pended to the ceiling and swinging to the motion
of the vessel, flooded the cabin with a brilliant
lustre; and Durazzo rang a bell, which summons
was immediately answered by the picturesquely-
attired page. An order couched in a few words,
but these kindly spoken, was given; and the page
withdrew. In a few moments he reappeared,
bringing wine and other refreshments ; and in the
inennwhile Durazzo had thrown himself with a
sort of elegant ease upon one of the richly-
appointed ottomans — affably requesting me to be
seated likewise. My manner was cold and dis-
tant, but tinctured with a profound sadness, lor
the reasons which I have already described.

" 1 can understand full well, Mr. Wilmot," said
the young corsair-chief, when the page had with-
drawn, "everything that is passing in your mind.
You have ere now experienced a surprise which
has overwhelmed you ; and I have seen enough of
your generous disposition to be aware that you
compassionate me while you tremble lor Leo-
nora." .

"I do, i do !" was the exclamation which pealed
from my lips iu accents that were excited and evec
passionate. " Oh, I would givo much for both
your sakes to find that it was all a dream— that
you were still the Eanaris whom I looked upon as
a friend "

"And is it impossible," asked Durazzo, over whose
countenance a transient expression of anguish had
flitted — that very same expression which on two
or three previous occasions I had seen for a mo-
ment ruffling those features of sueh exquisite
classical beauty, — " is it impossible for us still to
continue friends ?"

I gazed upon him for a few instants with deep
sadness in my looks; and then I said, "Would to
heaven that you could show me how it were pos-
sible !"

" That I am the captain of the Athene," ho re-
sponded slowly at first, but quickly assuming a
warmer tone, " is most true ; and that she is en-
gaged in lawless and desperate pursuits, is like-
wise true. But so far from being ashamed ox my
position in one sense, I glory in it ; and I have
loved this ship of mine with a pride and an in-
fatuation which seemed to forbid the thought that
I could ever admit into my heart another and a

different love ! Yet it has been so and Leo-

nora has eclipsed the Athene ! Mr. Wilmot, I
hope and trust that this will be my last voyiige,
and that at the expiration thereof I may be
enabled to retire from a life which until recently
was full of an excitement that I adored, but which
I hesitate not now to confess has ceased to be com-
patible with the new sentiments that inspire my
soul."

" This is at least some consolation to me," I
exclaimed : " for notwithstanding I am your pri-
soner, I cannot help experiencing somewhat of my
former friendship towards you And, Oh! Cap-
tain Durazzo, tell me at once that you will not aid
that hideous humpback Lanover in carrying out
his nefarious plans with respect to those who are
so dear to me ! Need I tell you that Annabel,
the granddaughter of that Sir Matthew Hezeltine,
whom "

" I know that you are enamoured of her," in-
terrupted Durazzo; "and at once rev-eive my
assurance that though bound to carry ovt the com-
pact with Mr. Lanover, not a hair upon the heads
of those who are thus dear to you shall be injured

no more than any injury shall be done unto

yourself !"

" This assurance," I exclaimed, " testifies that
you do indeed possess some generous feelings : but
can you controul the lawless passions of your
crew ? My Annabel is beautiful as an angel "

" If the word, Mr. Wilmot, go forth from my
lips," interrupted Durazzo proudly, '■ there shall
not be so much as a look thrown upon your Anna-
bel that may bring up a blush to her cheeks ! But
put that topic aside for a few minutes— and let me
give you some little explanations ; for the time has
passed when it was needful to maintain a mystery
with you. For upwards of two years have I beeu
the chief of this corsair-band and the commander
of this gallant vessel "

" And I need not ask," I said, " whether you
be in reality related to the great Admiral Pana-
ris ?•'

" I am no relative of the great Greek com-

232

JOSEPH WriiMOT; OB, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SEBVANX.

mandor," replied my companion : " but my name
is in reality Constantine Durazzo Kanaris — though
for a long interval I had renounced the name of
Eanaris, and resumed it only when visiting Italy
for my pleasure. This resumption of that surname,
however, was fortunate ; inasmuch as on becoming
introduced to the Judge and his beauteous niece,
it helped as well as suggested the fiction of my
kinship with the Greek Admiral— a fiction which
at once appeared to guarantee my respectability."

" And that journey to Naples which you recently
took, was doubtless for the purpose of holding in-
tercourse with the Athene ?"

"Yes," responded Durazzo; "and I will con-
tinue my explanations frankly. My love for Leo-
nora amounted to an infatuation— a madness — an
irresistible sentiment. To have lost her, would
have been death ; and yet I knew not how to make
her my bride, standing as I perpetually was upon
a mine which any accident might cause to explode.
I had left the Athene for a few months' recreation,
and likewise because I was ill and suffering at the
time. I had longed to visit Italy ; and I ordered
the Athene to put into the Bay of Naples at a
certain time, that it migiit take me on board again.
Little had I foreseen, when I left my ship to travel
in Ittily, that on arriving at Civita Vecchia I should
be spell-bound by the eyes of beauty. Yet it was
so ; and as I have already stated, I dared not dally
too long in my courtship, for fear lest some sudden
accident should unmask and expose me. I was not
generous enough — or at least my love was too strong
to permit mo to resign Leonora for ever ; and I
saw too that she loved me so deeply in return that
her own happiness would be wrecked at the same
time that mine own was destroyed, I besought
her uncle to assent to a speedy marriage— but he
demurred; and I feared lest with characteristic
prudence he might address a letter to Admiral
Eanaris, in order to obtain guarantees not so much
for my respectability — because in tliat the Judge
implicitly believed— but of my pecuniary ability to
maintain a wife in a suitable and becoming manner.
I therefore saw the necessity of acting with promp-
titude, and even with vigour. In a word, Mr.
Wilmot, I formed the desperate intention of carry-
ing off Xieonora either by fair means or by foul ;
and trusting to iier love to forgive me, as well as to
accept hor destiny as a corsair's bride "

" G-ood heavens !" I exclaimed, recoiling in horror
from this portion of the young Greek's confession ;
"and you would have thus consummated the misery
of her whom you pretended to love."

"Pretended!" ejaculated Durazzo, with a sudden
fierce flashing of his splendid eyes and a crimson
flushing of his marvellously handsome countenance ;
" by heaven it was the tremendous reality of that
love of mine which ltd me to the formation of a
project so extreme— so despei-ate! But I can
pardon you the observation : it is natural enough

• For you" he added, with a sudden sinking of

the tone and with a corresponding dejection of
look, "are differently situated in respect to your
own love !"

" Thank heaven, I am!" I murmured, but without
the intention of being overheard; for I did not wish,
neither was it my policy, to wound or irritate the
feelings of the young Greek.

Nevertheless he did catch what I said: for he
exclaimed with bitterness, " Yes, you may indeed

thank heaven that it is so!" — then instanta-
neously resuming his natural look and tone, ho
went on to observe, " Having formed the extreme
and desperate resolution of carrying off Leonora,
I proceeded to Naples — not to rejoin my ship-
but to order her up to Civita Vecchia. While at
Naples, I learnt from my lieutenant Notaras that
this northward cruise along the Italian coast
would serve a double purpose : namely, mine own,
and that of a man named Lanover, who had made
him a certain proposition by which a considerable
sum of money was to be obtained. I was too
much occupied with my own affairs to have a
great deal of curiosity at the time for those of
Mr. Lanover ; and I therefore left Notaras to
manage that business as he might think fit. The
Athene set sail from the Bay of Naples ; and I
set out by land on my journey back to Civita
Vecchia. Some little business compelled me to
take Rome in my way ; and there I fell in with
you. Utterly ignorant that you were even so
much as acquainted with Lanover, and therefore
totally unsuspicious of the object for which you
were journeying to Civita Vecchia — but con-
ceiving a liking for you — I agreed to become
your travelling-companion. I need not remind
you, Mr. Wilmot, that you were so guarded and
discreet in your conversation on the road, as to
leave me still under the impression that your
affairs and my own were no more likely to clash
than that the poles themselves should come in
collision. Nor need I remind you under what
circumstances we fell in with Notaras. Quick as
lightning the glance which I threw upon him, as
I sprang forth from the chaise to his assistance
when he was thrown from his horse, conveyed to
him my desire that he and I should seem strangers
to each other. All the rest can be succinctly ex-
plained. We arrived in Civita Vecchia ; and on
learning that you were about to call on Signor
Portici, my feeling was merely one of astonish-
ment at the coincidence — and nothing more.
Even when I received a hint from Signor Portici
that you had come to Civita Vecchia on private
business which could not be explained, but which
rendered it necessary for you to seclude yourself, I
was still without a suspicion that your affairs and
mine would in any way become entangled. But
when I learnt from Notaras that you had been on
board the Athene, and that there was some reason to
suspect you were a spy, I was startled, and resolved
to fathom your purposes, if possible. That was
my motive for obtaining Signor Portici's permis-
sion to call upon you on Sunday evening. Y''ou re-
member the discourse which took place between us.
I affected to be indifferent as to the private busi-
ness which had brought you to Civita Vecchia, lest
I should excite any suspicion in your mind ; but
you said enough to convince me that you were not
really a spy. This assurance I conveyed to the
oflicers of my crew with the least possible delay
after my interview with you. I must now proceed
to explain, that on my return from Naples to
Civita Vecchia a conversation which I had with the
Judge, convinced me that he had not written to
Admiral Kanaris, and that he was perfectly satis-
fied with certain documents which I showed him
to prove my respectability, as well as the excellence
of my position in a pecuniary sense. I saw likewise
that a temporary separation had strengthened, if

JOSEPH WII5I0T; OE, TEE MEJIOIES OF A MAN-SEKVAJTT

possible, the love of my Leonora; and therefore I
resolved upon a sudden change in my tactics. Dis-
carding the extreme measure of a forced abduction,
I proposed an immediate marriage, pleading as
an excuse the necessity of a sudden jjurney into
Greece. To my joy the Judge yielded to my
wishes— his objections were overruled — and Leo-
nora gave her assent. Everything appeared to
progress favourably until last night, — when I
beard from my second lieutenant that you were
well known to Lanover, by whom you were as
much hated as dreaded. This information he re-
ceived yesterday afternoon from Lanover, when
meeting him for the purpose of privately arrang-
ing "

" I know it all !" I interrupted Durazzo : "for
I overheard the entire conversation at the coiTee-
house between your lieutenant and that vile hump-
back."

" Ah ! — and vour man Cosmo likewise must have
82.

been a listener ?" ejf^culated Durazzo, a light
breaking in upon him. " Now I understand
everything 1 But let me continue. Ignorant of
the extent to which danger might threaten myself
— indeed uncertain as to whether there were any
real peril at all — but nevertheless conscious of the
possibility of Lanover's affairs leading to the com-
plication of mine own, I determined to be upon
my guard, and to take my measures in a manner
calculated to meet any emergency. I ordered a
band of my men to be in readiness near the
Portici Villa, with the understanding that they
were to act in accordance with certain signals —
such as a shrill peculiar whistle or the report of a
pistol. The latter was to be regarded as a proof
that I was unmasked and arrested at the villa ;
and they were to rush forward to my rescue. But
in rescuing nie under such circumstances they
would at the same time have carried off Leonora,
I These were my precautions— these my instruc-

234

JOSEPH WII/MOT; OE, THE MEMOIRS OT A MAW-SEKVANT.

lions ; and when all was settled, I boldly took my ; far as it relates to Cosmo," rejoined the pirate-
way'to the Portici Villa, hoping that everything' chief. "Do you not acknowledge, Mr. Wiliuut;

would continue to glide on smoothly— but on the
otlior hand, prepared for the worst. On my arrival
I loarnt that you and Cosmo were in private con-
ference with the Judge ; and I confess that it was
with a beating heart I hastened up-stairs to Leo-
nora. Her reception of me was loving and affec-
tionate as usual. You speedily joined us in order
to bid us farewell ; and you then, with the gene-
rous purpose of warning me against a supposed
danger in respect to my visits to this vessel, made
important revelations. I thus learnt that I my-
self was still unsuspected, but that the charac-
ter of the ship was known, and that schemes were
in progress for the arrest of Lanover and myself.

that I have given you frank and candid esplaua-
tious ?"

"Your" candour. Captain Durazzo, has cost you
nothing," I answered somewhat coldly : " for
there was uo longer the slightest necessity to
maintain a mystery towards me."

" And you think Mr. "Wilmot," said Constan-
tine, now himself adopting a certain air of
haughty reserve, " that we can never be friends
again ? You are silent," ho added after a pause :
"you do not answer me. You feel that you are
in my power — you do not choose to say aught that
you fear might irritate me towards you: whilo-on
the other hand you will not compromise your own

Then, as you remember, I was present in the ' self-esteem and personal dignity by giving utter-

dining-room when Signor Portici announced the
expected arrival of an oTEcer of the Tyrol, fur-
nished with a personal description of myself.
My mind was at once made up how to act. True
to my compact with Lanover — or rather the one
which Notaras had mftde on my behalf — I con-
sidered mj-self bound to frustrate your pro-
ject of proceeding to Leghorn and warning Sir
Matthew Heseltine. Hence your capture by my
men — which was effected through the connivance
of the postilion, into whose hand I thrust some
pieces of gold while you were taking leave of
Signor Portici. But I had (mother reason for
making you my prisoner ; and this I must ex'

ance to anything that is insincere. Can you not
understand that I admire such a character &k
yours ? or do you fancy that I am lost to every
noble and elevating sentiment ?"

" I observed just now," was my response, " that
you evidently possess many generous feelings. But
can you ask for my friendship at a moment when
your vessel is proceeding towards a destination
where your object is to carry out the neiarious —
the diabolical views of such a wretch as Lanover ?"

" I dare not fly away from my compact with
that man," answered Durazzo. " There are cer-
tain immutable laws as v.-eil as fixed principles
that constitute, so to speak, the very foundation of

plain hereafter. All the r^st of my measures the authority which I myself wield on board this

were pi-omptly taken : Lanover received a warn- i schooner "

iiig which brought him without delay last night | " If it be a matter of a few hundred pounds,"
on board the Athene— and a party of my men in- I indignantly exclaimed, " let mo at once give you

tercepted this morning the Austrian officer on the ■ a draft, or band you a letter of credit -"

road to Civita Vecchia. In the forenoon of this " If it were merely that matter," interrupted
day the bridal took place : — Signor Portici and my the young Grreek, " I would cheerfully from my
beloved Leonora believe at this moment that I am i own resources fling the amount into the common
already some miles on that journey which I pre- i stock and iiave done with Lanover and bis affnirs

texted. But here I am secure and free, on board
my own gallant vessel ! Ah, and I should observe
th t I was accompanied by another whose tempo-
rary prisonnge suits the new plans I have formed
and the altered projects which I have in view.
That man is Cosmo."

for your sake. But the compact must be carried
out ! There is not a man now under my command
who would not rebel against me if I placed it in
the power of Lanover to proclaim that the pirate-
chief's word to him was broken. Therefore argue
this point no farther ; and rest satisfied with the

" WhatJ" I ejaculated, " is it possible ? Cosmo assurance that no harm beyond a mere loss of

a captive on board the Athene ?"

"Yes," rejoined Durazzo: "the police-spy of
Ostia, who made use of yourself as his tool, is a
prisoner in the forepart of this vessel. But now
you may wonder, Mr. Wilmot, why I have given
you all these minute explanations? I will tell
you."

" I need not ask," I said, " whether Cosmo
is well treated ? I think I know you well
enough "

" To be assured that I am incapable of inflict-
ing unnecessary harshness or useless cruelty ? I

liberty for a period, shall befal those in whom you
are so deeply interested."

I remained silent for upwards of a minute, —
reflecting painfully on all that Constantino Du-
razzo had just said ; and then I remarked, "' You
were just now on the point of expluiuing where-
fore you entered into such elaborate details to
account fo» your past conduct ?"

" I informed you, Mr. "Wilmot," proceeded the
pirate-chief, " that I hope this present voyage will
be my last. I do not mean the mere cruise up to
Leghorn — but a sis weeks' or two months' scouring

do not blame Cosmo," continued the corsair- chief, i of the Levant : so that I may be enabled to double
" for having studied to ensnare myself and to cap- . or treble the resources I already possess. If for-
ture my vessel. It is his avocation to do these j tune thus far favour me, it is my purpose to
things, and accomplish what the world calls the law abandon for ever a lawless life — to return to
and justice, as it is mine to enact the part of free- ' Italy— and to bear away ray bride to some far-
booter on the seas. Nevertheless, Cosmo having off clime, where we may thenceforth dwell in a
fallen into my power, must submit to whatsoever j peaceful and happy seclusion. That is my aim — •
conditions I choose to impose — or he will have to that is my hope ; and all the explanations I have
meet the fate of a spy." ! given you, were intended to lead you to the com--

" And those conditions F" I asked. prehension of this prnject which I have formed.

" We will discard that topic lor the present— so : Will you mar it r"

JOSEPH 'WILMOT; OE, TUB lIE^rOIES OF A MAK-SERTANT.

235

" I scarcely understand you," was my an-
swer.

" I will explain myself fully and completely,"
rejoined Constantine. " I told you at the outset
that it was not merely to prevent you frocn pro-
ceeding to Leghorn that I caused you to be taken
captive. There was another reason. I knew that
under any circumstances you must shortly dis-
cover that Constantine Kauaris and the pirate-
captain were one and the same individual, and
t'lerefore "

"I comprehend!" I said. "Apart from the
iniquitous affairs to be achieved at Leghorn, you
hold me your prisoner in order to prevent me from
making any disagreeable revelation to Signer
Portici and his niece ?"

" Precisely so," rejoined Durazzo, with a calm
firmness. " In all probability the cruise with Sir
Matthew Heseltine and the ladies of his family
will be of short duration : for the English Bavonet
will doubtless prove but too eager to yield to
Lanover's demands, in order to regain liberty for
himself and those who are dear to him. Let us
suppose therefore all this to be accomplished —
let us suppose that Lanover being satisfied. Sir
Matthew Heseltine and bis family are set at free-
dom,— what course would yov, adopt if I gave you
freedom at the same time ?"

"Let me ask. Captain Durazzo," I said, " what
course you yourself would adopt if you were in
my position ?"

" You have no right, Mr. Wilmot, to beg the
question thus," answered Constantine with a stern
severity, — the expression of his countenance at
that moment fully illustrating the power of this
mere youth with his delicately chiselled features,
to assume the air of command which was neces-
sary for the control of the lawless crew that with
such evident willingness and admiration served
under him. " Answer for yourself," he added ;
" and do not speak evasively, nor seek to compro-
mise me by an appeal to feelings which, situated
as I am, I cannot — dare not understand. In
one word, supposing at the end of a week or a
fortnight, or within a few days, as the case may
be, I put you on shore wheresoever you may
choose to be thus landed, — would you proceed
straight to Civita Vecchia to proclaim my secret to
the Judge and his niece ? or would you pledge me
your solemn word of honour as a man and a gen-
tleman that you would keep this secret invio-
lable ?"

" Of what use," I asked, " would be such a
pledge from my lips, when others might betray
you ?"

"Ah!" ejaculated the young chieftain, petu-
lantly ; " again you speak with an evasiveness
which surprises me on the part of Joseph Wilmot !
But I will answer you in every detail — so that
there may be left no excuse for your avoidance to
come to the point. Lanover will not betray me —
his own interests forbid the idea : I have already
told you that Cosmo must yield to the conditions
which I shall impose — namely, to serve amongst
my crew for a certain period — in short, for so long
a time as he might be dangerous if restored to
liberty. Then there remains the Austrian officer.
He also shall be detained on board the Athene
until the time be passed when he would have the
power to injure me. You now understand my

policy and my intentions, Mr. Wilmot ; and you
will give me credit for the desire to spare you that
lengthened prisonage which is reserved for the
others."

"And if I pledge my word to the effect you
demand," I said, " what guarantee have you that
I should keep it?''

'• Because I have confidence in your honour,"
rejoined the pirate-chief. "All this hesitation and
evasiveness on your part confirm my previously
conceived opinion of your trustworthiness. A man
who precipitately gives the pledge that is de-
manded of him, would as readily break it : but
the man who hesitates at thus solemnly committing
himself, deals not lightly with an oath and looks
upon it as too sacred to be broken."

'•' There is one point which you appear to have
lost sight of," I remarked, as a thought struck me.

" It is not probable," said Durazzo, with a slight
smile, which was as much as to imply that he was
not wont to be thus deficient in caution.

"' The commander of the Tyrol," I rejoined,
" possessed a personal description of you : the
written document containing that description, is
now in your hands, as I have every reason to be-
lieve—but still the captain of the Tyrol may com-
municate it verbally to Signor Portici— and the
Judge will at once recognise the identity !"

" The Tyrol," answered Durazzo, " will not tarry
an instant at Civita Vecchia when a signal from
the port conveys to it the intelligence that the
Athene has sailed. She will spread all her
canvass for the chase ; and I promise myself the
pleasure of leading her such a dance over the
waters of the Mediterranean that her time shall
be fully occupied for weeks and weeks to come.

Unless indeed But no matter ! Come what

will, I reck not for the Tyrol I In a word, my
plans are all so well arranged — my proceedings so
carefully settled — that yon only are the object of
my concern ; and it is from motives of friendship
towards yourself that I leave you the alternative
of pledging me the oath I have described, when
the time shall come — instead of finding myself
under the necessity of detaining you a prisoner on
board the Athene for a lengthened period."

Durazzo ceased speaking : he awaited my an-
swer—but I gave him none. I reflected pro-
foundly. I felt it to be a paramount duty that
the first use I must make of liberty, whenever ob-
tained, would be to reveal the astounding secret to
the worthy Judge and his amiable confiding niece,
so as to open their eyes to the precipice on which the
fabric of their happiness was tottering. But on the
other hand it were most impolitic on my part to
make an immediate enemy of Durazzo by reveal-
ing what my intention was ; and the only course
at present open to me was by gaining time ere
I gave any decided response, so as to trust to
whatsoever the chapter of accidents might turn

" I see," said the pirate-chief, with an air of
coldness, which was no doubt assumed to veil his
disappointment and annoyance at the failure of his
design to extract an immediate pledge from me,—
'•' I see that you require time, Mr. Wilmot, to
reflect upon all that I have been saying. And in-
deed, when I come to think of it," he added, now
changing his look to a listless one, and assuming a
carelessness of manner, " there is no earthly hurry.

236

JOSEPH WTLMOT; OE, THE MEMOIES OF A. MAIT-SERVAXT.

You will have ample leisure for mature delibera-
tion."

There was a momentary silence ; and then Dn-
razzo said, " It is now late — and you may possibly
wish to retire. My duties demand my presence
for a while on deck."

Thus speaking, Constantine Dorazzo rose from
his seat, and bowed with a haughtily dignified
coldness. I returned the salutation with mingled
reserve and sadness; and issuing from the elegantly
appointed cabin, repaired to my own state-room.

CHAPTER CXXVI.

THE TYROL.

Aftee a few hours of uneasy and troubled repose,
I quitted my couch. On consulting my watch, I
found it was eight o'clock in the morning; and my
toilet being accomplished, I rang the silver bell,
not merely for the purpose of procuring breakfast,
but likewise to ascertain, through the medium of
the page, whether I still possessed the privilege of
taking an airing upon deck. The youth quickly
made his appearance, with the materials for an
excellent repast, if I had humour and appetite to
enjoy it — which I assuredly had not : but he said
nothing, and I did not choose to question him, at
least not for the present. On returning, however,
to remove the tray, the elegantly attired page
intimated that I was at liberty to take an airing
on the deck whenever I thought fit.

I at once availed myself of this permission. On
ascending the stairs, I observed that the armed
seaman was no longer mounting sentinel on the
deck — nor was I followed about the schooner as on
the previous day. There was indeed no necessity for
any such precaution. We were far away from land,
which was only just perceptible as a thread-like
streak in the eastern horizon : but its position, and
that of the schooner, enabled me at once to compre-
hend that the wind had shifted to the south, and
was therefore completely favourable to the progress
of the Athene towards Leghorn. It was blowing
strong— the sea was rough : but as the gallant
bark bent to the breeze under a press of canvass, it
glided lightly and with incredible swiftness over
the rolling waves.

Near the helm'sman stood the pirate-chief. He
was now clad in an elegant uniform : the flush of
pride was upon his cheeks — a kindred fire flashed
from his superb dark eyes, as he watched the pro-
gress of the Athene over the waters of the Medi-
terranean. Young though he were, he nevertheless
seemed to be fitted for command ; and that slight,
elegant, youthful form evidently contained a soul
possessing all the attributes necessary for the exer-
cise of the loftiest authority over his crew. In
every sense he looked the chief; and I could not
repress a sudden feeling of admiration as I beheld
him there at his post.

He saluted me with a courtesy in which the
dignity of a commander was mingled with a recol-
lection of our recent friendship ; and I acknow-
ledged it in a suitable manner. My demeanour
was just sufficiently cold and distant to prove my
sense of the altered terms on which I stood towards
him— but at the same time sufficiently polite to

avoid the chance of coming to an open rupture.
The second lieutenant and the mite stood at a
little distance, ready to catch the first glance of
their commander's eye at any moment that he
might be about to issue a fresh order ; and the
sailing-master presently joined them. But no one
ventured to address an observation to Captain
Durazzo unless first spoken to by him, or unless it
were to report something with regard to the duties
which they respectively had to perform. I looked
along the deck to see if Cosmo, or the Austrian
officer, or Lanover were likewise taking the air :
but I beheld none of them.

" No," said the pirate-chief, evidently divining
my thoughts, "they are all three below in their
respective berths. Cosmo, unaccustomed to the
sea, is suflering from sickness — Lanover is in the
midst of his breakfast — and the proud Austriaa
disdains to come upon deck, for the simple reason
that it required my permission for him to do so.
Let him enjoy the solitude of his state-room!— he
will perhaps have the further gratification of pre-
sently beholding an exciting spectacle through the
air-hole of his cabin !"

A peculiar light flashed from Durazzo's eyes as
he gave utterance to these last words ; and the
colour heightened upon his countenance. For
a moment indeed his features were radiant, as if
with the presage of a triumph that he was confi-i
dent of achieving. I could not understand what
he meant ; and I gazed upon him in silent asto'
nishment.

" See you that sail, Mr. Wilmot ?" he asked,
slowly turning towards the stern of the schooner,
and directing my attention to an object in the
southern horizon. " The Tyrol must be crowding
all its canvass upon its masts — for it comes moro
quickly than I could have anticipated. I do not
affect any mystery with you — it is now useless,
and would therefore be puerile. I thought to have
accomplished the business at Leghorn before the
Tyrol could be within sight : but she is a better
sailer than I had been taught to imagine her."

The idea flashed to my mind that Captain
Durazzo meant to fight the Tyrol : but I instan-
taneously discarded it as a notion too wild and im-
possible to be entertained. I had heard that the
Tyrol was a thirty-two gun frigate: I knew that
the Athene had only eight carronades on her deck,
besides the three small brass stern-chasers in
Durazzo's cabin; and therefore, as a matter of
course, a second thought made me feel astonished
at myself at the apparent madness of the idea that
the corsair-chief, however desperate, would think
of engaging such a foraiidable enemy. I looked
towards the sail in the horizon ; and then, as I again
glanced at the young Greek, I was more than ever
struck by his aspect. TVithout any exaggeration
there was the stamp of a god-like heroism upon his
features: his form appeared to dilate — his eyes
shone with a supernal lustre — he seemed taller than
he really was, in such a manner was his figure
drawn up ; and he stood upou the deck of his vessel
with the mien of a man who felt that he was
capable of every thing. Back to my mind rushed
that idea which I had just discarded— back it came,
stronger, more palpable than at first; and it no
longer seemed as if I were thinking of the wild and
impossible.

The young Greek appeared perfectly to compre-

hend all that was passing in my thoughts : for he
Baid in a calm quiet tone, yet with a slight haughty
curling of his upper lip, "Perhaps, Mr. Wilmot, it
may not be so insane and frenzied a proceeding as
you at first imagined ?"

" You mean, Captain Durazzo," I said eagerly,
" to fight yon ship ?"

" Well, I think it will be the better course," be
answered, with a marvellous coolness — indeed with
so listless, careless, and indifferent an air that for a
moment it appeared like a silly affectation, con>
sidering the etern gravity of the circumstances.
" You see, Mr. Wilmot," he continued, a trifle more
seriously, " it would be easy enough for me to run
away from the Austrian : and if I bad no special
object in view at a particular place, I should cer-
tainly do so. A man is an idiot who risks a gallant
vessel and a fine crew in bootless strife. But it is
otherwise with us — with me, I mean," be added,
correcting himself, while he bowed slightly as if to
invoke my pardon for having seemed even for an
icstant to include myself within the scope of the
circumstances to which be alluded. " If I were to
run on to Leghorn, the Tyrol would be upon me in
a few hours, and the interval might not be suffi-
cient to do Lanover's business. And then I should
have to fight the Tyrol off Leghorn as an almost
inevitable necessity. Just as well fight her here
in the open sea, where, if a certain result ensues,
no one at Leghorn nor any where else need know
what has happened till I choose to proclaim it."

" You reckon. Captain Durazzo," I said, " at
obtaining an easy victory over that frigate ?"

" Not an easy one, Mr. "Wilmot," he answered
gravely. "I am no idle boaster — nor am I such
an idiot as to blind myself to the danger which is
to be run. The most despicable fool in this world
is the man who cheats himself; and that part I shall
never play. It was my intention — as I told you
last night— to lead the Tyrol a dance that might
employ her for weeks to come : but I candidly
confess that I knew not she was so swift a sailer.
Nevertheless, even last night I bad some faint
presentiment that it might possibly prove neces-
sary to exchange shots with her; and now this
presentiment shall be fulfilled."

I remembered that in one part of a speech
on the preceding night, the young Greek, after
speculating on the dance be might lead the Tyrol,

had used the phrase "Unless indeed " and

then he had cut himself short. I therefore saw
that his present demeanour was not one of mere
braggadocio assumed for the purpose of carrying
off a real terror in the presence of a grave
emergency; but that it was entirely consistent
with a sagacious prescience that was all along
calmly prepared for any eventuality. I dare say
that my looks expressed more satisfaction than
otherwise, though not the less blended with
astonishment, at the idea that he positively pur-
posed to engage the Tyrol ; and again Durazzo
fathomed what was passing in my mind.

" It is quite natural," he said, — " and I do not
blame you ! You hope that a crisis is now at
hand the result of which will be to give freedom
to yourself and release those at Leghorn in whom
you are so interested, from any farther peril on
the part of the corsair-vessel. Well, it may be
80 : and yet "

" Listen to me, Captaia Durazzo !" I ex-

claimed vehemently. " I should hail with the
most unfeigned joy — and you have admitted that
it is natural — my own prompt emancipation from
captivity here, and the abrupt cutting short of
those projects which the demon Lanover has
initiated. But, on my soul, I should grieve if
anything fatal were to happen to yourself: for I
have yet the hope that society may recover one
who though now lost to it, might, if he chose,
prove one of its worthiest members !"

Durazzo flung upon me an unspeakable look of
mingled gratitude and friendship ; and I saw that
bis lip quivered despite all his efforts to keep down
the swell of bis emotions.

"You have spoken with, the noblest magna-
nimity," he said : " you have given utterance to
more than I could have expected— to more per-
haps than I deserve ! Would to heaven that I
could in any way alter the course of events as they
relate to yourself or to those in whom you are so
much interested ! But I cannot."

With these words the young corsair-chief turned
abruptly away; and the next instant he was gazinfj
through a telescope at the Tyrol in the distance. I
noticed that the officers who stood near, and seve-
ral of the sailors at a little distance, contemplated
their youthful commander — while even the man at
the wheel furtively studied his countenance — all
with the eager anxiety of suspense as to what his
decision might be. He himself was once more
the resolute, strong-minded, calmly exultant being
that I had just now seen him, before giving way
to that transient betrayal of softer emotions : and
banding the telescope to a boy who stood near, he
turned towards the group of officers, with whom he
consulted for a few minutes. I saw by their
features that the proposition — or rather, perhaps,
the intimation of his own views — excited the live-
liest satisfaction ; and the conviction struck me
that the combat was to be fought.

Then calm, firm, and clear pealed forth the
voice of Constantine Durazzo— a voice full of mas-
culine harmony, and yet conveying all the autho-
rity with which he was invested— for he was a
king, as be himself had expressed it, on board the
Athene : and the order which he thus gave, was
promptly executed. Several of the seamen sprang
up the rigging of the two tall tapering masts — on
to the yards and the booms : and a quantity of the
canvass was promptly taken ia. The course of
the vessel was altered somewhat : it curved
and stood out farther from the land, which in a
few minutes ceased altogether to be visible. Then
a fresh command was issued — the sails were still
farther reduced — and it was evident that the
Athene lay waiting for the Tyrol.
. "Now you perceive, Z*Ir. Wilmot, that I am
really in earnest," said Durazzo, once more accost-
ing me.

" I have not doubted it, since you gave me the
assurance," I answered.

"Over yonder lies Elba," continued the corsair-
chief, pointing in a westward direction ; " and it
would be easy for me to run past that island, con-
tinue my course round the north of Sardinia,
and thus fly away from the Tyrol. But under
existing circumstances I choose to fi^ht her."

He again took the telescope ; and having studied
the distant canvass— for the hull of the frigate
was not even yet visible— he said to me, " Wa

238

JOSEPH WlLMQT ; OE, TaE MEMOIRS OP A MAN-SEKVAST.

have yet a few minutes for private discourse : have
the goodness to step down with me into mv cabin."

I I'otlowed Durazzo thither ; and on gaining his
beautifully appointed dwelling-place, he at onco
addressed me, in a low but firm voice, to the fol-
lowing effect : —

'■' Amidst the chances of strife I may fall, Mr.
Wilmot ; and it is also probable for the moment
to arrive when it may seem that the Athene must
become a prey to the Austrian. But whatsoever
may happen to me, that catastrophe cannot occur
to the ship :— for there is a solemn compact
amongst us that we are never to surrender.
A spark to the powder-room is the alternative to
be adopted. Should that moment come, yourself,
the Austrian prisoner, and Cosmo shall be duly
cared for. A boat can be rapidly lowered; and
into this shall ye all three be put. To this effect
will I issue orders to those next to me in command.
And now — I mean in the case which I have sup-
posed, but which I datter myself is little likely

nevertheless, if it should occur, you must do

my last behest towards Leonora. You may tell
her all the truth. Better for her to hear it deli-
cately and considerately broken from your lips,
than vauntingly proclaimed by the unfeeling
Austrians ! Say what you will of lue : but fail
not to give her the assurance that I loved her —
nay, adored her unto the very last ; and that what-
soever glory might be gained by such a desperate
deed as this, I craved it only that it might render
my name all the less odious in her eyes. For
there is something, AVilmot, in a feat of dauntless
daring that compensates for much of the iniquity
of a life such as mine !"

" I swear that I will do your bidding !" I an-
swered : and I must confess that I experienced at
the instant no inconsiderable degree of emotion.
" But in the provision which you made for the
safety of some of us, you included not Lan-
Dver "

'•'Ah, the worthless lump of carrion!" ejaculated
Durazzo, with the most unfeigned disgust. " I
hate him— hate him, for your sake ! But I see
that your merciful disposition would intercede on
behalf of even a wretch such as he, and despite
his iniquities towards yourself and those whom
you love. Well, be it so ! If the emergency
should happen, you shall find him amidst those
who are to be consigned to the boat."

'•' And that young page ?" I said : " 7ie seems at
least to be innocent of any active co-opera-
lion "

" Ah ! I had forgotten him 1" rejoined Durazzo.
" Yes — he, poor boy, must he saved. He is an
orphan — he was a schoolfellow of mine — and ho
attached himself to me as if he were a younger
brother. But plead for no more— or there would
be none left to blow up into the air along with
the good ship Athene !"

I recoiled from these concluding words, which
Btruck me as being uttered with a horrible mock-
ing flippancy : but Durazzo, penetrating my
thoughts, said hastily, " Do not think me cruel —
do not think me ferocious. I am not naturally
so. But a man may speak lightly of casualties
which are the most horrible : or he perhaps would
not be enabled to look them calmly in the face.
And now I must return to the deck. But
you, Wilmot "

" With your permission I will accompany you,'
I answered.

'• Shall jou witness the combat?" inquired Du-
raazo, gazing on me with astonishment.

" I think," I responded, '•' that I have sufficient
curiosity for that purpose."

" Be it so," rejoined Durazzo : and then he
added in an impressive tone, '"'But beware how
you touch a rope, or approach a guu, or even suc-
cour a wounded man ! For if from the deck of
the Austrian you be seen taking part, 'nowever
slightly in the conflict, the story you have to tell
would not for a single instant avail you : and if
the worst happened, you would be picked up ip
the boat only to be hanged at the yard-arm as a
pirate !"

Thanking Durazzo for his advice, I followed hina
to the deck. On reaching it, I looked at once in
the direction of the Tyrol; and as for the last
twenty minutes the schooner had been lying to,
the Austrian frigate had approached considerably
nearer than when I saw her last. Her hull wai
now completely visible; and she came on under a
press of canvass. The Athene continued to remain
quiet; and in a few minutes more, the streak of
white paint, dotted with the black ports, which in-
dicates a man-of-war, was plainly perceptible along
the side of tho Tyrol.

" Now, Mr. Wilmot," said Durazzo to me, '•' tho
period of excitement is at hand. I am about to
give the order to clear the ship for action ; and I
should advise you to go down below."

'•' Not for the present, at all events," I an-
swered,— " at least if I have your permission to
remain on deck ?"

'•' Follow your own inclinations," rejoined the
young corsair-chief; " and whatever may happen
within the next few hours— if death should be my
doom — think in after-life as leniently as you can of
one who could have wished to have gone on per-
forming throughout a friendly part towards you!"

Without waiting for a reply, Durazzo turned ab-
ruptly away from me ; and again his calm clear
voice went pealing forth in its full tide of mauly
harmony, issuing the command for all hands to
clear the Athene for battle. Then uprose from the
deck of the corsair-vessel such a tremendous shout
of joy, that it went rolling over the sea as a pre-
lude to the thunder-voice in which the ship itself
was presently to speak. That shout lasted but for
a few instants : then all was still once more, so far
as men's voices were concerned, — though the live-
liest activity now prevailed from stem to stern
throughout the long sweep of the schooner's deck.
Several of the sailors too sprang up into the rig-
ging to make such preparations as might there
be necessary, and to sling the yards in chains as a
precaution against their being easily shot away if
merely sustained by their ropes.

It was in the midst of all this bustle and excite-
ment— but a bustle and excitement in which no con-
fusion could be discerned — where every man knew
his place as well as his own specific duty, — that hap-
pening to glance towards the top of the staircase, I
perceived the countenance of Lanover peering forth
upon the scene. Never shall I forget the look
which that countenance >,>oro. It was hideous:
while the face itself was ghastly with the mingled
bewilderment, terror, and dismay that it expressed.
The man appeared scarcely able to believe the evi-

JOSEPH WTLMOT; OB, THE MEITOIES OF A MAX-SEKVAXT.

239

dence of his own senses. And well might he have
been thus smitten with consternation and incredu-
lity : for it was natural that he should think of the
possibility of a shot reaching himself— equally
natural that he should doubt whether the corsair-
chief could be serious in engaging the Tyrol.
Durazzo, with an exclamation of disgust, waved
his hand imperiously for Lanover to go down
again; and the vile humpback quickly disappeared
trom my view.

CHAPTER CXXVIL

THE FIGHT.

The scene was now becoming vividly exciting.
On came the pyramid of snowy canvass, with the
Austrian flag floating high above all : but hitherto
the Athene had shown no colours. The command
to clear the deck for action on board the corsair,
had been executed with a wondrous promptitude :
rammers, sponges, and all the tackle requisite for
the carronades had been put in their places — am-
munition was brought up from below with marvel-
lous despatch— and yet, as I have already said,
there was not the slightest confusion in the carry-
ing out of these sinister preliminaries. The young
Greek commander — in his elegant uniform, with
massive epaulettes on his shoulders — and his bfelt
sustaining a sword of somewhat formidable dimen-
sions for so slight a hand to wield, and likewise
now furnished with a pair of double-barrelled
pistols — issued his mandates with the calmness
and clearness which indicated perfect self-posses-
sion. A single glance which I flung over the busy
active crew, was sufficient to convince me that
they placed the utmost reliance in the experience
of their commander, and that they were content to
perform their duty with an automaton-like docility
as if it were impossible that he who directed their
movements could for a single instant err.

Quantities of boarding pikes and tomahawks
figured amongst the terrible weapons so profusely
amassed in the proper quarters for the struggle
that was about to take place; and Captain Durazzo,
making the tour of the deck, carefully inspected
the guns, the stands of arms round the masts, and
all the various accessories that I have enumerated.
Then he descended with four of his men, who were
laden with the deadly implements of war, to his
own cabin ; and though I followed him not thither
on the present occasion, yet I comprehended full
well that the stern-chasers were not forgotten
amidst the other preliminaries for the approaching
conflict. The young Greek commander speedily
returned to the quarter-deck : another mandate
issued from his lips — and now I became tho wit-
ness of a singular proceeding.

A strong pulley was rigged to & convenient spar
belonging to the foremast ; and nearly all the hands
on board the schooner addressed themselves to the
work about to be achieved. Then slowly from the
depths of the vessel a long and formidable piece of
ordnance was raised; and this was fixed upon a
pircl ;:i the deck, between the two masts, suffi-
ciently high to have its range above the bulwarks,
and thus in a position to swing and sweep round
in every direction. This was a mystery connected
■with the pirate-vessel which was hitherto perfectly

' unknown to me ; and it afforded a new theme for
wonderment at tiie extraordinary resources pos-
sessed by those who were about to be engaged iii so
deadly a strife?

On came t'ae Austrian frigate ; and as she was
running before the wind, the lofty pyramid of
canvass inclined gracefully towards the schooner —
which, now proceeding on the other tack, heeled
slightly and still more gracefully over on the oppo-
site direction. I saw that in a few minutes the
hostile vessels would be within gun-shot range of
each other— but still I had no inclination to
descend to my state-room : I experienced an in-
tense curiosity to behold tho conflict ; and I like-
wise thought that there was scarcely more danger
on the deck of the schooner than in a small cabin
where a shot crashing through the side, might
send the splinters flying perilously about.

All of a sudden a single flash from the side of
the Tyrol heralded the roar of a gun : the thunder
voice of that cannon spoke — and the white wreath-
ing vapour rolled slowly away over the sea. A
command went forth — clear, loud, and distinct—
from Durazzo's lips; and a black flag — the inva-
riable corsair-symbol of Mediterranean pirates-
floated in the twinkling ' of an eye above the
Athene.

On came the Tyrol; and it was now sufficiently
near for us to catch the sound of the Austrian
captain's voice of command pealing through the
speaking-trumpet. Durazzo knew that it was the
order for a broadside to be fired. Quickly but
firmly his mandate was issued to the steersman,—
so that the Athene, obedient to her helm as the
docile steed is to the rein, moved in such a manner
as to receive that broadside with the least chance
of injury to herself. The terrific roar of tho
Austrian cannon crashed with a deafening sound:
there were numerous and simultaneous splashes in
the sea — there was the gushing sound of a ball a
little above my own head — and scarcely had I
recovered as it were from the startling sensation
thus produced, when the artillery poured forth its
thunder from the dark side of the schooner. The
instant the smoke cleared away, I glanced towards
the Tyrol, and perceived that its main and fore
topsails were fluttering all loose to their yards. A
second glance, flung upward amidst the exquisite
tracery of the Athene's rigging, showed mc (so far
as I could judge) that nothing was injured. Thia
impression was instantaneously confirmed by the
look of triumph which Durazzo cast around him^
when his own eye had swept with all the keenness
of experience over every detail of his gallant vessel
alow and aloft.

Quick as lightning was the sweep which the '
Athene now made in obedience to her helm : the j
huge piece of ordnance swinging on its pivot,
vomited forth its flame, its shot and smoke ; and !
with fatal accuracy had it been discharged — for the
fore-topmast of the Tyrol fell, with all its upper
gear, over the frigate's side. The Athene swung
round like a fairy vessel— its stern-chasers poured
forth their deadly charge— and before the Tyrol
seemed capable of executing another manoeuvre,
the other broadside of the pirate-ship was fired
into her. Immense was the damage done to tho
frigate : but as yet not a spar was injured — not a
ropo was cut on board the Athene!

It requires little skill in nautical matters to en-

240

JOSEPH WHiMOT ; OB, .TKB MEMOIES OP A MAN-SEEVAKT.

able the reader to comprehend that the Tyrol was
thus at the very outset deprived of much of the
advantage which her superior power and calibre
gave her over the Athene. The»damage done to
her masts, her sails, and her rigging, prevented her
from getting about in time to avoid being raked
by the Athene the instant the artillery of the latter
vessel was reloaded. Incredible was the swiftness
with which the manoeuvres of the pirate-schooner
were executed : it seemed as if the slightest touch
of the wheel sent her sweeping and curving and
dashing round or onward in any direction, just as
a man may cause the most tractable and clever
steed to wheel in obedience to the rein. Running
straight in towards the bows of the Tyrol, the
Athene poured in another broadside: she veered
again — Durazzo himself pointed the long piece of
ordnance which swung upon its pivot— and the
discharge was followed by the fall of the maintop-
mast of the Tyrol. The stern-chasers did their
work once more : round went the corsair- vessel —
and the remaining broadside raked the Austrian,
which lay well-nigh disabled and powerless, so far
as manoeuvring went, upon the bosom of the
Mediterranean. I was stricken with perfect aston-
ishment at the marvellous successes thus obtained
by a vessel which was but as a skiff in comparison
with the huge fabric that floated at a little distance.

There was a triumph depicted on the counte-
nance of Durazzo — but not a vain-glorious exul-
tation. To do the young Greek adequate justice,
it was the glow of a noble heroism. But still the
day was far from being his own : for though the
Tyrol was disabled in all that concerned the
manoeuvring requisite for acting on the offensive,
—it floated there, a formidable battery for all defen-
sive purposes. A sudden change in the wind
filling its remaining sails, assisted the helm suffi-
ciently to give such a movement to the huge fabric
that its broadside was again poured forth upon
the Athene — and this time with better effect : for
the din of the cannon was instantaneously followed
by the sound of crashing wood near to the spot
where I remained standing on the deck. The
splinters flew about my ears; and the smoke from
the Tyrol's side, rolling in a huge dense volume
over the corsair-vessel, prevented me from im-
mediately ascertaining the amount of damage
done. The cloud cleared away : a glance thrown
upward, showed me that the two tall tapering
masts were uninjured — but a sail was fluttering
and flapping violently — and several ropes, also cut
by the Austrian shot, were streaming like pennants
in the breeze. A look cast along the deck instan-
taneously made me aware that more serious conse-
quences had there resulted from the last Austrian
broadside : two of the Greek sailors lay dead ;
and another, dangerously wounded, was being car-
ried away by his comrades. The shot too had
pierced the hull in several places : but with incre-
dible despatch Durazzo learnt the extent of these
casualties, and gave his orders, still calm, clear, and
firm, in accordance therewith.

Half-a-dozen of the Greek seamen were speedily
up in the rigging : the fluttering sail was caught
and made fast again to its spar — some ropes were
spliced — new ones were deftly rove where the neces •
sity was urgent — and simultaneously with all these
proceedings the reloading of the artillery went on.
Incredibly exciting was the whole scene !

After a brief pause— during which the Athene
stood rapidly away from the Tyrol— a mandate
went forth from Durazzo's lips ; and an immensf
brazier, or portable furnace, was brought upon th«
deck. Into this a shot was placed: but scarcely
was the proceeding thus far accomplished, when
the thrilling interest of the scene presented a new
phase— or rather a new episode. All in an in-
stant some one rushed up the stairs from the
cabins below ; and brandishing a cutlass, he darted
towards Durazzo. This was the Austrian officer,
— who, as I subsequently learnt, had abruptly
attacked and overpowered the sentinel mounting
guard upon him at the door of his state-room.
The young Greek captain might at the instant
have discharged one of his pistols at his assailant ;
but chivalrously disdaining to take such an advan-
tage of his unequally armed foe, he drew his sword
from its sheath. There was a rush of several men
towards the Austrian to seize upon him; but quick
and peremptory was the command issued from Du-
razzo's lips — and by its effect I comprehended its
nature. The men all fell back in a moment : and
his weapon clashed violently with that of the Aus-
trian. But not a minute did the combat last: the
young Greek was as skilful in wielding his sword
as he was experienced and intrepid in commanding
his gallant vessel : the Austrian could not touch
him — and goaded with maddening rage, he sprang
forward to close with his active enemy. At that
instant there was another discharge of cannon
from the Tyrol : the dense volume of smoke rolling
to windward, enveloped the corsair- vessel ; and
when it cleared away, I beheld the Austrian officer
stretched a corpse at the feet of Durazzo, who was
calmly wiping his sword ere returning it to its
sheath.

The fight went on for another half-hour : but
little damage was sustained by the Athene — while
terrible havoc was committed on the remaining
rigging of the Tyrol, — lying, as she was, unable to
manceuvre,and therefore presenting a comparatively
easy target for the gunners of the corsair. The
shot in the brazier was now red-hot : Durazzo
himself directed the discharge of the ordnance on the
pivot: and great though the sentiment of curiosity
naturally was amongst the crew, they were too
well disciplined to pause in the midst of their own
proceedings. The shot was fired — the smoke en-
veloped the Athene — the roar of the gun was
quickly followed by so terrific a din that it seemed
as if a huge volcano had burst forth in the very
midst of the sea, or as if ten thousand pieces of
the heaviest artillery had poured forth their
thunder-voices all at the same instant. The very
brain appeared to be riven with the sound — which
likewise produced an effect so stunning, almost
stupefying, that I staggered back and should have
fallen were it not that I encountered the seat above
the raised skylight of the cabin. Methought that
through the smoke I beheld the quick glancing of
flames in the direction of the Tyrol : and no doubt
I did — for I subsequently learnt that the blaze was
seen by others on board the Athene. There was
the falling of a shower of myriads of splinters;
and when I looked in the place where I had last
seen the Austrian frigate, there was nothing but a
quantity of blackened timbers floating on the sea,
—but a terrific cloud of portentous blackness roll-
n.j away overhead !

JOSEPH WIIMOT ; OR, THE MEMOIES OF A MAN-SERVANT

241

I sank down upon the seat in consternation : I
felt as if I were in the midst of a stupendous
dream. The Tjrol existed no longer !

From the deck of the corsair-vessel went up to
heaven a shout of triumph, far more exulting than
that which had commenced this memorable com-
bat. Again and again it rose, that pealing shout !
— it rolled in waves of mightiest sound — it sus-
tained the deafening sensation produced upon me
by the tremendous explosion constituting the awful
catastrophe. At length that continuous huzzah
of triumph ceased — those peals of exultation died
away : and I beheld Durazzo leaning against the
mizen.mast receiving the congratulations of his
officers.

The event seemed scarcely credible. Here was
this little vessel floating in safety upon the Medi-
terranean— her tall tapering spars uninjured — the
ominous black flag waving high above her : while
that superb stately ship had ceased to be! Well

indeed might the pirates triumph — well indeed
could I comprehend the feeling which sent up a
glow of exultation to the handsome countenance of
their chief, animating him with a god-like beauty.
Oh, if it had been a just and a good cause in
which this magnificent victory was obtained, I
could have sprung forward — I could have caught
him by the hand — I could have fervidly congratu-
lated him on his splendid success ! But it was far
otherwise. My soul was exceeding sorrowful —
my heart sickened within me ; and moreover I was
dismayed and appalled at the triumph of the law«^
less band. My last hope in respect to the safety
of Annabel and her relatives, was scattered to the
winds : it had exploded along with the Tyrol itself.
It appeared at the instant as if the celestial powers
themselves had withdrawn their countenance from
the side of innocence and right, so as to allow the
fiends of darkness to ensure triumph to the cause
of guilt and wrong-doing.

212

JOSEPH WILMOT; OE, THE MEMOIBS OB A MAN-SEEVANT.

My head sank upon my breast : I heard myself
called by name — but had not the heart nor courage
nor curiosity to look up, A second time was my
name spoken ; and then, as I slowly raised my
eyes, 1 beheld Durnzzo standing before me.

" Mr. Wilmot," he said in a grave tone, " I
know that your sympathies were with the Austrian
frigate — and naturally so. Think not therefore
for a single moment that I am capable of exulting
over you, or that I can ask you to share in the
feeling of triumph which inspires every one else
on board the Athene. I should not even now in-
trude upon your reverie, were it not that I have a
communication to make."

"A communication?" I said, with all the list-
lessness of apathy : for I felt so numbed and stu-
pefied that it seemed as if every connecting link
between myself and the aiTaiis of the world, had
been suddenly severed.

"Yes — a communication," repeated Durazzo,
"and which I am afraid will still farther afflict
you. But it is better you should hear it at
once "

" Still farther afflict me ?" I ejaculated, with
a suddenly reviving sense of interest. " What
do you mean ?"

" I mean," was the yoifcg Greek's response,
"that Cosmo has ceased to exist !"

" What !" I exclaimed, starting up from my
seat with the blood boiling in my veins : " have
your men in the flush of victory •"

"Silence, sir!" ejaculated Durazzo, in the
sternest tone and with the haughtiest air of in-
dignation. "If any one else had ventured to

insinuate But no matter!" — and thus checking

himself, he went on to observe solemnly and
gravely, "Cosmo was killed by a splinter caused
by a shot which penetrated the fore-cabin, where
he was confined."

" Cosmo dead !" I murmured, shocked at the
intelligence : then instantaneously recollecting the
imputation I had thrown out, I said, " Pardon me.
Captain Durazzo — I confess that I was wrong "

'" Say not another word upon the subject !" in-
terrupted the young Greek, with frank generosity.
" I can make every allowance for your feelings — and
you see that I am doing so."

I descended to my state-room, where I shut my-
self in to reflect in mournfulness upon everything
that had occurred.

CHAPTER CXXVIII.

THE YOUNG PAGE.

At one o'clock the youthful page brought me in
my luncheon ; and I saw that he regarded me in
a peculiar manner, as if with a deep compassion-
ating interest, and likewise as if he were desirous
to speak to me, but did not like to initiate a con-
versation. I was therefore determined to break
the ice in this respect.

"Were joa alarmed," I inquired in a gentle
voice, " at the conflict which took place just
now ?"

" Oh, no— not alarmed !" ejaculated the youth,
his dark eyes flashing with a sudden fire. " I
would have borne my part in it— but the captain

says I am too young. Besides, it is not the first

time "

" But is it possible," I asked, "that your mind
is already settled upon leading the existence of a
pirate ?"

"Wherefore not ?" demanded the youth quickly.
" It is a life of heroism — a life of daring and of
glory; and one such deed as that which Durazzo
has this forenoon accomplished, is sufficient to hand
down his name to posterity !"

"Yes !" I said, in a tone of grave remonstrance :
"but is not the renown a tarnished one? is it
not an ignoble glory ? and are you not setting up
a false idol for your worship ?"

" In your eyes it may seem so," responded the
youthful page; " but in mine it is different. Oh, in
my estimation the existence of Durazzo is an envi-
able one ! — to be the commander of this beautiful
vessel — to stand upon her deck with the conscious-
ness of the supreme authority which he exercises —
to issue his mandates with the certamty that they
will be obeyed — to know likewise that his name is
terrible, and that the deed which he has this day
accomplished will give him a formidable renown so
soon as he may think fit to publish it to the world,
— all this constitutes an existence that is enviable
indeed i"

The youthful figure dilated before me, as the
naturally soft musical voice thrilled with the exul-
tation of the heart's feelings : his eyes flashed still
brighter fires — and while I pitied and was even
shocked, yet I could not help admiring at the same
time. Methought, too, that if this were a speci-
men of the materials which lay in reserve to fill
up gaps amongst the corsair-crew, it was indeed
no wonder that the Athene was so formidable or
that such feats should be performed as the one
which I had within the last few hours witnessed.

" I wish to speak to you, sir," continued the
youthful page after a pause, " for the purpose of
expressing my thanks for your considerate kind-
ness "

" In what respect ?" I demanded With astonish-
ment.

"Captain Durazzo failed not to inform me,"
continued the picturesquely attired young Greek,
" that even amidst the excitement of your own
feelings and affairs this morning, you bestowed a
thought upon me, and stipulated that if a parti-
cular eventuality occurred I was to accompany you
in the boat. For this, sir, accept my sincerest
thanks. Though I be imbued with sentiaients
utterly repugnant to your sympathies in many
respects, yet I am not unsusceptible of the feeling
of gratitude."

" You have known Durazzo," I said, "for a long
time?"

" Yes — I was at school with him," responded
the youth. " He is a few years older than myself;
and he protected me at the seminary against the
ill-treatment which the elder lads were wont to
display towards the younger. From the very first
I conceived a brother's attachment for Constantine.
At school he was not like other boys : he never
used his strength to tyrannize over the weak — but
he protected them. Endowed with a rare intelli-
gence, he exulted not in his proficiency — but took
a pleasure in assisting the laggard mind to master
difficult lessons. His ideas were the noblest and
I the loftiest ; and yet blended therewith was ever a

JOSEPH WIXMOT; OB, THE MEM0IE3 OP A MAN-SEBTANT.

243

gentle tone of romantic thouglitfulness — if you
understand what I mean."

" I do. But continue," I said : " your descrip-
tion interests me. Would it be too much to

inquire "

" How Constantine became a corsair?" exclaimed
the youth. " Ob, no ! it is not too much— for I
am not bound to secresy upon the point. He
was intended for the bar : but when he learned
how the vilest chicaneries entered into Greek
jurisprudence — how counsels sold their clients, and
gloried in the shame that gave them wealth — he
turned from the thought of the forum with loath-
ing and disgust. The death of his parents when
ho was only nineteen left him his own master
witl\ a small fortune. He fancied h roving life —
he loved the sea — but not having the patience to
enter the navy and toil through the various grades
until he could arrive at a position of rank and com-
mand, he resolved to render himself the master of
a vessel in a moment. He purchased a small trader
—freighted it with merchandise— and sailed for
Alexandria. In the Levant he was boarded by a
pirate — a cruiser from Tripoli, and was plundered
of all he possessed. His vessel was taken from
him : he and his crew were landed on a Ijgrren part
of Syria— and thus were they left- They had to
work their passage — Constantine himself as a com-
mon sailor — back to Greece. On his arrival at
Athens, he learned that by the death of some distant
relative another small fortune had become his heri-
tage. His resolve was promptly taken. The most
celebrated shipwrights in Greece had just completed
the Athene by order of the Government ; and it
was intended as a cruiser to protect the commercial
marine from pirates. King Otho's treasury was
bankrupt : and the shipbuilders refused to accept
the valueless paper money for their beautiful vessel.
Constantino was informed that if he purchased it
and fitted it out as cruiser, the government would
give him a roving commission, with a lieutenant's
rank, that he might carry out the purpose for
which the Athene was originally designed. Under
these representations, Constantine embarked the
whole of his newly acquired fortune in the pur-
chase of the Athene. No sooner had he done this
— or rather I should say no sooner was it equipped
and manned — when the government authorities
came on board to claim and seize the vessel as one
belonging to the King. Durazzo remonstrated — i
but all in vain. He was told that he might take, [
in the valueless paper money, the price of his ship;
but that he must leave it, as a captain in the Greek
navy — a nephew of one of the corrupt Ministers-
had already been appointed to its command."
" This was truly infamous !" I exclaimed.
" Ah ! you acknowledge," cried the youthful
page, satisfaction beaming in his eyes, " that the
provocation was immense ? Listen to what fol-
lowed. Constantine Durazzo was about to obey
the mandate of tyrannical authority — when his
crew gathered around him, and plainly intimated
that they only awaited his orders to fling the Go- |
vernment officials into their boat and thus leave •
him master of the Athene. Some of this crew
■were the sailors who had previously served under
him, and who had experienced the generosity of
his character. They loved him ; and the new men ;
were already imbued with the same spirit. The 1
opportunity was irresistible— the temptation was I

immense. Constantine gave the signal — the Go-
1 vernment authorities who came to seize the ship,
[ were sent adrift in their boat : the Athene spread
her canvass, and sailed majestically out of tha
port. But by that deed," added the youthful
' page, " Constantine Durazzo in a moment became
i an outlaw !"

"Ah!" I exclaimed; "I always thought that
there must have been some cogent reason in tlio
first instance to set Constantine Durazzo at vari-
ance with the laws of his country !"

'• The laws of our country," continued the

youth bitterly, " are precisely those which are best

adapted to render men lawless ! — they are con-

j ceived in despotism and executed with tyranny !

It were enough to make one ashamed to be a

Greek, were it not for such noble exceptions as that

I which Conatantine Durazzo presents to the view.

I But I will finish what I have to say about him.

I Having been plundered by a corsair, and then un-

! justly outlawed by an infamous government, it

1 was no wonder if Durazzo should take a sugges-

j tion from his first calamity. Indeed, no other

course remained open to him. The avenues of

all legitimate trade were closed against him ; and

j even if it were otherwise, he had no capital left

i whereby to freight his vessel. He had a number

j of mouths to feed, and could not be inactive. His

resolve was accordingly taken ; and on sailing

■ away from the coast of Greece, Durazzo became a

' pirate."

"Were you amongst his crew in the first in-
j stance ?" I asked.

" No," replied the youth : " I was then only
' fourteen. It was a year afterwards — and conse-
quently something more than about a twelve-
' month back— that being left an orphan, and
almost penniless — without a friend too in the

whole world to assist me at least as I thought

at the time 1 went to Smyrna, with the hope

of obtaining a clerk's situation there. At Smyrna
I met Constantine : his vessel was in the port,
where its true character was totally unsuspected.
Mutual explanations ensued ; and I came on
board the Athene. About a fortnight afterwards
we fell in with that very Tripolitan corsair vessel
which had proved the ruin of Durazzo's first
venture. A terrible battle ensued : it lasted for
five or six hours, at the expiration of which the
ships fouled, and Constantine boarded the enemy
at the head of his men. The victory was com-
plete : half the Tripolitans fell in the encounter
— the survivors were landed on precisely the same
spot where Durazzo and his crew had formerly
been placed ashore; and the cruiser of Tripoli was
scuttled. That was the vengeance which Con-
stantine took upon the authors of his ruin ; and
his extraordinary daring — as well as his skill, his
calm intrepidity, and his perfect self-possession
in the engagement — riveted the bonds of respect,
confidence, and admiration which attached his
crew unto him."

The youthful page, having finished his interest-
ing narrative, was compelled to withdraw for the
performance of his duties elsewhere ; and I re-
mained alone to ponder upon the tale I had just
heard. I saw that the greatest allowances were
to be made for Durazzo ; and I was not altogethci
displeased with the impression thus made upon
my mind. I recollected likewise the terms of dis<

244

JOSEPH WIIMOT; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-8ERTANT.

gust in which he had spoken of Lanover, and the
visible loathing with which he had imperiously
waved him back into his cabin, when his hideous
countenance peered above the staircase just before
the engagement.

" Surely," I said to myself, " Durazzo, with his
generous feelings, will not persevere in carrying
out the designs of a wretch whom he despises and
abhors ? I will again appeal to him ! After the
exploit of this day he must stand higher, if pos-
sible, in the estimation of his crew ; and they will
be all the more ready to take the law from his
lips— no matter how their usual regulations may
otherwise affect the question. Yes — I will appeal
to Durazzo ! — I will appeal to him once again !
It is in the hour of victory that men of noble
natures are most likely to perform generous
deeds."

I ascended to the deck — where as much activity
and bustle, though of a different kind, now pre-
vailed as before the fight. The Athene had been
lying to ever since the conflict, that the requisite
repairs might be accomplished : there were several
men in the rigging — the sounds of the carpenters'
hammers were heard coming from the fore-part of
the vessel, where the shot had penetrated — and
others were similarly restoring the bulwarks
through which two or three cannon balls had
crashed. But this was not all. Over the sides
planks were suspended in several places ; and
those men who could be spared from other avoca-
tion, were busy in painting the exterior of the
vessel. Durazzo superintended in person every-
thing that was going on ; and both himself and
his crew appeared as calm as if nothing extraor-
dinary had taken place. The long piece of ord-
nance, whose red-hot shot caused the explosion of
the Tyrol, had been lowered into the hold again :
the carronades were all in order ; and the evidences
of the conflict were already as much as possible
effaced from the deck. The black flag no longer
waved above the Athene : the Greek colours
floated in the place of that sinister emblem.

Upon the deck lay four ominous-looking objects
—human forms enveloped in banners ready for
sepulture in the deep waters of the Mediterranean.
These were the Austrian ofiicer, the unfortunate
Cosmo, and the two Greek sailors who fell in the
conflict. I Leaved a sigh as I thought of poor
Cosmo, who, instead of obtaining a competency for
life by bringing about the capture of the terrible
pu-ate, had been himself captured by that pirate,
and had met his death in the very vessel which he
had studied to hand over to others !

Almost immediately after I had ascended to the
deck, a muffled drum beat; and the men came
Hocking from every part towards the spot where
Durazzo stood. The youthful page made his ap-
pearance from the cabin — Lanover likewise crawled
up from below — and this time was not rebuked by
the corsair-chief. The humpback's hideous coun-
tenance showed by its expression that he had not
passed a very comfortable forenoon : he seemed
cowed and abashed ; and instead of leering at me
with his former malignity or insolent triumph, he
studiously avoided meeting my gaze.

The drum had beaten as a signal for the obse-
quies of the four individuals who lay upon the deck
enveloped in the nautical banners. Durazzo doffed
his red fez— an example which was instantaneously

followed; and every head was in a moment bared.
Then the corsair-chief read from a book the funeral
service according to the ritual of the Greek Church ;
and though I could not understand the language of
those prayers, yet I failed not to comprehend the
deep impressiveness of the tone in which they were
recited. At a certain part towards the close, a
dozen of the crew took as many muskets ; and
when their two slain comrades were consigned to
the deep, they discharged the volley in honour o£
the dead. Quickly did they reload ; and three vol-
lies of blank cartridges completed that portion of
the ceremony. The parting prayers were read for
the Austrian lieutenant as well as for Cosmo : but
when their corpses were lowered over the vessel's
side, no musketry was discharged on their account.
Throughout the whole proceeding the deportment
of the Greek crew was in every way consistent with
the religious solemnity of the scene.

When it was over the men dispersed again to
their different avocations — the page retired to the
cabin— and I was about to accost Durazzo, when
the movement was anticipated by Lanover. I was
naturally anxious to hear what the vile humpback
had to say to the pirate-chief; and turning my
back towanls them, I affected to be looking over
the bulwaflis at the sea.

" May I ask. Captain Durazzo," said Mr. Lan-
over, " wherefore your demeanour is so cold and
distant towards me ? In a word, if you think I
have given any offence "

" Offence?" echoed the young Greek scornfully,
as if disdaining the bare idea of being sufficiently
moved as to take offence at any thing which the
humpback could do. " No, sir ! I am not offended
with you. Perhaps I may not altogether relish the
business which is being undertaken on your behalf;
— perhaps if I had been applied to in the first
instance I should have rejected the overture. But
I had voluntarily abdicated my command for a
season to my first lieutenant Notaras • and there-
fore it was not for me subsequently to overrule a
compact which he had thought fit to make. It is
true that possessed of supreme power as I am, in
certain respects, I might have set aside that agree-
ment : but I did not choose to interfere with the
delegated authority which Notaras exercised in my
absence. Therefore, having once given my assent,
the compact becomes inviolable according to the
laws which rule our little community. If I have
entered into these explanations, Mr. Lanover," con-
tinued Durazzo, " it is for the purpose of relieving
you from any alarm as to unfair dealing towards
yourself — but at the same time to make you clearly
understand that though the treaty shall be carried
out to the very letter, I like it as little as a man
who is accustomed to grand and lofty exploits
might be supposed to relish a transaction of a
meaner and baser character. Now, sir, you have
your response."

"With these words, the corsair-chief turned
haughtily upon his heel, and as I at the same in-
stant looked round from over the bulwark, I beheld
the humpback retreating towards the stairs of the
cabin. I could not help thinking that Durazzo
had purposely given Mr. Lanover those elaborate
explanations with the knowledge that I should
overhear them, and for the purpose of forestalling
any request I might proffer in the form of a re-
newed appeal to his generosity. My heart had

JOSEPH WILMOT; OB, THR MEMOIBS OP A MAtf-SEKVAVT.

24-

Sank within me— the hope which had led me upon
deck gradually died out of my breast, while the
corsair-chief was addressing himself 'in such audible
tones and with such measured precision to the
humpback. For a few instants I was utterly dis-
couraged : but as the image of the beloved Annabel
rose up before me, I resolved to try one last
effort.

" Captain Durazzo," I said, approaching the
pirate-chief, " may I without a single syllable of
preface express the hope "

" Mr. Wilmot," interrupted Constantine, " I
am willing and delighted to converse with you on
any subject, save that one which admits of no far-
ther argument. You have heard," he continued
significantly and impressively, " what I have just
said to Mr. Lanover ; and I can assure you that I
have spoken the truth. It is therefore my wish"

he paused for an instant, and said, " You

will not compel me to use the word command,
that this topic be no more touched upon between
us."

I knew not what further to advance -. I vras a
prisoner and powerless. Had I been in a different
situation — free and unshackled — I should have
burst forth in violent denunciation of the false notion
of honour which seamed to prompt Durazzo to
keep faith with the detestable humpback. But,
alas ! I was not in a position thus to give vent to
my feelings — while policy forbade me from coming
to a useless rupture with the corsair in whose pre-
sence I was.

In the evening I had another conversation with
Constantine Durazzo on the deck of his vessel ; and
some portion of which it may be necessary to lay
before the reader.

" You see, Mr. Wilmot," observed the young
corsair-chief, after some discourse on indifferent
topics, " the accidents of battle have singularly
favoured my views, and the events of a few brief
hours have swept away many obstacles from my
path. The Tyrol which menaced me in more ways
than one, has ceased to exist : those who on board
might be enabled to give a description of the ter-
rible pirate -captain, are no longer denizens of this
world. The Austrian officer who was on board the
Athene, and whom I should have been compelled
to retain my prisoner for several months, until my
cruise was completed, and also until I had been
back to Italy to fetch my bride and bear her far
away — that officer has gone down into the deep.
Cosmo — who, if set at large, could equally have done
me a mischief— is likewise numbered with the dead :
and who now can tell the tale of what I am or what
I have been to the ears of Signor Portici and
Leonora, unless it be yourself ?"

I remained silent : I knew not what response to
give ; but I confess that I was much tempted to
propose a compromise and swear to inviolable
secresy with respect to his antecedents, if he on
the other hand would renounce the cause of Lan-
over. To this proceeding I was all the more in-
clined after the narrative I had heard from the
lips of the young page, and which had certainly
tended to place Durazzo in the more favourable
light of society's victim instead of in that of a wilful
offender against society's laws. But still there
was the damning fact that Durazzo was a corsair —
and though perhaps a glorious one, yet embellished
only with a tarnished renown !

" I am not pressing you for a decision, Mr.
Wilmot," continued Durazzo, " with respect to the
conduct you may hereafter pursue in reference to
myself. I have merely sought to direct your
attention to the facts which I have enumerated, in
order that you may include them amongst the sub-
jects for your deliberation when the time shall come
that your decision must be given."

" You are resolved, therefore. Captain Durazzo,"
I said, thinking to make a new appeal to him
through the medium of his pride, — " you are re-
solved that the great, and I may even add the bril-
liant exploit which you have this day achieved,
shall be followed up by an enterprise of the meanest,
the paltriest, and the most cowardly description ?"

" Mr. Wilmot !" ejaculated Constantine, stop-
ping suddenly short, and fixing his burning regards
upon me, while his face was as pale as a sheet,
and his lips were quivering — " you are the first
person who has ever dared to address the pirate-
chief in such terms as these upon his own quarter-
deck !"

" If the time should ever come. Captain
Durazzo," I responded, firmly yet calmly, " when
you would have to tell to Leonora the his^ory of
the past, would you include amongst its details the
exploit of carrying off a feeble old man and two
innocent inoffensive ladies ? Would you confess
this, I ask, to your Leonora at a moment when
circumstances might possibly render all explana-
tions necessary, and when you would doubtless
wish to stand before her in a light as little un-
favourable as possible ?"

" You have put the hypothesis to me," an-
swered Durazzo : " let mo in my turn put one to
you. If by accident you were led in your wander-
ings to a habitation where dwelt a happy and a
loving couple — and if you were in possesion of
some secret relative to the husband which was un-
known to the wife, but the knowledge of which
would suddenly destroy the fabric of her bliss, and
perchance deal her a death-blow — would you, I
ask, Mr. Wilmot, be guilty of such useless cruelty
as to reveal that secret ?"

" Assuredly not !" I unhesitatingly exclaimed.
" But permit me to remind you that the case you
have supposed is not a fair parallel with your own.
You should have asked me what I would do if I
beheld a young and confiding woman about to quit
the happy home of her relative, to mate herself
with one whose real character was unknown to
her "

" But what if this one," suddenly interrupted
Durazzo, " intended, as soon as circumstances
would permit, to renounce his lawless proceedings
and endeavour by all the rest of his life to atone
for the past? — what if it were his purpose to
devote himself to the sole duty of ensuring the

happiness of a beloved and loving one in this

case, Mr. Wilmot, what would you do .''"

I gave no response : but I again confess that
my inclinations urged me to propose a compro-
mise with Durazzo. I walked silently by his
side — my looks bent down upon ths deck — my
mind absorbed in its reflections. Darkness had
gathered around the vessel — a lamp was flaming
above the cabin skylight ; and as we were passing
it, I happened to raise my eyes towards Durazzo's
countenance, as I was about to make some obser-
vation. I saw that he was regarding me with a

peculiar earnestness ; and he said in a low deep
voice, " I think, Mr. Wilmot, it must be acknow-
ledged that wc have made an impression upon
each other ?"

" Frankly is the avowal made on my part," I
eagerly ejaculated, " that you have made an im-
pression upon me ! Can I hope that I have done
the same with reference to yourself?"

Constantino Durazzo gave no immediate
answer : it now appeared to be his turn to reflect
profoundly, and mine to study hia features the
while.

"Wilmot," at length he said, again speaking
in a low deep voice, " I cannot forget the friend-
ship I conceived for you during tho first period of
our acquaintance. Neither can I forget the gene-
rous way in which you spoke to me this morning
before the fight. You yourself may judge what is
my opinion of that vile intriguing humpback : you
can perhaps understand also how great is my regret
that I in the first instance assented to the compact
which Lieutenant Notaras made with that man.
I had gone too far to retreat when I wished to do

80. But however," he suddenly interrupted

himself, " I can say no more for the present. I
feel that this conversation has again brought us
nearer to each other than we were before — and I
rejoice !"

He grasped my hand— shook it warmly — and
hastened away to another part of the vessel. I
descended to my state-room in a somewhat happier
frame of mind than I had previously experienced.
Hope had arisen within me : the heart of Durazzo
was touched — that appeal which I made through
the medium of his pride was not without its effect.
I considered that there was now indeed a prospect
of Lanover's scheme being ultimately baffled
through the medium of the very one by whose
agency he had hoped to carry it out. In this
improved condition of mind I passed the remainder
of the evening : and retiring to rest, slept soundly
and tranquilly.

CHAPTER OXXIX.

THE ATHENE OFF IBGHOBN.

On awaking early in the morning, I speedily per-
formed my toilet 5 and ascending upon deck, found,
as I had anticipated, that the Athene was anchored
off the town of Leghorn. This flourishing Tuscan
seaport possesses two harbours, — the outer one being
of considerable size, with a pier nearly a mile in
length, and capable of accommodating vessels of
tolerable burden — but the inner harbour being
only fit for the reception of small craft. The road-
stead is admirable for safe anchorage ; and there is
invariably a considerable amount of shipping both
there and in the harbours. The Athene might
easily have run into the outer harbour, considering
the depth of water she drew: but it suited Durazzo's
purpose to drop his anchor in the roadstead.
There were three vessels of war lying there at the
same time ; namely, a sloop and frigate belonging
to the French navy, and a frigate with the English
colours flying. I natui-ally thought that the Athene
had come into a very dangerous neighbourhood :
and scarcely had this idea passed through my

mind, when Durazzo's well known voice falling
upon my ear, said, " All suitable precautions are
taken."

I turned round, and gazed upon the pirate-chief:
I could not understand the precautions to which
he alluded.

" We belong for the nonce," ho said, smiling,
" to the Royal Navy of Greece — and we are upon
the Italian coast in search of a terrible pirate-
vessel called the Athene. But come," he added,
again smiling : " and you shall see what I mean."

A mandate was issued : the boatswain's pipe
rang through the vessel — half-a-<iozen of the
sailors, who I now perceived were dressed completely
as man-of-war's men, sprang into a boat by tha
side of the schooner: and Durazzo beckoned me
to accompany him. We entered the boat; and as
it was pulled away from the Athene, I perceived
that her hull, which I had previously known as
completely black, was now painted in a way that
utterly disguised her. The long broad white streak
dotted with the black ports, denoted the man-of-
war : above this streak there was a narrower line
of an orange yellow; and below the streak there
was a line of red. This combiuation of colours
imparted to the Athene a lively appearance, as
well as delineating the gracefully sweeping outlines
of her shape.

" This is the way," said Durazzo to me " that
Greek vessels ol war are painted. But behold !"
he added, as the boat shot under the stern of the
schooner : " the Athene has changed her name for
the time being— and she is now the Otho !"

Sure enough, the name of the King of Greece
was painted on the stern of the Athene, — which
had otherwise undergone a transmogrification, so
far as colour went : forasmuch as instead of
being now altogether black, it had a great quan-
tity of white, red, and yellow fancifully laid on.
The Greek colours were floating above the ship ;
and as the pirate-chief surveyed it with looks of
pride, he said to me, " Think you that yon ships-
of-war will take us for what we are ?"

"And if the news of the destruction of tho
Tyrol should reach them," I said, — "may not sus-
picion be excited ?"

"Who can tell that tale except ourselves?"
asked Durazzo. " Where is the Tyrol ? where are
those who were on board it ?"

Without waiting for a response, Constantino
signalled to his men to pull round to the oppo-
site side of the Athene from which we had started ;
and we speedily stood upon the schooner's deck
again. Almost immediately afterwards the men
were ordered to their guns ; and the roar of artil-
lery soon swept over the sea. Tho Athene was
firing a salute of twenty-one in compliment to the
flags of England and France.

" Now," said Durazzo to me, when the thunder
of the guns had ceased, " we shall see whether any
suspicion be entertained on board those ships. If
so, they will send boats to us before acknowledging
our salute, to ascertain who we are — or, in other
words, to become more intimately acquainted with
us. But if we have lulled them into a complete

absence of suspicion Ah ! it is all right ! there

goes the salute !"

As the corsair-chief gave utterance to these last
ejaculatory words, a wreath of smoke suddenly
burst forth from the side of the English frigate ;

JOSEPH VPILMOT ; OR, THB MEMOIES OP A MAN-SEEVANT.

247

and the din of the cannon thundered over the
water. The French ships commenced their salute
iilmost immediately afterwards ; and Durazzo's
countenance expressed a calmly exultant satisfac-
tion.

Scarcely were the salutes finished, when Mr.
Lanover made his appearance upon deck, with a
sealed letter in his hand.

" I think, Mr. Wilmot," said Captain Durazzo,
addressing me with a certain air of formality
which I knew full well to be assumed, " your break-
fast is by this time ready."

1 took the hint, and descended to my state-room,
where the young page was in prompt attendance
upon me. I was at no loss to conjecture what
missive it was that Mr. Lanover had brought up
in his hand : it no doubt contained his instructions
to his confederate — or rather instrument Dor-
chester— and was written in that cipher which the
humpback had shown him at the coffee-house in
Civita Yecchia. I now felt that matters must be
coming to a crisis, and that Durazzo would
speedily have to decide whether he intended to
continue succouring the projects of Lanover, or
whether he would by some means or another con-
trive to baffle them. I felt very, very anxious ;
and I thought it quite probable that the day
would not end without relieving me from suspense
either in respect to the best or the worst.

Having finished my breakfast, I returned to the
deck : but Durazzo was no longer there — neither
was Mr. Lanover. Had the corsair-chief gone on
shore ? had he volunteered to become the bearer
of Lanover'a missive ? and did he intend to keep
it back, 60 as to favour my hopes and aspira-
tions ? I felt exceedingly anxious ; and the longer
I thought upon the whole subject, the less did I
comprehend how Durazzo, if he meant to prove
friendly to me, could frustrate the designs of
Lanover without suffering the humpback to per-
ceive that ha was thus purposely treated. While
I was in the midst of my meditations, the corsair-
chief made his appearance upon the deck : he had
not therefore gone to the town. Without imme-
diately entering into conversation with me, he
busied himself with such details as necessarily fell
under his supervision as the commander of the
ship. '

1 walked about, wondering how everything was
to end, — endeavouring to buoy myself up with
hope, yet trembling lest I should be disappointed :
and thus another hour passed. It was now about
eleven in the forenoon ; and Durazzo came and
rejoined me in my walk. He spoke only of in-
different matters, — until at length I began to fear
that the impression made upon him on the pre-
vious evening had passed away, and ihat he was
once more resolved to observe his compact with
Lanover. He seemed to penetrate what was pass-
ing in my mind; and stopping short, he looked
over the bulwark in the direction of Leghorn, —
pointing thither likewise, as if desiring me to
note particular objects of interest.

"1 have not forgotten, Wilmot," he said,
" what took place between us last evening : but I
have a difficult part to perform. Lanover has
written his instructions to the agent whom he is
employing in that town ; and I was compelled to
send the letter on shore. We must trust to the
chapter of accidents. Frankly speaking, I hope

Lanover will be baffled : but it must not appear as
if I plotted against him. Great as the confidence
is which my ofiicers and crew now repose in me
they would become equally full of suspicion— they
would think that if I were capable of proving
false to a compact so solemnly made, I might even
to suit my own interest betray them should an
emergency arise."

" A thousand thanks," I answered, though
cautiously avoiding any outward betrayal of ex-
citement, " for the hope which you have given me !"
" Let as not be seen too much together ?" said
Durazzo. " Lanover is as wily as a serpent — and
he already wonders wherefore I so frequently con-
verse with you."

Taking the hint, I walked away to another part
of the vessel ; and for the next hour Durazzo went
below again. It was about mid-day when a boat,
which had been sent ashore, returned to the
Athene ; and I perceived that the mate, who was
in command, was dressed entirely in plain clothes.
I thersfore concluded that he had been the bearer
of Lanover's despatch to Mr. Dorchester. As I
looked over the ship's side towards Leghorn — the
Athene being about two miles distant from the
buildings of the town itself, though barely a mile
from the entrance of the mole — I said to myself,
" How short a space separates me from my be-
loved Annabel ! What if at this moment she be
looking upon the sea, and contemplating this
vessel ? Ah, how little can she suspect that I am
here a captive for the present— but strenuously
labouring, or at least yearning for the assurance
of her safety ! Perhaps one of the very buildings
which I am now regarding, may be the hotel
where she and her relatives reside ?"

And then I again wondered how everything was
to terminate. Presently I perceived a galley
coming from the direction of the English frigate,
and evidently pulling towards the Athene. As it
drew nearer, I distinguished an officer seated in
the stern ; and by the single epaulette on his
shoulder, I knew him to be a lieutenant. As the
galley approached, the second lieutenant of the
Athene descended into the cabin, evidently to an-
nounce the circumstance to Captain Durazzo : for
the corsair-chief immediately afterwards came upon
deck. He wore his handsome uniform, which was
that of a Captain-Commander in the Greek service :
but on the present occasion the red fez with its
purple tassel, was discarded — and a cocked hat
with gold tassels, was now worn in its place. He
beckoned me towards him ; and in the presence of
his lieutenant, said with a cold formal air of autho-
rity, " Mr. Wilmot, an officer from the English
frigate is coming on board, doubtless for some pur-
pose of courtesy on the part of his commander. It
will be sufficient if you solemnly pledge your word
to remain profoundly silent, and to keep at a dis-
tance during our interview. Otherwise I shall be
compelled to consign you to your state-room, under
the guard of a sentinel."

While thus speaking with that air which I knew
to be necessarily assumed in the presence of his
lieutenant, Constantino Durazzo seized an oppor-
tunity to make me a rapid sign, to the effect that
I was to give the pledge demanded of me as a
proof of my continued docile resignation to the
thraldom in which I was placed.

"Although," I accordingly answered, assuming

248

JOSEPH ■WILMOT ; OE, THE MBMOIBS OF A MAN-SEHVANT.

n certain spirit of haughtiness on my own part, [
" I should assuredly avail myself of any means i
■which circumstances might opportunely seem to
present, in order to effect my own aims, — yet in :
the presence of the alternatives which you 'have
placed before me, I can only say that preferring
the fresh air of the deck to the close atmosphere '
of my cabin, I accept the condition which leaves
me in the enjoyment of the former."

Durazzo bowed with seeming coldness; and I t
retired completely to the stern of the vessel. In
about five minutes the galley came alongside : the ,
English lieutenant ascended to the deck of the
Athene ; and Captain Durazzo, attended by his
own ofiicers, went forward to receive him. The
lieutenant's behaviour was most courteous ; and I
was therefore persuaded he entertained not the i
Blightest suspicion of the character of that ship on ,
whose deck he stood. That he likewise spoke a j
language which was intelligible to Durazzo, was
evident from the fluent and facile manner in which :
they at once began conversing together. The
English officer looked about him on all sides : he
swept his glances along the deck — he bent his
gaze upward amidst the web-like tracery of the
rigging — and I could judge from the manner in
which he addressed Durazzo, that he compli-
mented him upon the elegant as well as seaman-
like appearance of his vessel.

The party advanced slowly, conversing the while,
towards the stern of the Athene ; and now I learnt •
that they were speaking in French.

'• But you have not as yet given me. Captain
Kanaris," said the English lieutenant, "an answer
to the invitation which I bear you from my com-
mander, Captain Herbert of the Apollo. Your
company to dinner, and that of whomsoever of
your officers you may choose to bring with you,

cither to-day or to-morrow at five o'clock "

" It must be for to-morrow," replied Durazzo,
who, as I understood from the English officer's
mode of address, had resumed for the time being
his surname of Xanaris : " for to-day I have busi-
ness that requires my attention."

" Be it then for to-morrow," rejoined the lieu-
tenant of the Apollo : " and I hope you will allow
this officer " — alluding to the second lieutenant of
the Athene — " to be included in the invitation. I am
sorry that your first lieutenant should be disabled
by an accident : otherwise Captain Herbert and
the ward-room officers of the Apollo would have
been glad to see him."

Durazzo made suitable acknowledgments — and
then said, " Perhaps you will do me the pleasure of
taking some refreshments in my own cabin."

The party descended to below j and I easily com-
prehended how Durazzo could have no objection to
display the elegance and the sumptuous richness of
the cabins to the lieutenant, now that the Athene
was passing as the Otho, and that she was likewise
represented as a ship belonging to the Eoyal If avy
ot Greece, — the circumstances being very difi'erent
from what they were when the corsair passed as a
trading-vessel in the harbour of Civita Yecchia.
They remained below for about half-an-hour— at
the expiration of which time the party ascended
again to the deck; hands were shaken — and the
English officer descending into his galley, took his
departure from the schooner, the terrible character
of which he evidently little suspected.

Scarcely had this incident occurred, when another
appeared to be transpiring. A beautiful yatch,
rigged as a cutter, and coming from the direction
of Leghorn, was sweeping along before the wind
and about to run between the Athene and the
Apollo, as these vessels lay at a distance of about
three hundred yards from each other, — when tba
English lieutenant in the galley was hailed by some
one who stood on the deck of that yacht. The
Englishman raised Lis hat with the most respectful
politeness ; and for a few minutes a running con-
versation was exchanged between the galley and
the pleasure-vessel. The result appeared to be an
alteration in the course of the yacht : for instead
of continuing to stand out to sea, she tacked and
made direct for the Athene.

I watched this proceeeding from my place at
the stern of the corsair-vessel — while Durazzo
with his second lieutenant and mate contemplated
it from a little distance. It was as yet impossible
to distinguish the persons in the yacht, farther
than to perceive that a gentleman dressed in
black, and a lady with white furs on, were two of
the most conspicuous characters. Nearer and
nearer came the yacht : I shifted my position in
order the better to survey its graceful advance ;
and this movement on my part brought me closer
to the spot where Durazzo was standing. Ho
immediately joined me, and said, " We are about
to have fresh visitors. As for the English frigate

there, the captain has sent to invite me "

At this instant an ejaculation issued from my
lips — an ejaculation of such mingled surprise and
joy that I could not possibly restrain it : for the
yacht had now drawn sufficiently near to enable
me to recognise in the gentleman in black the
tall handsome person of the Count of Livorno !

"Ah!" said Durazzo, "it is some one whom
you know ?"

" Yes," I at once replied : " it is the nephew of

the Grand Duke of Tuscany Ah! and that

lady must be his bride Olivia !"

" Mr. Wilmot," said Durazzo, "if they come on

board "

" Oh, that I could speak to you for one instant
alone !" I interrupted him as a sudden idea flashed
j to my mind.

" It shall be so," he quickly rejoined : then
again glancing towards the yacht, he said, with a
sudden resumption of a cold stern air, and speak-
ing loud enough for his officers to overhear him,
" Mr. Wilmot, I must thank you to descend to
your own state-room for the present. I accept
your parole that you will not issue thence until
you receive permission; and I will therefore
spare you the ignominy of placing a guard over
you."

I bowed, and descended to my cabin, — my heart
throbbing violently, for I felt persuaded that
Durazzo was indeed friendly disposed towards me.
My state-room was on the opposite side from that
which the yacht had been approaching ; and con-
sequently I could not, through the air-hole, per-
ceive what was going on. About ten minutes
elapsed; and at the expiration of that interval
Constantino Durazzo made his appearance.

" Now, Wilmot," he said, " quick, quick with
■whatsoever you may have to communicate ! But
speak low — for Lanover is in bis own stute-roota
; adjoining."

JOSEPH ■WXIiMOT; OB, THE ITEMOIES OP A MA.N-SERVANT.

" Is the Count of Livorno on board ?" I eagerly
asked.

"Yes," responded Durazzo. "The English lieu-
tenant, who is acquainted with his lordship, in-
formed him that the Greek vessel was well worth
visiting — the course of the yacht was accordingly
altered — it has run alongside the Athene — the
Count requested permission to come on board—
and ray lieutenant is now parading his lordship
and his beautiful wife round the deck."

" The Count of Livorno is a friend of mine," I
quickly said : " he knows something of Sir Mat-
thew Heseltino and his family — he knows also how
deeply interested I am in them ! He will do any-
thing to serve me !"

"And what would you propose ?" inquired
Durazzo. " Eemember ! the secret of the ship's
character "

" Shall be kept inviolable by me," I instaz.-
81

taneously added, " in any communication you may
permit me to make to the Count of Livorno."

" And that communication ?" demanded the
corsair-chief.

" Simply the request that he will take an im-
mediate opportunity of putting Sir Matthew
Heseltine on hia guard against the villain Dor-
chester."

Durazzo reflected for a few moments; and then
he said, "Be it as you suggest !— there are no
other means !"

I wrung Durazzo's hand with the most fervid
vehemence, while tears of gratitude streamed down
my cheeks.

"But if Dorchester bo unmasked," suggested
the young Greek, "he will be captured. Of that
no matter, however !" he immediately added.
"You must devise* some means for the Count of
Livorno to communicate the result, so that we may

250

JOSEPH WILMOTJ OB, THE MEMOIHS OF A jjIAN-SERVANT.

learn it on board the Athene and have due leisure
to speed away ere pursuit can take place, sup-
posing that Dorchester when arrested should betray
us."

" See what T will do !' I exclaimed : and taking
writing' materials which were in the cabin, I sate
down and hastily penned the following letter : —

" On board the Otho.
" My dear Count of Livorno,

"Tou will doubtless be astonished to behold my sig-
nature to this billet ; but there is not an instant's leisure
for explanation. I haye a boon to beseech, and which I
am confident your lordship will grant. Sir Matthew
Heselcine, bis daughter, and grand-daughter are at one
of the principal hotels at Leghorn. They incur the most
perilous risk from a certain quarter ; and an Knglishman
who lives in the same hotel, is betraying them under the
mask of friendship. That Englishman will perhaps be
recognised by you through his disguise : — he is the
villain Dorchester !

"In whatsoever you may do, my dear Count, be oarefol
not to mention my name— nor the Otho — nor make any
allusion to this billet. It is moreover of the highest
consequence that your lordship should let me know bj
tome means what the result 18. Pardon the liberty I take
iti suggesting what these means may be. The instant
Dorchester is arrested and Sir Matthew is warned, your
lordship might send off a present of fruit or aught else
for the table of Captain Eanaris : — I cannot fail to
observe that such a gift has arrived, and I shall com-
prehend the signitioancy thereof.

" Wishing you, my dear Count, all health and happi-
ness in your union with the object of your love,

" I remain your lordship's most faithful servant,
"JOSEPH WILMOT."

This letter I penned in French in order that
Captain Durazzo might be enabled to read it, so
as to be assured of my good faith in promising to
say nothing that should compromise himself or his
crew.

" I am satisfied," he said. " But I cannot be-
come the bearer of the letter !"

Thus speaking, he rang the silver bell : the
youthful page made his appearance— and Durazzo
spoke to him a few words in the Greek tongue.
The page received from my hand the letter which
I sealed and addressed ; and he glided from the
cabin.

" Eemain you here," said Durazzo : " you must
not be seen by the Count of Livorno."

"You have just done forme," I said, "some-
thing which demands my eternal gratitude. Never
will I forget it, Durazzo my friend — for such I
may again call you !"

"Wilmot, I am indeed your friend!" responded,
the Greek chief, with a voice and look full of
emotion : and the nest instant he disappeared
from my presence.

I was again alone— but Oh! in how different a
frame of mind from that which I had recently
experienced. I felt that my labour was accom-
plished— that the work was as good as done — that
Sir Matthew Heseltine, Annabel, and her mother
were now in security. I was almost wild with
exultation : it appeared as if the impossible had
I been achieved ! At this same time on the preced-
( iag day, shortly after the defeat) and destruction of
J the Tyrol, I was almost reduced to despair : — but
; how circumstances had changed I and how gene-
\ rously, how nobly was Durazzo acting in the long
5 run ! I will not however dwell upon the ecstatic

state of my feelings : suffice it to say that I was
enraptured with the thought that through me
Annabel and her relatives would be again rescued
from immense peril.

Nearly an hour passed, — at the expiration of
which interval the youthful page camo gliding
into the state-room ; and with an unmistakable
air of being pleased in having rendered me some
service, though its nature was unknown to him, he
said, "It is done, Signor Wilmot— it is done ! I
took an opportunity of slipping the note into the
Count of Livorno's hand, whispering to him these
words: ' Start not— sliow no excitement — hut read *
this when ar/ain on board your yacht.' His
lordship took it, making me a rapid sign of intelli-
gence ; and thus my task was accomplished. He
and his beautiful wife are gone : the yacht is
already at some little distance from the schooner ;
and Captain Durazzo intimates through me that
at your pleasure you can go upon the deck
again."

I thanked the page for the information he gave
me, and hastened to avail myself of the permission
to return to the deck. There I perceived Durazzo
watching the beautiful yacht as it glided gracefully
over the bosom of the blue waters : but he did not
appear to bestow the slightest notice upon me. As
I glanced around, I caught : he hideous counte-
nance of Lanover peering above the top of the
staircase, — hideous, but ominous to me no longer;
for I felt convinced that the villain's aim and
hopes would be completely baffled.

CHAPTEB CXXX.

IHK YACHT AND THE CUITEE.

While watching the progress of the yacht, which
was taking the direction of Leghorn, I noticed
another small craft advancing from the harbour of
that town. Its white sail was filled with the wind;
and it came at a quick rate. In a few minutes
the yacht and this small craft passed each
other, with an interval of perhaps two hundred
yards between them ; and it seemed as if tho
smaller vessel were coming direct towards the
Athene — or the Otho, as it was called for tho
nonce. Happening to glance round, I saw that
Lanover was looking through a telescope in the
direction of the two vessels ; and then it suddenly
struck me that there was something peculiar in
his hideous countenance. I surveyed hiui more at-
tentively, without appearing to have my eyes fixed
upon him at all ; and now I perceived that a liend-
like expression of satisfaction and triumph was
expanding over the features of the humpback. A
half-subdued ejaculation of joy escaped his lips ;
and turning quickly away from the bulwark, he
accosted Captain Durazzo, to whom he made some
hasty communication.

The truth flashed to my mind. That small craft
which was advancing towards the pirate-schoouer,
doubtless contained Sir Matthew Heseltine, Mrs.
Lanover, and Annabel,— together with the villain
Dorchester, A boy stood near with a telescope in
his hand: I requested him to lend it me for a
moment; and without betraying any particular
excitement, but assuming the air of one who was

JOSEPH WILMOT; OR, THE MEMOIES OF A MAK-SERVANT.

551

merely using the glass from a motive of curiosity,
I examined the smaller vessel by its aid. I could
distinctly perceive two gentlemen and two ladies
seated in the stern-sheets of the little cutter : —
now I recognised Sir Matthew — and now I beheld
the countenance of Annabel also ! Were it not
that I was exercising the strongest control over my
feelings, an ejaculation would have burst from my
lips, as the thought struck me that those whom I
had laboured so hard to save, were now actually
rushing into the lion's mouth, and that Durazzo
himself would have no power to save them if they
once set foot on the deck of his vessel !

Oh ! would the Count of Livorno perceive them
ere it was yet too late ? That he knew them by
sight, I- could hardly hope : for when they were
imprisoned at Marco Uberti's tower, I believed, to
the best of my knowledge, that he had not set
eyes upon them. But might he not now discern
the features of the villain Dorchester, whom he
did know and whom he had seen? — or was that
cunning individual's disguise too deep to be thus
penetrated, especially at such a distance ? Yet
again, if the Count of Livorno should observe that
the small craft was making direct for the schooner,
might he not be smitten with a suspicion, if he had
already perused my note, that the danger therein
alluded to lay somewhere in that quarter? But
on the other hand, how could he suspect it? how
could he possibly fathom the meaning of the peril
so hastily and dimly glanced at in my note?

All these conflicting thoughts swept through my
brain iu the space of a few moments, — although it
has occupied several minutes to record them here.
Meanwhile I kept my eyes riveted upon the two
vessels; and, Oh! what a thrill of anxious hope
vibrated in my heart, as I perceived the course of
the Count's yacht now altering almost imme-
diately after it had passed the little cutter con-
taining those in whom I was so deeply interested.
The cutter itself, doubtless on being hailed by
those on board the yacht, altered its own course ;
and then it lay to. A few instants more brought
the vessels together; and with an inward voice
that was full of exultation, I said to myself,
"They are saved !"

"But what will you do if they turn back?"
were the excited words "which suddenly fell upon
my ear ; and I recognised the harsh jarring voice
of Mr. Lanover.

1 glanced around : he was appealing energetically
to Captain Durazzo ; and his back was towards
me, so that he observed not that I was a listener
and a looker-on.

"What will I do?" said Durazzo coolly: but i
methought he spoke in a voice somewhat louder '
than was requisite for the mere behoof of Mr. I
Lanover alone, and that therefore he was inten-
tionally conveying Lis words to my ears. '"' You
do not think it possible that I can send out a boat ;
to seize upon the persons in that cutter, when j
those on board the ships-of-war would perceive i
the outrage ? We are lying within the range of j
their guns, Mr. Lanover; and though the Athene
beat the Tyrol, I am not mad enough to risk my
vessel and my crew in the presence of those two
frigates and that sloop."

" Then what is to be done ?" demanded Lan-
over petulantly.

"That is your business, sir," answered the

pirate-chief. " I havo fulfilled my r'ompact : I
have brought the Athene liither: but it was for
you to lure, through the mtans of your ag;ont,
those persons into my power. If the vessels-of-
war were not there, the cutter should be speedily
captured: but you cannot ask me to achieve im-
possibilities, or to incur a peril which none but a
madman would encounter."

Lanover turned away from the pirate-chief; and
at the same instant I averted my countenance. I
looked through the telescope again; and I per-
ceived a conference going on between those in the
yacht and those in the cutter. More than ever
did I feel that Sir Matthew and the ladies were
noTT safe. A sidelong glance flung towards Lan-
over, showed me that his looks were replete with
tke anxiety of suspense ; and I could full easily
comprehend what was passing in his mind. It
was a matter of the utmost moment to him
whether the cutter should continue its way to the
Athene, or whether it put back into Leghorn.

" But if they do come on board," he suddenly
demanded of Captain Durazzo, " you will keep
them ?"

" Most assuredly," answered the young corsair.
"A few minutes would suiEce to spread our
sails— the wind has changed — it is favourable for
us— and .'we would glide quickly away. Those men-
of-war yonder would fancy it was merely a little
cruise that we were taking; and when once be-
yond gun-shot range, they might think anything
else they liked. Now, Mr. Lanover, are you satis-
fied that I am prepared to do everything in all
fairness ? and will you, as a reasonable man, com-
prehend that I cannot achieve impossibilities ?"

" Yes, yes !" ejaculated Lanover : and then he
again turned to look at the two vessels.

At that very instant the cutter was putting
about; and keeping in the vicinage of the Count
of Livorno's yacht, it was evidently taking its way
back to Leghorn. Annabel and her relatives were
saved !

I could not venture now to look towards Lan-
over again : I felt that if I did, he would perceive
such a glow of animation upon my countenance,
he might suspect that the Count of Livorno's
visit to the Athene had not passed without
some communication between his lordship and
myself.

" They have escaped us ! they have escaped
us !" ejaculated Lanover, in a tone of the bitterest
vexation : and then, as I did venture to glance
around at the instant, I perceived him whispering
to Durazzo.

"No, sir — it was impossible!" answered the
pirate-chief aloud. " I myself consigned him to
his state-room the whole time."

I knew full well that this response regarded my-
self, and that Lauover had put a query to Durazzo
in respect to me.

" Perhaps," continued the humpback, still ad-
dressing himself to the pirate-chief, "the Count
and Countess of Livorno may have recognised Sir
Matthew and the ladies — and they have gone back
together for the exchange of courtesies at Leg-
horn. To-morrow, therefore, Dorchester may suc-
ceed But, Ah ! if Dorchester himself be found

out !"

"Is there any chance of that?" inquired Du-
razzo : "for if so, Mr. Lanover, it will behove me

to look to the safety of my ship, my crew, and
myself. If your agent Mr. Dorchester be ar-
rested— who knows what information he may give ?"

"No, no — he would not betray the ship!" ejacu.
lated Lanover. " Indeed he knows not what you
really are : I merely told him in my letter that if
be could possibly contrive a boating excursion to-
day, he was to propose a visit to the beautiful
schooner carrying the Greek colours."

" Well," answered Durazzo, " we must be
guided by circumstances. We will of course wait
till to-morrow — or even several days — provided
that nothing occurs to render a precipitate de-
parture expedient."

"Ah! you will wait several days?" ejaculated
the humpback joyously. " This is indeed most
honourable on your part — and there is yet hope !"

He appeared in the excitement of his feelings
to forget that I was standing nigh and could
therefore overhear all that he said. But of course
believing that no secret counter-plot had been set
in motion to bafHe his schemes and frustrate his
views, he doubtless considered it a matter of no
consequence whether I overhead anything or not.
He must have looked upon me as a prisoner on
board the Athene, and therefore powerless for any
interference in his projects.

The yacht and the cutter continued their way
to Leghorn ; and soon entering the harbour, were
lost to the view. I descended to my state-room
to revel in the luxury of feelings which I now ex-
perienced ; and Oh ! how fervidly in my heart did
I thank the generous-minded Constantine Durazzo
for the change which he had suffered to come over
himself, and for the assistance he had rendered
me. A couple of hours passed ; and the dusk
now beg;in to close in. I did not during that in-
terval reascend to the deck: I was fearful of be-
traying aught by my countenance that would lead
Lanover to suspect that the pirate-chief had not
too faithfully adhered to his compact. At the ex-
piration of that period the young page entered my
state-room, bearing the massive silver salver, on
which were dishes of oranges, grapes, and confec-
tionary.

" Captain Durazzo," said the youth, " begs your
acceptance of these trifles. The Count of Livorno
has just sent off his yacht with huge hampers
containing fruits, wines, and other things, as a
present for the Captain, in acknowledgment of the
courtesy his lordship and the Countess experienced
on board the schooner to-day."

The page retired : I understood full well what
bis mission to me meant. Most kindly and faith-
fully had the Count of Livorno attended to the
request contained in my letter; and the gift sent
to Durazzo was intended as a signal for me that
Sir Matthew and his family were safe, and that
the villain Dorchester was arrested.

Another hour passed; and then Durazzo him-
self entered my state-room. I at once grasped him
warmly by the hand, — expressing my fervid grati-
tude for the services he had rendered me.

" I have persuaded Lanover," said the corsair-
chief, " to go on shore with the idea that by some
secret means he may obtain an interview with his
agent Dorchester, I have represented to him that
with the exercise of the most ordinary caution he
can prevent his temporary presence in Leghorn
from being suspected by Sir Matthew Heseltine

[ and the ladies. He yielded— and he is gone. He
I will learn that all his schemes are baffled and that
Dorchester is arrested : for such was the intima-
tion which the Count's present to me was doubt-
I less intended to convey."

"And think you that Lanover will return on
board the Athene ?" I inquired.

" I know not," responded Durazzo, " Such a
return will be useless so far as his projects are con-
cerned : but on the other baud, he may think it
advisable to avail himself of the schooner to get
away with all expedition from the Tuscan ter-
ritory. Another hour will doubtless show : for by
that time the boat will come back, I will make
you acquainted with the result,"

Durazzo then left me in a somewhat hurried
manner, as if to prevent me from renewing the
expressions of my gratitude for the services he
had rendered. The page shortly appeared to
spread the cloth for my dinner ; and I partook of
the repast with a better appetite than I had as yet
experienced on board the Athene. In about au
hour Durazzo returned; and he entered hastily,
saying, " Lanover is arrested ! Either he or Dor-
chester— or perhaps both — must have made reve-
lations : for it is evidently known that this is the
Athene and that it is a pirate-ship. We are off
at once: — there is not even leisure to put you
ashore !"

With these words Constantine issued from my
presence ; and then I became aware of the hasty
tread of many feet upon the deck overhead, and
of all the evidences of that bustle and activity
which denote that a ship is about to get under
weigh. The anchor was heaving up ; and words
of command soou issued rapidly from the lips of
Durazzo. Then all of a sudden the roar of a gun,
booming through the air, rolled upon my %ar.

I hastened on deck : the sails were already filling
to the breeze ; and I felt the motion of the vessel
as she was moving onward. Another gun was
fired: it was from the English frigate ; and a shot
splashed in the water scarcely half-a-dozen yards
from the starboard side of the ship. Durnzzo's
voice went on issuing order after order with a
calm firmness; and each successive mandate was
with alacrity obeyed by l^is well disciplined crew.
Shot after shot was fired at the Athene from the
frigate, which was likewise spreading its sails ; and
I perceived also that the French sloop was getting
under weigh, I remained at a distance from Du-
razzo : and I saw that he was too much occupied
in giving his orders to have any immediate leisure
for discourse with me. He evidently did not think
it worth while, at least for the present, to waste
time or ammunition in returning the frigate's
shot; and as the Athene was now running rapidly
away from the dangerous neighbourhood of the
French and English vessels-of-war, not one of
those shot inflicted the slightest injury on the
schooner. The dusk had closed in some time — the
darkness was deepening — the wind was strength-
ening— and the aspect of the heavens portended a
tempestuous night.

Every stitch of canvass which the Athene could
carry, was displayed to the wind; and almost in-
credible was tlie speed with whicli the beautiful
fabric skimmed over the water. The French sloop
— evidently a very fast sailer — was visible through
the night-glass: but the English frigate was no

JOSEPH WFLMOT; OB, THE MEMOIES OP A MAK-SERVANT.

253

onger to be seen. Nearly an hour had now passed
since the Athene sped from her anchorage off Leg-
horn ; and Durazzo at length consigned the care
of his vessel to his second lieutenant, while he de-
scended to his cabin to snatch some hasty refresh-
ment. He took the opportunity of passing by the
spot where I was standing ; and he hastily whis-
pered, " In about five minutee go down below."

Suffering that interval to elapse, I descended to
my state-room, — where the youthful page almost
immediately made his appearance, with a request
on Captain Durazzo's part that I would join him
in his cabin to take a glass of wine. Thither I at
once repaired; and the corsair-chief desired me to
be seated.

" I had not till this instant found leisure," he
said, " to hold any farther conversation with you :
but you are doubtless anxious to learn the details
of what took place at Leghorn. I sent Lanover
on shore in my boat — and bade the mate accom-
pany him in plain clothes, with a view that he
might follow at a distance when they were in the
town, and judge whether anything happened to
Lanover himself. The mate beheld the arrest of
Latiovcr suddenly effected by a posse of police, by
whom he was borne off. Still the mate followed at
a distance — and remained outside the police-court to
which Lanover was conducted, — until thinking it
was of no earthly avail for him to linger there, he
began to retrace his way towards the boat. The
foolish fellow however nearly suffered for the delay
which he so incautiously adopted after Lanover's
arrest. For scarcely had he reached the boat,
when a body of police-oflBcers rushed down to the
landing-place; and a conflict ensued between them
and my men. The sbirri were beaten off: my
men escaped unhurt, and put back with all possible
speed to the Athene. Now you know everything.
As for Lanover," added the young Greek, with a
look of supreme disgust, " I can scarcely be sorry
for his arrest, whatever the particular charge be
that is brought against him."

" Eest assured, my dear Durazzo," I answered,
" that he righteously merits any fate that may be
in store for him. But, Oh ! how can I suffi-
ciently "

"Not another word of gratitude!" interrupted
the young Greek. "We are friends once more —
and that is the essential."

"Yes— but it is not all that I have to say!" I
exclaimed : " for I must give you a proof of my
friendship. Constantino Durazzo, you have ren-
*dered me a service which I never can forget, and
which I can never adequately repay. You have
faith in my honour — and you will believe my word.
Solemnly therefore do I stake that honour — as
solemnly too do I pledge this word of mine — that
never, never from my lips shall go forth a syllable
that in any quarter may militate against your in-
terest. No — I am incapable of ingratitude!— and
heaven knows that you have my sincerest wishes
for your happiness !"

Constantino seized my hand, and pressed it fer-
vidly : but he could not immediately give utterance
to a syllable — his heart was too full of emotions to
allow him to speak. But his eloquent eyes con-
veyed the joyous gratitude which he in his turn
experienced ; and then he at length murmured,
" We are friends for evermore !"

" We are," I responded : " and-

" And the day may come," he answered, " when
you may even forget that I have been a corsair-
chief or at least you will do your best to banish

it from your memory. But now let us change the
subject. We are chased, as you have perceived,
by a sloop and a frigate : the latter we have
already distanced — the former we may not run
away from with the same facility. Nevertheless,
there are nine chances in our favour to one against
us. And if that one should happen to overrule all
the rest — well, we must do as we did in respect to
the Tyrol. But understand me well, my dear
Wilmot : — the moment there is a fitting opportu-
nity, you shall be landed— and my sincerest wishes
for your happiness and prosperity will follow you.
I must now go upon deck to see that my brave ship
does its duty ; and if you purpose to walk there
again this evening, you can come up in a few
minutes. We must not seem to have too good
an understanding with each other — for fear lest
suspicion might be engendered that the frustration
of Lanover's schemes was not altogether the result
of accident."

By the time I returned to the deck, the wind
had got up considerably, and the waves were
crested with white foam. Still the Athene held
on under all her canvass: but the French sloop
was still visible through the night-glass — for she
too had crowded ali sail. The night was dark-
clouds of ominous blackness were rolling high over
head ; and I felt convinced that we should be
visited by a storm of terrific wind — perhaps a
hurricane. Within another half hour it blew with
such violence that Durazzo ordered sail to bo
shortened : yet still the Athene glided through the
water at a tremendous rate. Another half hour—
and the wind came on with such a gush that me-
thought for a few instants the gallant schooner
would be upset, or that her tall topmasts would
be split in twain: but she rose gracefully after in-
clining towards the sea — and the corsair-chief
commanded more sail to be taken in.

In another hour the French sloop was no longer
visible : but it now blew the perfect hurricane
which the aspect of the heavens had portended;
and the sea was lashed up into tremendous billows.
The spray dashed over the deck— so that I was
soon completely wet through; and Durazzo advised
me to go below. I felt somewhat apprehensive of
danger; and methought there was more chance
upon the deck of escaping from its consequences,
than if I went and cooped myself up in my state-
room. I therefore assured the young Greek that
I would much rather remain where I was.

"It will be a boisterous night," said Durazzo:
"it is already blowing a hurricane — and in another
hour we shall not be able to show a single stitch of
canvass. The Athene has however weathered
many a worse storm ; and I entertain no fear."

" But there must be always danger," I observed,
" amidst the various casualties that may happen at
sea."

" There is danger everywhere," responded Du-
razzo, " both on land and on water. But with a
gallant vessel like this— and with plenty of sea-
room — with a well-disciplined crew also "

" And with a skilful captain," I suggested, " the
chances of peril are considerably lessened ?"

As Durazzo had prophesied, another hour beheld
US Bcudding along with bare poles; and we went

254

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OB, THE MEMOIES OF A MAN-SEETANT.

at a tremendous rate. The waves were literally
mountains high : the white foam gleamed ghastly
through the darkness of the night : the prospect
was fis if a churchyard were teeming and heaving,
swelling and sinking all around — tossing its white
gravestones about, like feathers upon the surface,
in every direction. Durazzo again accosted me :
and I now learnt that we were running between
the island of Elba and Corsica — a course which he
preferred to the channel between Elba and the
main land of Italy.

The pumps had been rigged— the well of the
vessel was frequently sounded— and it was about
midnight when the second lieutenant reported
something to Durazzo which made the corsair-
chief betake himself to the pumps. A presen-
timent of danger hurried me thither also ; and
I soon ascertained that the schooner had sprung a
leak. It proved to be a serious one too, and the
pumps had now to be kept vigorously at work.
Durazzo frequently descended to his cabin to ex-
amine the chart : for, as I afterwards learnt, the
present cruise was the first occasion on which the
Athene had ever been in that part of the Mediter-
ranean. After the discovery of the leak, I volun-
teered to render my assistance at the pumps; and
though the corsair-chief assured me that he had
men enough for all the purposes of the vessel, I
insisted on doing that which I conceived to be my
duty. I began working with all my energy — a
proceeding which I could well judge by various
evidences, raised me considerably in the estimation
of Durazzo's oiScers and crew.

It must have been about one in the morning
when the Athene experienced a sudden shock which
was felt throughout the whole fabric, making her
quiver from stem to stern, and throwing down
several of the crew by its violence. The vessel
seemed to reel for an instant — then it passed on —
but its stern gave a tremendous bump on the
sunken rock or shoal over which it had just
gone. The man at the wheel was hurled down
with terrific force ; so that he was stunned for up-
wards of a minute, — and in the meanwhile it was
ascertained that the ship's rudder had been broken
off. The effect was immediately visible by the
manner in which she began to toss and heave |
about, with no certain guide for her course ; and
Durazzo, who was in his cabin examining the
chart at the instant the accident occurred, came
rushing upon deck. I may as well observe here
what I did not however learn until afterwards,
that the shoal or rock — whatsoever it were — was
not marked in the chart ; and therefore no fault
could be attributed to the seamanship o£ the
corsair-chief or any of his crew.

In the midst of the grave circumstances which
now siirrounded us, Constantino did not for an in-
stant lose his presence of mind. His orders were
quickly but calmly and steadily given : he had all
his wits completely about him. A sail was set to
steady the ship, and preparations were made for
rigging some substitute fur the lost rudder. But
scarcely had half-a-duzen minutes elapsed after the
accident, when a loud ejaculation from a man in
the fore-part of the vessel rang through the gale
upon our ears ; and Durazzo hastily exclaimed to
me, '• Prepare for the worst, Mr. Wilmot ! We
are lost !— there are breakers !— we are rushing
upon them !"

Scarcely were the words out of his lips, when the
loud roaring of the breakers confirmed the horriblo
truth of the intelligence. A glance over the ship's
side showed me that we were now being hurried
on through a mass of foam ; and then the Athene
suddenly stopped short with a crash and with a
shock as if she had run against a wall of massive
masonry rising out of the sea. The waves broke
over her : desperately did I clutch at a rope— but
I missed it — and the next instant I had the suffo-
cating sensation of being immersed in the water.
Thus washed off the deck, and left to battle with
the fury of the billows, my case was even more
desperate than when borne by the raging waters
from the emigrant-ship off the Kentish coast. I
swam with all my energy — all my power. I
looked about me for the Athene — but beheld it
not : there was a light however glimmering at a
distance — and I naturally concluded it was on
board that vessel. I swam towards it — if swim-
ming it could be called, which at one moment was
immersion, and at another being hurried along with
racehorse speed by a billow that seemed rolling in
to dash itself madly upon the sunken rocks — then
being hurled back again and nearly sucked down
into the abyss by the retreating wave. All of a
sudden my feet touched the bottom : a mighty
billow was pursuing me into that shallow water,
the surface of which was however as white as if it
were a seething cauldron. I ran on — the wave
broke just behind me — on, on I went — until there
was no longer any doubt that I had reached
land of some sort; and I sank down senseless
through exhaustion, just beyond the limit of the
water.

"When I regained my consciousness, some one
was bending over me ; and I had an idea that a
voice was speaking kindly to me — but I could
not instantaneously recognise it. At length I knew
it to be Durazzo's ; and scarcely had .this convic-
tion dawned in unto my mind, when I found that
there was another person near me — and this proved
to be the youthful page. But the rest of the crew
— where were they ? And the gallant vessel — the
beautiful Athene — where was it ? Alas ! Constan-
tine Durazzo had every reason to believe that the
only survivors were there grouped together in the
persons of us three ! As for the Athene, it was
gone — broken up by the breakers: it was then
floating in countless fragments upon the bosom of
the billows — or else being dashed up in shatters
upon the shore. And we ourselves were upon the
island of Corsica.

I knelt, and returned thanks to heaven for my
deliverance : Durazzo and the page imitated my
example ; and when we had finished our devotions,
we bent our way towards the light which I had
seen from the waters and which was shining at
about a distanca of a quarter of a mile. During
our walk thither, I learnt that the young page
was indebted to Constantine for his life ; and never
shall I forget the terms of affectionate grati-
tude in which the juvenile Greek addressed liis
I elder fellow-countryman. Durazzo was soiubie
and nieianc'aoly : he deeply felt the loss of his crew
that had loved him so well— the loss of the suip
1 in which he took such pride ! I could understand
I also that the incident was a terrible blow fur Con-
I stantine Durazzo; inasmuch as it had ruined in
an instant the bright hopes he had formed of

JOSEPH WIIiMOT; OK, THE MEMOIES OV A MAX-SEHVANT.

255

realizing by the next cruise sufficient to afford him
a competency for the rest of his life.

We found that the light proceeded from a small
farm-house, the occupants of which were an
elderly couple, with three sons and two daughters.
The moment the door was opened, the wretched
plight in which we made our appearance— the
water dripping from our clothes — no hats or caps
on our heads — and our saturated hair all in wildest
disorder — at once led to the impression that we
had been shipwrecked. This wo stated to have
been the case; and all the members of the family
displayed the most cordial zeal to render us such
succour as was in their power. Clean linen was
furnished us, and the wardrobes of the three sons
supplied us each with a suit. While our toilets
were being performed, the daughters superintended
the preparations for a good meal; and this, to-
gether with some wine and spirits, helped still
more to comfort us. Durazzo represented that his
vessel was a Greek trader, to which he gave some
name very different indeed from that of either the
Athene or the Otho. We were conducted to bed-
chambers, and there we reposed for a few hours.

In the morning, before breakfast, we descended
to the shore on which we had been cast ; and we
found it st?cwn with the fragments of the wreck.
By a singular accident a piece of the stern — the
very piece on which the name cf " The Otho"
had been painted — was amongst these relics of
the Athene. Durazzo at once dug a hole and
buried it : for if he cast it back into the water, it
might have been thrown up again. But it was
not merely with remnants of the ship that the
shore was strown : no less than five dead bodies,
swollen and bloated, lay there ; and amongst them
was that of Notaras. No articles of any value —
no chests — no clothes — had been thrown upon the
strand ; and there was not so much as a single
spar standing on the spot where the Athene had
struck the hidden rocks. With folded arms, Con-
Btantine Durazzo gloomily surveyed the scene : I
saw that he was profoundly moved — though his fea-
tures were rigid and no tear moistened his cheek.

We dragged the corpses all to one place, where
we ranged them in a row ; and we covered them
with a sail which had been washed ashore along
with the spar to which it pertained. As we re-
traced our way towards the hospitable dwelling of
the worthy Corsican farmer, Durazzo said in a low
melancholy voice, "We must tarry here long
enough to see the obsequies performed for those
poor fellows. And then "

But he stopped short, as if in utter ignorance of
what his own proceedings would subsequently be.
I delicately hinted to him that I had ample funds
at a banker's in Florence, — any portion of which
should be cheerfully placed at his disposal.

"A thousand thanks, my dear Wilmot," he re-
sponded : " but I am far from being in need of
such succour. Fortunately at the instant the ac-
cident occurred I had in my pocket a purse well
filled with gold : but all my other treasure has gone
down with the Athene. It is not on account of
my immediate purposes that I am at all embar-
rassed; but candidly, Wilmot, for the future

Vou know what I mean !" — and he wrung my
hand with a sudden convulsive violence; for his
heart was evidently full of anxious thought on
account of his Leonora.

"It is not for Constantino Durazzo," I said, " to
be depressed !"

" No— you are right, Wilmot !" he exclaimed :
"it is cowardly to give way to despondency in suck
circumstances. I must carve out some new fortune
for myself!"

I may here pause for a few minutes to observe
that the part of the island on which we had been
thrown, had a singularly barren and desert appear-
ance — save in respect to perhaps about a hundred
acres in the vicinage of the farm-house ; and this
tract of land bore evidences of a very tolerable
agriculture, so far as I could judge, and consider-
ing the season of the year. About a mile distant,
there was a little hamlet, consisting of not more
than a dozen of straggling and detached huts or
cottages, with the spire of a church peeping up in
the midst. In another direction — about three-
quarters of a mile from the farm — there was a
somewhat vast pile of ruins — the building hav-
ing once been a monastic institution, and of which
I shall soon have more particularly to speak. There
were very few trees within the range of our vision ;
and those which we did see, were chiefly upon the
farm.

On arriving at the farm-house we found an ex-
cellent breakfast prepared for us ; and when the
repast was over, Durazzo conferred with our
hospitable host relative to the burial of the corpses
left upon the strand. The farmer at once sent off
to the village to solicit the attendance of the priest
holding the little curacy; and the reverend man
promptly complied with the summons. No coffins
were provided for the dead,— Durazzo merely
wished to have them interred in consecrated
ground; and this in the course of the day was
accomplished, — the corsair-chief, myself, and the
youthful page attending the obsequies.

CHAPTER CXXXI.

THE MONASTEET OP ST. BAKTHOLOMEW.

It was the evening ; and we were seated with the
farmer's family in their comfortable parlour, —
when the conversation turned upon the ruins to
which I have already alluded.

"It was once the largest monastic establishment
in this island," said the farmer. "Indeed, the
monastery of St. Bartholomew was not merely
celebrated in Corsica— but it had an European
fame, for the richness of its endowmonts and the
hospitality which all way-farers experienced within
its walls. If you were to stand upon the highest
point of land near those ruins, and to glance all
around, the whole tract of territory which the eye
would thus embrace once belonged to the monks
of St. Batholomew. The Lord Abbot was a feudal
peer as well as a high church dignitary ; and as
some centuries ago Corsica was frequently invaded
by bands from Italy or France, and even Spain,
the Lord Abbot maintained a considerable military
force for the defence of his estates. Tradition
moreover tells us that there was many a Lord
Abbot who in time of emergency put off tho mitre
and threw down the croiier, to don the helmet
and grasp the sword. In the times of the crusades,
the monastery of St. Bartholomew sunt to the

256

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OE, THE MEMOIRS OP A MAX-SEEVANT.

Holy Land a body of two hundred men; and this
contingent to the Christian armies it maintained
at its own cost, until King Richard of England
made peace with the Sultan Saladin."

" No wonder," I observed, " that the monastery
of St. Bartholomew was so celebrated. But how
happened it to fall into ruin? — for inasmuch as
your religion is Roman Catholic, surely so splen-
did an establishment could have maintained itself
in existence ?"

"The tradition is well preserved amongst us,"
replied the farmer ; " and if I weary you not with
my explanations, I will give you the legend as it
has been handed down in my family."

I assured the farmer that I experienced the
greatest interest in whatsoever details were con-
nected with so remarkable an establishment.
Fresh logs were heaped upon the fire — another
flask of wine was produced — and our hospitable
host continued as follows : —

" The Genoese were the worst oppressors whose
iron rule was ever known to the Corsicans. I
need not tell a young gentleman of education, as I
perceive you to be, that the little Eepublic of
Genoa once exercised immense maritime influence
in the Mediterranean, and was even at times able
to cope with the Turkish fleets themselves. For
several centuries the Geonese occupied Corsica,
and maintained themselves amongst us as much
by corrupting our leading men with their gold, as
by the power of their arms. There used to be an
ancient castle — indeed the ruins still remain —
about five miles hence ; and the domain attached
to it joined the patrimony of St. Bartholomew.
That castle and estate belonged to an old Corsican
family bearing the name of Monte d'Oro. Very
powerful were the Counts of Monte d'Oro ; and
greatly had they signalized themselves in the wars
of the Crusades, as well as in the earlier periods
of Corsican history. I must direct your special
attention to the end of the 17th century. At
that period the Count of Monte d'Oro was a man
infamous for the depraved and debauched life
which he led. It was notorious that he was
largely bribed by the Genoese to help them in
maintaining their supremacy in the island. But
if all the treasures of the universe had flown into
Monte d'Oro's exchequer he would have dissi-
pated them in his profligate pursuits. He was
therefore always in want of money ; and he scrupled
not to ride forth at night with a posse of armed
ruffians, to carry off the flocks and herds from the
domains of his neighbours. These neighbours
were all, with one exception, too weak to resist the
formidable Count of Monte d'Oro: — the Lord
Abbot of St. Bartholomew seemed alone able to
cope with him. Sometimes when the Count made
an inroad upon the ecclesiastical domain, he was
encountered by the Abbot's armed retainers ; and
several sanguinary conflicts ensued. For these
and a variety of other circumstances the Count of
Monte d'Oro conceived a violent hatred against
the Lord Abbot of that time; and being of a
temper as violent and vindictive as he was de-
bauched and profligate, he resolved by some means
or another to revenge himself against his mitred
foe."

" You are depicting a truly formidable charac-
ter in this Count of Monte d'Oro," I observed.
"It is said," answered the farmer, "that even

Satan himself is not so black as he is painted : but
it would be impossible to depict the Count of
Monte d'Oro in hues too deep. By his abomina-
ble conduct he drove a young and beautiful wife
to a premature grave ; and his only son, when at
the age of nineteen, was so disgusted with his
father's depraved conduct, and felt the paternal
tyranny to be so intolerable, that he suddenly fled
from the castle— and whether he were ever again
heard of, seems to be a matter of doubt. But on
that point I shall have something to say pre-
sently. In the mean time I resume the thread of
my narrative."

The farmer refreshed himself with some wine,
and then continued in the following manner: —

" I was saying that the Count of Monte d'Oro
determined to be revenged on the Abbot and the
entire community of St. Bartholomew. The
Genoese authorities established in the island
of Corsica, were at that time very much in want
of money : for their power was already tottering,
and their only method of maintaining it was by
keeping the great native chiefs well bribed. Until
the period of which I am speaking — namely, the
year 1697 — the monastic institutions had been left
untaxed : for the Genoese were afraid of goading
the Corsicans to desperation if they displayed their
tyranny against their religion or their ecclesiastical
establishments. Besides, the Genoese were also
Catholics themselves : and there was thus a reli-
gious sympathy which had guaranteed the monas-
tic institutions of the island from the taxes which
weighed so heavily elsewhere. The Count of
Monte d'Oro conceived a project which he hoped
would enable him to achieve a two-fold purpose :
namely, to replenish his own treasury and to wreak
his vengeance on the community of St. Bartholo-
mew. He suggested to the Genoese authorities
that the monastic institutions should be taxed,
and that the imposts should be levied in divers
ways, — upon each monastery or convent accord-
ing to its extent and the number of in-
mates— according to the value of its endow-
ments, whether of lands or revenues — and ac-
cording to the worth of the gold and silver plate
possessed by each community. The Count, as
wily as he was vindictive, knew that this mode of
taxation would, in its complex details, press more
heavily on the monastery of St. Bartholomew than
on any other ecclesiastical institution on the island.
The Genoese authorities consulted the other leading
Corsican chiefs, who willingly gave their consent
to the scheme, on being promised that they them-
selves should exercise the functions of assessors and
collectors in their respective districts. The Count
of Monte d'Oro's object was now gained — or at
least he fancied it was ; and he returned in tri-
umph from Ajaccio, the seat of Government, to his
own castle. The instant the intelligence of the
newly decreed mode of taxation reached St. Bar-
tholomew's, the Abbot and his monks sate in
solemn conclave to deliberate upon the course they
were to pursue. I must tell you that the monas-
tery possessed gold and silver plate of enormous
value : indeed it was supposed that the table of no
monarch in Christendom could display an equal
sumptuousness or amount of wealth in that respect.
The endowments were rich — the revenues were
great ; and under the paternal auspices of the good
fathers, the tenantry had rendered the monastic

JOSrrH WILMOT; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MANSERVANT.

257

estates the most fertile and productive in all the
island. Doubtless the Abbot and his monks felt it
very hard that they should now be subjected to so
outrageous a plunder under the fiction of a legal
taxation. They knew full well that whatsoever
they might pay in the form of impost, would not
be conducive to the purposes of legitimate govern-
ment— but that the greater portion of the collected
taxes would be intercepted by the rapacious hands
of their sworn enemy, the Count of Monte
d'Oro."

" And to what resolution did they come ?" I in-
quired, much interested in the tale.

"The holy father saw no possible means of
evading or resisting the payment of such taxes as
might be levied upon them according to the
newly-published tariff'. They had shown them-
selves quite able, by means of their armed re-
tainers, to resist the predatory incursions of the
Count of Monte d'Oro : but they now knew full
85

well that if they attempted resistance against the
levying of the tax, he would invoke the succour of
the Genoese troops — in which case an overwhelm-
ing force would be brought to bear against the
community of St. Bartholomew. The Lord Abbot
and his monks therefore resolved to submit to a
certain extent."

" How to a certain extent ?" I asked, not com-
prehending the phrase in the sense in which it
was now used.

"They made up their minds," returned the
farmer, " to surrender up as little as possible to
the rapacity of the Count of Monte d'Oro. They
assembled their principal tenants — to whom they
granted leases on terms so exceedingly moderate
as to be far below the real value of the lands so ap-
portioned ; and thus they reduced their rent-roll
by one-half. Tiicy pulled down a number of out-
buildings which cotild be easily spiired ; and thus
they reduced the dimensions of the ediQce. As

25S

JOSEPH wn-MOT; OE, THB MEMOIES OF A MAK- SEETANT.

for their sumptuous plate, which "irould have had
to bear the heaviest taxation of all, they melted it
down into bars of silver and gold :-:-everj article of
it, save and except the holy vessels of the altar iu
their cathedral-church, did they thus make away j
with. Being now prepared for the visit of the
Count d'Oro, they calmly awaited the result. The
feudal lord was not long in paying this visit.
One day he arrived at the gate of the monastery,
attended by a posse of his retainers : adoiittance
was at once afforded him— and he was received
with an air of cold courtesy. A surveyor whom
he brought with him, gave an account of the size
of the edifice — reporting likewise the destruction
of a part of it. The Count examined the rent-
roll, and found it had been reduced to one-half its
former proportions. He demanded to inspect the
monastic plate : he was told that with the excep-
tion of the sacramental vessels and the ornaments
of the altar, there was no plate within the walls of
St. Bartholomew. Each successive disappoint-
ment aggravated the Count's rage ; and tjiis last
one rendered him furious. He vowed {liat \ie
would search everywhere for the plate which it
was notorious the monastery possessed — or that if
it had been melted down be would appraise the
ingots. But neither the bars of gold nor of silver
weie to be found. The Count was maddened : he
struck the venerable Lord Abbot, and tore him
from his high seat in the council-chamber. Tlie
holy father rose bleeding from the floor, and ex-
communicated the Count upon the spot. Then
ensued a frightful scene, Forth from its sheath
flashed the Count's weapon ; and the venerable
Abbot was stricken dead at his feet. The monks
gathered round, with horror on their coun-
tenances and lamentations on their lips : but the
ferocious Monte d'Oro was resolved upon the sack
and plunder of the edifice, for which he conceived
he had sufficient warrant on the ground that the
taxation had been resisted. The holy fathers were
expelled— everything of value was seized upon —
and the monastery was given to the flames. But
nowhere could the bars of gold and silver, nor ihe
treasures which the monks were supposed to pos-
sess,— nowhere could they be found ! The tenants
and the armed retainers of the community gathered
in a mass when the flames began to ascend from
the venerated monastic pile : they attacked the
Count of ilonte d'Oro and his ferocions band :
but they were defeated with an immense slaughter.
Then the lands were ravaged and laid waste :
misery was carried into homesteads that were re-
cently the scenes of happiness : habitations were
burnt— families were driven out to perish in the
long cold night of winter. Their flocks and herds
were driven away ; and the patrimony of St. Bar-
tholomew became a desolate waste. The poor
families who survived all these horrors, migrated
to other parts of the island ; and the expelled
monks, fleeing afar from the deadly vengeance of
their persecutor, sought refuge in other sanctuaries
— some perhaps in other climes. This farm was
tenanted by an ancestor of mine : but he had the
good fortune to be spared — for he was a very old
man, and took no part in the conflict with the
Count. His lands were however ravaged— his
sheep and cattle driven off. He died of grief:
but his son, by dint of strenuous toil, restored
somewhat the ruined fortunes of the family. A

few years after the frightful occurrence at the
monastery, the Count of Monte d'Oro died a vio-
lent death: his horse ran away with him when out
one day engaged in the chase — and both rider and
steed fell over a precipice. Their mangled bodies
were subsequently discovered on the beach below.
The son never appeared to claim the castle and
the estates — the title became extinct— the castle
itself has fallen into ruins— the domain of Monte
d'Oro has been parcelled out and has thus got into
other hands. But it was said at the time that the
young Count — as he might be called, though if it
were really he, it was striven by an assumed narae
to conceal his identity — was seen in the neigh-
bourhood for a single day after the old Count's
death, and that he instituted inquiries into all past
events with the air of one to whom they were pre-
viously known but dimly by mere rumour. At all
events, if this individual were really the young
Count who had been long abroad in foreign climes,
it .vas supposed he departed again immediately, —
horrified no doubt at his father's crimes — afraid to
assume a title to which a curse might be attached
— and preferring to sacrifice the estate itself rather
than proclaim himself the son of such a man,"

"And the melted plate," I said, "has never
been heard of s""

" Xever," responded the farmer. " Various
ideas, according to the tradition, were rife at the
lime.' ^ome said that the treasures were buried
in a place the secret of which was known to the
Lord Abbot alone, and that therefore it perished
with him. Others 4eclared that the bars of silver
and gold and all the treasures of the religious com-
munity were shipped on board a vessel for Italy,
and that the holy fathers secretly entertained the
intention of repairing thither to re-establish a new
ecclesiastical home, and thereby escape from the
persecution of their Genoese oppressors as well as
from t'he rancour of the Count of Monte d'Oro.
Indeed it was an opinion with a few that some of
the holy fathers, the youngest of the community,
did proceed to Italy, and obtaining possession of
their exported treasure, did establish themselves in
a new monastic home, while the very aged fugitive
monks took refuge, as f have said, in other C«)r-
sican sanctuaries. I know not which of all these
speculations was likely to be true : but certain it is
that soon after the tragedy there were numerous
seekers amongst the ruins of St. Bartholomew for
the wealth that was supposed to be buried there;
and if the treasure were even discovered, the for-
tunate individual kept the secret so well that it
never transpired."

" I should rather fancy," I observed, " that the
holy fathers had really sent away their wealth, and
that the hypothesis of the Italian emigration oa
('•e part of the youngest and most hale of the
m^aks was the correct one. But nothing more
was ever heard, I think you said, of the heir to
the title and estates of Monte d'Oro ?"
" Nothing," was the response.
'' And the patrimony of St. Bartholomew," I
asked, " has ever since continued a waste ? and
hence the origin of the cheerless aspect of the laud
in this part of the island— save and except with
regard to your farm, and the little village where
the dead were interred to-day ?"

" The lands of the patrimony continued so long
uncultiyat^d," replied the farmer, " and there wsis

JOSEPH WltMOT; OE, THB ITEMOIBS OP A MAN-SERVANT.

259

the certainty that whosoever inifjbt taku a leasi' of
tliem from the persons afterwards claiuiinji; to pos-
sess tLem, would be involved in litigation with
other claimantSj that no one has chosen to risk his
capital on such an enterprise. If you and your
companions will honour us with your presence for
a few more days, you may possibly experience
some little pleasure in visiting the ruins of the
monastery and of the castle."

" I should certainly like to do so," was my
answer; "unless" — and I looked at Darazzo.

" I did think of leaving to-morrovr morning,"
observed Constantine: "but I am not so selfish,
my dear Wilmot, as to burry you away thus pre-
cipitately. We may visit the ruins of both castle
and monastery in the course of to morrow; and
the day after we can take leave of our hospitable
entertainers."

It is unnecessary to detail any more of the con-
versation which took place on the particular even-
ing of which I am writing ; and on retiring to our
respective chambers, I reviewed all I had learnt
from the lips of the worthy farmer before sleep
visited my eyes.

Immediately after breakfast on the following
morning Durazzo, the page, and myself set out to
visit the ruins of the monastery of St. Bartholo-
mew. The farmer was too much occupied with
his own avocations to accompany us : he offered to
send one of his sons — but we knew that the young
men had each their duties to perform ; and we
■would not therefore take either of them away from
the scene of their industry. Moreover the ruins
were close at hand— there was no need of any one
to show us the way ; and when once there, a guide
was equally unnecessary.

Ten minutes' walk brought us to the ruins;
and the first impression was that of a large space
of ground, nearly half an acre, covered with moul-
dering masses of masonry, overgrown with weeds,
grass, and creeping plants. Here and there por-
tions of walls still remained : the eastern end of
the cathedral-church was in better preservation
than the rest ; and we had little difEculty in dis-
cerning some fine sculpture upon the remnants of
the stone framework of the oriel window. But I
have always found that however grand the ideas
previously conceived in respect to a ruin, they in-
variably experience disappointment when the visit
is paid ; and on departure there has been a sense
of exaggeration on the part of the fancy, or else
on that of the book or the tongue which h d pre-
viously described the scene thus inspected. Such
was the disappoinment I felt in the present in-
stance, so far as the actual appearance of the ruins
themselves were eoncerned : for after floundering
about for nearly an hour amongst the huge blocks
of masonry which encumbered the ground, and
through the long dank grass, we scarcely succeeded
in tracing the outlines of more than two or three
of what had once been apartments in the monas-
tery.

Nevertheless, imagination was busy, at least on
my part, in restoring that edifice to what might
have been its former condition, and in peopling it
with its ecclesiastical inmates. Methought I stood
in the midst of the vast cathedral-church — tall
shapely columns supporting the roof — and sculp-
tured shafts of stone forming the frame-work of
the painted windows. Methought I beheld the

altiu- blaudiiig on tlio suuuiiit of a noble asecufc of
steps ; and that the priests in their robes weiv
performing their holy functions there. In another
place methought that where mere fragments of
walls now existed, a spacious and comfortable re-
fectory stood ; and that at a long table I cuu d
see the holy fathers doing justice to the substan-
tial fare. I stood before the mouldering remnant
of a cell; and methouj^ht that therein was an
enthusiast lacerating himself with a scourge,
and hoping to cleanse himself of his sins by
cruellest self-martyrdom. Perhaps one of the
most definable portions of-the ruin was that where
a cloister jnce had been, and where it had bor-
dered the grave-yard of the monastery. Me-
thought that n was all restored — it was a cloister
once again — a wall on one side, pillars on the
other — the colonnade supporting a groined roof —
and the pavement formed of immense heavy flag-
stones. And methought that I could behold two
or three darkly clad individuals— monks in their
gowns, with their hoods drawn over their couute-
nances— slowly pacing that cloister, and telling
their beads. In another part of the ruins there
were assuredly the remnants of a large stabling
establishment, adjoining what had once been a
paved court-yard. But even to distinguish all
this, the closest scrutiny and the keenest discern-
ment were requisite. Then I pictured to myself
the portly Lord Abbot being assisted into the
comfortable saddle on his quiet-going mule — with
perhaps a menial standing near, bearing a massive
silver tray with a flagon and drinking cup upon it,
that his reverend lordship might refresh and
cheer himself with a stoup of wine previous to
going forth upon some pastoral avocation. In a
word, there was scarcely an end to the vagaries
and conceits which my roving imagination thus
permitted itself, as I wandered for an hour amidst
those ruins.

I may here observe that the mood of Durazzo
continued mournful, if not absolutely sombre,
despite his exclamation of the preceding day thnt
he would not despond. He had certainly listened
to the farmer's tale of the previous evening —but
only listened. I do not think it could be said that
he had experienced any interest in it : for he had
asked no question — he had made no comment.
And now he certainly accompanied me and the
youthful page amongst the ruins of St. Bartholo*
mew : but it was with a preoccupied air and in an
abstracted manner. When I directed his attention
to any particular object, he rallied himself with
a sudden start, and endeavoured to display an in-
terest therein. But I saw that he only did this
for my sake, and to render himself as companion-
able as he couki — for that in reality his thoughts
were far away. And no wonder ! Could I blame
him ? How altered was his position from what it
so recently had been ! — his ship and his crew were
gone — the means of rapidly obtaining a com-
petency were taken from him— and the proud,
gallant, skilful, daring pirate-chief was an outcast
oa a strange island, knowing not when he should
again see his bride Leonora, and perhaps unable
to settle his mind to any particular course for the
immediate future. I chose not to question him
on the point — I knew how painful it must be : but
from tlie very bottom of my soul I pitied him.
As for the young page, he also looked melancholy,

260

JOSEPH WILMOT; OK, THB MEMOTRS OF A MAXSKEVANT.

because he sympathized so deeply with Constan-
tine, whom he loved : but he nevertheless displayed
considerable interest in the ruins which we were
■visiting.

We had been about an hour amongst those frag-
ments and dilapidated remnants of a once vast and
no doubt magnificent cloistral edifice, — when, as
we were retracing our way through that sort of
enclosure which I have alluded to as having
doubtless been the grave-yard of the monastery,
the earth suddenly gave way beneath my feet ;
and I disappeared from the view of my two com-
panions. It was not however that I had fallen so
far underground as that my head had gone below
the level : but it was that we were making our way
at the lime through a quantity of high rank grass
and noxious weeds, which reached up to the waist.
Therefore, when being a few yards in advance of
Durazzo and the page, the giving-way of the earth
took me down about three feet, I was suddenly lost
to their view. They rushed forward in affright —
but were infinitely relieved on discovering that the
accident was not more serious. I had however
experienced a considerable shock — and was bruised
too in the lower limbs; for several fragments of
stone had fallen in with me.

" It must be a grave," I said, " that has given
way — for this is evidently the resting-place of the
departed fathers of an olden time."

While thus speaking, I had my eyes fixed upon
the hole from which I had emerged; and it struck
me that I beheld some indications of a descent of
steps. Stooping down I examined the place more
carefully. The giving-way of the earth had left
an aperture about two feet and a half square; and
it was a complete square in shape which the
opening thus formed. I thought this strange ;
and it occurred to me that the earth in that spot
might possibly have concealed a trap-door of
wood or stone, the sudden yielding of which be-
neath my feet had carried down with it just the
quantity of soil that was on the top, and had
thus left that square configuration of the aperture,
ily conjecture relative to the steps was right ;
there was assuredly a descent of narrow stone
stairs in that particular place.

Pointing the circumstance out to Durazzo and
the page, I lay down flat on my stomach, and
thrust in my hands to the bottom of the hole. I
brought up som« pieces of wood and stone : and to
one of the fragments of wood there were iron
hinges, very much worn by the effect of time, and
a mass of rust.

" It was evidently a trap-door concealed by the
earth," I said ; " and most likely fitted into a
stone setting. It could scarcely be the opening of
a tomb: for no coffin of any size could pass down
the aperture. Wnat," I added with a smile,—
" what if we were destined to find the long-lost
treasure ?"

" I am afraid," answered Durazzo, " that when
Fortune wrecked the Athene and gave my gallant
crew to the waves, she turned so completely against
me that her wrath has not yet had time to be
appeased."

" Treasure, or no treasure," I exclaimed, " this
is a very curious discovery we have made ; and as
we have nothing better to do, we may spend half
an hour in exploring it."

By the time I had spokeo, I was again in the

hole ; and squattinjj down, so to speak, as much as
the limited range of the aperture would permit, I
endeavoured to remove with my hands the earth
that had fallen in and amassed itself at the top of
the flight of steps, the summit of which indeed it
only just left barely visible. For upwards of ten
minutes I made little impression upon the aggre-
gated soil : but all of a sudden it gave way — and
I was enveloped in a cloud of dust. I distinctly
heard the sounds of masses of earth or stones
rolling down the steps into some cavernous place
below ; and when the dust cleared away, I per-
ceived that it was indeed the entrance to a sub-
terranean at which I found myself.

The young page had all along witnessed my pro-
ceedings with considerable interest; and Durazzo
now began to bestow upon them a more marked
attention than at the outset.

" Here is certainly a subterranean," I said ;
" and whether it should prove a treasure-chamber
or not," I added, laughing, " let ua explore it."

A farther examination of the aperture showed
that it might be widened to the full range of the
vaulted masonry ; and by the aid of a pointed
piece of wood I broke away several massses of
earth. At length there was an opening amply
large enough to admit the descent of either of us
with ease : but obscurity prevailed in the cavern
— and I hesitated to go down for fear lest it
should prove to be a well, or that sojae accident
might befall me. We had no means of obtaining
a light : but while we were hesitating what course
to adopt, I recollected that on descending into
dark places the eye gets accustomed to the ob-
scurity ; and as I had vowed to explore the cavern,
I did not choose to shrink altogether from my
pledge. Durazzo volunteered to descend first :
but I would not draw down upon myself the im-
putation of cowardice; and therefore I decided on
taking this venturous initiative.

Providing myself with a very long stick, or
rather pole, I began the descent, — thrusting the
pole downward in order to assure myself that there
was no abrupt cessation of the steps. I went
down gradually; and having descended about a
dozen steps, I stopped for two or three minutes to
habituate my eyes to the gloom which enveloped
me. I now began to perceive that I was descend-
ing into a deep cavern-chamber, about sixteen feet
square, and on one side of which there was some
projecting black object which methought must bo
a sarcophagus. The pole informed me when I was
close upon the bottom, — which I found to be of
damp slimy earth. I advanced towards the dark
object ; and discovered it to be a small structure
of black marble, of tomb-like shape, built against
the wall — about three feet high, and six feet
long.

Eetreating towards the steps, I informed my
companions of the nature of the place in which I
found myself; and Durazzo immediately descended,
leaving the young page to keep watch and give us
notice in case any one should appear amongst the
ruins. By the time Durazzo had joined me in the
subterranean, my eyes had become so accustomed
to the obscurity that I could now examine the
marble structure with comparative ease ; and
though it certainly bore every appearance of being
the monumental resting-place of some long-
departed one, the suspicion was nevertheless float-

oOSEPH WILMOT; OE, THE MBMOIBS OF A MAN-SEEVAKT.

261

ing in my roind that it originally had some other
purpose to serve and that it was not altogether
what it seemed.

" Here is the tomb," I said to Durazzo, with
the view of ascertaining what opinion he himself
would express.

"Yes," he replied, "it ia doubtless the last
home of some long defunct authority of St. Bar-
tholomew's; and you, my dear Wilmot, have had
all your trouble and incurred all this risk to be
rewarded with nothing better than the discorery
of a marble monument in an underground sepul-
chre."

" I told you from the very first," I replied,
laughing, " that I addressed myself not as a
treasure- seeker to this exploring enterprise. But
to speak seriously," I added,— aud I did at the
same time grow serious, — " I do not think this is
a mere sepulchre for the dead."

" How ?" ejaculated Durazzo, with a sudden
start as if some -wild hope had thrilled through
him. " You believe then "

" I have scarcely ventured to form an hypo-
thesis," I interrupted him, " as to what the real
use and purpose of this place might have been :
but I have no hesitation in declaring that I do
not think it was intended as a sepulchre. Doubt-
less there was a crypt — or at all events there
must have been several vaults belonging to the
cathedral-church, and in which defunct dignitaries
of the monastery were placed with all befitting
obsequies. Why, therefore, this cavern in the
midst of the church-yard ? and why the mystery
of its entrance ? It is evident that many, many
long years must have elapsed since this place was
last visited, and that accident alone has unsealed
it to our knowledge to-day. The tomb of some
sainted deceased one, or of some venerated monastic
official, would not be thus concealed."

" You ate right, Wilmot— you are right !" ex-
claimed Durazzo. "What if that legend which we
heard last night, and to which I confess that I paid
but indifferent attention at the time, — what if it
were every word true "

"I never for an instant suspected its truth," I
said : " but I certainly thought it far more pro-
bable that the monks had escaped with their trea-
sures to Italy or elsewhere, than that they should
have left them behind, no matter how well con-
trived the place of concealment. But after all, it
is quite probable that the Lord Abbot alone knew
where those treasures were deposited j aud that
his sudden death therefore interred the secret in
his own blood-stained grave."

" In a word, Wilmot," ejaculated Durazzo, his
voice thrilling with a wild anxious suspenseful joy,
" you believe it to be possible "

" Do not excite yourself, my dear friend," I
said ; " and do not ask me to express any opinion,
which, if refuted by facts, would only stultify me
egregiously. We will examine this marble
structure, if jou will, and if we can find the
means But come !"

As if anticipating my purpose, Durazzo placed
himself at one end of the large slab which covered
the tomb-like marble masonry; and I took my
position at the other. But all attempts to lift, or
even to move it, were utterly vain.

" I wish we had a light," exclaimed Durazzo.
" Could we not on some pretence ■"

"Return to the farm for the means of procuring
a light .P No !" I said : " we must manage with-
out at least for the present. Ah !" I ejacu-
lated at the instant : " what is this ? An iron
knob ! — perhaps a secret spring ?"

The object which had elicited this ejaculation
from my lips, was, as I had said, an iron knob —
not exactly projecting beyond the surface of the
marble, but let into a hollow at that extremity of
the tomb-like structure against which I stood.
My hand, on quitting the edge of the slab, had
accidentally encountered it. I now pushed it-
then I endeavoured to draw it out — next I strove
to turn it : I exerted all my power to move it in
one way or another — but to no efiect. And yet
the conviction was strong within me that it was
made to move : indeed I believed that we were
standing upon the threshold of discoveries more
important than I had chosen to admit to be within
the range of my belief.

Durazzo now took his turn at examining the
knob — or rather of feeling it with his hands ; and
while he was thus engaged, I strained my eyes to
examine the appearance and all the details of the
marble structure as well as I was able. I found
another knob similarly let into a recess at the
other angle of the same extremity. I proceeded
to examine the opposite extremity or end of the
structure ; and there I found corresponding knobs.
Having imparted the discovery to Durazzo, I
said, " These contrivances are to give an uniform
appearance to the tomb, or whatever it be ; but
you may rest assured that in one of these four
knobs lies whatsoever secret or mystery there may
be. And here it is l"

For scarcely had I given expression to the idea,
when one of the iron knobs at the extremity where
Durazzo had previously attempted to lift the
marble slad, yielded to my hand. I had been
pushing and pulling, and then turning — when lo !
this particular knob did turn — but with the utmost
difficulty, as if it were much rusted. It kept on
turning: the movement soon grew quicker; and I
became aware that it worked on a screw — for it
was gradually coming farther and farther out from
the little hollow or recess in which it had been
fixed. At length it came off in my hand, leaving
a thick iron screw projecting about an inch from
the marble. I pushed the screw, and endeavoured
to move it in several directions — but all to no efiect.
It was utterly motionless.

" There is no secret nor mystery of any kind
attached to that," said Durazzo, when I had ex-
plained to him what was done. " These knobs are
mere ornaments — and they have been fixed on with
screws."

"It maybe so," I answered: "but I have a
strong conviction to the contrary."

I now passed back again to the other extremity
of the tomb-like structure; and I endeavoured to
move the iron knob which corresponded in position
with the one which I had succeeded in unscrewing.
Por several minutes all my efforts were vain ; and
I was on the point of abandoning them, when sud-
denly the knob gave way, and 1 fell backward.
There was a clang as of a bar of iron striking
against the marble ; — and such indeed proved to be
the fact : for I had drawn out a long rod the end
of which came in contact with the projecting base
of the marble structure.

262

JOSEPH WILMOT; OE, THE MEMOIRS OP A MAN-SEEVANT.

"What is it?" exclaimed Dui-nzzu: "have you
hurt voursclf, my dear friend ?"

"Not in the faintest degree," I answered. " But
I am very much mistaken if a portion of the mys-
tery is not already solved."

I showed Durazzo what I meant. The iron rod
which I had drawn out passed completely through
the marble masonry by means of a hole drilled
lengthways for the purpose : the iron knob which
I had first succeeded in unscrewing, kept the rod
tight; and the uniform contrivance of four of
these knobs was naturally calculated to prevent
suspicion that they were intended for any other
purpose than that of ornament.

"We had got thus far: and now we addressed
ourselves to the task of ascertaining to what results
the removal of the iron rod would lead. We again
attempted to raise the flat slab covering the struc-
ture—but all in vain.

" Wow, Durazzo," I said, " let us see if the front
of this marble coffer, tomb, or whatever it may be,
will move : for that the rod is intended as a fasten-
ing I am well conceived."

Constantine assisted me in the way that I had
just directed ; and behold ! the solid slab of marble,
forming what maybe termed the perpendicular front
of the coffei-, yielded to our hands and fell forward
with a heavy sound on the damp slimy floor of
the cavern. An ejaculation of joy burst from the
lips of Durazzo ; and I must confess that my own
feelings were fraught with a wild and indescribable
suspense. It was indeed natural that I should be
impressed with the conviction that a discovery of
the highest importance was at hand ; and for a few
instants I experienced a dizziness of the brain —
a vertigo that made me stagger. As for my com-
panion, the ejaculation which had burst from his
lips bore ample testimony to the intoxicating thrill
of hope that had suddenly glowed through his en-
tire frame.

" See what the contents are, my dear Wilmot !"
he exclaimed. " I was lately a chief elsewhere —
but you are the chief of this exploring enterprise ;
and you have a right to be the first to ascertain its
results !"

I introduced my hand into the marble cofier :
my touch encountered a small pile of objects which
sent another thrill of strangest, wildest sensations
thi 'Ugh me. I lifted one : its weight, its form,
its toch confirmed my hope — so that for a few
instants I felt as if intoxicated to such a degree
that I could not give utterance to a syllable.

"Durazzo," I at length said, rising up from my
crouching posture, " do not excite yourself : but —
but -you have no reason to regret the loss of the
Athene, so far as the ship itself is concerned — for
you will now be rich — ten thousand times richer
than in your wildest dreams you ever could have
anticipated !"

" Oh, it is not for myself! — it is for my
Leonora's sake!" — and the young Greek, throw-
ing himself into my arms, wept upon my shoulder.

CHAPTER CXXXII.

THE CASTLE OF MONTE D'OKO.

I MUST explain to the reader the contrivance of
this cofi'er. He has doubtless already compre-

hended that through the upper part of the front
an iron bar passed lengthways from end to end.
The front itself, consisting of a single marble slab,
was made to open downward, by means of massive
iron hinges at the bottom. Prom the top part of
the inner side of this moveable slab, three stout
pieces of iron projected. These irons had holes
through them ; and thus when the slab was closed,
the iron rod being thrust through those holes and
fastened with the knob that screwed on at the
other end, constituted a bolt as strong as it was
mysteriously contrived. I need scarcely again re-
peat that the fact of each extremity of the coffer
displaying two knobs in corresponding positions,
and thus giving them the appearance of mere
ornaments arranged with a due regard to uni-
formity— was full well calculated to avert the
suspicion that any secret belonged to either of
these knobs.

The cofi'er was found to contain a quantity of
bars of silver, with a much smaller proportion of
bars of the more precious metal. There were also
four jars full of gold and silver coins ; and there
was a fifth — a smaller jar — containing several
articles of jewellery, such as gold chains, crosses,
rings set with diamonds, and other valuables of
exquisite workmanship, as they subsequently
proved to be. The youthful page, who all this
while had been watching near the mouth of the
subterranean, was now made acquainted with the
important discovery which had rewarded our ex-
ploring enterprise ; and his joy knew no bounds.
It was not however a selfish joy — nor because he
hoped to share in the fruits of the discovery : but
it was a sincere and disinterested joy on Durazzo's
account and on my own. Ou Durazzo's account
— not because the page knew of his love for
Leonora or his union with her— but because of
the Athene being lost and the apparently hopeless
condition in which it had left him. On my ac-
count— because the young page had conceived the
greatest friendship towards me. Wild indeed was
his delight : but that of Constantine Durazzo was
almost equal to it. As for myself, I experienced
a profound happiness — an almost illimitable satis-
faction— but not on my own account ; it was en-
tirely on that of the two Grreeks —for my mind
was from the very first instant made up how to
act in reference to the treasure. As to what its
value might be, I could scarcely form an idea :
but even before I had spokeu to Durazzo on the
subject, I had the vague notion that it could not
possibly be less than fifty or sixty thousand pounds
— and perhaps much more. It was a long time
ere we could all three address ourselves soberly
and deliberately to the discussion of this or of any
other point.

" You may now understand," I at length said,
when the first gush of joyous congratulations and
wondering emotions had somewhat subsided,
" wherefore I counselled you that the inmates of
the farm should be in no way led to suspect aught
that we were doing here. If the discovery of the
treasure became noised abroad, it would be seized
upon by the authorities or else by the present
claimants to the patrimony of St. Bartholomew, —
none of whom would have so much right to it as
wo who have succeeded in disinterring it. And
now listen to me ! For while recommending that
measures of the utmost caution^should be observed

JOSEPH WIIMOT; OR, THE MEM0IE9 OP A MAN-SEBTANT.

263

in removing this treasure, I must emphatically and
deliberately add that it is all your own. I give ye
both my share "

" Impossible !" cried Durazzo : " we would not
and could not avail ourselves of such extraordinary
generosity. No!" he exclaimed, "rather let the
treasure remain here in this subterranean for
ever "

" "We will argue the point presently, my dear
friend," I interrupted him. " In the meanwhile
let us use all possible despatch to conceal the
treasure effectively, until a suitable opportunity
presents itself for its removal."

Dui-azzo at once acceded to the propriety of
this step,- and after a brief deliberation, it was
decided that the treasure should be left in its cun-
ningly contrived coffer, and that we would close
the mouth of the subterranean in such a way that
the mystery should escape the eye of any person
who might happen to wander amidst those ruins
previous to the removal of the wealth which we
had discovered. This proceeding we adopted. We
placed a huge stone at the summit of the flight of
steps: we then filled with earth the place which
had first given way beneath my feet : we trod it
down; and then we dragged some pieces of
masonry over it in such a manner that no one
could have suspected the mystery which was there
concealed.

Having thus completed our task, we sauntered
forth from the ruins : but there was such a perfect
intoxication oi joy expressed in the eyes of Con-
stantino Durazzo and the youthful page, that I said
to them, "Beware, my friends! your looks will be-
tray you."

"Let us walk as far as the ruins of the castle of
Monte d'Oro," said Durazzo. " Before we left the
farm this morning we intimated that it was our in-
tention so to do ; and it might seem strange if we
limited our excursion to the ruins of the monastery,
where indeed we have already stayed so long. Be-
sides, during this new jaunt we may converse at
our ease ; and we may also gain time for the sober-
ing down of our exalted feelings."

" Yes— let us repair to the ruins of the feudal
castle," I said. "It is a good long walk — about
five miles distant : but to us who are young and
with active limbs, it is nothing."

As we proceeded in the direction of the ruined
castle of Monte d'Oro, I renewed the subject which
had been so abruptly broken off amidst the ruins
of St. Bartholomew.

" My dear Durazzo," I said, " my determination
is unalterably fixed in respect to my share of that
treasure. Pray do not interrupt me — but grant
me your attention. I have enough for all my pre-
seut purposes — ample to last me for a few months
longer, until November next, when my fate will be
decided, and I shall either be crowned with happi-
ness and wealth, or else shall be reduced to that
condition of despair in which no wealth would
afford the slightest balm. But understand me
well ! Though I explain these alternatives of which
my destiny is susceptible, I have every hope of the
former and no apprehension of the latter. But in
either case, you see, Durazzo, that I need not
wealth obtained from such a source ; for even if I
myself were to take adrantagc of this opportunity
to acquire riches, Sir Matthew Heseltine would not
for an instant suffer me to retain them ; and more-

over the fact of my taking possession of them would
perhaps ruin me in his estimation."

" You conceive it therefore, Wilmot, an im-
moral act," said Durazzo, " for any of us to take
possession of that treasure ?"

" Let me explain myself," I answered. " It is
doubtless an illegal act : for all treasure thus dis-
covered in any country, goes to some particular
quarter indicated by the law. Then comes the
consideration whether my position is such as to
force me to commit an illegal act in order to en-
rich myself. It is not. But on the other hand
your's is. Now I am not so rigid a moralist nor
so particularly straight-laced — indeed, to speak
frankly, I should consider it the most miserable
affectation of a puritanical fastidiousness, were I
to counsel you to let that wealth slip between
your fingers. Properly speaking — morally speak-
ing— and rightfully speaking, that wealth belongs
to no one except the finder. Still the law declares
it is not the finder's : and therefore legally it be-
longs to some one in some other quarter. But I
do not hesitate to declare, Durazzo, that were I
in your position I would take possession of it —
though with me it is a consideration not to com-
mit an illegal act."

Durazzo listened with deep attention, and
walked on by my side in silence for several
minutes. He was reflecting profoundly. At
length he said, " I must insist, my dear Wilmot,
that you receive at least your share of this im-
mense wealth. At the lowest computatiou the
treasure cannot bo worth less than sixty thousand
pounds, reckoning in your English money. Will
you in a moment abandon that share which in
itself constitutes a fortune ? Sir Matthew Hesel-
tine need not know that you possess it : you can
convert it into gold — you can place the amount
in some foreign funds: it will be always a resource
to fall back upon in case of necessity."

We continued to argue the point until the
ruins of the castle of Monte d'Oro broke upon our
view: but I will not place on record all the reason-
ing that was advanced for or against my making
over my share of the treasure to my companions.
It would only weary the reader, without serving
the purposes of my narrative. Suffice it to say
that by the time we reached the castle ruins the
point was not settled, — myself being firm on the
one band to renounce my share, and Durazzo
being equally resolute on the other hand to en-
force my acceptance of what he regarded as my
due.

"And now let us drop the subj'.ct, at least for
the present," I said, as we entered amongst the
ruins : " for I have a fancy to inspect those rem-
nants of Cursicuu feudal grandeur in the oldoa
time."

The ruins of Moatc d'Oro covered, like those of
St. Bartholomew, a large space of ground ; but
Time had not worked its ravages here so eflectually
as in the other case. The dilapidations, though
great, did not approach so closely upon a cousurn-
mation of the work of destruction as in respect to
St. Bartholomew's, Large portions of the walls,
with their battlements, still remained : one round
tower was left unscathed so far as the solid masonry
was concerned, — though floors and roof and flij,'ht3
of stone stairs had disappeared; so that when
standing on the damp ground inside that tower,

264>

JOSEPH WIIMOT ; OB, THE MBMOIES OP A MiN-SERVANT.

find oa looking upward, naught was seen but the
circular shell— naught to impede the view of the
sky above.

On three sideg the moat remained, and was
filled with stagnant water. What once had been
an inner paved court-yard, was now a perfect wilder-
ness of wild plants. It was by no means difficult
to trace, by the remnants of the walls, what had
once been the configuration of the entire castle. A
drawbridge had led to a gateway protected by two
round towers — one of which still existed so far as
I have above described it. The ramparts had
formed nearly a square — or rather a parallelogram :
there had been ranges of buildings adjoining the
gateway and stretching into the interior of the in-
closure — in the midst of which had stood the Castle
Keep or Donjon. Of this last-mentioned edifice a
portion of a wall, containing a doorway and win-
dows, still remained; and a glimpse might be
caught of the dark depth of a subterranean — pro-
bably once containing the dungeons of the fortalice
— but the entrance to which was now almost com-
pletely choked up by fragments of masonry over-
grown with weeds.

As in the case of the monastery of St. Bartho-
lomew, my imagination was enabled to restore the
Castle of Monte d'Oro to its original condition, and
to people it with those who belonged to its various
compartments in an age that was past. I could
fancy that I beheld steel-clad warriors thronging
upon the ramparts, and could hear the clank of
their armour and their martial weapons. Me-
thought that from the Keep — that Keep which
imagination had restored to its grey old sombre-
looking massive completeness — I beheld some proud
bearer of the title of Monte d'Oro issue forth, clad
in a gay hunting.costume, which was warlike also
— and mounting a grandly caparisoned steed, to
go forth to the chase. Then methought the court-
yard was crowded with a gay company — knights
and ladies, and countless attendants ; and that the
pavement sounded with the pawings of impatient
steeds and of graceful palfreys. I could fancy the
huntsman surrounded by his dogs — the deep -baying
Corsican hounds which would track men as well as
deer— the falconer with a bird upon his wrist — and
the crowds of light-hearted young pages who were
as eager as their superiors for the sport. Or on
the other hand my imagination could depict darker
and sterner scenes— scenes in which the red blood
was flowing in deadly strife, and where the horrid
din of battle was roaring up to heaven. I could
fancy swarms of desperate besiegers clinging to the
very walls like bees— and then smitten down by
the defenders on the ramparts, to perish in the
moat, or else to return to the assault again.

But here I must stop short, lest the reader
should fancy that I suffered my imagination to riot
and revel too extensively in these vagaries : and I
must fall back into the sober truthfulness of my
autobiography. Durazzo and myself, together with
the young page, wandered amidst the ruins for up-
wards of an hour ; and at length we sate down to
rest. It was now two o'clock in the afternoon :
we had partaken of no refreshment since the morn-
ing— our rambles had been long — our toil at the
monastic ruins had been wearisome — and we felt
both hungry and thirsty. No habitation was near ;
and I observed to Durazzo, " As for water, we may
obtain it at the rivulet which we crossed about half

a mile hence : but as for food, methinks we shall
obtain none until we get back to our quarters."

At that moment a figure emerged round the
angle of a ruined wall ; and we at once became
aware of the presence of a gentleman of com-
manding appearance. He was tall — at least sis
feet high — perfectly upright— with a graceful car-
riage of his well-knit form, which was slender and
symmetrical. His age might be about forty : his
complexion was of a dusky olive — his dark eyes
were keenly bright— his jetty brows strongly pen-
cilled. Handsome he assuredly was : but he had
a look that was either careworn or dissipated —
methought the former— and yet I was not sure
that it might not have been both. He was well
dressed ; and a handsome cloak with velvet collar
was thrown loosely over his shoulders, and only just
retained by its braided black silk cords, which ter-
minated in tassels. His appearance was aristo-
cratic; and he accosted us with a manner that
was characterized by kind urbanity and polished
courtesy. ^

I had spoken in French to Durazzo ; and the
stranger now addressed us in the same tongue.

" I need scarcely proffer an apology," he said,
" for having been an unwilling listener to the re-
marks which one of you gentlemen were making ;
and if you will permit me, I shall cheerfully share
that luncheon with which I took care to provide
myself before coming to inspect these ruins."

Thus speaking, the gentleman produced from
beneath his cloak a small basket, the contents of
which he speedily spread on a white napkin, — a
large stone serving for a table. There was a cold
pie, with a small loaf; and these were to be washed
down by a bottle of wine— although he observed,
smiling, that we must all be contented to share the
same glass, for he had not foreseen that he should
be honoured with company to his little bmquet
amidst the lonely ruins of the castle of Monte
d'Oro. Durazzo and I expressed our acknowledg-
ments for his courtesy ; and neither we, nor the
page, experienced any embarrassment in availing
ourselves of it: for he was a personage whose
manners were calculated to place even the most
bashful and diffident immediately at their ease.
He appeared to be thoroughly good-natured as well
as a man of the world and accustomed to good
society ; for he did the honours, so to speak, of
his table in a manner which rendered the little en-
tertainment as agreeable as it was welcome.

" I need scarcely ask," he said, " whether you
be strangers and therefore mere visitors in these
parts ; for I see that you are not Corsicans. You,
sir, I presume," he continued, addressing himself
specially to me, "are either a German or an Eng-
lishman ?"

" I am an Englishman," was my answer.

" I know your country well," proceeded the
stranger, now addressing me in English, which he
spoke with fluency. " I have visited it on more
occasions than one, and have lived in London for
several years. Your companions I take to be
Greeks ?"

I gave an affirmative response ; and the stranger
at once addressed Durazzo and the page in their
own language — thus proving that he was a good
linguist. Almost immediately afterwards he ro-
adopted the French tongue, and went on convers-
ing with all the ease of manner, the urbanity, and

jcsr.rH \vn.:joT; oe, the memoirs of a man-sekvant.

275

.'^#>^/p{__"~"

the absence of pretension, which denoted the
polished gentleman. He asked us no questions
respecting whatsoever business we might have in
that part of the country : but on his own side he
gave us to understand that he was travelling for
his pleasure, and that he had been led by curiosity
to visit the ruins of a building which was con-
nected with the memory of a fearful legend. In
the course of his observations it transpired that his
name was Turano, and that though a Corsican
by birth, he had lived chiefly in foreign countries,
his independent means enabling him to gratify his
t:iste for travelling. I asked hira if he had visited
the ruins of the monastery of St. Bartholomev,? ? —
and he replied in the affirmative, stating that he
had passed several hours there a week back, when
he had made a sketch of whatsoever remained of
the old monastic pile. This sketch he showed ;
and it was executed in a manner which indicated
that a proficiency in drawing was amongst the
86.

number of the accomplishments possessed by our
new acquaintance.

In return for his confidence, we explained to
him that we had been shipwrecked on the island,
and that we had been hospitably entertained at a
farni-house near the scene of the catastrophe. He
had heard of the shipwreck, and felicitated us on
our escape. It farther transpired, in the course
of his own observations, that he intended to leave
that part of the country in the course of the day ;
and he politely expressed the hope that we should
meet again. We separated from our new acquain-
tance, much pleased with the urbanity of his
manner, and grateful for the generous kindue&she
had exhibited in so hospitably inviting us to par-
take of his repast.

During our walk homeward, Durazzo revived
that topic which had been interrupted by the in-
spection of the ruins of the castle of Monte d'Oro
and by our falling in with Signor Turano. Con-

266

JOSEPH WIIMOT ; OB, ITSTE MEMOIES OP A MAN-SEEVANT.

stantine besought me to reconsider my decision in
respect to the treasure : but I remained firm ; and
having reiterated my former arguments, earnestly
begged that the subject might be dropped. But
T)urazzo persisted in reasoning with me on the
poin he urged everything that his generous
nature could suggest — he was profoundly vexed
and grieved at the resoluteness with which I ad-
hered to my first decision. He even fancied that
I should regard it as a slur upon himself that he
took what I refused to make use of, and that it
was uothing but the most punctilious propriety of
feeling on my part which prevented me from
availing myself of such a golden opportunity. I
said all I could to induce him to assent to the
arrangement I had suggested — or I should rather
say that I advanced everything to enforce my de-
cision and put an end to tjie topic : but he re-
turned again and again thereto, until our arrival
at the farm-house necessarily put an end to it.

It was dusk when we reached the hospitable
homestead ; and on entering the cheerful parlour,
we found a stranger there. This was a young man
who appeared to be about my own age, and who
was dressed in the most elegant fashion. He was
by no means good-looking : but there was some-
thing interesting in his countenance and pleasing
in his manners. His hair was light — his com-
plexion fair ; and at the first glance I took him to
be a fellow-countryman of my own, or at all events
a native of a more northern clime than that in
which we thus met. Nevertheless, as I presently
learnt, Corsican blood flowed in his veins; and he
bore the name of Leone. It appeared that he had
arrived in the neighbourhood on horseback, at-
tended by a valet ; and that for reasons which will
be presently explained, he bad sought the hospi-
tality of the farm-house.

I may as well detail in a narrative form, that
which came to my knowledge through the medium
of conversation : but iu order to render this ex-
planation clear, I must go back to those circum-
stances which relate to the monastery of St. Bar-
tholomew, and which have been laid before the
reader. It was the custom, on the election of an
abbot, for the whole ecclesiastical patrimony to be
duly invested in him : he was a temporal Baron as
well as a spiritual prelate; and thus whosoever
wore the mitre of St. Bartholomew was for the
time being as much the owner of the monastery
and domain as any other nobleman or gentleman
was the possessor of his own family estate. The
last Abbot of St. Bartholomew was cut off by a
violent death in the manner already described ;
and as the monastery was reduced to a ruin and
the monks were dispersed, no other Abbot was
elected. The last of that series of mitred Prelates
thus died in virtual possession of the whole domain
of St. Bartholomew. He left behind him a
brother — a weak, imbecile, and time-serving man,
who had not the courage nor the magnanimity to
take any steps to avenge the Abbot's death or to
punish his murderer the Count of Monte d'Oro.
The brother thus alluded to, and who lived at
Ajaccio, bore the name of Leone ; and he had for
the greater portion of his life been engaged in
mercantile and financial pursuits. He was mar-
ried and had a family : but becoming an object of
persecution ou the part of the Genoese authoritit's,
despite the servile zeal he displayed in endeavour-

ing to conciliate them, he fled from his native
island and fixed his abode iu France. This was
some little while after the murder of his brother
and the destruction of the monastery. In subse-
quent years the Leone family migrated from
France to England, where in process of time they
formed matrimonial connexions ; and their Corsi-
can blood thus became blended with that of the
English. The young gentleman whom I now
found at the farm-house, was the last living scion
of that family of Leone, and was therefore the
only existing representative of the race to which
the murdered Abbot had belonged. Upwards of
a century and a half had elapsed since the date of
that terrific tragedy ; and thus did I find myself
in the presence of one who reckoned the venerable
victim of the crime amongst his ancestry.

I need hardly remind the reader that the rul«
of the Genoese had long ceased in Corsica, and
that it now belonged to France. The troubles
which the island had at various times experienced,
the distracted state into which it had been fre-
quently thrown, the arbitrary decrees of one set of
rulers altering and upsetting the territorial grants
and landed apportionments of a previous set, had
necessarily led to an almost interminable confusion
as well as to constant litigation on the part of the
holders, claimants, and pretenders with respect to
different estates. Sanguinary feuds and family
hatreds, terrific animosities and appalling reprisals,
as well as those hereditary vendettas, or revenges,
which have proved so dark a stigma upon the Cor-
sican character, — all these were amongst the
natural consequences of those disputes which I
have been describing in respect to the land. At
length the French Chamber of Deputies took the
subject into consideration ; and a measure passed
the two bodies of the Legislature at Paris for the
regulation of what v,-as termed the Corsican Land-
question. The result was the institution of a
Special Commission at Ajaccio, to examine into
the grounds on which disputed estates were held
by present occupants, as well as into the founda-
tion on which the pretensions of claimants were
based. The appointment of such a commission
naturally produced the utmost excitement in Cor-
sica ; for many holders of estates were stricken
with alarm, while many hitherto hopeless claimants
were inspired with joy. Tliere was a sufficient
military force to suppress any disturbance that
might arise ; and thus the Commissioners were
enabled to proceed uninterruptedly with the im-
portant business that came under their jurisdiction.
Being thoroughly able and upright men, they con-
ducted this business not merely with despatch but
also with the most rigid adherence to the justice
of each special case ; and I must farther observe
that the Commission had already been in existence
a twelvemonth at the time when shipwreck threw
me and my Greek companions upon the Corsican
shore.

It may be easily conceived that the result of the
Commissioners' labour was to eflfect considerable
changes in the distribution of Corsican lands.
Families which had long held estates on no better
ground than the maxim " that possession is nine
points of the law," found themselves dispossessed
and were forced to make way for the legitimate
owners : the wealthy became poor — the poor be-
came wealthy ; and thus a complete revolution of

JOSEtH WILMOT ; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT.

267

a legal and peaceful character was going on in the
island. It was this circumstance which had
brought the young Leone to Corsica, and which
led him now to visit the patrimony that he claimed
as the only living male descendant of the family
to which the murdered Prelate of a century and a
half back had belonged.

This young gentleman was an orphan, and had
only just come of age. His father was a lineal
descendant of ihe old Corsican family of Leone : his
mother was an English lady. He had inherited a
decent fortune : but he had no objection to aug-
ment his wealth, if possible, by the recovery of the
domain of St. Bartholomew. Until within a few
months of the period of which I am writing,
Leone had resided in England : but on attaining
his majority, and on hearing of the existence of
the Land Commission at Ajaceio, he had set oflf to
advance his claims. The lawyers whom he em-
ployed found the question a complicated one.
Archives were searched, old registers were referred
to, and the decrees of the Genoese authorities at
the time they held the island had to be investi-
gated. It was found out that most of the families
that had held portions of the patrimony of St.
Bartholomew since the destruction of the monas-
tery, had really no right whatever to the possession
of them : while others appeared to have better
claims, which would of course be all the more dif-
ficult to dispute. The greatest difficulty of all lay,
however, in the belief that the G-enocse authorities
had at the time of the destruction of the monas-
tery, made over the lands to that Count of Monte
d'Oro who was the author of the tragedy ; and
though no documentary evidence had as yet been
discovered to corroborate the belief, yet it was held
not merely possible, but even probable that some
such musty old parchment would be found to have
existence — in which case it would be for Leone to
show that the family of ilonte d'Oro was extinct,
and that there was no lineal representative of that
race to dispute his claim. Herein lay the gre.it
difBculty of making good that claim : for although
it seemed morally certain that the family was ex-
tinct, it was nevertheless a far from easy task to
substantiate the fact by positive proof. Leoue's
lawyers at Ajaceio were however actively employed
in preparing the case ; and in the meanwhile the
young gentleman himself had journeyed to the
patrimony of Bartholomew, not merely to visit a
property which he claimed and which he had never
seen before, but likewise in the hope of picking up
some traditionary intelligence that might be ren-
dered available in the prosecution of his case.
Therefore, on arriving in the neighbourhood, ho
had addressed himself to the farmer, whose family
had so long resided upon the estate; and he was
at once invited to partake of the hospitalities of
the homestead.

Such were the circumstances which my Greek
companions and myself now learnt on our return
to the farm, and which I hope I have been enabled
to render perfectly intelligible to the reader.
Leone was an amiable young man ; and we soon
found ourselves on friendly terms with him. We
stated that we had been visiting the remnants alike
of the monastery and of the castle : we mentioned
our meeting with a gentleman named Turano who
like ourselves had been led by curiosity to inspect
tl»9 ruins of Monte d'Oro ; but we said nothing

with reference to the discovery of the treasure in
the subterranean of the cemetery at St. Bartholo-
mew's. We sate up conversing till a somewhat
late hour ; and on retiring to our chambers, I care-
fully reviewed all that I had heard during the
evening.

CHAPTER CXXXm.

Ip for a single moment I had hesitated in respect
to the course which I should adopt concerning the
mysteriously discovered treasure, that uncertainty
would have been at once dispelled by the appear-
ance of a claimant to the patrimony of St. Bar-
tholomew. I could not possibly have satisfied
my own conscience that I was justified in self-
appropriating any portion of that wealth. At the
same time I did not feel disposed to prevent Du-
razzo from acting as he might think fit. Leone's
claim, if ultimately established, could only be pro-
nounced good through a mere legal fiction, and not
from any moral or natural right that he had to the
patrimony of St. Bartholomew. The investment
of that patrimony in the person of his ancestor the
murdered Abbot, was never intended with a view
to its traditionary bequeathment to any members
of the Leone family — but was only a requisite
form that was adopted with regard to each succes-
sive Abbot. Therefore I did not consider Leone's
claim to be of such a nature as to impose upon me
the moral obligation of miking him aware of the
existence of that treasure : I felt that my own
conscience would be satisfied by allowing the
matter to take its chance, so long as I washed my
hands of it. This consideration — together with the
pertinacity, well meant though it were, with which
Durazzo had returned again and again to the sub-
ject— decided me on the course I should now adopt,
— which was to take my departure from the farm
immediately after breakfast on the following morn-
ing.

But whither should I go ? I had yet several
months to pass ere the arrival of the day on which
I was to present myself at Heseltine Hall. After
a little consideration I resolved on returning to
Italy. I was desirous to learn what became of
Lanover and Dorchester at Lesfhorn, and also per-
sonally to thank the Count of Livorno for the kind
fidelity with which he had executed the request
contained in my letter. I was moreover anxious
to return to Eome to see my friends there, and to
be present at the bridal of the Count of Avellino
with Antonia di Tivoli. But on the other hand,
now that I was once in Corsica I did not feel dis-
posed to leave it without visiting the capital city
of Ajaceio, which I already knew was only about
fifty miles from my present temporary quarters.
Thither I therefore resolved to proceed in the fii'st
instance, and thence pass back to Italy.

At breakfast-time in the morning I stated, in
the presence of the farmer and his family, as well
as in that of Leone and my Greek companions,
that I purposed to take my departure as speedily
as convenient for Ajaceio,— advancing as a pretext
the alleged necessity of sending off letters to some
I friends in England. Durazzo and the page looked

268

JOSEPH WIIMOT; OR, THE MEM0IT13 OP A MAN-SERTANT.

surprised : but 1 hastened to say to thoiu, " You,
my dear friends, have nothing to precipilate your
departure ; and we may soon meet again."

I then inquired of the farmer as to the best
means of getting across to Ajaccio. He offered
that one of his sons should drive me in their chaise-
cart to the nearest inland town, which was about
seven miles off, and where I could procure a post-
chaise to convey me for the remainder of my jour-
ney. This proposal I thankfully accepted, — adding
that I was prepared to start so soon as the vehicle
itself could be gotten in readiness.

On leaving the breakfast table, Durazzo fol-
lowed me ; and drawing me aside into another
room, he said with mingled sorrow and reproach-
fulness, "Your departure, my dear Wilmot, is ex-
ceedingly precipitate."

"I will deal with you frankly, Durazzo," I an-
swered. " Your generosity incessantly revives the
one topic on which 1 am decided; and I go hence
to leave the field completely open for your pro-
ceedings. To one of your experience it would be
almost insulting to proftVr any advice relative to
the caution which must be used in removing the
treasure : but if you permit me "

" By all means, Wilmot, favour mo with your
advice," said Durazzo. "How would you counsel
me to act ?"

" I should advise you to remain here until to-
morrow morning, when you can leave at about the
same hour as that at which I am now going to
lake my own departure. You had better name
Bastia as your destination : for if you said Ajaccio,
it would naturally seem strange that we did not
all leave together. The chaisccart can convey
you to the nearest town on your route : there you
can remain for the dwy; and in the evening, when
the dusk has set in, you can retrace your steps to
the ruins of the monastery. I merely throw out
these Lints for your consideration : but perhaps
your own experience and judgment may enable
you to improve upon the plan."

" No — I shall adopt your counsel," answered
Duriizzo. " But once more, my dear Wilmot, and
fur the last time "

"I entreat you to recui" not to the topic on
which my resolution is so unalterably taken ! And
now, my dear Durazzo," 1 continued, " as we are
about to part, let me with the utmost sincerity
wish you all possible health and happiness! — may
prosperity attend upon you— and may your future
career be one of uninterrupted bliss in the pos-
session of your Leonora! We may perhaps meet
again : but if not, remember thac I shall always
be glad to receive tidings from you. Between
this and November next I know not well where
you can write to me, inasmuch as during this in-
terval I shall most probably be a bird of passage
over the Continent. But after November, if you
will direct your letters to mo at the General Post
Office in Loudon, they will be sure to re. ch me.
And now, ray friend, farewell !"

"Farewell, Wilmot— farewell, my dear friend!"
answered Durazzo, eiisbracing me. " Never shall
1 forget you ! As for my future career, rest as-
sured that it shall be one calculated to atone for
the past. Farewell, Wilmot! — and may heaven
bless you !"

We were both deeply moved as we thus ex-
changed our adieus ; and the chaise-cart being now

ready, the instant of separation had arrived. I
bade a friendly farewell to the young page : I ex-
pressed my most grateful thanks to the farmer and
his family for their hospitality ; and I likewise took
leave of Signor Leone. I ascended into the vehicle,
which the farmer's eldest sou was to drive to the
nearest town; and thus I took my departure from
that homestead. In about an hour we reached the
town, where I separated from the farmer's son,^
who resolutely but respectfully refused the remu-
neration I would have lorced upon him : but I
made up my mind to remit from Ajaccio some tokeu
of my gratitude to the lad's family. I procured a
post-chaise, and in the afternoon reached the Co;«
sican capital in safety.

I took up my quarters at the principal hotel ;
and my first care v/as to go forth and make such
purchases as were absolutely necessary. The cir-
cular letter of credit had been so well secured in
my pocket-book at the time o. the shipwreck, that
though it had got wet by my immersion, its con-
tents were far from obliterated on its being dried
at the fire at the farm-house. I was thus enabled
to procure a supply of ready money at a Banker's
in Ajaccio; and my orders were speedily given to
such tradesmen as it was necessary to deal with for
the re equipment of my wardrobe. I also pur-
chased some presents for the farmer and his family ;
and despatched thein by the readiest means of con-
veyance. In the evening, at the hotel, when dining
in the coffee-room, I got into conversation with au
intelligent Corsican gentleman; and from motives
of passing curiosity, I questioned him relative to
tbo Land Commission that was sitting in that
capital. I casually mentioned that I had recently
fallen in with Signor Leone, the claimant to the
patrimony of St. Bartholomew: but I did not
however say where 1 thus met him. The Corsican
appeared to be well informed in respect to the
merits of the case, so far as it could be yet
known,

" That Signer Leone will succeed in establishing
his claim," observed the gentleman, "there are con-
flicting opinions. It is perfectly certain that the
Commissioners will decide according to the legal
evidence, and not according to what may be termed
the actual merits of the case. Thus, if the Monte
d'Oro claimant shall bo enabled to prove that the
Genoese authorities veritably and actually granted
the St. Bartholomew estate at the time to his
fierce ancestor, the Commissioners will not dispute
the justice of that grant: they are not appointed
to judge the equity of the question, but merely to
decide according to the documents placed before
thera. Thus any record of such grant that can be
ferreted out, will bo hold as possessing the
validity of a title-deed; and the case will be given
against Signor Leone. But if on the other hand
no such record can be discovered, then the Monte
d'Oro claimant will lose the cause."

" But I am given to understand," I said,
"that the family of Monte d'Oro has become
utterly extinct — that there is no living represen-
tative "

" On the contrary," interrupted the Corsican
gentleman : " there is every reason to believe that
the lineal descendants of the Count of Monte
d'Oro are still in existence."

"Indeed!" I exclaimed, with some degree of
astonishment. " Signor Leone assured me the

vi'.y cuntmry — it was only as receutly as Idst
evening "

" It may be so," responded the Corsiean ; " be-
Ciuse it was only this morning that a statement
of a particular nature was made to the Commis-
S oners. What the precise terms of that state-
ment might have been, I cannot tell you, because
th?y have not transpired: but I happen to be
aciiiainted with one of Signor Leone's counsel,
wh > informed me this afternoon, in the course of
ooacersation, of what liad come to his knowledge.
As you may suppose, the existence of the Commis-
sion has furnished active employment to all the
attoruies and advocates of Ajaccio; and it has
done even more. It has put a number of enter-
prising agents and men of business upon the
sL-ent to ferret out pedigrees, to trace genealogies,
and to examine into musty title-deeds. Some of
these individuals, more speculative than the rest,
have taken the trouble and gone to the expense
of sending agents to foreign countries to search
out those who may now claim Corsiean estates :
a.id wherever the slightest cino lias been obtained
tJ the residences of such possible claimants, these
agents have set themselves to work. I must now
iaform you that there is a keen shrewd man of
business at Ajaccio, named Castelli ; and this
p.'rson has been more active as well as more suc-
cessful than any other in ferreting the descendants
ol ancient families who years and years back had
tiieir estates forcibly taken from them or other-
wise unjustly alienated. It was not to be supposed
tiiat so fine a domain as that of Monte d'Oro,
t:)gether with the possibly contingent claim on tLo
patrimony of St. Bartholomew, would escape the
notice of so shrewd and enterprising a man as this
Castelli. By some means or another he dis-
cjvered a clue to the lineal descendants, as he
b.^ieves, of the last Count of Monte d'Oro : he has
spared no expense in following up this clue, with
t'ae hope that a successfully conducted suit will be
productive of an ample gain to himself; and it
was to some far-distant country that ho despatched
a trusty agent. That agent returned to Ajaccio
last evening by a vessel from a foreign port ; and
this morning, as I have already told you, Signor
Cistelli made some important private announce-
m3i;t to the Royal Commissioners. At this pciut
my knowledge of the case stops: but it is ru-
moured that the researches of Castelli's agent have
bsen successful, and that a lineal descendant of the
last Count of Monte d'Oro will at some early day
be forthcoming."

'■ These will be evil tidings to Signor Leone," I

observed. "He is however well nff But," I

Slid, interrupting myself, "it docs not follow that
because a claimant to the Monte d'Oro title and
property should be forthcoming, be will likewise
be enabled to claim the patrimony of St. Bar-
tholomew."

" Certainly not," remarked the Corsiean gentle-
man. " It is however Castelli himself who declares
that the patrimony of St. Bartholomew ^vas made
over at the time by the G-enoese authorities to the
Count of Monte d'Oro "

"And yet," I interrupted my informant, "there
does not appear to be any tradition that the Count
of Monte d'Oro assumed the lordship of the patri-
mony of St. Barth(;lumew. Or. the contrary, the
(ecclesiastical domain, was sutTcred to become a

waste, save and except with regard to some few
portions "

"True," remarked my Corsiean informant: "but
it is understood that Signor Castelli explains away
the difficulty which has just suggested itself to
you as it has suggested itself to others. Castelli
says that such was the indignation which prevailed
in that part of the country at the time, in conse-
quence of the murder of the Abbot, the destruction
of the monastery, and the dispersion of the monks,
that the Count of Monte d'Oro, ferocious and
determined though he were, dared not immediately
incorporate the ecclesiastial property with his own
estates ; but that he bided his time until the lapse
of a fovv years should have smoothed down the
memory of his fearful crimes. It is further alleged
that he was about to exercise his rights — if rights
they may be called — when he met his death by
falling over a precipice."

"All this is ingenious enough on Signor Cas-
telli's part," I said; "and it is no doubt speciously
reasoned. But the Commissioners will require
proof "

"Assuredly!" answered the Corsiean; "they
will require the documentary evidence that the
Greuoese rulers of the island did really at the time
make over the ecclesiastical lands to the Count of
Monte d'Oro. If this proof be forthcoming, Cas-
telli's explanation of why the Count did not at
once assume possession of those lauds, becomes
stamped with truth."

" And how can he even pretend," I asked, " to
explain matters which occurred upwards of a cen-
tury and a half ago ?"

" From the simple fact," responded the Corsiean,
"that Castelli's is an old-established legal agency ;
and his ancestors managed the concerns of the
Counts of Monte d'Oro."

" Ah, that is different ;" I ejaculated. " At all
events, if a Monte d'Oro claimant should coiue
forward, the case will be one of extraordinary in-
terest."

'■' Such is the general anticipation," replied the
Corsiean gentleman. " For myself, I have no more
personal concern in it than you yourself appear to
have : but yet it's a case in which one feels consi-
derable curiosity."

Our discourse soon afterwards terminated; and
I retired to rest. Throughout the following day I
amused myself by walking about Ajaccio and view-
ing whatsoever was worth seeing. Nothing of any
consequence occurred ; and in the evening I dined
alone in the cofl'ee-room, for the Corsiean gentle-
man had some other engagement.

After breakfast on the ensuing morning I ram-
bled forth again: and thus passed three or four
hours. I wondered within myself whether Da-
razzo and the young page had followed my counsel
in respect to tho removal of the treasure duriug
the past night : and I was almost sorry that I had
not asked Constantiiie to write to me from Bastia,
informing me what he h:id done. However, as I
could not possibly contemplate any obstacle to his
complete success, I took it for granted that he had
succeeded; and that he was by this time in the
possession of an immense fortune. It was about
two o'clock when I returned to the hotel to par-
take of luncheon; and the moment I entered thcs
coS'ee-room, the Corsiean gentleman, whom I found
there, started up from a table at which he was

270

JOSEPH WILMOT; OE, THB MEMOrES OP A MAN-SKBVANT.

seated, exclaiming, " Have you heard the intelli-
gence ?"

" I have heard nothing particular," was my re-
sponse. " What has happened ?"

" Signer Leone — the unfortunate young man,"
replied the Corsican,— " a mere youth— Oh, it is
horrible— he is murdered !"

" Murdered !" I echoed, starting back in horror.
" What ? that amiable young mau who seemed in-
capable of injuring a soul !"

" Yes — he is murdered !" ejaculated the Corsicaa
gentleman. " He was found at a late hour last

evening amidst the ruins of St. Bartholomew "

" Amidst the ruins ? Good heavens !"
"Yes — but thank God, his assassins are disco-
vered !" was the Corsican's quick response. " They

are two Greeks "

"Two Greeks?"— and such a deadly chill smote
me that I might have been knocked down with a
straw.

"Ah ! you may well be horrified," continued
the Corsicaa, " when you think that one whom you
so recently saw in the enjoyment of vigorous life,
has been thus suddenly cut off by the hand of
assassination !"

" But two Greeks ?" I faltered out : for I was
well nigh lost in mingled horror, distress, and
amazement. " Are you sure that they are two
Greeks ?"

" There is not a doubt of it," replied the Corsi-
can. "They had been shipwrecked — they were
staying at the same farm-house as Signor

Leone "

" Good God ! is it possible ?" I ejaculated : and
I was just on the very point of procla'ming that I
had been shipwrecked with them, when the thought
suddenly flashed to my mind that it was possible I
might be unpleasantly questioned in respect to the
character of the lost ship and of the Greeks : I
therefore withheld the precise words I was about
to utter— and said, "But I was staying a day or
two in that very neighbourhood ! It was there
that I met Signor Leono; and the two Greeks
themselves are likewise known to me. From all
that I have seeu of them I should consider it im-
possible "

But then I stopped short, as a sickening idea
that it must all be too true arose in my mind
What if Durazzo and the page had been inter-
rupted by the presence of Leoue in the midst of
the process of removing the treasure .'' what if
Leone had threatened to expose them, or even to
give them into custody ? and what if Durazzo,
goaded to desperation by this suddon recurrence of
evil fortune, had dealt the young man an assaasin-
blow ? Alas, it did indeed seem as if circum-
stantial evidence were damnatory against him, and
that his faithful — perhaps too faithful dependant
had become implicated in the crime ! Yes, the idea
was both horrible and sickening : for what would
now become of the wretched Leonora?

"Do you know the circumstances," I inquired,
in a tone full of mournfuluess — and 1 felt that
my looks were of a kindred expression, — "do you
know the circumstances of this most terrible
tragedy ?"

" 1 know nothing more than the lew details I
Lave given you," answered the Corsican. "The
tidings were brought to Leone's l.iwycrs by a mes-
sender from the town tbat is nearest to the scene

of the tragedy. We shall know everything in the
course of the day ; because the prisoners will be
conveyed in cliains to Ajaccio."

" And yet it appears to be a dream !" I said :
"for those Greeks are quite youug— one indeed
a mere boy ; and it seems absolutely impos-
sible "

" I am afraid," answered the Corsican, " that
you will find it all too true. It must indeed ap-
pear astounding as it is horrible that of three per-
sons with whom you have lately been tbrown in
contact, one i^ murdered and the other two are his
murderers."

I was indeed both horrified and astounded. I
felt the necessity of being alone for a short period
to compose my feelings, if sitch composure wera
possible : I accordingly withdrew to my chamber,
and sate down to reflect on everything I had heard.
Durazzo a murderer! Ah, though he had been a
pirate, I could scarcely reconcile it with my ideas
of his character that he should now become an
assassin ! — though he had spilt blood in the midst
of battle, I could barely comprehend how it was
possible he could have taken life as a murderer !
And yet how could I doubt the tale which had
reached my ears? Alas, alas! I thought within
myself, that Durazzo should have come to this —
that for the sake of gold he should have yielded
up his soul to Satan — and that the mere boy of a
page should have become implicated in so terrible
a deed of turpitude !

CHAPTER CXXXIV.

THE MUBDEE.

An hour afterwards I found myself walking in tbe
street; and I really had no recollection of how I
got thitlicr. I could not for the life of me remem-
ber coming forth from the hotel — much less of in-
wardly expressing the volition to issue from my
chamber. I was under the influence of a sort of
consternation : a stupendous dismay appeared to
sit upon my soul. To think that that young man,
Constantine Durazzo Kanaris, who presented such
a perfect model of masculine beauty, should be
doomed to the axe of the guillotine — tbat he should
die branded with the foul crime of murder— and
that he should leave his Leonora to the heart-
breaking misery that must be her lot — all these
appeared eventualities the bare contemplation of
which stupefied and appalled me.

I was proceeding slowly along a street without
taking the slightest notice of any single object — as
much alone as if rambling amidst the awful soli-
tude of a desert — when all of a sudden I beard
many loud ejaculations; and I was startled into a
degree of consciousness of what was passing around
me. I perceived a crowd collecting in the street: a
glance at the houses showed me that the casements
were thronged with faces ; and all eyes were turned
towards the extremity of the thoroughfare. There
were the trainpliiigs of steeds and the sounds n*"
weapon?, mingled with the heavy rambling of
wheels; and behold ! seated in a post-chaise were
Duiazzo and the young page, together witti a
couplo of gendarmes ; while a pii.-quet of the sa;ae
police rode by the side of the vehicle. I averted

JOSEPH WIIMOT; OB, THE MEMOIRS OP A MAN-SERVANT.

271

nay countenance, and stepped back : I could not
look again upon that spectacle. The equipage
passed — the crowd swept by, foUowiug it to the
police-court; and I was now left alone on the
pavement in that part of the street. In a few
minutes another post-chaise caoje rolling on from
the same direction as the former ; and tlie closed
blinds at once enabled me to comprehend that this
second vehicle contained the corpse of the de-
ceased. Upon the box two persons were seated ;
and these I instantaneously recognised to be the
farmer and his eldest son. This recognition was
mutual. I sprang forward ; and calling to the
postilion to stop, esclaimed to the farmer, " Is it
possible that they have done this ?"

"Alas, sir," was the worthy man's response, "it
is ouly too true ; and I shudder when I think that
such wretches were ever in my house. As for you,
sir, we have the greatest respect for you : we are
vifell aware that there could have been nothing in
common as regards character and feelings between
yourself and those infamous young men."

"But tell me all about it !" I hastily said, in a
state of feverish excitement : " it appears to me
incredible "

The farmer spoke to his son, who forthwith de-
scended from the box to-join me: the equipage
then continued its way. 1 conducted the farmer's
son to my hotel : for I would not converse with
him on such a subject in the open street, althoujrh
I was full of a horrible suspense to know the de-
tails of the frightful crime.

" And now tell me everything," I said to the
young man when we were alone together in a
sitting-room at the hotel.

" It seems, sir, that after you left the farm," he
commenced, " in the morning of the day before
yesterday, Signor Leone went out for a ramble ;
and he took the path leading to the ruins of the
monastery. This was while I was driving you
over to the town. The instant Leone had said
he should go and look at the ruins, my father saw
what he took to be a peculiar look exchanged be-
tween the two Greeks ; and then they immediately
set out likewise. He did not think anything
more of that look at the time : it was only after-
wards that he was led to attach importance to it.
He, however, observed that the two Greeks has-
tened after Leone — overtook him— and accom-
panied him to the ruins. They had not returned
' to the farm by the time I got back from the town,
after driving you over : but they made their ap-
pearance shortly afterwards; and then Leone said
that he was very much indebted to the young
Greek gentlemen for having borne him such
pleasant companionship during their ramble and
while inspecting the ruins. For the rest of that
day nothing peculiar took place. On the follow-
ing morning — that was yesterday morning, you
know, sir — the elder of the two Greeks intimated
to us that he and his companion were going to
take their leave, and that they purposed to repair
to Bastia. I was asked to render them the ser-
vice which I had the pleasure of affording you :
namely, to take them for the first stage in the
chaise -cart. 1 readily assented: they took their
leave of our family and Signor Leone ; and away
we went. We reached the town ; and I parted
from them."

Here the farmer's son paused for a few mo-

ments ; and then continued in the following
manner : —

" In the afternoon the postman who goes that
road on horseback, stopped at the farm to say that
a box which had arrived by the night- coach was
waiting at the town to bo fetched to the farm ; for
that it came from Ajaecio and was directed to my
father. I put the horse to the cart again, and
drove over to the town to fetch the box. This was
about four o'clock yesterday afternoon. I re-
ceived the box; and as I was driving away from
the coach-ofBce, whom should I see but the two
Greeks whom I had left in that town at ten in the
morning, and when they had assured me — or
rather the elder one did— that they were going
straight on to Bastia at once. However, th'-re
they still were; and I saw them. They observed
me also, and could not help stopping to speak : but
it struck me that there was something strange in
their manner as if they were vexed at being found
still tarrying there. I told them I had come across
for a box ; and the elder Greek made an excuse for
having remained in that town by saying that there
were no post-horses to be had. I thought it
strange — but did not say so, and again bade them
farewell. On the outskirt of the town I met the
post-master, whom I happened to know very well;
and I asked how it was he had no horses to supply
the travellers? He at once said that he had
plenty of horses in his stable, for that not a single
pair had gone out that day, and that nobody in-
deed had applied for any. i thought this stranger
still : for if the Greeks chose to remain a few hours
— or even as many years in that town, what was it
to me ? why should they look vexed or confused at
being seen there by me ? and where was the neces-
sity of descending to a falsehood in such a trivial
matter ? All these questions I asked myself as I
drove homeward. But during my absence some-
thing else had occurred that was still more sus-
picious."

" Ah ! what was that ?" I inquired.

"You know, sir," continued the farmer's son,
" that large pieces of the wreck had been washed
on shore ; and my father had ordered a cart to be
sent down for the fragments to be collected and
used as firewood. The carter had found no time
to obey this order until yesterday afternoon ; and
while he was collecting the wood, a small man-of-
war came as close in shore as it dared, A boat
put off, and an officer landed. The man-of-war
was a French sloop : it was the one, sir, that
chased the vessel you were in on the night it was
wrecked •"

'• Ah !" I exclaimed. "But "

" Enough, sir," said the farmer's ^on : " we know
that j/ou were not one of that gang."

" But how "

" Please to suffer me to proceed, sir. The officer
of the French sloop landed, and hastily inquired
what vessel it was that had be»n wrecked off the
coast? The carter could not tell; all he knew
was that two Greeks and an English gentleman
were the only survivors, and they had been staying
at the house. The officer asked some other ques-
tions ; and presently he perceived a piece of wood
sticking out of the ground, where it appeared to
have been buried, but the action of the waves had
laid it half bare again. The officer examined it,
and found that it was a piece of the stern, with

272

JOSEPH WItMOT; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN- SERVANT.

the name of ' The Otho ' paiated upon it. Hu
evidently considered this to be a most important
discovery, and hastened up to the farm-house.
There he informed my father that the ship which
had been wrecked was a famous Greek pirate
known as the Athene, and which for some tinje
past had been the terror of the Levant. My
father was naturally indiguant at the idea of hav-
ing bad three pirates at his liouse : but the officer
at once assured him that the young English gen-
tleman— meaning yourself, sir — was no pirate, that
you were a highly honourable person, and an inti-
mate friend of the Count of Livorno, nephew of
the Grand Duke of Tuscany. While the officer
was still at the house, I returned from the to'Tu in
the chaise-cart; and on hearing all that was said,
I gave information that the two Grreeks were still
in that neighbouring town. The officer speedily
resolved upon the plan that was to be adopted.
He enjoined us all to the strictest secresy — bor-
rowed a suit of plain clothes, as well as a horse —
and rode over to the town, to ascertain whether
the authofities would give up the Greeks to him
as prisoners, or whether he should bring his crew
from the boat and eoine and take them. In the
meantime the bos was opened j and it was found
to contain the handsome presents which you, 3\r,
were kind enough to send us "

" It was only a small tribute of my gratitude,"
I said, "for the kind hospitality I experienced be-
neath your roof. But pray proceed with your nar-
rative."

" Well, sir, the officer came back in a short
time. He had seen the Mayor of the town, who
considered that he had no authority to give up the
Greeks, as no act of piracy had been proved to
have been committed by them against any French
Tessel, nor was even alleged to have taken place :
but he had offered to render all possible succour in
enabling the officer to capture the Greeks if he
would take upon himself the responsibility of the
proceeding. The boat's crew were summoned ; and
we provided them all with weapons— for they had
brought none from the ship. I must now tell you
that before the officer's return from the town to
the farm. Signer Leone had intimated his intention
of rambling again to the ruins: for he said that
as the moon would rise early, he had a fancy to
view their effect by that light. We thought
nothing of it at tire time, beyond remarking to
ourselves after he was gone that we thought him a
.somewhat sentimental young gentleman : for all
our attention was absorbed in the affair cC the two
Greeks. Well, sir, Signer Leone set off; and a
few minutes afterwards the officer came back
Then it was that his crew were summoned and
armed ; and just as they were ready to issue forth,
a man on horseback galloped up to the house. He
was a police-spy from the town, and had been set
to watch the movements of the two Greeks. It
seems that they had hired a small vehicle— a sort
of chaise-cart like our own : they would not have
anybody to drive them— and they had left a de-
posit to cover the value of the horse and the
vehicle. The spy had managed to follow them at
such a distance that they were not aware of their
being so followed; and they had driven to the
ruins of the monastery. The spy had tracked
r.hem thither; and he came quickly on to the farm
to inform us. Then we thought of Signer Leone

and the worst misgivings seized upon us. Had
those Greeks before leaving the farm, made an ap-
pointment, under some specious pretext, to lure
him thither at a particular hour for an evil pur-
pose ? The officer and his men, the spy, myself,
and my father, hastened off towards the ruins ;
and we divided ourselves into two parties. The
party to which I belonged, entered the ruins from
the eastern side; and we had not advanced inany
paces, before the moonlight revealed to us the form
of a man stretched upon the ground. This wa«
(he unfortunate Leone. Life was extinct; and no
wonder, good heavens ! for it subsequently proved
that he had been stabbed in half-a-dozen places:
but the weapon with which the blows were inflicted
was not to be found. His person had not been
rifled; and as his corpse was still quite warm, wo
naturally concluded that the dreadful deed must
have been perpetrated within the last few minutes,
and that the assassins, alarmed by the sounds of
our advance, had fled precipitately. Tiie French
officer, with the men of his own party, had entered
the ruins by the western side, and had at once suc-
ceeded in capturing (ho two Greeks, whom they
found stealthily creeping along in the act of
escaping towards the spot wheru the chaise- cart
was subsequently discovered."

" And thus they were taken prisoners ?" I ob-
served in horrible musing. " But what said they ?
Did they protest their innocence "

" You shall hear. Signer," responded the farmer's
sou. " When the two parties met— when the
murder was made known — and when the crime
was at onco charged against the Greeks, their con-
duct was very diflerent. The younger one gave
vent to a terrific cry, and sank senseless upon the
ground. But the elder — Durazzo, the corsair-
chief, as we now know him to be — assumed a de-
meanour so haughtily and scornfully dignified, at
the same time mingled with what appeared to be
such an expression of horror, that never in the
whole world could conscious guilt have tutored it-
self to look so much like real innocence."

'•Ah I" I ejaculated. '"But go on! goon!"

•'•' Durazzo," proceeded the farmer's son, " pro-
tested with a tone and look of the haughtiest in-
dignation against the charge : but it was of course
useless— circumstances were damnatory. We bore
the prisoners off to the town; and they were ex-
amined before the mayor. The French officer ad-
vanced no clai'n to their persons : ho was content
to leave them in the hands of that law against
which they had so flagrantly offended;— and thus
the charge of piracy was not entered into."

'• How bore they themselves in the presence of
the magistrate ?" I asked.

Durazzo was still dignifled ; but his indignation
had given way to what I may term an intrepid
calmness. As for his youthful companion — he
seemed almost stupefied, and barely to be conscious
of what was passing around. He clung to Du-
razzo, who frequently whispered something in his
ear : but what it was, I know not. On those
occasions the youth would gaze up for an instant
with a brightening countenance, and then sink
into the apathy of consternation again. Durazzo
denied the charge : but when asked to explain
wherefore he and his companions were in the ruins
at the time, he remained silent. K'o explanation
of any sort would he give : he contented himself

JOSEPH WILMOT; OB, THE MBMOIBS OF A MAK- SERVANT.

273

with a mere denial, whicli of course went for
notbinfj. The examination was brief : the Mayor
ordered the prisoners to be committed for trial ;
and they were lodged for the remainder of the
night in a proper place of security. In conse-
quence of certain papers found upon Signor
Leone's person, a messenger was sent off to his
attorneys at Ajaccio, to convey the sad intelli-
gence of his death. The Mayor bound over mo
and my father, amongst the other witnesses, to
appear on the day of trial ; and we have come to
Ajaccio for the purpose of giving a complete state-
ment of the case to the Judge of Instruction, who
will have to draw up the indictment. Oh! Signor
Wilmot, it is shocking to think that we ever hnr-
boured such men beneath our roof! But that
they could be guilty of such a dreadful crime,
is indeed astonishing ! Their youth — their ap-
pearance — their manners — all were so little con-
eistent with an idea of such ferocity ! Durazzo is
87

barely five-and-twenty : the other is but sixteen or

seventeen And yet, as they have been pirates

and are inured to bloodshed, one ought not to be
astonished at any enormity which they might
commit. And do not you shudder, Signor Wilmot,
when you reflect how you have been in their com-
pany "

" I am appalled — I feel as if under the in-
fluence of some dreadful consternation ! It ap-
pears to me," I added, " as if I should presently
waken up and find it all to be a dream."

" Alas ! it is no dream," rejoined the farmer's
son : " for never, never can I forget the feelings
of horror which seized upon me when I beheld
that corpse stretched amidst the ruins. But I
must naw leave you, Signor Wilmot; for the
Judge of Instruction may require my presence."

The farmer's son then took his leave of me;

and I sate in my apartment deliberating no,

not deliberating, because deliberation means the

274

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OB, THE MEMOIES OF A MAN-SERVANT.

eifting of many ideas : I should say that I sate
in nay apartment with my thoughts riveted in
horrifieil dismay upon the one idea that Constan-
tine and his young page were murderers !

Two or three hours elapsed whi'e I thus kept
to my apartment, until aroused from my deep and
terrible reverie by the entrance of the waiter to
receive orders for dinner. My first impulse was
to dismiss the man peremptorily from my pre-
sence: but a second thought made me compre-
hend that if I betrayed too deep a feeling in re-
spect to what had occurred, I myself might get
talked about and be questioned by the function-
aries of justice as to the circumstances which had
led me on board the pirate-ship. I was by no
means anxious to reveal private afifairs, or have to
explain my motives in taking so deep an interest
in the safety of Sir Matthew Heseltine and his
family; and therefore it was my object to keep
myself as much on my guard as possible. I ac-
cordingly answered the waiter's questions ; and
soon afterwards I descended to the coffee-room.

There I met the Corsican gentleman to whom I
have before alluded ; and he gave me to under-
stand that he was led by curiosity to be present at
the examination of Durazzo and the young page
before the proper magistrate at Ajaccio. He said
that the demeanour of the elder Greek was firm,
but that his countenance was all the while of a
deadly paleness. As for the page, he appeared to
be so overwhelmed with distress that he looked as
if he were every instant ready to throw himself
upon his knees, confess everything, and implore
the mercy of the tribunal. I asked the Corsican
a few particulars: but I had nothing more to
learn beyond what the farmer's son had already
told me— unless it were the fact that blood had
been discovered on the garments of Durazzo.

" Apd did he attempt to account for it in any
way ?" I asked.

"Yes," replied the Corsican gentleman: "he
said that he had accidentally cut his hand yester-
day afternoon ; and though he certainly displayed
some slight scratch, it was too insignificant to ac-
count for the large spots of blood that were found
upon his garments. Besides, even without that
evidence at all, there is sufficient to stamp them
both with the crime charged against them."

"And when will the trial corviS on?" I inquired.

" In about three weeks," was the response, —
" unless Durazzo himself should seek to postpone
it by means of legal technicalities."

" Were ho and his companioa represented by
counsel ?" I asked.

" No : there was not time for them to consult
any legal adviser," rejoined the Corsican ; " and
moreover you must remember that it was a mere
preliminary examination which they underwent
immediately upon their arrival this afternoon. As
usual there were a number of harpies of the law
prowling about the court, ready to slip their cards
into the hands of the prisoners as they came forth
from the presence of the Judge of Instruction. If
the prisoners have money, they will find plenty of
legal advisers and defenders : but if they happen
to be penniless, the Court will appoint some re-
spectable advocate to undertake their defence. The
general impression however seems to be that the
younger of the two prisoners will plead guilty
when finally arraigned j and if so, all the lofty as-

sumption of the other will avail him nothing. The
excitement in the city is immense. If this Du-
razzo were now in custody on a charge of piracy
alone, I feel convinced that he would become an
object of immense sympathy, and even of admira-
tion ; for his appearance is marvellously prepos-
sessing. But accused as he is of a deed so dark
and horrible, he is looked upon as a demon wear-
ing the beautiful shape of an angel."

I sighed profoundly as 1 listened to these re-
marks; and I could not help thinking that never
again must I judge by personal appearances — for
that the most venomous snakes have often the
loveliest skins. But who, I said within myself,
can fathom the human heart — dive deep down into
its mysteries — and ascertain what fearful capacities
for evil may be latent there ? The more I saw of
human nature, the more I was astounded, and the
more deeply was I impressed with the necessity of
enlarging my experiences as much as possible. I
felt that for one of my youthful years to be pre-
sumptuous enough to judge of human nature, and
to define the instances where virtue and vice
should have their limits drawn, were as prepos-
terous as for the human intellect, when standing
on the shore of Time, to contemplate the great
ocean of Eternity, with the hope of discovering
an horizou in the far-off distance .

CHAPTEE CXXXV.

SIGNOB CA8TE1LI.

I WEST to bed tkat nigbt with very sad and sor-
rowful reflections. That Durazzo and the page
had perpetrated the murder — or at least that the
former had, the latter being with him at the time
— I could not entertain the slightest doubt. It
was however evident that many circumstances
which had really told against the prisoners, could
be otherwise explained. The impression now was
— and naturally so — that the murder was a pre-
meditated one, — that they had lingered in the
town, hired the cart, and sought the ruins for the
purpose of accomplishing it, — they having by some
means, previous to quitting the farm in the morn-
ing, induced Leone to meet them amongst those
ruins at a specified hour in the evening. But all
those circumstances in reality admitted of a very
different interpretation. To me it was clear
enough that the G-reeks had lingered in the town
and retraced their way to the ruins in order to
obtain possession of the treasure ; and therefore I
felt assured in my own mind that Leone's visit to
the ruins at the same time was an accidental coin*
cidence — and that falling in with the Greeks, he
met his death at the hands of Durazzo.

Such was my impression. But yet there were
some little difficulties to get over— some gaps to
be filled up. Why, I asked myself, should Pu-
razzo have assassinated Leoue ? The place where
the corpse was found, was at a distance from the
cemetery in the midst of which the treasure was
buried ; and it was very far from appearing that
Durazzo and the page were disturbed while pene-
trating into the subterranean. Indeed, it would
seem that they could only have just arrived
amongst the ruins at the time of the tragedy,

JOSEPH WILMOT; OR, THB MEMOIRS OV A MAN-SERVANT.

275

and that they had not so much as commenced the
important work which brought them thither. For
if the mouth of the cavern had been disturbed, re-
searches would have followed bj the parties in-
vading the ruins, and the treasure would have
been discovered : whereas not a whisper had been
circulated that any such discovery was made at all.
Then where the necessity for that fearful crime ?
Alas ! was it that Durazzo, greedy of the precious
ore, trembling with suspicion lest anybody should
wrest it fi-om him, and desperate in his tenacious
clinging to this last hope that remained to him, —
was it under such influences that he had stricken
down the unfortunate youth whose visit to those
ruins he might have dreaded .'' Yes, this seemed
to be the only solution of the mystery: but with-
out perplexing myself with such details, I could
only look upon the guilt of Durazzo and the Com-
plicity of his page as too certain.

While I lay awake reflecting upon all these
things, the thought occurred to me that if the in-
telligence of Durazzo's turpitude reached Leonora's
ears all in a moment — if when totally unprepared,
the unfortunate young lady sliould be doomed to
receive the double tidings that her aliianced hus-
band was a pirate and a murderer, she would
either be smitten dead upon the spot or else shriek
forth her agony in the wild ravings of a maniac.
What was to be done ? Would it not be perform-
ing a true Christian part for mo to hasten to
Civita Vecchia and gradually break the awful news
to Signer Portici in the first instance, so that he
might use his own discretion in communicating
them to his unhappy niece ? But then, on the
other hand, I had faithfully pledged myself to
Durazzo to abstain from giving any information
concerning him to the Judge and Leonora.
Nevertheless, had not circumstances altered .'' And
then too, perhaps Durazzo himself would now
gratefully accept the friendly service which I felt
disposed to render on the occasion. I almost
made up my mind to visit bim on the ensuing
day : but while I was yet bewildering myself with
reflections and reasonings on the point, slumber
stole upon me.

When I awoke in the morning, everything I
had learnt on the preceding day appeared to be
the faintly lingering recollections of a horribly
wild fantastic dream. But not many moments
elapsed ere its reality dawned upon my convic-
tions ; and hastily reviening the arguments I had
held with myself on the previous evening, I de-
cided upon visiting Durazzo, or at least communi-
cating with bim by letter, if the prison regulations
would permit. On this point I thought of eon-
suiting the Corsican gentleman ; and my toilet
being finished, I descended to the coifee-room.

I found this gentleman about to sit down to
breakfast j and I joined him in my own repast at
the same table. He directed my attention to a
paragraph in that morning's impression of the
Ajaccio newspaper; and I read that Signer Cas-
telli had been retained to conduct the defence of
Durazzo and the young page. It was therefore
tolerably clear that there was no design to make
a confession of their guilt — or at least not on the
part of Durazzo himself; and I felt pretty sure
that no matter how great the remorse or the
mental agony of the youthful page might be, he
would remain faithfully staunch tu his elder fellow-

country man in all things. This Signor Castelli, I
must observe, was the same individual who had
been interesting himself so actively and so exten-
sively in respect to the claimants of disputed estates,
especi:illy in the case of the ilonte d'Oro property.
I represented to my Corsican friend that being
acquainted with persons who were deeply inte-
rested in Durazzo, I thought it would be a friendly
act to anticipate the rude tongue of public report
and hasten to break to them the distressing intel-
ligence of what had occurred : but I added that I
did not feel disposed to behave too officiously in
the matter, and that I should therefore like to
obtain Durazzo's consent; for notwithstanding the
heinous crime laid to his charge, his feelings were
not to be placed beyond the pale of due considera-
tion—and moreover it was a good moral maxim
that every one should be considered innocent until
proved guilty. The Corsican recommended me to
apply to Signor Castelli— observing that he would
show me the way to his office after breakfast.

We set out together when the repast was
ended ; and as we were proceeding along the
street, I beheld a gentleman advancing whom I
thought I knew ; and the next instant I recol-
lected that it was Signor Turano who had so
politely shared his luncheon with myself and the
Greeks amongst the ruins of ilonte d'Oro castle.
He stopped and shook me by the hand — inquiring
how long I had been at Ajaccio? I ans^vered
the question, adding, " I presume you have heard
of the dreadful circumstances which have hap-
pened, and in which those two Greeks whom you
saw with me the other day are so deeply impli-
cated ?"

" You surely cannot mean that dreadful mur-
der," said Signor Turano, with an air of astonish-
ment, " of v/hich some vague report has just
reached my ears ?— for I only arrived at Ajaccio
late last evening."

"I do indeed allude to that shocking crime,"
was my response. " Accident had thrown me in
the way of those Greeks : but you will believe me
when I declare I considered it impossible they
could have been capable of such an enormity."

" I can most readily believe you," answered
Signor Turano, " because I myself am lost in asto-
nishment at the thought that those two young'
men— one indeed a mere boy— could have done
such a deed. But is it possible that they are the
Greeks of whom rumour is speaking?"

'■They are accused of this crime," I answered;
"and I am sorry to add that the circumstances of
the case scarcely admit a doubt as to their guilt."

" Good heavens ! can it be ?" exclaimed Turano.
"Little as I saw of yourself and those young men
on the recent occasion when we met, I was consi-
derably prepossessed in their favour. I thought
them both interesting and well-mannered : there
appeared to be about the elder a certain chivalrous
heroism of character totally forbidding the idea
that beneath so promising an exterior was hidden
the capacity for an assassin's deed ! Good heavens^
I can scarcely believe it even now !"

Signor Turano appeared much distressed as well
as amazed at the intelligence which I had imparted
to him ; and he spoke in so feeling a manner that
my previously conceived good opinion of him was
considerably enhanced. He told me where he was
slaying— namely, at an adjacent hotel — and invited

276

JOSEPH Wn-MOT; OB, TITE MEMOIES OP A MAK-SBEVANT.

me to visit bim there. I promised that I would if
I remained at Ajaccio ; and we parted. The Cor-
sican gentleman now conducted me to the office of
bignor Castelli, — where he left me, he having busi-
ness to transact in another part of the town.

I entered an outer office, where about a dozen
clerks were engaged in various occupations con-
nected with their master's business; and after
waiting an hour, I was ushered to an inner
room, where I found myself in the presence of
Signor Castelli. He was an old man, with a re-
markablj shrewd expression of countenance — a
keen piercing eye — and a certain quickness of
manner which showed that as a thorough man of
business be valued bis time and expended it not
unnecessarily. The instant I gave him my card,
he said, " Ah ! I have beard of you, Mr. Wilmot ;
and I am at no loss to conjecture what melancholy
affair has brought you hither."

I explained my business in terms as concise as
possible ; and Signor Castelli said, " Had you not
come to me now of your own accord, I should have
sought after you in the course of the forenoon.
Durazzo has spoken to me of you. He had reason
to believe that you might be at Ajaccio: he thought
that perhaps you would render him the very ser-
vice which you have so generously proposed to
undertake."

" Most willingly will I do so," I said. " Does
he wish to see me before I depart ?"

" He wishes it — but it will not be advisable,"
responded Signor Castelli. "It would cause a
dela^ of two or three days ; and this delay might
frustrate the very object which both he and your-
self have in view: — the intelligence might reach
Civita Yecchia before you could get there. For
in order to see Durazzo, it would be necessary
for you to have an order from the Judge of In-
struction; and he has gone to Bastia on some
matter of business. Durazzo has told me every-
thing in respect to yourself — how he made you a
prisoner on board his ship — how generously you
have behaved towards him; and he thought that
he could reckon upon your good feeling to break
this intelligence in a quarter where it cannot pos-
sibly be long concealed, but where it is desirable
that the blow should not fall with too fearful an
abruptness."

" Is there any hope," I asked, '' of weakening
the evidence which weighs so terribly against
Durazzo and his accomplice ?"

'•'Ah! then you believe them guilty?" said
Signor Castelli.

"How can I possibly believe otherwise?" I
asked. " But you yourself "

Castelli shrugged his shoulders, — and said, " It
is an ugly case — a very ugly case ! Durazzo and
the page persist in declaring their innocence; but
to confess the truth, Mr. AYilmot, no mortal jury
could be persuaded thereof. Nothing but a miracle
can save them !"

"And such a miracle will not be wrought," I
mournfully observed : '•' for perhaps never was
circumstantial evidence so strong. I presume
Durazzo has afforded you some grounds on which
to establish a defence ?"

" Yes — but they are weak enough," answered
Castelli. "He says that in consequence of a
legend which he heard related by the farmer — in
fact, the well-known legend of the monastery — he

was resolved to search amongst the ruins in the
hope of finding the treasure ; and that for this
purpose did he and the page return thither in so
stealthy a manner after having given the farmer's
family to understand that they were going straight
on to Bastia. He further says that as he and the
page were groping their way amidst the ruins,
they heard the sounds of footsteps ; and thinking
that other persons might have come thither for a
similar purpose, ho and his youthful companion
were anxious to avoid them ; and hence their
stealthy retreat towards the place where they had
left the hired vehicle. But all of a sudden they
found themselves surrounded and arrested by a
party of men under the command of a French
Lieutenant, who accused them of piracy. A few
instants afterwards another party came up to the
spot; and then was proclaimed the still darker
accusation of murder !"

I listened with the greatest attention to Signor
Castelli's rapidly sketched statement, — from which
I gleaned that Durazzo had suppressed the circum-
stance of the treasure having been already dis-
covered. Good heavens ! did he cling to the hope
that his life would be saved— that he would recover
his freedom — and that the day would therefore
come when he should be enabled to revisit the
ruins of St. Bartholomew and thence bear away the
hidden treasure ? Did he, in a word, expect that
heaven would vouchsafe that miracle which, as
Signor Castelli had so well expressed it, could
alone save him ? I must confess that I was
astonished at Durazzo's infatuation, — until it sud-
denly occurred to me that he cherished the idea of
an escape, and that he might probably, with his
natural sagacity, already perceive the means of
accomplishing it.

" And so you believe that they are guilty ?" ob-
served Signor Castelli. " But of course you do !
It were preposterous to suppose otherwise ! Xover-
theless Durazzo said to me more than once when I
saw him last evening, 'My friend Wilmot will not
for a moment believe me guilty : I am sure that he
will not, despite all the evidence which seems so
damnatory against me !' — TLius he spoke."

" Would to heaven that I dared think him inno-
cent !" I exclaimed. " I would give much and
would make large sacrifices," I added vehemently,
'•' to be enabled to regard him as the victim of one
of those marvellous combinations of circumstances
which the criminal annals of all nations have cer-
tainly displayed."

" You speak generously, Mr. Wilmot," answered
Castelli : " but I repeat what I ere now said — it is
impossible for you to believe him innocent ! I am
morally convinced of his guilt: but I shall leave
no stone unturned to get up the strongest possible
case for his defence. I have already retained the
most eminent counsel in the island "

" And if by any accident," I interjected, — " if,
something little short of a miracle should transpire
to procure an acquittal — or if the case should break f
down through any flaw in the indictment— what
becomes of the charge of piracy ?"

" There is none preferred against these Greeks,"
replied Signor Castelli ; " and even if there were,
it could not be taken cognizance of in our Courts,
inasmuch as it does not appear that piracy has
been practised towards a French or Corsican vessel.
But you will excuse me for cutting this interview

JOSEPH WItMOT; OU, THE MBM0IE3 OV A MAN- SERVANT.

277

aomewhat short. As jou may perceive, I am up to
my very neck in business "

" I have been informed," I observed, " that you
are deeply engaged in sifting the claims and rights
of persons to particular estates — and that the world
is shortly promised a most interesting case in re-
spect to the Monte d'Oro domain."

" Indeed it will be interesting," remarked Signor
Castelli, with a dryness which methought was in-
tended as a rebuke for any little curiosity which
he fancied I might have displayed by the obser-
vation I had just addressed to him. I therefore
began to apologize : but he cut me short by saying,
" You have mistaken my meaning, Mr. W'ilmot: I
meant no rudeness — as I am convinced you are ca-
pable of none. I simply intended to convey the idea
that the Monte d'Oro case will prove even more
interesting than the world generally expects. Why,
sir, two hours have not elapsed since a claimant
started up. He came to me — I had never in my
life heard of him before; but he has put me in
possession of facts which render me inclined to be-
lieve that he has an excellent chance."

" Indeed ?" I exclaimed : " then the affair is
growing complicated ?"

" I have just five minutes more to devote to you,"
said Signor Castelli, looking at his watch. " I
knew that there were two lines of descendants
from the last Count of Monte d'Oro ; and I
have incurred great expense in following up that
clue. From the researches made I was led to be-
lieve that one line was extinct : but now it sud-
denly seems to be as much in existence as the other.
But to revert to Durazzo's case. I must beseech
you to lose no time in departing for Civita Vecchia :
there is a steamer from Ajaccio to that part this
very afternoon : and in tweuty-four hours you may
be at your destination. I need not tell you, Mr.
Wilmot, how you will break the intelligence : a
young gentleman who would conceive so magnani-
mous an idea, will not be at a loss how to carry it
out. There is however one thiug which I must
not forget. Durazzo begged that in case he could
not see you beforehand, you would convey to his
Leonora and her uncle the solemn protestations of
his innocence in respect to the foul crime charged
against himself and his youthful companion."

"It is a mournful task," I observed: " but I
will execute it to the best of my endeavour."

I then took leave of Signor Castelli; and pro-
ceeding to the port, secured a berth in the splendid
steam-vessel which was bound for Civita Vecchia.
Then returning to the hotel, I packed up my trunk
—bade farewell to the Corsican gentleman — and at
two o'clock in the afternoon embarked on board
the steamer. At precisely the same hour I landed
on the following day at Civita Vecchia.

CHAPTER CXXXVr.

CIVITA VECCHIA AGAIW.

EsTEEiNG a public vehicle which plied at the har-
bour of the Boman seaport, I deposited my luggage
at the same hotel where I had sojourned on the
previous occasion of my visit to that town ; and I
conversed with one of the waiters for a few minutes
in order to ascertain whether the tidings of the

tragic occurrence in Corsica had already reached
Civita Vecchia. I was satisfied that they had not;
and I was well pleased with this discovery. Re-
turning to the hackney-coach, I ordered the driver
to take me to Signor Portici's villa.

During the ride thither, I could not help re-
flecting on the many varied and startling inci-
dents which had occurred since I was last in this
town. How much had I gone through — what
anxieties of mind had I experienced — what adven-
tures had I seen ! A sojourn on board a pirate
vessel — a terrific naval combat — a shipwreck — the
discovery of a treasure — and the accusation of
my two Greek companions of the horrible crime
of murder, — these were incidents that might have
served as sufficient experiences for a whole life-
time; vehereas with me they had all been hurriedly
grouped together in a few short days. And now
on what a mission was 1 bent ! — how terrible was
the task which I had undertaken! Oh, to plant
a dagger in tho bosom of the beauteous Leonora
it was dreadful !

My heart experienced a sickening sensation —
it seemed to shrink, contract, and wither in my
breast, as the vehicle drove up to the front of the
Portici Villa. I descended — I reached the front
door : the Judge had seen me from his parlour-
window — he came rushing forth to meet me. Most
cordial was the welcome which I received from
him : but I was struck by his careworn looks, and
by the expression of anguish that blended with
the animation of his countenance as he fervidly
pressed my hand. Then tears rolled down his
cheeks : I saw that something was known — and
anxious to learn how much, but almost too full of
painful suspense to be able to put the question at
full length, I simply said, "Your niece?"

The venerable Judge shook his head with a
despairing look, and hurried me into the parlour,
the door of which he at once closed. Leonora was
not there. Signor Portici bent his eyes upon me ;
and seeing how much I myself was distressed, he
said, " Have you aught more to tell me than I
already know relative to that unhappy young
man ?"

" How much do you know ?" I tremblingly and
shudderingly asked.

"Oh I too much — too much for my own happi-
ness and that of my unfortunate niece !" replied
the Judge, in a tone of anguish : — "I know
that Kauaris and Durazzo are one and the same
person ! Oh, when the tidings reached me from
Leghorn, I felt as if I could lay violent hands upon

myself and this is a dreadful thing to bo

avowed by an old man having one foot in the
grave ! But, Oh ! the terrible ordeal through
which I had to pass, and which nevertheless could ^
not be avoided!— I mean the revelation of the
awful truth to my niece. Poor Leonora ! it was a

frightful blow for her But you are weeping

bitterly ? What is it, my dear Wilmot ? In the ,
name of heaven, if you have tidings still more
terrible to impart, tell me the whole truth at
once — keep me not in suspense !"

I was indeed weeping bitterly : for the spectacle
of that old man's anguish was more than I could
endure. He saw that I had indeed something
more to tell ; and all of a sudden assuming a calm
demeanour, he said, " Now, my dear Wilmot, I am
prepared — I have fortified myself with a true

278

JOSEPH WItMOT; OE, THE MBMOIES OP A MAN-SEEVANT.

Cbristiiin resignation. What is it ? Has that un-
happy young man experienced a violent death ? —
or is lie in the hands of justice? Tell me, I be-
seech you : for it is only what myself and the
wretched Leonora must sooner or later be prepared
to hear."

I know not Low I managed to break the dis-
tracting truth : my own anguish was so great — my
own feelings were so highly wrought— my thoughts
were in such confusion, that I could afterwards ac-
quire no distinct remembrance of the words that I
used in conveying the hideous, horrible tidings.
But I do recollect full well that at the same in-
stant the unhappy old man threw himself back in
his chair with a moan of deepest anguish, another
moan from the opposite side of the door reached
my ears; and then there was a sound of some-
thing falling heavily. A startling suspicion flashed
to my mind : I rushed to the door— tore it open —
and behold Leonora stretched upon the mat. The
wretched young lady — aware of my arrival, and
smitten with the hideous presentiment that I had
some fearful intelligence to impart in respect to
her betrothed husband — had been unable to re-
strain her torturing suspense ; and she had listened
at that door. Yes — she had listened ; and she had
heard that Constantine — t*ae object of her still all-
devoted love — was in a felon's gaol, branded with
the accusation of a cold-blooded murder !

Lifting her in my arms, I bore her into the
parlour— placed her upon the sofa— and sprinkled
water over her countenance. Her uncle knelt by
her side, moaning and sobbing piteously. I was
anxious to avoid, if possible, the necessity of sum-
moning the servants : but it became requisite to do
so. Leonora's swoon was trance-like : she con-
tinued pale and motionless as a marble statue. I
was afraid that life would ebb away unless other
ministrations were afforded ; and therefore I at
length rang for her female dependants. She was
borne up to her own chamber : medical aid was
called in ; and when animation returned, the un-
happy young lady came back to life only to rave
in the delirium of fever.

I remained until evening at the villa, doing my
best to persuade the unhappy uncle to bear up
against bis misfortunes; and I succeeded in sooth-
ing his wounded spirit into a state of Cliristian
resignation. I gave him the particulars of every-
thing that had occurred since I parted from him
when setting out on my intended journey to Leg-
horn— that journey which was so summarily cut
short by my capture and conveyance on board the
pirate-vessel. Signor Portici begged me not to
leave Civita Vecchia immediately — but to visit
him again on the following day ; and I promised
that I would.

Having dismissed the vehicle on my arrival, I
returned on foot towards the hotel, meditating in
mourufulness upon all that had taken place, I felt
exceedingly dull and low-spirited : for the anguish
of the venerable Judge and the effect produced
npon his mind had pained me profoundly. On
reaching the hotel, at about eight o'clock in the
evening, I entered the coffee-room to read the
newspapers, or in the hope of finding some one
with whom to converse: but scarcely had I crossed
the threshold, when I heard a well-known voice
saying, " It's just that;" — and this was instanta-
neously followed by a boisterous shout of laughter.

The next instant I stood in the presence of mv
friends Mr. Clackmannan and Mr. Saltcoats.

" My dear Wilmot," . vociferated the latter,
rushing towards me and grasping my hand with
the most cordial warmth, " what have you been
doing with yourself? and why didn't you come
back to Home ? As you did not return to us, we
came to look after you."

" It's just that," said the Dominie, shaking my
other hand; ana in his joy at seeing mc, he
worked my arm up and down as if it were a
pump-handle. "When Mahomet would not go to
the mountain, the mountain went to Maiiuiiiet

Ko, that's not it — it was the mountain that

would not go to Mahomet And that reminds

me of what I one day said to the Widow Glen-
bucket when I rang the bell and she did not
answer it: so I went down myself into the
kitchen — and there I found her lying under the
table fast asleep — and I recollect there was a bottle

on the table but it could'nt have been that,

because it was empty. However "

"And do you really mean to say," I asked ray
two friends, " that you came to Civita Vecchia on
purpose to look for me ?"

" Indeed we did !" exclaimed Mr. Saltcoats.
" And why not ? You did not come back — you

did not write to us "

" It's just that," said the Dominie, rolling him-
self back into his chair and taking a huge pinch
of snuff". •• And t'nat puts me in mind of young
Shankspindles, who used to write to me every
week once upon a time — till I lent him twenty
pounds — and after that he never answered my
letters. That was thirty years ago. I couldn't
understand it at the time — I can't understand it
now. I've been thinking of it ever since."

And here, as if to refresh his memory, the Do-
minie filled himself* a bumper which he began de-
liberately to drink,

" Come, sit down," cried Saltcoats, " and we'll
be so jolly ! I'm so glad we've fallen in with you
again : I could do anjthiug to give vent to my
spirits— drink an extra bottle of wine — brew a
bowl of punch — or stand on my head, if you
like."

" It's just that," said the Dominie. "When I

was a boy I often used to stand on my head

I don't know whether I found it; more convenient:
but it must have been something of tliat sort.
And this reminds me, Saltcoats, that you and tlie
Widow Glenbucket were one day measuring which
was the tallest : but you didn't stand back to
back as people generally do — you were nose to
nose, if I recollect right— because I came in sud-
denly at the time — and I remember too there was
a loud smacking noise, just for all the world as if

you had given the widow a kiss But of course

you hadn't."

" Come, come, Dominie, hold your tongue," in-
terrupted Mr. Saltcoats, with a jolly laugh and a
mischievous twinkling of his merry blue eye,
"Pass the bottle. Dominie— and let our friend
Wilmot here have a chance of getting a glass of
wine. When did you come, my boy ? and where
do you spring from ?'

" It's just that," said the Dominie: "I remem-
ber once asking the same question of a fellow with
a great stick who seemed to spring out of a hedge :
but I don't know whether he answered it — for I

JOSEPH ■WILMOT; OE, THE MEM0IH3 OF A MAN-SEBVANT.

279

recollect that lie knocked mc down — I was stunned ) nice old lady. And this puts me in mind of a

— and when I came to myself I found that the 1 certain old tahby cat "

fellow was gone, and my purse along with him. But Mr. Saltcoats at once cut bis friend short
So I supposed ho had taken it — but I never knew for fear of the infliction of another anecdote ; and
the ri.;hts of the matter. And that reminds me i very soon afterwarus the Dominie fell fast asleep
of what I one day said to my friend the Laird of | in his chair. I remained talking with Saltcoats

Tintosquashdale He wasn't the Squashdale who ' until a little past ten o'clock, — when I retired to

■was hanged for child-murder," added the Dominie, I rest, having with difficulty escaped from his press-
giving this little piece of information for my j ing invitation to join him in a bowl of punch.

special behoof: "that fellow was Squashdale with-
out the Tinto — which was just the same as if he
had a coat without any tails to it."

Do hold your tongue, Dominie," exclaimed

On the following morning, after breakfast, I
managed to get away from my two fi-iends and
proceeded to the Portici Villa. I found that
Leonora was still in a very dangerous state : and

his jolly friend, " and let us hear what Wilmot has the medical attendants predicted a long illness.
got to say for himself. Ah! by the bye, what has I The worthy Judge was deeply afflicted : but there
become of that nice young Greek whom you j was this consolation— that his unfortunate nieco
travelled with P" j was, for the time being, ignorant of the dreadful

I did not think it worth while to enter into a long I woes which had fallen upon her head. She was at
narrative of all that had occurred to me in conse- | intervals plunged into a deep stupor — at others she

qucnce of my acquaintance with DurazzoKanaris;
and so I simply said that he had got himself into
some trouble in Corsica.

" It's just that," said the Dominie: " I thought
when we first met him he would get into trouble —
because he wore such a tight-fitting frock-coat;
and that young scapegrace Piercie Ganderbig^jin,
nephew of the Widow Glenbucket, wore just

such a coat which reminds me of what I said

on one occasion to Sandio Owlhead, the Baillie's

seventh son, when the chimney fell down "

'•' And when did you arrive here ?" I asked of
Mr. Saltcoats.

" Last evening," was the reply. " We inquired
if you weie known here : they said yes — that you
had stayed three or four days, and had then gone
away. We little thought we were destined to
meet you this evening- — —But if you don't like
that wine, have some rum-and-water. They've
got capital rum at this place : the Dominie drank
three tumblers last night :" — and Mr. Saltcoats
winked slyly at me.

"It's just that," said Mr. Clackmannan: "the
rum must be very good : for when 1 awoke this
morning I did not recollect having taken any at
all.' And it's very strange — but I can't think how
I got to bed last night. I just remember that the

stairs seemed dreadfully rickety but that's the

way with a cat when it has got walnut-shells on
its feet."

" AVhy, Dominie," exclaimed Mr. Saltcoats,
laughing uproariously, " you know you were drunk
last night — drunk as a fiddler !"

" It's just that," said Mr. Clackmannan, rolling
himself round in his chair and taking three or four
huge pinches of snuft' successively : but he did not
appear to comprehend the extent of the accusa-
tion to which he had just given his assent. "I

remember once, when I was dining with No,

it could not have been dining "

Wliat news have you in Home ?" I inquired.

was raving in the delirium of fever ; and, as Signor
Portici informed me, the name of Constantino was
incessantly upon her lips in the midst of those
ravings. He tisked me whether anything could
possibly be done for Constantine's benefit: fur not-
withstanding everything that had happened, the
old man could not forget that he was the affianced
husband of his niece. I assured him that Durazzo
was not without funds to conduct his defence— for
that if he had been I myself should have supplied
them. I intimated my intention of returninf
to Ajaccio by the time the trial came on ; and
the Judge expressed his satisfaction at this as-
surance.

" I know," he said, " that nothing will convince
Leonora of his guilt. I can read her disposition
as plainly as the print in a book; and though slio
could not resist the overwhelming evidence which
proved him to be a pirate, — yet certain am I she
will never give her belief to the idea that he could
become — I shudder to pronounce the word— a mur-
derer ! Therefore whatever may happen in respect
to him — and should she survive this illness of her's
— she will bless you, my dear Wilmot, for any
kindness you may now show towards Durazzo."

In consequence of these representations I deter-
mined to hurry my departure to Ajaccio— and in-
formed the Judge that I should leave Civita
Tecchia by the next steamer that started. I ascer-
tained that this would not be for three days ; and
I therefore remained at that seaport for this inter-
val. I divided my time between Signor Puitici
and my two Scotch friends, — the society of the
latter being really a relii f to me, dispirited as I
now felt. I wrote to the Count of Livoriio, thank-
ing him for his kindness in attending to my letter
penned onboard the pirate-vessel; and I requested
information relative to Sir Matthew Heseltine and
his family, as well as in respect to Lanover and
Dorchester. I begged his lordship to address Ida
answer to me at Ajaccio,— fearing lest I might

"Nothing particular," answered Saltcoats. " The leave Civita Vecchia before a reply could reach me

Count of Tivoli sent his carriage to fetch us to
dine with him the evening before last. There was
a large party — and the Dominie sate next to an
old Dowager Marchioness with the paint all daubed
over her parchment skin. And what do you think
he did ? Instead of asking her to take wine, he
presented his box and proposed that she should
take a pinch of snuff with him."

"It's just that," said the Dominie : "'she was a

there.

On the third day Leonora was out of danger,
though still very ill, and still deprived of the right
use of her senses. I took an affectionate leave of
the old Judge, and bade farewell to my Scotch
friends, — for whom I was obliged to invent some
pretext to prevent them from accompanying me ;
as it was evidently a matter of perfect iuuifferenco
to them whither they travelled and whero they

280

JOSEPH WILMOT; OB, THE MEMOntS OF A MAN-SBETANT.

took up their quarters, so long as they found ample
supplies of eatables and drinkables.

I arrived once more at Ajaccio ; and forthwith
proceeded to Signer Castelli's office. I saw this
gentleman, and reported to him the severe illness
of Leonora. He informed me that Durazzo was
most impatient for my return or for the reception
of some tidings from me ; and remembering my
promise to the Judge to do whatsoever I could for
him, I resolved to see him. Castelli promised me
an order to that effect for the following day. It
was agreed between us that the full extent of
Leonora's illness should if possible be concealed
from Durazzo, as there was no necessity to add to
the mental tortures which he must already en-
dure.

On repairing to my hotel I found a letter from
the Count of Livorno, — the contents of which gave
me all the information which I had sought. It
appeared that after reading my note which the
young page had slipped into his hand onboard the
Athene, he had been smitten with some vague and
distant suspicion that I was not altogether a free
agent in that vessel, and that there was conse-
quently something strange and peculiar relative
to the vessel itself. But as I had so earnestly en-
joined secresy in respect to the Otho, as the
Athene was called for the nonce, — he had deter-
mined to follow my injunctions in all respects.
Encountering the cutter in which Sir Matthew
Heseltine, the ladies, and Dorchester were proceed-
ing towards the schooner, — he had hailed it ;
and instantaneously recognising Dorchester, even
through the deep disguise that he wore, the Count
requested a few minutes' private conversation with
Sir Matthew Heseltine, to whom he was previously
unknown. A word of warning was sufficient :
but my name was not mentioned : the warning
was directed simply againgt Dorchester himself.
The cutter put back to Leghorn in company with
the yacht, — Dorchester sitting uneasily the while ;
for Sir Matthew contemplated him with a grim
sternness. The instant the cutter reached the
landing-place in the harbour, the Count of Livorno
gave Dorchester into custody on a charge of having
been connected with Marco Uberti's band. Sir
Matthew Heseltine and the ladies naturally sus-
pected that L:inover was at the bottom of all this
meditated treachery towards themselves ; and their
suspicion was speedily confirmed by Dorchester's
own confession. Having expressed their warmest
thanks to the Count of Livorno for the informa-
tion he had given them, they at once took their
departure from Leghorn in order to return to
England, — Sir Matthew assuring his lordship that
bis experiences of a Continental tour were already
quite sufficient.

Yes — it appeared that the instant Dorchester
was arrested for a capital crime, his fortitude for-
sook him, and he avowed the whole plot— or at
least so far as Lanover had chosen to confide its
details to him. It will be remembered that Lan-
over had assured Durazzo he had not mentioned
to Dorchester that the schooner was a pirate-ship ;
and in this Lanover had spoken truly. But Dor-
chester produced Lanover's letter written in
cipher, and explained its contents. These were
to the effect that he was to lose no time in in-
veigling Sir Matthew and the ladies on board the
vessel. The police-authorities to whom Dorches-

ter's confession was made, were now convinced
that the Otho could not be what it seemed ; and
when once suspicion was excited a positive con-
elusion was speedily arrived at. It was determined
to watch the schooner's movements well: infor-
mation was sent off to the English and French
men-of-war — but accompanied by private letters
from the Count of Livorno, making special and
most honourable mention of myself. Lanover
landed, as the reader will recollect; and he was
arrested on the double charge of having formerly
held communication with Marco Uberti's band,
and for having now sought to inveigle into some
jeopardy an English family residing at the time
under the protection of the Tuscan laws. The
reader is aware how the attempt to seize upon the
pirate crew of the boat failed on the part of the
Leghorn authorities — and likewise how the Athene
escaped from the pursuit of the vessels-of-war.
As for Dorchester and Lanover, they had been re-
moved to Florence to undergo their trial there ;
and as it would take place in the course of six
weeks, the Count of Livorno's letter requested mo
to attend on the occasion, as my evidence would
be requisite. He concluded by expressing the
kindest wishes, both on his own part and on that
of the Countess, for my welfare and prosperity^
desiring me when I visited Florence to make their
house my home — otherwise they should think that
I valued not their friendship.

And thus Mr. Lanover was caught at last !—
thus was it that he was lying in a felon's gaol,
with a capital charge hanging over his head ! His
evil career was evidently now drawing to a rapid
close, — as was also that of tlie villain Dorchester.
I did indeed purpose to repair to Florence when
the time should come for those offenders to be
placed at the bar of justice: for I had a presenti-
ment that when under that death-sentence which
must inevitably be pronounced, Lanover might be
led to make some important revelations in respect
to those mysteries which seemed so especially to
concern myself, and which were likewise connected
with the persecutions I had endured at the insti-
gation of the Earl of Eccleston.

CHAPTER CXXXVII.

THE PEISOIf.— THE SFBCIAX COMMISSION.

On the following day, at about noon, I received
an envelope from Signor Castelli, enclosing an
order for my admittance to the town gaol.
Thitherward I proceeded ; and it was with a
heavy heart that I looked forward to the inter-
view with the once bold and dashing corsair-chief.
It was painful to think that I should soon stand
in the presence of one whom so recently I had
deemed to be the possessor of many admirable
qualities notwithstanding the lawless life he had
led, and whom I must now look upon as a cold-
blooded murderer. It was painful likewise to re-
flect that I must talk to him of his Leonora, whom
perhaps he would never, never see again !

While thus giving way to my sorrowful medita-
tions, I reached the entrance to the gloomy-looking
gaol; and on presenting the order, I was conducted
through a wicket in a large iron grating; and the

JOSEPH WILMOT; OR, THS MEMOIES OF A MAN-3EEVANT.

281

turnltcy who escorted me, opeuing a massive door
at the end of a stone passage, said, " You will find
the prisoners there."

It was a small court-yard which I now entered ;
and its only occupants were Constantino and the
young page. They were standing in the middle
of the place ; and they did not immediately per-
ceive me. Durazzo was addressing his youthful
companion, evidently in an earnest manner : the
page clasped his hands and looked up into Durazzo's
countenance with the air of one who placed all his
hope in what the other was saying. Then I beheld
Durazzo pass his hand caressingly over the curling
masses of the joutli's hair ; and I knew that what-
soever crimes might be laid to the charge of Con-
stantine, there was no fal ing off of affectionate
friendship in his feelings towards the sharer of his
misfortunes. All of a sudden aa ejaculation of
88

joy burst from the page's lips, as he caught sight
of me; and then D urazzo, glancing quickly round,
noticed my presence.

C'onstantiue hastened towards me : but the
young page, after advancing a pace or two,
stopped short, covered his face with his hands,
and began to sob violently. The momentary joy
which my appearance had occasioned, thus
vanished as abruptly as it had sprung up ; and if
a doubt had remained in my mind as to the guilt
of those two, this conduct on the youth's part
would have dissipated it. It seemed to bespeak a
remorseful shame which dared not look me in the
face.

" This is kihd of you — most kind !" said Du-
razzo, hastening towards me : and he was about to
seize my hand, when suddenly recollecting some-
thing, he stepped back — and folding his arms

282

JOSEPH WILMOT 5 OB, THE BTBMOniS OIT A MAN-SEBVANT.

across bi3 chest, said wuli a sort, of mouroi'ul cold- i
ness, " Bat I had forgotteu ! Signor Castelli told
me that you believed me guilty !" j

" I do not ask you to make me your confessor," I
I replied far more sadly than he himself had ,
spoken, and with none of the same haughty cold-
ness in my own voice or manner: "but at least,
Durazzo, I expect that you will not adopt an air
of useless and illbecomiag bravado."

It would be impossible to describe the brilliancy
of the lightning which flashed from his eyes, nor
the look of scornful rage that for an instant swept
over his countenance : but the next moment his
mien so completely altered that I was at a loss to
conceive his features bad expressed that lofty
haughty anger at all. His air became so sad —
Oh ! so sad ; and he bent his eyes with such de-
precating mournfulness upon me that I felt my
heart was weeping inwardly.

"And my Leonora?" he said. "You have seen
her — and Castelli, who visited me last evening,
prepared me to hear tidings of her illness. Biit
he assured me that it was not severe — and you arp
come to confirm me in that belief ?"

"The medical attendant upon the judge's niece
has no fears as to the result," was my cautiously
worded response,

"Heaven be thanked!" exclaimed Constantine

fervidly. " But tell me— and, oh ! tell me truly

does she— does she believe that I am guilty ?"

"The judge assured me," I answered, <Hhat
although it were impossible for his niec«< to re-
sist the evidence that you had been a corsair-
chieftain, — yet that never, never would she be-
lieve you guilty of this crime which is imputed to
you !"

A wild cry of joy thrilled from Durazzo's lipa :
his strikingly handsome countenance became ani-
mated with a kindred expression ; and clasping his
hands together, he said with a world of feeling in
his looks and voice, " Oh ! may heaven shed its
choicest blessings upon the head of my worshipped
Leonora!"

I was profoundly affected : I hastily passed my
kerchief across my eyes ; and now I perceived that
the young page had glided towards us. He listened
with a deep and evidently heartfelt intepest-^but
without amazement at what was said ; and I
therefore comprehended that he was now entirely
in Durazzo's confidence in respect to all that con-
cerned his love for the judge's niece.

"And Signer Portici himself?" said Constantine
inquiringly, " But no — I need not ask you ! Se
considers me guilty ? Ah ! but never, never will
he infect the trustful Leonora with the same belief !
I may go out of this world branded with a crime
which I never perpetrated: but still there slia'"! be
one heart that will thrub with the holy conviction
of mine innocence. Yes! — the rank grass may
grow over my grave in some unhallowed spot : but
yet may a single flower peep forth from the midst
and shed its perfume around, like sacred frankin-
cense over the tomb of the mouldering dead !"

For a few moments Durazzo fell into a deep
reverie ; and as I glanced towards the page, I per-
ceived him studying my countenance with a timid
anxiety. For an instant his looks fell : then he
glided towards me ; and laving his hand lightly
upon my arm, he said in the soft sadness of his
musical voice, " Oh I it is worse than anything

that i/oii, Mr. "Wilmot, with your generous heart'
should believe us guilty !"

I was staggered by this species of appeal, which
was conveyed with a look and tone of perfect in-
nocence; and turning qaickly to Durazzo, I said
to him, "'Would to heaven that I could believe
you innocent ! But would it not be believing in
that which unfortunately is impossible ?"

"Wilmot," answered Constantine, "I feel — I
know that naught but a miracle can prove my in-
nocence, and that of this youth whom I love as if
he were my brother. I know likewise that in all
ages and in all countries of the world men have
succumbed beneath the overwhelming weight of
circumstantial evidence : in some instances their
innjcenc? may never have transpired — but in

others it has been made apparent -and so it

may in mine !"

While he was thus speaking, I was smitten with
the recollection of how an innocent person was
first of all accused of the murder of the Duchessa
do Paulin, and ho* the evidence had taken a turn
to bring the crime fearfully home to the Duke
himself. But, alas! a second thought showed me
that the circumstances were here very different ;
and the hope that Durazzo might be speaking the
truth died quickly out of me.

"I see that nothing can shake the conviction
which is in your mind," proceeded Constantine
mournfully ; " aiid everything considered, I ought
not to blame you. Y'et hear me, Wilmot ! If I
cannot convert you, you may at least listen to the
few words I have to say upon the subject. I have
teen a cor.»air-chief; and you yourself know
whether I have hesitated to fight in a bold and
open cause. But on the other hand I am as ia-
; capable as yourself ot becoming a culd-blooded
assassin. What was that poor youth's life to me ?
We saw biui not in the ruins at all ; and even if

I we had But it is unnecessary," he suddenly

interrupted himself, '• to add another syllable ! It
is unnecessary, because it is useless! You be-
I lieve me guilty ; and I repeat, I dare not blame
I you,"

{ " Besj; assured, Durazzo," I answered, " that no
i one in the whole world — no, not even your Leonora
herself — would with greater joy hail the proof of
j your innocence !"

At this moment the door of the court-yard
I opened ; and the turnkey made his appearance,

to intimate that my stay had been long enough.
j " I do not ask you to visit me agaio," said Du-
I razzo : " indeed I would rather that you should
I not, since you believe me guilty. Where there
I has been such friendship, there would now be a
j proportionate constraint. Yet if you receive any

tidings •"

I " I know to whom you allude," I interrupted
} him ; " and rest assured I should not fail to come
; and impart any such intelligence. It is my pur-
I pose to remain awhile at Ajaccio ; and if I can be

j of service to you "

I The turnkey grew impatient; and I was com-
I polled to hm-ry away, — neither of the Greeks
offering to take my hand, but both following me
with mournful looks; for I perceived them thus
I gazing after me as 1 glanced back on gaining the
I massive door. When outside the prison, I walked
I slowly away, reflecting sadly upon the interview.
I How was it, I asked myself, that they both so

JOSEPH WILMOT; OH, THE MEMOIRS OP A MAN-SERVANT.

ffarnestly asserted their innocence in my presence
when they mvst have known that their case looked
blacker in my eyes, on account of the hidden trea-
sure, than even it did in the eyes of the world at
large ? — and yet that world at large entertained
not a single doubt of their criminality ! Then, how
could I ? Nevertheless, I felt uneasy on the sub-
ject : I strove to believe in even the bare possi-
bility of their innocence : I turned the whole case
over and over again in my mind ; but the longer I
reflected upon it, the more damnatory seemed all
its details.

As I was returning in the direction of my hotel,
I met Signor Turano— who, with that gentlemanly
courtesy which so eminently characterized him,
shook me by the hand and glided into a conversa-
tion on general topics. He turned to walk with
me ; and perceiving that my demeanour was me-
lanclioly, he inquired into the motive with an air
of friendly concern. I informed him that I had
been to see the two young Greeks on some little
matter of business ; and he said, " Ah ! it is a
shocking case. Castelli, who is charged with their
defence, tells me that they have not a hope."

" You are acquainted, then, with Signor Cas-
telli ?" I observed.

" Yes, I know him slightly," responded Signor
Turano. " But this visit to the prison has dis-
spirited you: and though our acquaintance has
been so brief, yet you will perhaps pardon me for
saying that I feel interested in you. Will you
dine with me this evening ? Perhaps we shall be
acting with a mutual charity : for you are all
lonely here— and I am the same."

I accepted the invitation ; and we separated for
the present. The Corsican gentleman, whom I
have before alluded to, was no longer at the hotel
where I was staying ; and thus 1 really had no
one to speak to, and was by no means sorry to
form the acquaintance of so accomplished, gentle-
manly, and engaging a man as Signor Turano.
Accordingly, at the appointed hour I repaired to
the hotel at which he was living ; and he received
me with the most courteous welcome. We sate
down to dinner ; and I soon found that my idea
of his conversational powers fell short of the extent
to which they could reach. He had travelled
much — he had evidently mixed in the best society
—he bad a fund of anecdote — and yet there was
nothing pedantic in his discourse ; nor had he the
air of monopolizing the conversation. If I had
not certain things hanging heavy upon my mind,
I ehould have spent an exceedingly pleasant even-
ing.

About three weeks passed away, during which
interval nothing of any consequence occurred. I
received a couple of letters from Signor Portici, to
the effect that Leonora was slowly recovering —
that her consciousness had returned — that she was
still confined to her bed — and that, as he had pre-
dicted, she would not hear of Constantine's guilt.
Twice did I again call upon Durazzo in the prison,
to communicate the tidings of Leonora's improved
health : but on neither of these occasions did
another syllable emanate from his lips in the shape
of argument or assurance relative to his innocence.
I saw Castelli two or three times : but he was
generally in tuo great a hurry to have any leisure
for discourse. Turano I met tVcquently : v^e some-
times dined together; and the more I saw of him,

the more I liked him. By the way, it will be as
well to observe that I learnt in tbo course of coii-
versation that he had some importaut business
which vras detaining him at Ajaccio.

The day for the trial of the two Greeks was now
close at hand ; and, as the reader may suppose, the
case excited a very great sensation at Ajaccio. By
a singular coincidence the Special Land Commission
found itself called upon to consider the claims to
the Monte d'Oio title and property on the very
same day as that appointed for the trial of Du-
razzo and the page. This arose from the fa^t of
the Commissioners taking the cases in the order in
which they were originally entered in their books.
Castelli was engaged in both the criminal and the
civil case : but this produced hiui little inconveni-
ence, for the reasons which I will immediately ex-
plain. In the first place, in respect to Durazzo
and the page, it was merely his duty as a lawyer
to prepare the brief for their defence, which was
to be conducted by able counsel retained for the
purpose. Tlierefore Castelli's presence in the
criaiinal tribunal was scarcely needed. In the
second place, the Land Commissioners sate in a
hall next to the criminal tribunal itself — all the
law-courts of Ajaccio being beneath one roof, the
building itself bearing the usual French denomina-
tion of the Palace of Justice. Thus Signor Cas-
telli was enabled to step from one Court into
another, according as his presence might be needed
ia either.

Previous to the unfortunate affair in which the
two Greeks were involved, I had experienced a
deep interest in the Monte d'Oro case in conse-
quence of all I had heard from the Corsican
gentlemen whom I met at the hotel when first at
Ajaccio. But the other and far graver case had
lately absorbed all the curiosity I had felt in the
former, — of which indeed I had lately ceased to
think. But when the day came for the hearing of
the two cases, I entered the Court in which the
Land Commissioners sate : for the Monte d'Oro
case came on at ten o'clock in the morning —
whereas the trial of the prisoners was not to com-
mence until eleven, on account of some mistake in
notifying to the farmer and his son the precise
period when their presence would be again re-
quired at Ajaccio as witnesses.

In the Court of the Land Commissioners I met
the Corsican gentleman, who informed me that he
had only returned that very morning from a visit
to France. The Court was much crowded : but I
had no doubt that the greater portion of the
audience would flit away at eleven o'clock to the
criminal tribunal adjoining. Signor Castelli, with
two barristers, was seated at the table, — having a
vast pile of papers before him ; but there did not
appear to be any other counsel present to assert
the pretensions of any opposing claimant. The
Deputy-Procurator Royal, or Sub-Attorney Gene-
ral, was however in his place to watch the pro-
ceedings on the part of the Crown, as is usual in
all the Courts in France and under French juris-
diction. The proceedings took place in French :
and therefore I had no difficulty ia comprehending
them. There were three Commissioners, who were
robed as Judges, and who sate upon the bench; so
that the appearance of the Court was perfectly
judicial.

" This is a case," said the Clerk of the Courts

284

JOSEPH WILMOT; OB, THE MEMOIBS OF A ilAN'SEEVANT.

" in which the Royal Commissioners are called
upon to adjudicate in respect to the domain of
Monte d'Oro, the possession of which confers the
style and title of Count. It likewise appears that
the Eoyal Commissioners are to be called upon to
adjudicate in respect to the estates bordering upon
those of Monte d'Oro, and which were wont to be
known by the collective title of the Patrimony of
St. Bartholomew. No opposition is entered on the
part of any persons at present holding divers por-
tions of the lands about to be claimed for other
individuals."

Here the Boyal Procurator rose, and said, " I
have been consulted by many of the persons now
holding such portions of the lands of the two
domains ; and I have felt it my duty to recom-
mend that they should leave the case in the hands
of myself as the representative of the Crown, and
in that of the Royal Commissioners. For in
respect to the parties now appearing by counsel
to claim those domains jointly or severally, it will
be for us to consider whether their claim be good
or not. If it be rejected, there is necessarily an
end of the case; and those who now hold the
lands will remain in undisputed possession of
them. But if, on the other hind, the claim be
made good, — then, by the mere fact of aa adjudi-
cation in that sense, the present holders of the
lands become at once dispossessed thereof; and
according to the terms of the Act of the French
Legislature appointing the Royal Commission, the
said holders must deliver up immediate and peace-
able possession to the claimant or claimants whose
rights shall have been coailrmcd by a judgment in
their favour."

The senior of the two counsel whom Castelli
had retained, now rose and addressed the Commis-
rioners in the following manner : —

" Gentlemen, as a necessai-y preliminary to the
case which is about to be submitted to your con-
sideration, it is for us to prove that the same
claimant whom we shall presently put forward to
the domain and lordship of Monte d'Oro, is like-
wise 'the claimant to the patrimony of St. Bar-
tholomew. We will prove by incontestable docu-
mentary evidence that at the time when those
fatal incidents to which I need not more especially
allude, occurred a century and a half back at the
monastery of St. Bartholomew, — the entire patri-
mony of that monastery was duly conveyed, as-
signed, and made over by the Genoese authorities
to the Count of Moute d'Oro. The keeper of the
archives of the chancery at Bastia will presently
bo in attendance with a register, and with two
other documents, which will prove the facts I am
stating. Signor Castelli is likewise prepared to
produce the exact copies of the entry in that
register and of the conveyance-deeds, which after ,
a long and tedious search he discovered amongst a
number of mouldering documents in some obscure
corner of his establishment. Those copies bear
the attesting signatures and the seals of the regu-
larly constituted authorities of the period to which
I am alluding; — and that these signatures and
seals are correct and genuine, will bo proven to
you by the registrar from Bastia, who has brought
with him a number of other deeds and documents
of the same period and with the same signatures
and seals. It is necessary for me to mention that
Signor Castelli's law-agency establishment has

been in existence for two centuries and a half; and
the present respected proprietor thereof has by his
character rendered himself worthy of the honour-
able name transmitted to him by his ancestors.
It would appear that for many years the Castellis
— the progenitors of him who is now present —
were the legal advisers and conveyancers for the
Monte d'Oro fkmily, — the connexion only ceasing
when the last bearer of the proud title of Monte
d'Oro met a sudden and violent death. I submit
these particulars to you, gentlemen, in order to
explain how it is that any documents connected
with the Monte d'Oro family should have been
found in the establishment of Signor Castelli. I
now beg to call the registrar of Bastia, who will
place before you the various evidences to which I
have alluded, — and which, 1 feel convinced, will
satisfy the Royal Commission as well as the learned
gentleman representing the Crown, that the patri<
mony of St. Bartholomew must merge into and
become amalgamated with the domain of Monte
d'Oro."

Here the barrister sate down ; and my Corsican
acquaintance whispered to me, " I told you that
Castelli was a shrewd keen man of business, and
knew perfectly well what he was about."

" But why does not the claimant to these estates
make his appearance ?" I asked. " I have looked
around over ihe crowded assemblage; and though
I perceive a deep interest expressed on many a
countenance, yet I fail to detect that peculiar
anxiety of suspense which would serve to indicate
the particular one who is now playing for so large
a stake."

"Depend upon it," responded the Corsican, in a
whisper, " Castelli has good reasons and motives for
everything that he does."

I know not how it was— but at that instant a
strange suspicion struck me. This Corsican gen-
tleman who had all along appeared to be so well
acquainted with the matter, — might he not be the
claimant who had so deep an interest in the ques-
tion now at issue P I looked at him stealthily
though earnestly : but his countenance was calm,
and afforded no indication to justify my suspicion.
Still that suspicion was not destroyed within me ;
and on that very account I grew all the more in-
terested in the case that was progressing. As I
looked around, I now perceived a little old man
making his way through the crowd, followed by a ,
boy carrying a huge dingy volume with massive
brazen clasps, and a large roll of musty parch-
ments tied round with tape. The old gentleman,
who was of most respectable appearance, ascended
into the witness-box ; and on bowing to the Commis-
sioner aud the Procurator, his salutation was ac-
knowledged by them with a sort of friendly
familiarity which showed that he was an old ac-
quaintance.

This was the registrar of the Corsican chancery,
or depot of archives, at Bastia — which fown, in the
time of the Gsnoese rule, was the seat of the in-
sular government and the capital of the island.
Having been sworn, he produced the various evi-
dences described by the learned counsel ; and these
were most carefully inspected by the Royal Com-
missioners. Signor Castelli then handed up the
deeds to which allusion had likewise been made :
and these also underwent the most rigid scrutiny
on the part of the Commissioners. The huge regis-

JOSEPH WILMOT; OE, THE MEMOIRS OP A MAN-SERVANT.

28a

ler and the pile of documents were then handed
over to the Deputy-Procurator, by whom they
were subjected to another examination ; and the
registrar was asked a variety of questions, to all of
which he responded in a manner that tended favour-
ably towards the issue at which Castelli was aiming.
The Deputy-Procurator expressed his opinion that
the evidence was altogether satisfactory ; and the
three Commissioners deliberated amongst them-
selves for a few minutes.

" Considering all that has now been laid before
us," said the senior commissioner, " we feel our-
selves competent to pronounce our decision on this
first question which has arisen concerning the
claims to the Monte d'Oro property and lordship.
We therefore decree, and be it solemnly and finally
decreed, that the patrimony of St. Bartholomew
merges into and becomes amalgamated with the
domain of Monte d'Oro. We are now ready to
proceed to the next stage of this most important
case."

When the Clerk of the Court had duly recorded
the judgment just rendered, the second of the two
barristers, whom Signor Castelli had retained, rose
and addressed the Eoyal Commissioners in the fol-
lowing manner : —

"It now devolves upon me, gentlemen, to solicit
your attention to the facts which I am about to
lay before you. I must go back to that time when
tlie last bearer of the title of Monte d'Oro was in
existence. That nobleman had a son — an only
son — who was consequently his heir. Of the exist-
ence of that son, whose Christian name was Pedro,
the most incontestable proofs will be laid before
you — which proofs have emanated from amidst the
mass of documents relative to the Monte d'Oro
family which Signor Castelli has discovered in his
office. The Count of Monte d'Oro's son Pedro
was driven from the paternal home by the
tyranny, the cruelty, and the vices of his sire.
From letters which the young man addressed to
the Signor Castelli of that day, and which will pre-
sently be produced, it will be seen that he possessed
the noblest disposition, the most generous senti-
ments, and a lofty appreciation of all that was cor-
rect, moral, and honourable. It is not therefore
surprising that such a young man as Pedro
should have been shocked by the character of
such a father — and that after he had quitted
home, subsequent events should have made him
loathe the idea of assuming at his sire's
death the blood-stained title of Monte d'Oro.
Under an assumed name Pedro repaired to Italy,
where he married a German lady who was travel-
ling at the time with her father in that country.
He accompanied his bride and her parent to their
native Hanoverian clime, where he entered the
military service of that Electorate. But it is ne-
cessary to observe that Pedro's marriage took place
before his father's death; — and when some vague
rumour of that sire's tragic end reached the son's
ears, he proceeded to Corsica under a strict incog-
nito to ascertain the whole truth. This incognito
was thrown off only towards the Signor Castelli of
that day ; and it would appear, by a memorandum
recently found in the Castelli establishment, that
Pedro, though heir to the title and domain of
Monte d'Oro, positively and resolutely abjured his
heritage. He said that he had married into an
honourable family, and that he wore the sword of

an honourable service — that he should therefore
consider he was disgracing that family and that
sword by taking possession of an estate which he
could only claim by assuming the blood-stained
title of Monte d'Oro at the same time. He bound
Castelli to secresy in respect to his visit to Corsica
and all that had taken place between them at this
interview. But the Castelli of that day, though
faithfully keeping his pledge of secresy, made a
memorandum of all these particulars; and this
memorandum, on being recently disinterred from
amidst a mass of other documents, furnished the
Signor Castelli who is now present in the Court
with a clue to the family into which the self-
sacrificed and self- exiled Pedro, heir of Monte
d'Oi-o, had married."

Here the learned counsel paused ; and the
audience was for a few moments relieved from the
breathless state of suspense in which this deeply
interesting speech had held every one present. I
again glanced at my Corsican friend; and me- .
thought that I discerned a peculiarity of expres-
sion in his features— a something more than the
mere passing interest of curiosity: but the next
instant his countenance had the same look as it
habitually wore.

"Gentlemen," resumed the learned counsel,
"having directed your attention to a few neces-
sary preliminary facts, I now pass on to the im-
portant statements which I have to lay before
you. When the Act of the French Legislature
was passed for the regulation of disputed Corsican
lands, and when his Majesty Louis-Philippe issued
his Royal ordinance appointing the present Com-
mission,— Signor Castelli, who is now present, be-
thought himself of mooting the question in respect
to the real ownership of the Monte d'Oro estates.
And let me assure you, gentlemen, that Signor
Castelli was not alone inspired by the hope of
profit in the exercise of his professional avoca-
tions : but as an honourable man he considered
that if there were any descendants of the Monte
d'Oro family now in existence, they ought to
seize this opportunity of doing themselves justice
and acquiring their legitimate rights. Signor
Castelli reasoned with himself that inasmuch, as
one generation is not responsible for the misdeeds
of its progenitors — and that inasmuch as more
than a century and a half had elapsed since that
date to which the crimes and the retributively
tragic end of the last Count of Monte d'Oro be-
longed— there need be no false shame nor fasti-
diousness now in any of his descendants coming
forward to claim that which is their due. In a
word, Signor Castelli, availing himself of the clue
furnished by the memorandum left by his ancestor,
and of which I have spoken, employed active
agents to institute inquiries in Germany. After
a world of trouble, and a considerable pecuniary
outlay, it was discovered that Pedro, the only
son of the last Count of Monte d'Oro, had left
behind him a numerous family, the issue of his
marriage with the German lady. It was further
discovered that of this progeny two only were sons :
the others were daughters. It therefore became
necessary to trace, if possible, the career of those
two sons. The elder was named Hermann — the
younger Karl. It was found that Hermann, the
elder, had migrated from Germany to Italy, where
he had married, and for certain pecuniary reasoni

had adopted the surname of his wife's family. It
would farther appear that he had actually come to
Corsica and lived awhile at ]3astia ; although there
is no reason to supposo that he had the slii^htest
idea of the existence of any connection between
his own especial interests and any circumstances
that had occurred in this island. His eldest son
married a Corsiean lady at Bastia ; and tlie next
that is heard of this branch of the family, is that
they migrated to Prance. There all trace was
suddenly and abruptly broken off, so far as con-
cerned the researches which Signer Castelli's agents
were enabled to make."

Here the learned counsel again paused : but in
a few moments he resumed his interesting narra-
tive in the following manner : —

" Having spoken of the elder branch — namely,
that of Hermann — I now come to the younger
one : namely, that of Earl. In pursuing this por-
tion of the clue, Signor Castelli's agents at first
experienced far more dilBculty than in the other
case : but when once they got upon the right
track, tliey were enabled to prosecute it far more
satisfactorily. They discovered that Karl had pro-
ceeded from Hanover to England — the Electors of
the former country having become Kings of the
latter. Karl entered the English navy — attained
a high rank — and died, leaving one son. This son
married an English lady; and the issue of this
marriage was a daughter. Here I must observe
that the Monte d'Oro property is not a male fief
only : and therefore the existence of female de-
scendants does not break the lineal claim to the
heritage. Tois daughter married an Armenian
merchant, who was visiting England at the time
on some particular business ; and she accompanied
her husband to the East. Tlie history, names, and
circumstances of their descendants have been fully
traced out by Signor Castelli ; and until very re-
cently, Signor Castelli entertained the tirm convie-
tion that it was the last of these male descendants
who might be brought forward as the lawful clai-
mant to the title and property of ilonte d'Oro.
Indeed, I believe that not more than a month has
elapsed since Signor Castelli made a communica-
tion in that sense to the Eoyal Commissioners —
his firm impression being that the elder branch
(namely, that of Hermann) was utterly and totally
extinct."

" We have a note to this effect," said the Senior
Commissioner, referring to a book which lay upon
the desk before him.

"' Suddenly however, and most unexpectedly,"
proceeded the learned counsel, " a gentleman pre-
sented himself to Signor Castelli, declaring that he
was a lineal descendant of the elder branch :
namely, that of Hermann. Signor Castelli had
no preference in the matter: all he sought was
that justice should be done and that the rightful
claimant should be put in possession of whatsoever
titles and estates might legitimately belong to
him. He therefore at once investigated the claims
of the gentleman who thus presented himself; and
after a careful study of the matter, he arrived at
the conclusion that the pretensions were valid
and that the gentleman alUiJed to is the
undoutted legitimate descendant of Hermann.
In the first instance the claimant proved that he
had always borne that Italian name which Her-
mana had adopted on his marriage with the

Italian lady ; and he placed in Signor Castel!i*a
hands a number of documents to substantiate his
descent from that same H.^rmann. These, and
other minuter details, will presently become the
subject. Gentlemen Commissioners, of your inves-
tigation. The claimant who is about to appear
before you, has for some weeks past been residing
in Corsica : but he has thought it fit to retain a
strict incoifnito so far as his claim to be recog-
nised as the Count of Monte d'Oro is concerned :
for in consequence of t'_ie excitement produced by
this most reiu;irkable case, he has chosen to avoid
rendering himself the object of public curi-j^ity.
I believe that he is now in court — or at all events
he is close at hand; and is prepared to present
himself before the E lyal Comoiissioners."

The learned counsel ceased ; and again did I
glance towards my Corsiean companion. For a
moment I felt convinced that my suspicion was
correct, and that he was really the claimant, on
account of the expression of deep interest which
his features assumed. But he did not step forward
— he said not a word : he only looked quickly, and
methought anxiously, around. I was bewildered,
and knew not what to think.

There was now a sensation amongst the audi-
ence : the crowd was dividing to make way for
some one who was entering the court : but I could
not immediately see who the individual was, as I
was completely hemmed in by the throng. The
barrister who had last spoken, caught sight of the
entering personage before I did; and he said, ad-
dressing himself to the Commissioners, — '"' Here,
gentlemen, is the claimant to the title and estates
of Monte d'Oro."

I stood upon tiptoe : I now obtained a view of
him ; and it was with difficulty I could repress an
ejaculation of surprise on beholding Signor Turano.
He advanced towards the table at which the bar-
risters and Signor Castelli were seated ; and with
that elegant courtesy which so eminently charac-
terized him, he bowed to the Commissioners and to
the Diputy-Procurator.

" This gentleman," said the barrister who con-
ducted the latter portion of the case — and he
politely indicated the claimant who had stepped
forward, — "is Signor Alberti Turano; and Turano
was the family name which his progenitor Her-
mann adopted on espousing the Italian lady."

At this moment my Corsiean acquaintance
stepped forward — rapidly worked his way tlirough
the intervening portion of the crowd — and laying
his hand upon Signor Turano's shoulder, he said,
"Tou are my prisoner: I arrest you for for-
gery I"

CHAPTER CXXXYHL

THE STILEIIO.

It would be impossible to describe the sensation
produced by this extraordinary and most unex-
pected incident of the drama which was progressing.
For myself, I was seized with such a degree of
astonishment that for a few instants I could only
regard it all as a dream. When I began to recover
my self-possession, — which through amazement I
temporarily lost,— I observed that Signor Turano

JOSEPH WILMOT; OE, THE MPMOIES OF A 3JAK SERVANT.

287

was as pale as death, that his hps were ashy white,
and that he was gazing' with a perfect agony of
dismay, so to speak, upon tlie Corsican who had
just arrested him, Signer Castelli was evidently
as much stricken with astonishment as myself: in
short, such a turn was given to the proceedings
that I do verily believe every one totally forgot the
other remarkable trial which had by this time
commenced in the arijoining Court.

The idea that Turano should be a forger— that
mild gentlemanly personage whose manners were
80 prepossessing, whose conversation was so delight-
ful, and for whom I had begun to conceive ft feel-
ing bordering upon friendship — it seemed to be
Bometbing incredible ! And yet it was all true.
There they stood, — the accused and the accuser ;
and the former ventured not to breathe a single
word of denial to the ehflrge thrown out against
him by the latter. For two or three minutes there
was a complete suspension of the business of the
Special Commission, — until the Deputy-Procurator
Eoyal rose and said, " This individual is accused of
forgery. Does his accuser mean that he has forged
documents which in any way bear upon the present
case ? — for if so, you. Gentlemen Commissioners,
will at once take cognizance of the offence. But
if on the other hand the charge Qf forgery has no
reference to the business now engaging our atten-
tion, the prisoner must be removed and taken be-
fore the proper criminal magistrate."

" The forgeries of which Turano is guilty," said
the Corsican, " have reference to the present case.
I am one of the chiefs of the department of the
Secret Police in Paris ; and here is my authority
for the step which I have just taken,"

Thus speaking, the Corsican handed the docu-
ment to the Clerk of the Court, who passed it up to
the presiding Commissioner, by whom it was atten-
tively read,

" It is perfectly formal," said this functionary ;
" and we will proceed with the investigation of the
case,"

" I demand," said the Corsican, " that what-
soever documents Turano i:.ay have placed in
the hands of Signor Castelli, be at once im-
pounded."

" I will save the Court the necessity of issuing
an order to that effect," observed Castelli : "for I
at once hand over to the Deputy-Procurator what-
soever documents the prisoner may have placed in
my hands."

"While this colloquy was progressing, Turano
sank down upon a seat just behind the barristers'
table, and thus concealed himself from the view
of the great bulk of the audience. From the
position which I occupied, I could obtain a partial
view of him : J saw that he was covering his face
with his hands, and that his posture indicated the
deepest mental dejection. The deeds being handed
over to the Crown lawyer, the Corsican proceeded
to give the following explanations :—

" Many years ago an individual bearing the
name of Turano was tried before a Paris tribunal
for various acts of swindling; and he was sen-
tenced to the galleys for a period. He accom-
plished his term of penal servitude at Toulon ; and
theace, it is believed, he passed in the first instance
to England. There he lived as a mere adventurer,
— his plausible manners obtaining many dupes.
From England it is supposed that he returned to

the Continent, where he travelled about through
many countries, living in the same disreputable
manner as before. At length, some few months
back, he reappeared in Paris, — doubtless hoping
that in the long interval which had elapsed since
his previous adventures there, he was altogethet
forgotten. But information was given to th^
police; and a watch was set upon his actions. It
was aacertained that he was well supplied with
money, and that he was living creditably so far as
the payment of his bills was concerned. But in
the course of time something transpired to excite
suspicion that he was playing a deep and nefarious
game. He made inquiries at the shop of a law-
stationer for some blank legal forms bearing the
Government stamps of several years back. These
^orms he succeeded in procuring. The purpose for
which he required them still remained a mystery ;
and although I felt coaviuced he had an unlawful
object in view, yet without further evidence I
could not possibly interfere with him. A con-
tinuous watch was however kept upon his pro-
ceedings : but all of a sudden, a few weeks ago,
he disappeared from Paris — and no trace could
be obtained of the direction which he had taken.
It was hoivever believed that ho had returned to
England ; and amidst tiie pressure of other busi-
ness he and his affairs were forgotten. Very
shortly afterwards I was charged with a secret
mission to Aji.ccio— a mission which was speeidly
entrusted to me as I myself am a Corsican by
birth. What this mission was, it is unnecessary
for me to mention, inasmuch as it has nothing to
do with the present case. Suffice it to say that
this mission brought me to Ajaccio; and I had not
been in the town many days, when accident threw
me in the way of Signor Turano. I was wrtlking
through the streets with a young Engliij'a gentle-
man, when we met Turano, — with whom it ap»
peared this English gentleman had some slight
previous acquaiotance. I should observe, to pre-
vent misconception, that the English gentleman—
whom I need not name— is of the highest respec-
tability; and I am convinced that he was totully
ignorant of the real character of Turano, Turano
kuew me not : but I resolved to ascertain for what
purpose he was at AjaccLO. I soon succeeded in
discovering that he had called at Signor Castelli's
office; and then it suddenly occurred to me that ho
might possibly be asserting a claim to the estates
of Monte d'Oro, Knowing that some little time
would elapse before this case would come on for
hearing— and having found out that Turano had
been in Bastia and other parts of the island betbre
coming to Ajaccio — I determined to follow up the
clue thus afforded to me. I repaired to Bastia —
but could learn nothing there, beyond the fact that
Turano had arrived in the first instance by the
Marseilles steamer. I proceeded to Marseilles :
and there I obtained information which induced
mo to hasten on to Paris. On instituting inquiries
in the capital, I found out a scrivener in very
humble circumstances, who had been employed bj
Turano to fill up certain documents in the wonted
lasv-style of writing and with the proper legal
phraseology. I likewise discovered, beyond all
possibility of doubt, that this Turano — though
bearing the same name — is in reality no connexion
of the elder branch of the Monte d'Oro family :
neither is his Christiaa name re^illy Alberti. It is

288

JOSEVH WILMOT ; OB, TKB ATEMOnta OP A MAN-8EBVANT.

therefore evident, gentlemen, that availing himself
of the identity of surnames, he was resolved to
play a bold stroke for the acquisition of a title
and a fortune ; and I am prepared to show that the
deeds which he placed in Signor Castelli's hands,
and which are now impounded by the Court, are for-
geries. They were written by the old scrivener
from copies furnished by Turano,— their object be-
ing to prove his descent from a family to which be
does not belong, and to support the claim which
without any legitimate ground he has dared to put
forward. Having satisfactorily arrived at the
knowledge of these details in the French capital, I
hastened back to Ajaccio, — arriving here only just
in time for the opening of this Court to-day. I
should at once have given the necessary informa-
tion to Signor Castelli, and have taken the forger
Turano into custody ; but you may comprehend,
gentlemen, that it was necessary I should allow
the proceedings to go to a certain length in order
to acquire the positive proof that Turano would
really make use of the forged documents, and
would really stand forward to assert his claims to
the Monte d'Oro property. In conclusion, gen-
tlemen, I would observe "

At this moment the Corsican's speech was cut
short by the abrupt opening of the folding-doors
of the Court, and the entrance of a couple of
gendarmes, conducting between tliem an elderly
female who by her dress appeared to belong to the
peasant class. But before I continue this portion
of my narrative, it will be necessary to give some
few explanations of what had in the meanwhile
been taking place in the other Court.

As I have already said, the trial of Durazzo and
the young page was not to commence until eleven
o'clock J and precisely at that hour the two pri-
soners were placed in the dock. Prom all I sub-
sequently learnt, the demeanour of Constantino
Durazzo Kanaris was calmly firm, nnd precisely
that which an innocent person might have been
supposed to wear. The young page was much de-
jected : but still he seemed to cling with a sort of
blind confidence and brotherly reliance to his elder
companion. The Chief Procurator Royal appeared
to prosecute on behalf of the Crown ; and the in-
dictment was read by the Clerk of the Court.
Two able counsel, who were retained by Signor Cas-
telli, appeared on the prisoners' behalf. The first
witness summoned was the farmer's son ; and he
detailed all those facts which have been previously
laid before the reader. These, as a matter of
course, appeared to tell terribly against the pri-
soners : but the farmer's son wound up by making
a statement which took everybody who heard it
with the utmost surprise : —

"I have already said, and it is also specified in
the indictment " — thus ths farmer's son spoke —
" that the weapon with which the fearful deed was
committed, could not be discovered at the time.
"When I attended before the Judge of Instruction
about a month back, I was informed by that func-
tionary that notwithstanding the strength of the
evidence against the prisoners, it was nevertheless
desirable to make a search for the weapon ; and as
I live close by the spot where the murder took
place, I volunteered to make that search. Several
times during the past month have I visited the
ruins of the monastery to search for the weapon :
but without success, until yesterday afternoon. I

was on the very point of finally abandoning that
search as a useless one, when happening to tread
amongst some long grass between the masses of
fallen masonry, my foot struck against something
in so peculiar a way that I was induced to stoop
down nnd pick it up. It was a long dagger or
stiletto. I at once hastened home to the farm,—
where I found that during my absence a messen-
ger from the Court had been to summon my
father and myself to be at this tribunal at eleven
o'clock to-day. The messenger had taken his de-
parture ; and I could not therefore communicate
to him the discovery I bad made. It was
then about six o'clock in the evening. My
father and I resolved that we would per-
form half of our journey — namely, twenty-fivo
miles — in our own chaise-cart last night— that we
would rest at the midway town — and come on to
Ajaccio, also with our own vehicle, this morning.
We set out, taking the dagger with us. In the
neighbourhood of the ruins of Monte d'Oro Castle
live an old couple who are distantly related to our
family. The cottage they inhabit being on our
road, we baited there for a few minutes to rest
ourselves and the horse. The conversation natu-
rally turned upon the business that was taking us
to Ajaccio ; ^ndi showed the old couple the dagger
which I had discovered. To our astonishment
they at once seemed to recognise it : they examined
it closer — the recognition was complete. They
then told us circumstances which at once seemed
to give such an altered complexion to the whole
affair, that we decided upon bringing the woman
with us to Ajaccio : for her husband is too much
of an invalid to leave his own dwelling. On account
of an accident which happened this morning to
our horse, we only succeeded in reaching the Court
after the indictment had been read and at the very
moment I was summoned as a witness by the
usher: — otherwise I should have made these facts
known to the counsel for the prisoners. I now
produce the dagger : and the female relative whom
I have brought hither, is present in the Court to
tell all she knows."

It may be more easily conceived than explained
how great was the sensation which the narrative
of the farmer's son produced amongst the crowded
auditory, as well as in respect to the bench, the
bar, the jury, and the prisoners. As I subse-
quently learnt, Constantino Durazzo was seen to
snatch the young page's hand and press it fervidly
— while the youth himself murmured some words
of thanksgiving to that heaven which at the
eleventh hour was working out so marvellous a
change in the circumstances that environed his
eompanion and himself. The stiletto was handed
to the judges — and by them to the Eoyal Procura-
tor. Be it observed that not a syllable had been
said proclaiming the innocence of the two Greeks :
but from the tenour of the language held by the
farmer's son it was evident enough that some im-
portant revelations were to be made, which would
give an altered complexion to the whole affair.

The old peasant- woman was placed in the
witness-box, and duly sworn. She spoke as fol-
lows : —

" About six weeks ago, as near as I can recol-
lect, a gentleman called at our cottage and asked
if he could be accommodated with a lodging for a
short period, as he felt much interested in th;

JOSEPH WILMOT; OR, THB MEMOIRS OF A MAK-SEEVANT.

289

scenery in that part of tbe country, and he also
wished to make some sketches of the ruins of
Monte d'Oro. We agreed to receive him ; and
he took up his abode with us. He seemed a very
nice gentleman ; and both my husband and myself
liked him much. He had brought a small carpet-
bag with him : he came on foot ; and 1 do not
know by what means of conveyance he first of all
arrived in our neighbourhood. He used to be
constantly talking of tbe old tales and legends
connected with the family of Monte d'Oro and also
with the Patrimony of St. Bartholomew ; and I
often thought he was singularly particular in
making me and my husband recollect dates and
other minute matters in connexion with all those
tales as we ourselves bad originally heard them
from our parents. One day, when he was out, I
must confess that I had the curiosity to look into
his carpet-bag, which he happened on that occa-
sion to have left unlocked ; and there I perceived
89

1 a long stiletto of very peculiar workmanship, as
well as a pair of pistols, 1 showed these things to

' my husband — but it was only as a mere matter of
curiosity ; for we did not think it at all strange that
a gentleman who travelled about in the lonely
parts of Corsica, should be thus armed. I remem-
ber that on the night of the murder the gentle-
man did not return home until late : but we
thought ni)thing of this either at the time or
afterwards, as he had stayed equally late on three
or four previous occasions. The next day he left
us before the tidings of the murder reached our
ears: but not for a single instant had we any sus-
picion against our late guest, because we were told
at the same time that the actual murderers had
been arrested, and that they were two Greeks."

It was at this stage of the proceedings in the
criminal tribunal, that a rumour circulated rapidly
amongst the audience to the effect that an extra-
ordinary scene had just taken place in the Court

290

JOSEPH WIIMOT ; OE, THB MEMOIES OP A MAK-SKBVAlfT.

of the Special Commission, and that a certain
Signer Turano had been arrested as an impoater
and a forger. The name of Turano happened to
reach the ears of the old peasant-woman ; and she
at once cried out that it was the name of the
gentleman who had lodged with her. The sensa-
tion was now immense ; and the presiding Judge
commanded the ushers to keep the doors of the
Court closed, so that no one should go forth to
give any intimation of what had just occurred.

" Take this witness," said the presiding Judge,
"into the nest Court; and let her there point out
to you the individual of whom she has been speak-
ing—if she should recognise him."

It was under these circumstances that the old
peasant-woman was brought by the gendarmes
into the Court of the Special Commission j and it
was their entrance which so abruptly cut short the
concluding observations which the Corsican was
making. It will be understood that I was at that
moment in utter ignorance of everything that was
taking place in the criminal tribunal ; but I was
just thinking of proceeding thither at the instant
the peasant-woman was ushered in by the police-
oflScers. That some fresh phase in the forenoon's
singular proceedings was about to develope itself,
I felt convinced ; and such was evidently the im-
pression of every one else: for the crowd instan-
taneously made way for the old woman and the
gendarmes to pass in the midst. Though ignorant
of what was to ensue, I was at once stricken by
the horrible ghastly look of dismay with which
Turano, who had started nervously up from his
seat, recogoised the old woman ; and she, pointing
her finger towards him in an excited manner, ex-
claimed, " 'Tis he ! 'tis be !"

Oh, what a scene then ensued !»-what a groan
of anguish came from the lips of the wretched
man! — for he understood in a moment what the
presence of the woman meant there : his guilty
conscience told him that he was unmasked and
discovered. Xever shall I forgot the unutterable
agony that was expressed in his countenance
when that moan had ceased and he had no longer
the power to send forth a sound from his lips. The
gendarmes seized upon him, exclaiming, "You are
our prisoner for murder !"

Murder !— good heavens! this was the first inti-
mation which I had of the horrible charge now
pressing against him ; and I was still in a bewil-
derment what to think, when the wretched man
suddenly cried out, "Avaunt, avaunt, Leone! —
come not near me with those ghastly gaping
wounds !"

A thrill of horror shot through the entire audi-
ence— a thrill that might be seen as well as felt —
the rapid electric influence of feelings painfully
startled. But to me what a revelat'on ! Turano
the murderer of Leone ! Then Durazzo and the
page were innocent ! They were innocent— and I
had all along believed them guilty ! Such a dizzi-
ness came over me that I felt as if I were about to
faint ; for joy itself was sickening in the excess of
its bewilderment. Little short of a miracle, had
it been said, could manifest itself in order to prove
Durazzo and the page completely innocent; and

this miracle had been wrought but as yet I

knew not how !

The wretched Turano, more dead than alive,
was conducted — or rather carried out of the Court,

by the gendarmes ; and he fainted when the
threshold was reached. He was conveyed to a
private room in the Palace of Justice; but none of
the crowd were permitted to follow thither. I
endeavoured to get into the Criminal Court : I
was anxious to be amongst the very first, if not
the first, to congratulate the Greeks upon this
change of circumstances that had been wrought in
their favour : but I found it absolutely impossible
to make my way amidst the mass that thronged
the place ; for the living tide had poured in from
the Court of the Special Commission. I was com-
pelled to wait for the present in the great hall
whence the Courts opened.

In a few minutes I perceived one of the gen-
darmes who had borne Turano to the private
room; and I spoke to him. He informed me that
the prisoner had come back to consciousness; and
that thoroughly dejected and broken down, he bad
volunteered a confession of his crime. The Judge
of Instruction had just been sent to him. I may
as well relate here those particulars which I did
not however learn until later in the day.

It appeared that Turano had a few months back
fallen in with Signer Leone in London, just at the
very time when the unfortunate young gentleman
had beard of the sitting of the Land Commis-
sioners at Ajaccio. From Leone's lips Turano
heard all the particulars of Leone's claim to the
patrimony of St. Bartholomew ; and the circum-
stances connected with the Monte d'Oro family of
a bygone period necessarily involved themselves in
Leone's explanations. Is was then that Turano
learnt for the first time that there were such lands
to ba claimed ; and by a singular coincidence he at
about the same period discovered that he himself
bore the very identical surname of the elder branch,
of the AToute d'Oro family, which had become
extincb at Marseilles, in France. This latter dis-
covery he made not through the young Leone, who
was himself iguorant of the fact: but it instan-
taneously set the active mind of Turano to work.
He repaired to Paris, where, as we have already
seen, he arranged the requisite forgeries for the
support of the claim which be purposed to
advance; and after a while he set out fur Mar-
Eeilles— thence passing over to Corsica. On his
arrival in the island he first of all repaired to the
vicinage of the ruins of Monte d'Oro, in order to
glean as many traditionary facts as he possibly
could, so that he might render every detail of his
own statement completely consistent with past
events. It would appear that while rambling
about in that vicinage, and penetrating near to the
ruins of Sc. Bartholomew, he suddenly encountered
Signer Leone. This was in the middle of that me-
morable day in the evening of which the murder was
perpetrated. The meeting was most unexpected,
— Turano little dreaming of finding Leone in that
neighbourhood. But all of a sudden it struck
him that if he did not at once mention that he
himself was a claimant to the Monte d'Oro pro-
perty, and perhaps (according to circumstances) a
claimant to the patrimony of St. Bartholomew
likewise, Leone would think it strange when sub-
sequently finding him stepping forward as such a
claimant. Turano therefore announced his pre-
tensions. Leone, who had all along been appre-
hensive lest a member of the supposed extinct
family of Monte d'Oro should suddenly make hi.»

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OE, THE MEM0IB3 OP A MAN-SEEVANT.

291

appearance, haughtily derided the pretensions of
Turano ; and bade him recollect that, only a few
months back he was evidently ignorant of all par-
ticulars respecting the two estates until he had
heard them from his (Leone's) own lips. Turano
at once saw that he bad a dangerous adversary to
deal with ; and he was indiscreet enough to pro-
pose to waive every claim to the patrimony of St.
Bartholomew, provided that Leone would pledge
himself not to breathe a syllable to injure him in
his pretensions to the Monte d'Oro title and estate.
Leone must have at once perceived that he was
dealing with a villain, an impostor, and a cheat ;
and he indignantly refused to eflfect any such
compromise. Then Turano besought him to ob-
serve the strictest silence as to everything that had
passed,— promising to leave Corsica the very next
day and abandon all his pretended claims. He
exhibited such contrition that Leone, naturally
generous-hearted, was moved towards him; and
he promised to throw the veil of secresy over all
that had occurred, provided Turano would faith-
fully fulfil his promise. The villain bound himself
by an oath to that effect : but he inwardly resolved
to remove Leone from his path. He hastened to
his lodging to procure his weapons : he armed
himself— h* stole back into the neighbourhood
of the farm-house— he watched — and at length
dogged Leone in his evening visit to the ruins
of the monastery. Stealing' in amidst those
ruins, he suddenly rushed upon Leone with his
stiletto, and struck him down. To make sure of
his deadly work, he inflicted numerous stabs : but
scarcely was the murderous deed complete, when
it struck him that he heard the sounds of the
wheels of a vehicle and of a horse's hoofs some-
where amongst the ruins. This must have been
the moment of the arrival of the two Greeks in
the cart which they had hired to carry off the
treasure. Stricken with a wild affright, and afraid
every moment of being arrested, the murderer
flung away the poniard ; so that the evidence of
his crime should not at all events be found upon
him ; and he succeeded in making his escape from
amidst the ruins.

Having laid before the reader this explanation,
I may resume the thread of my narrative. I
waited perhaps for about half-an-bour in the hall
of the Palace of Justice, — when the crowd came
pouring forth from the criminal tribunal ; and
presently I was rejoined by the Corsican Chief of
the Secret Police at Pt-ris. This gentleman in-
formed me that Turano had confessed everything,
and that the two Greeks had been consequently
set at liberty.

" But 1 have no time for explanations now as
to all that Turano said," added the Corsican: "for
Castelli has begged me to return into the other
Court, to hear the progress ot the case before the
Special Commission, 1 do not know what he
means But come along with me !"

"No," I answered : "I have no longer any in-
terest in that case. I must see the two Greeks —
I must congratulate them "

"They are gone into the advocates' private
room," interrupted the Corsican : " they are with
Castelli and the counsel who were engaged in
their defence. You shall see them presently. Let

us get out of this crowd Castelli himself told

roe to look for you and keep you with me."

'•■ That is different," I said. " The Greeks will
perhaps presently accompany him :" — aud I now
suffered myself to be led by the Corsican back
again into the Court where the Special Commis-
sioners sate.

These functionaries were at the moment re-
suming their seats upon the bench, after a tem-
porary retirement to their own private room : the
Deputy-Procurator Eoyal was also returning to
his place ; the crowd was collecting once more ;
and in a few moments Signer Castelli re-entered
the Court. He was unaccompanied by the Greeks;
and hastening towards him, I asked where they
were : for I was burning with the desire to proffer
them my joyous congratulations on the turn which
circumstances had taken.

" They will be here in a few minutes," responded
Slgnor Castelli ; " they are taking some little re-
freshment in the barristers' robing-room ; and I
have told them to follow me hither, as I knew
that you would be anxiously waiting to see them.

Pray curb your impatience 1 must get on with

this case ; for the Commissioners will not wait."

Having thus spoken, Castelli hastened to the
table where his two counsel were already arrang-
ing their papers; and for a few minutes he gave
rapid whispered instructions to one of them.

" Gentlemen," said the barrister just alluded to,
rising from his seat to address the Commissioners,
" we now resume the case which has already been
brought before your notice."

" But it seems to me," said the presiding Cora-
missionei', " that it is at an end ; and we only re-
sumed our seats in order to allow the pleas to be
formally withdrawn."

"I pray your attention, gentlemen," said the
advocate. " First of all, I am instructed to in-
form you that the very researches which the Chief
of the Secret Police of Paris made with a view to
fathom the proceedings of that wretched man
whose numerous crimes have this day been so pro-
videntially brought to light — those very researches,
I say, accidentally furnished the proof that the
real family of Turano — the elder branch of the
Monte d'Oro race— is utterly extinct. This cer-
tainty the Chief of the Secret Police acquired at
Marseilles, where it would seem that Turano, the
forger and murderer, instituted certain inquiries
previous to his coming to Corsica — those very in-
quiries which gave the Chief of the Secret Police
the clue that took him to Paris and enabled him
to find out the scrivener. Well, then, gentle-
men, the elder branch of the Monte d'Oro family
— that of Hermann — is extinct. But the younger
branch — the descendants of Karl— is not extinct.
A lineal representative is in existence. Signer
Castelli possesses the most incontrovertible evi-
dence to prove this statement. Had that wretched
man Turano made out his alleged claim as the
representative of the elder branch, it would never
have been necessary to mention the name of him
who is the lineal descendant of Earl, and conse-
quently the living representative of the younger
branch. It is only within the last quarter of an
hour that the individual thus alluded to has learnt
his good fortune, and had the happy tidings com-
municated to him that he is indeed the inheritor
of a noble title and the possessor of the united
estates of Monte d'Oro and St, Bartholomew.
Gentlemen, I beg to introduce him."

293

JOSEPH WTLMOT; OE, THE MEM0IE8 O? A MAN-SEBTAlfT.

Thus speak'D?, the advocate made a sign to an
usher who stood at a private door near the ex-
tremity of the judicial bench : the usher opened
that door— and Constantine Durazzo came forth,
followed by the youthful page.

The Court of the Special Commission was again
crowded j for the rumour had spread that the pro-
ceedings in the Monte d'Oro case were not brought
to a conclusion, but might possibly be reopened
with an increased degree of interest ; — and this
interest was now excited to the very utmost when
the two Greeks made their appearance. But what
words can depict the sensation which ensued when
Signor Castelli, hastening forward, took Durazzo
by the hand, — saying, " Permit me to be the first
publicly to congratulate you— as I was twenty
minutes back the first privately to announce to
you, that within the hour which is passing a
solemn decree of this tribunal will recognise you as
the Count of Monte d'Oro and owner of two vast
domains."

Yes — it was so ! — and that young man who so
lately had been a corsair-chief, and later still
branded by an accusation of murder, now found
himself the bearer of a proud patrician title and
the inheritor of immense wealth. The evidence
was gone into— the decree was given in his favour
— and the audience in that crowded court welcomed
the new Count of Monte d'Oro with a tremendous
cheer, which under the peculiar circumstances of
the case the ushers did not attempt to repress.
But I hasten over this portion of the proceedings
of that memorable day, in order that I may lose
as little time as possible in recording those inci-
dents that will be found in the ensuing chapter.

CHAPTER CXXXIX.

■woman's dktotiox.

I WAS seated with the two Greeks in my own
apartment at the hotel. We three were alone to-
gether. My first congratulations bad already been
profiered at the Palace of Justice ; and now they
were as fervidly renewed. I cannot possibly ex-
plain the amount of joy which I eiperience i at
the issue of two remarkable cases which had been
coincidentally taken cognizance of by a civil and a
criminal tribunal respectively. Equally impossible
is it to describe the joy of the two Greeks, — though
that of Constantine Durazzo Kanaris was of a
more solemn nature than that of the young page,
whose delight was full of youthful wildness.

Xever shall I forget the scene that took place
the moment after the two Greeks had entered my
apartment with me and the door was closed. They
embraced each other — they embraced me — and
then Constantine, advancing towards the window,
remained there for a few instants with his back
towards us ; and though he appeared to be gazing
forth upon the passengers in the street, yet I knew
full well that he saw nothing there— that all his
attention was turned inward — and that he was
silently breathing a prayer to heaven for having so
marvellously made his innocence manifest, and for
having at the same time given him wealth and
honours. It did really seem as if Providence had
purposely steeped that young man for a while in

the bitterest misfortunes, that his soul might be
purified and chastened in respect to whatsoever
was corrupt— and that at the very instant ho
issued forth from the ordeal, the means should ho
provided to furnish the opportunity for a perse-
verance in a good and virtuous course.

But, as I have said, we were now all seated to-
gether: the first gush of feelings was over — we
were becoming comparatively calm ; and we could
speak deliberately upon all those topics which
naturally entered into our discourse.

" I assured you, my friends," I said, " that there
was no one in the whole world who with greater
delight would hail the manifestation of your inno-
cence. But you must not blame me if for a time
I believed you guilty. Tou were wronged by such
a belief — but heaven knows I wronged you not
lightly nor wilfully !— there was a weight of terrific
circumstantial evidence pressing upon my mind,
and crushing all the endeavours that I made to
believe you innocent."

"We do not blame you, my dear Wilmot," re-
plied the Count of Monte d'Oro— for such is the
title by which Constantine must now be recog-
nised, " There was certainly a moment on the
occasion of your first visit to the prison, when I
felt hurt and indignant, because the soul chafes
terribly when conscious of its own innocence, and
when one's dearest friend brands it with guilt.
But it was impossible that you could entertain any
other opinion !"

" Yes, impossible !' added the young page.
" But I can assure you, Mr. Wilmot, that Constan-
tine never spoke of you otherwise than in terms
of the sincerest friendship."

" This is true !" exclaimed the Count of Monte
d'Oro; "and henceforth, Wilmot, nothing can pre-
vent us from being friends. You yourself have
given me so many, many proofs of the sincerest
friendship, that never, never can I forget them !
Even when a prisoner on board my vessel — your
own soul chafing there as mine has lately chafed
within the circuit of prison- walls— you could not
hate me : your generous nature inspired you with
other feelings. And when the Athene was about
to engage the Tyrol, you promised with so much
kindness of manner to fulfil the mission I confided
to you in case I should fall in the conflict I The
other day you abandoned to me the whole of that
treasure which we found in the ruins : and what
other human being than yourself would have re-
sisted the golden temptation .^ And then too,
though believing me to be a foul assassin, you
nevertheless undertook nay, more, you volun-
teered to do that towards my Leonora which was
intended to smoothe down the bitterness alike of
i her own anguish and of mine ; — and you came to
1 me in prison. I cannot help summing up all these
i things, Wilmot, though you are listening to me
I with impatience : but I repeat that they are proofs
! of friendship which never, never can be for-
gotten !"

"Xever, never!" murmured the young page:
and he surveyed me with looks expressive of the
deepest gratitude.

"And now, my dear Wilmot," resumed the
Count of Monte d'Oro, "you will no longer
object to take your share of tliat wealth which you
indeed were the means of discovering : for it was
i/onr perseverance on the occasion which fathomed

JOSEPH WIXMOT; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAK-SEEVANT.

29S

the mjstery of the buried treasure. Apart from
that wealth, I am now rich : vast estates have be-
come mine; and as it will be my pleasure as well
as my duty to bring into cultivation those tracts
which have suffered from neglect, the revenues
which the estates at present produce are as nothing
in comparison with what they may be made to
yield. And remember, Wilmot, I can now with-
out the least hesitation dispose of that treasure
which lies buried amongst the ruins of St. Bar-
tholomew : the whole estate is mine, as well as the
domain of Monte d'Oro !"

I suffered the Count to finish bia speech, al-
though from the very first my mind was made up
bow to act.

" Let us not argue the point," I said ; " for I
am resolute. I will receive none of that wealth ;
and once more let me rem'nd you of my own pro-
spects. If all should go well with me a few
months hence, I shall bec< me enriched by other
means : but if I be doomed to disappointment in
all that concerns my fondesH hopes, I shall fly to
some remote quarter of the world — there to carve
out a career and a fortune for myself, or else to
perish in obscurity, ily dear friend, let us not
say another syllable on the subject of that trea-
sure : there must be no argument now to interfere
with the joy which we are experiencing."

At this moment one of the hotel domestics
entered the room, and said to me, " Your instruc-
tions have been obeyed, sir. There is no regular
packet leaving Ajaccio this day for Civita Vecchia :
but a sailing-vessel has been hired for your use — I
and in another hour it will be ready to depart."

The message which was just delivered to me, \
must be explained. I need hardly say that the I
moment Constantine's innocence was made ap-
parent, and he likewise found himself the legally
acknowledged heir to a proud title and to vast i
estates, he was naturally most anxious to convey i
all these tidings to the charming and well-beloved I
Leonora. But he himself dared not proceed to j
Civita Vecchia ; for having previously been there
as the captain of a corsair-ship, he had rendered
himself liable to the Koman laws of piracy. I
therefore immediately volunteered to hasten off to
Civita Vecchia ; and the proposal was gratefully
accepted. But after the scene in the Palace of
Justice the enthusiastic crowd had gathered round
the young Greeks ; and as I had then joined them,
there was an utter impossibility for us to repair to
the harbour in order to inquire concerning the im-
mediate means of transport to Civita Vecchia.
We had therefore entered a hackney-coach, and
bad proceeded straight to my hotel — whence I de-
spatched a waiter to make the arrangements for
my voyage to the E.oman seaport. The result
was the message which bad just been delivered to
me.

Scarcely had the waiter left the room when he
re-appeared with the intimation that several per-
sons wished to proffer their congratulations to the
Count of Monte d'Oro and his youthful com-
panion. They were admitted ; and they proved to
be the worthy farmer and bis son, the old peasant
woman who had given such important informa-
tion, the Chief of the Secret Police at Paris, and
the governor of the prison in which the Greeks had
been confined. The Count received them with the
most friendly urbanity ; and to the old woman he

promised such a reward as should place herself and
her husband in the most comfortable circumstances
for the remainder of their days. When the party
had retired, I intimated to my Greek friends that it
was now time I should make my preparations for
proceeding to the harbour to embark : but I sug-
gested that they should not accompany me to the
port, as they would only find themselves the
objects of disagreeable curiosity, if appearing pub-
licly in the town so soon after the incidents at the
Palace of Justice, which had produced such great
excitement. Scarcely had I thus spoken, when
the door was flung open — a wild cry of delight
thrilled through the room — and the next instant
Leonora was embraced in the arms of the Count
of Monte d'Oro. Almost at the same instant my
hands were fervidly grasped by those of the
I worthy Judge : but several minutes elapsed ere a
I syllable was spoken in that room:— the hearts of
j all present were too full — Oh ! much too full for
; the utterance of what was felt.
I But I may here explain how it came to pass
that the Judge and his niece thus found their way
I to Ajaccio. As Signor Portici had foretold, and
' as the reader is already aware, Leonora would not
for a single instant believe that Constantine could
have been guilty of murder. That he was the
captain of a gallant pirate ship and of a bold law-
less band, she had indeed heard ; and this she
could not disbelieve : — but that he was a cold-
blooded assassin — no, impossible ! Though gifted
with a rare intelligence, and almost the last being
in the world to shut her mind against the pressure
of overwhelming evidence — yet in this instance
she had a holy faith, a sublime confidence, which
soared high above the intricate weavings of earthly
circumstances ; and though she could not perhaps
comprehend how it was possible for Constantino to
be innocent in the face of that evidence, still she
deemed it far more impossible that he could be
guilty. This belic-f of his innocence no doubt
assumed in her mind the nature and aspect of a
religion which believes without asking why it
believes, and whose faith being established on a
rock, cannot be shaken by even the most porten-
tous waves which the ocean of infidelity may hurl
against it. No — never for a moment did Leo-
nora's faith waver in that respect : and the mere
fact of finding her betrothed husband accused of
so heinous a crime of which she felt certain he was
innocent, threw completely into the shade that
other fact— namely, that he had been a pirate-
chief — and made his antecedents in this respect
dwindle down into comparative insignificance.

Her uncle, on the other band, was as morally
convinced as I had been of Constantine's guilt :
but from considerate motives he held his peace
in Leonora's presence. He respected her feelings
— he deeply commiserated her position— he sought
not to argue against that sublime belief which had
become with her a religion and a worship. At
length she was so far restored to health, that she
insisted upon repairing to Ajaccio. There was a
strong presentiment in her mind that heaven by
its own inscrutable means would work out the
manifestation of Constantine's innocence ; and she
was determined to be there to congratulate him on
the result. But it on the other band, as she had
said to her uncle, her fond fervent hopes should be
doomed to disappointment — if that trustfulness

294

JOSEPH WiLMOT; OE, THE MEMOIBS OP A MAy-gEEVAffT.

■which she was reposing in heaven should prove to
be the vain and baseless enthusiasm of her own
exalted feelings — if, in a word, the very worst
should happen and Constantine should be con-
demned to perish ignominiously on the scaffold, —
then, in this case, was it equally her duty to
be present on the spot that she might solace,
strengthen, and encoui'age him in his last moments.
Signor Portici, devotedly attached to his niece —
profoundly compassionating her — tenderly anxious
to consult her feelings in every respect — and ad-
miring the noble magnanimity which made her
cling to that sublime belief in which he himself
however could not share, — yielded to her solicita-
tions and embarked with her for Ajaccio. They
arrived in the port to hear, the instant they landed,
of the wildly wondrous and affeciingly romantic
turn which the whole proceedings had taken— how
the innocence of the two Greeks was so unmistak-
ably made manifest — how the real assassin of the
unfortunate Leone was discovered — and how Con-
stantine, as if to be rewarded by heaven for all he
had gone through, suddenly found himself the ac-
knowledged heir to vast domains and the possessor
of a proud patrician title.

The history of the female sex affords many
grand and affecting illustrations of the devotion with
which woman's heart clings, through all circum-
stances, to the object of its love — how it hopes on
in despair's despite — and how firmly it believes in
all that to the rest of the world seems stamped
with the wildest impossibility. There are instances
of this kind which have become immortalized in
the pages of history, and have formed the subjects
of oral traditions and of written tales : but there are
countless ot'ners which never having obtained such
wide publicity, are confined to the knowledge of that
limited circle in the midst of which they occurred.
But of all these examples, whether thus loudly and
widely bruited by the trumpet of fame, or whether
shadowed in comparative obscurity, none perhaps
was ever more noble or more affecting than that
which belongs to the episode I am engaged in nar-
rating. And, Oh ! can it not be well understood
that if there were a moment when more than at
any other Constantine had reason to rejoice in the
possession of wide domains and of a lordly title, —
it was now that, thanks to this sudden showering
of riches upon his head and this placing of a coro-
net upon his brow, he could bid Leonora become
the sharer of his prosperity, and could whisper-
ingly remind her that the antecedents of the
pirate-chief would be all absorbed and forgotten
amidst the lustre pertaining to the new name that
he now bore.

The remainder of that day constituted one of
the happiest periods of my life. Never shall I
forget how bright were the looks of all as we sate
together round the dinner-table in the evening !
The young page took his place with us — but as a
page now no longer : it was as the bosom friend
of him whom he had loved as a brother, and to
whom he had remained so faithfully attached.
When I looked at Leonora, and beheld the colour
again upon her cheeks, and joy dancing in her
beauteous eyes, and smiles playing upon her lips,
I thought to myself that love and happiness were
after all the best physicians— and that they in a
lew hours had accomplished those healing effects
for both body and mind, which the appliances ot

the medical art for as many months could not have
achieved.

The Judge and his niece were accompanied by a
valet and a lady's-maid ; and a separate suite of
apartments was taken for the accommodation of
their party in the hotel. Leonora was already
the bride of Constantine by virtue of the ceremony
which had taken place some weeks back at the
Judge's vUla: but, from a variety of motives of
delicacy, it was determined that the nuptials
should be again solemnized, and that the Count of
ilonte d'Oro should receive Leonora as his Coun-
tess at the altar of a church in Ajaccio. In the
evening I had some private convprsation with the
Judge. We discussed all the circumstances per-
taining to Constantine's antecedents as a pirate-
chief. There were four States to the laws of which
he had indubitably rendered himself amenable.
These were his own native G-reece— Rome— Tus-
cany— and Austria. "With regard to Greece, we
flattered ourselves that if a full statement of all the
circumstances which had originally driven Con-
stantine to piracy, were addressed to King Otho,
a full pardon might possibly be obtained ; so that
no one should ever thenceforth be enabled to hurl
a taunt at the Count of Monte d'Oro for being an
outcast from his native land. In respect to the
Eoman States, I hoped that the Judge's influence
joined to my interest with the Counts of Tivoli and
Avellino, and with the Cardinal Antonio Gravina,
would be effective in obtaining from the Yatican
a pardon similar to that which we expected to
procure from Athens. In the same sense would
the interest of the Count of Livorno, if exerted at
my instigation, avail with the Tuscan Court — and,
through the Tuscan Court, with the Austrian
Government likewise. All these hopes seemed the
more easy of realization, inasmuch as the Count of
Monte d'Oro was no longer an obscure or humble
individual, but had become a man of wealth and
rank, possessing the rights and able to claim the
protection of the powerful French Government.

On the day following the memorable incidents
which I have been describing, Signor Castelli called
at the hotel with all the legal documents conflrming
Constantine in the possession of his heritage, and
which were duly signed and sealed by the Special
Commission. K'ow, therefore, my Greek friend
was the undisputed owner of the domain of Monte
d'Oro and the patrimony of St. Bartholomew. He
at once instructed Signor Castelli to grant leases
on most favourable terms to those who had hitherto
held any portion of the lands as the possessors
thereof, but who now by altered circumstances had
become the young Count's tenants. To the husband
of the peasant-woman whose evidence had given
that wondrous turn to the criminal proceedings, a
liberal sum of money was presented : the cottage
and the little garden were likewise assigned to the
old couple as their freehold. I may here as well
observe that until the instant Castelli had ac-
quainted Constantine, at the Palace of Justice,
with the fact that he was the lineal representative
of the family of Monte d'Oro, the young Greek
had never dreamt of the existence of such a con-
nexion,— his progenitors having from various cir-
cumstances lost sight of their origin.

Immediately after Castelli's visit to the hotel, I
and the young page set off in a post-chaise lor
the ruins of St. Bartholomew, in order to tako

JOSEPH WIXMOT; OH, THB SrEMOIRS OP A MAN-SERVANT.

295

possession of the concealed treasure in the name I of temptation, had become a fallen object ; and
of the Count of Monte d'Oro. On arriving in the | having for years led the life of an adventurer, he
vicinage of our destination, we proceeded to the j at length played the bold but desperate stroke

farmer's house, where we distributed numerous
handsome presents with which Constantine had
charged us for this special purpose. We then un-
folded to the family the object of our visit to that
part of the country. As the reader may suppose,
the tale of the bidden treasure having been dis-
covered by us, was listened to with the wildest
astonishment : but the farmer and his sons readily
volunteered their assistance. To the ruins we pro-
ceeded. We carefully avoided the fatal spot where
the unfortunate Leone had met his death : none
of us experienced a morbid curiosity to cast
eyes on the scene where a fellow-creature's blood
had been spilt. On reaching the place where
the treasure was concealed, I was at once satisfied
that everything remained just as I had left it some
weeks previous — and that the precautions taken at
the time to conceal the subterranean, had proved
fully effective. We removed the fragments of ma-
sonry which we had piled over the opening — we de-
scended into the vault; and this time I had no diffi-
cillty in speedily opening the coffer. All the treasure
was there : the farmer and his sons contemplated
it with the utmost curiosity — but not with greedi-
ness. The gold, the silver, and the valuables were
removed to the cart which the farmer had brought
with him for the purpose ; and in this vehicle they
were transferred to the homestead, where they
were safely packed in the post-chaise. In addition
to the gifts sent by Constantine, and those which
I had on a former occasion despatched on my own
account from Ajaccio, I thought it right and proper
to add some further recompense now ; and I
accordingly distributed a few of the jewels which
formed part of the treasure, amongst the members
of the worthy family. They were highly delighted
to possess these memorials of the long-hidden
treasure of the monks of St. Bartholomew ; and
when the young page and myself took our depar-
ture we left grateful hearts behind us.

It was not however until the ensuing morning,
immediately after breakfast, that we left the farm-
homestead : for I did not choose to travel by night
with so costly a treasure in my charge. I had also
taken the precaution to be well armed : but we
performed the journey without the slightest moles-
tation, and without any incident worthy of note.
According to previous agreement with the young
Count of Monte d'Oro, I ordered the post-chaise
to drive straight to the principal banker's at
Ajaccio ; and there the treasure was deposited.

A piece of intelligence of a somewhat shocking
character awaited me on my return to the Cor-
sican capital ; Signor Turano had put an end to
his existence during the previous night, by open-
ing a vein in his arm and suffering himself to bleed
to death. It appeared that when the turnkey en-
tered the cell in the morning, he found the
wretched criminal still warm; and the surgeon
who was immediately fetched, declared that life
had not been many minutes extinct. Thus
perished a man who, with all the personal and
mental advantajes which he possessed, might have
proved a veritable ornament to society — but who,
by dissipated habits acquired in his early youth,
and through want of that real moral stamina which
can alone preserve men against the blandishments

which on the one hand might at once enrich and
ennoble him, or on the other hand plunge hitn
into a felons' gaol aud brand him with dis-
honour.

A feiv days afterwards the nuptials of the Count
of Monte d'Oro and tbe judge's niece were so-
lemnized at Ajaccio. The wedding was a private
one, — Signur Castelli, his wife, and his two
daughters being the only persons present in ad-
dition to our own party. Never did the young
Greek look handsomer : never did Leonora seem
more exquisitely beautiful. Her hair, dark as
n'ght, clustered in luxuriant masses beneath the
bridal veil: the superb symmetry of her form was
set off to the utmost advantage by the dress of
virgin white. The old Judge looked a dozen years
younger than he actually was — so joyous were the
feelings which inspired his soul. A splendid man-
sion, ready furnished, and situated in the vicinage
of Ajaccio, had been hired as the temporary abode
of the newly-married pair: for it was the resolve
of the Count of Monte d'Oro to build a large and
suitable house on the site of the ruins of his an-
cestral castle — so that he and his lovely Countess
might in due time dwell upon their own domniu
and in the midst of their tenantry, that the pos-
session of riches might in their hands become the
means of working out extensive benefits to their
fellow-creatures.

Almost immediately after their establishment
in their temporary home in the vicinage of
Ajaccio, the Count and Countess of Monte d'Oro
were visited by all the principal families of the
city and neighbourhood, — the very Judges who
had presided in the criminal court on the occasion
of the trial, setting the example. The attention
thus shown the young couple, conveyed its moral
lesson. It was to the effect that whatsoever might
have been the antecedents of Constantine, it was
considered that an adequate atonement had been
made by the horrible ordeal through which he had
been dragged ; and moreover that for the sake of
the charming and devoted creature who was now
his wife, his misdeeds might be over-looked. In
the visits of those families there was likewise a
homage paid to the irreproachable character of
Signor Portici himself; and thus, when once the
leading personages of the district had paid their
respects from the best of motives to the Count
and Countess of Monte d'Oro, all the other families
of that class who are ever ready to worship the
rising star of an individual's prosperity and riches,
flocked to the mansion.

The page — no longer a page however, as I have
before said — but regarded by Constantine as a
brother — took up his abode at that mansion ; as
did likewise the venerable judge. The latter
resigned his situation at Civita Vecchia,— retiring
on a handsome pension : for he had made xxp his
mind to pass the remainder of his days with his
dearly beloved niece and her husband. I remained
a week in Corsica after the marriage; and then I
took my temporary leave, — promising to return
thither again shortly. It now wanted but about a
^fortnight to the trial of Mr. Lanover and Mr.
Dorchester at Florence ; and according to the de-
sire expressed in the Count of Livorno's letter to

296

JOSEPH WriiMOT; OB, THE MEM0IH3 OP A MAJf • SBEVANT.

me, I resolved to be present on the oceasioo. I
took an affectionate leave of my friends at the
mansion near Ajaccio ; and embarked once more in
the eteamer for Civita Vecchia.

his pirate-vessel to a Eoman seaport. As no act
of piracy had been perpetrated towards any vessels
sailing under the Eoman flag, the Count gave me
every hope that the object I sought would be easy
of attainment. I had brought letters from Signer
Portici to the Eoman Minister of Justice ; and
these I proceeded to deliver — the Count under-
taking to introduce me to the Cardinal holding
that Ministerial office. I was well received by that
high functionary, who promised to use his interest
with the Chief Minister on the point which I had
at ieart. The Count then took me to the Car-
dinal Gravina's palace ; and here again I was
warmly received.

On the following day the bridal took place.

Does the reader recollect the description which I

gave of the Lady Antonia's beauty ? If not, let

him refer to the concluding passage of the hundred

and I learned that they had taken their departure I and second chapter of these memoirs. I may now

CHAPTEE CXL.

ANOTHEE BEIDAX AND AITOTHER TEIAI..

My object was to proceed first of all to Eome : for
1 bad plenty of time on my hands previous to the
trial taking place at Florence. On arriving at
Civita Vecchia, I inquired at the hotel relative to
my friends Mr. Clackmannan and Mr. Saltcoats,
whom I had left there about a month previously ;

few days after I myself left :— but it was not
exactly remembered in which direction they Lad
proceeded, though it was believed for Tuscany. I
therefore thought that it was very probable I
might soon fall in with them again, i only re-
maiued for a few hours at Civita Vecchia — where
I had undertaken to make the necessary arrange-
ments for the sale of the judge's villa, furniture,
and carriage — and whence I was to despatch to
Ajaccio the servants who had remained at that
dwelling. Having given the requisite instructions
to a man of business relative to the property, and
having fulfiled my promises in respect to the ser-
vants, I proceeded to Eome.

Beaching the Eternal City late in the evening,
I postponed until the following morning the visits
that I had to pay. My first call was then made at
the Tivoli Palace, — where I found the Count, the
Viscount, Antonia, and Avellino. The welcome I
experienced was a most cordial one ; and the
happy Francesco Avellino speedily took an oppor-
tunity of whispering to me aside that I had just
arrived at Eome in time, for that the morrow was
to behold him the husband of his much-loved An-
tonia. I now narrated everything that had oc-
curred to me since my departure from Eome about
six weeks back : for there was no necessity to ob-
serve the slightest secresy in respect to the affairs
of Constantine, inasmuch as they had already been
bruited abroad by the thousand tongues of rumour,
and the intelligence had been wafted upon the
wings of the newspaper-press. But still all those
circumstances which so closely and intimately re-
garded myself, had escaped such publicity ; and I
now detailed them to the ears of my friends. They
listened with the deepest interest ; and when I had
concluded, the Count of Tivoli said with a be-
nignant smile, " In whatsoever matters you are
mixed up, my dear Wilmot — dark and ominous
though they may appear for a time — yet does
your presence assuredly lead to a happy change
of fortune."

I comprehended that this was a kind, well-
meant, and delicate allusion to the happiness which
I had been instrumental in diffusing throughout
the Count de Tivoli's own domestic circle ; and
I was pleased to find that the part I had played
in this respect continued to be thus appreciated.

I invoked the aid of the Count of Tivoli towards
procuring the pardon of the Papal Court on behali
of the Count of Monte d'Oro, for having brough

\y of her ladyship as I so recently said of the Judge's
niece, that never did she seem so exquisitely beau-
tiful as when arrayed in the bridal garb. And the
bridegroom — the happy Francesco Avellino — how
handsome did he look on this occasion ! The wed-
ding was a sumptuous one, — many of the highest
and richest families of Eome being present.
Cardinal Gravina himself bestowed the nuptial
benediction: and a numerous crowd, gathered in
front of the church, saluted the young Count and
Countess of Avellino with enthusiastic acclamations.
A grand banquet took place at the Tivoli palace;
and I may without vanity assert that amongst the
numerous guests assembled, I was very far from
being the lease considered.

A few days after this happy event the Count of
Tivoli placed in my hands a sealed packet contain-
ing a full and complete pardon for whatsoever
offences Constantine Durazzo Eanaris, now Count
of Monte d'Oro, might at any time have committed
against the Eoman laws which specially regarded
piracy. I expressed my gratitude to the Count
for the interest he had taken in the matter; and
having now nothing more to keep me at Eome, I
took leave of all my friends there, and set out in
a post-chaise for Florence. As I passed by the
convent from which Antonia had escaped, all the
circumstances connected with that young la(}y were
vividly brought back to my mind. I looked back
with satisfaction on the part that I had performed
towards her; for I had now left her happy at
Eome, allied to him who had so long been the ob-
ject of her devoted love. "Within the space of a
fortnight I had been present at two bridals: — not
many months more were to elapse ere I was to
return to HeseUine Hall and know my own fate !
Would that return be soon after followed by a
bridal ? Oh ! if it were — if it were, what happi-
ness !— but if otherwise, what misery ! Tet very
fur was I from yielding to despondency on the
point— much less to despair. There was but one
incident in my life on which I could not retro-
spect with satisfaction; it was my youthful— I
may even call it my boyish amour with the un-
fortunate Lady Calanthe. Bat if this by any
means — through the malignity, perhaps, of Mr.
Lanover — should come to the knowledge of Sir
Matthew Heseltine, would he not be generous
enough to make allowances ? and would he not be
grateful enough to place it out of the question
when he should come to learn the services I had

been iDstrumental in rendering him, at the ban- I
ditti's tower in the Apennines and more recently
still at Leghorn ?

It was very late in the evening when I reached
Florence ; and my first inquiry was in respect to
the trial of Lanovcr and Dorchester. I learnt
that it would take place in a few days ; and I was
glad that I had thus arrived so timeously. I had
taken up my quarters at an hotel; for notwith-
standing the invitation conveyed in the Count of
Livomo's letter to me that I should make his
house my home, I did not think it proper to pro-
ceed thither in the first instance — especially as I
had reached Florence so late. But soon after
breakfast on the foliowicg morning, I proceeded
to the splendid mansion where the Count of
Livorno and his lovely Countess dwelt ; and I ex-
perienced the most cordial welcome. They both
chided me for not coming at once to their bouse ; and
the Count sent off a domestic to the hotel to fetch
90

my luggage. I learnt that Lord and Lady Eing.
wold had gone to England a few weeks previously ;
and on inquiring after the Count's elder brother,
the Marquis of Cassano, I was told that being
again in high favour with his uncle the Grand
Duke, the Marquis was now filling the post of
Tuscan Envoy at Vienna.

I had to repeat to the Count and Countess of
Livorno that narrative of my adventures which I
had so recently given to my friends in Eome. The
Count readily undertook to procure from the
Tuscan government a document similar to that
which I had obtained from the Papal Court : he
moreover wrote off that very day to his brother
the Marquis at Vienna, explaining all the circum-
stances of the Count of Monte d'Oro's case, and
desiring the favourable intervention of the Marquis
on his behalf with the Austrian Government. 1
, should observe that the affair of the Tyrol was by
no means generally known — the impression being

298

JOSEPH WITiMOT ; OB, THE MEMOIRS OV A MAN-8EEVANI.

that the Austrian frigate had foundered at sea.
Thus there was nothing on that point to prejudice
the Austrian Ministry's implacability against the
Count of Monte d'Oro.

I now endeavoured to ascertain what was the
deportment of Lanover in his prison ; and in fur-
therance of this object the Count of Livorno intro-
duced me to the governor of the gaol where the
humpback and Mr. Dorchester were confined. I
learnt that they were in separate cells ; for Lan-
over was most bitter against Dorchester for having,
as he termed it, so pusillanimously confess^ every
thing at Leghorn. Dorchester, it appeared, was
completely spirit-spoken : but Lanover maintained
a dogged, brutal euUenness. I further ascer-
tained that Lanover had written several letters
since Lis incarceration ; and notes had been taken
of the addresses to which they were sent. On
looking in the book where the memoranda were
entered, I perceived that the letters were to the
Earl of Eccleston, to Sir Matthew Heseltine, to
Mrs. Lanover, and to Miss Annabel Bentitick,
The one to the nobleman was directed to the man-
sion in London : those to the Baronet and the
ladies were addressed to Heseltine Hall. These
letters had been suffered to go to the post without
the inspection of their contents by the prison
authorities, inasmuch as black though the case was
against Lanover, he could nevertheless only be
treated as a criminal when the process of a trial
should have duly stamped him as such. That
Lanover had at length betrayed my secret relative
to Lady Calanthe, in the letters he had penned to
the Baronet and the ladies, I was indeed appre-

hensive unless, on the other hand, he had

boons to ask, and with the exquisite cunning of bis
disposition had abstained from anything disagree-
able or savouring of vindictiveness, so that by the
appearance of a grovelling contrition, he might
gain whatsoever point he was striving after.

The day of the trial dawned; and I accom-
panied the Count of Livorno to the tribunal. The
Court where the Judges sate was crowded to ex-
cess : for everything that regarded the late formid-
able band of Marco Uberti was still fraught with
a deep interest for the Florentines. 1 sate next
to the Count on a cushioned bench placed at the
end of the platform where the Judges themselves
sate ; and I quickly became the object of general
interest, as the rumour was whispered that I was
the young Englishman who had assisted the Count
of Livorno in taking Marco Uberti prisoner and
breaking up his formidable horde.

Shortly after the Judges had taken their seats
a side-door opened ; and amidst a guard of sbirri,
or police-officers, the two prisoners were led in.
Dorchester was fearfully changed : he looked a
miserable, broken-spirited, wretched old man : his
form, that he was wont to maintain erect, was
bowed ; and he seemed to quail shudderingly from
the contact of his hideous hunchbacked companion.
As for Lanover, — he was evidently careworn; but
his looks otherwise denoted that mood of dogged
sullenness which the governor of the gaol had de-
scribed. They were both placed in the dock, — the
sbirri standing behind them.

One glance only did Dorchester fling around the
Court : — for a single moment his looks encoun-
tered mine— and then his eyes were bent down.
It was different with Lanover. Armed with a

brazen effrontery, his hideous countenance scowled
with a dark malignity as he deliberately surveyed
the audience, the barristers, the jury, and the
Judges ; and then his horrible stare was fixed with
a still more bitter malignity upon myself. I
calmly averted my looks : I did not choose to gaze
in a manner which should have the appearance of
triumphing over the wretch in his downfall :
neither did I choose him to think that I was
abashed, cowed, or overawed by the fiend-like
glaring of his eyes. "When next I glanced to-
wards him, he was taking out a sheet of paper
and a pencil from his pocket, as if intent on
making memoranda of the proceedings. But of
what avail could this be for a man who was already
doomed by the blackness of the case to be brought
against him ? It was however one of the means
by which he doubtless endeavoured to assert the
bold hardihood and cool effrontery of his cha-
racter.

The Clerk of the Court read the indictment, —
which was to the effect that the two prisoners were
charged with having been at different times in
correspondence with Marco Uberti's outlawed
band. This accusation was general in its applica-
tion to them both. A separate count proceeded to
charge Dorchester with having, on his own con-
fession made at Leghorn, been in direct league
with the banditti; and having for this purpose
occupied a cave amidst the Apennines, that under
the pretence of warning travellers away from the
vicinage of Marco Uberti's tower, he might all the
more readily urge theui into the snare. Another
count in the indictment charged Lanover with
having by bribes, or promises of bribes, induced
Marco Uberti and his gang to carry off and im-
prison in their tower a certain English family tra-
velling at the time through the Tuscan States,
provided with Tuscan passports, and therefore
under the protection of the Tuscan laws. There
was a second indictment against the prisoners;
and this was also read. It accused them of having
devised means of inveigling and beguiling the
English family aforesaid into the hands of a gang
of Greek pirates. A special count in this indict-
ment charged Lanover with having himself been
on board the pirate-ship, which, under false colours,
or with a false semblance, had anchored within
the range of the Tuscan waters ; that this offence
came under the operation of the laws against
pirates ; and that therefore the said Lanover stood
accused of piracy in addition to the other offences
charged against him. The indictment concluded
by reciting the various statutes under which the
prisoners were brought to trial, and the penalties
which they enacted in case of guilt being proven.
These penalties were capital, though a certain dis-
cretionary power was left to the judge : — Lanover
and Dorchester were therefore, according to the
tenour of the indictments, about to take their trial
for life or death!

When these terrible announcements were made,
Dorchester sank down, crushed and overpowered
upon a seat : while Lanover flung upon him a look
of the most malignant hatred, scorn, and contempt.
Indeed it appeared for an instant as if the mis-
creant were about to spring at the unfortanate
wretch, and thus wreak his diabolic fury upon
him : but a police-officer instantaneously placed
himself between the tsvn, to prutept tiif inis'rilih'

JOSEPH WILMOT: OE, THE MEMOIKS OF A MAN-SERVANT.
. . ±

29t)

Dorchester from any sudden access of frenzied
rage which might seize upon the humpback.

The two indictments having been read, the pre-
siding Judge proceeded to what is termed the
interrogatory — that is to say, the questioning
of the prisoners. He first bade Dorchester stand
up and reply to the queries which he was about to
put to him : but observing that the unhappy man
was completely crushed by a sense of his awful
position, the Judge intimated that he might keep
his seat while undergoing the interrogatory.

" Prisoner," said the Judge, " do you confirm or
recant the confession which you made to the police-
authorities at Leghorn ?"

" I conlirm everything, may it please your Ex-
cellency," replied Dorchester, in a tremulous voice,
"I throw myself on the mercy of the Court; and
if it be possible that my miserable life can be spared,
even on the condition of immurement in a gaol for
the rest of my days "

" We will take all this into consideration pre-
sently," interrupted the presiding Judge. " You
confess that you were recently an accomplice of
Marco Uberti and his band ?"

" I confess it," answered Dorchester, still in a
voice which quivered and quaked with the influ-
ence of his miserable feelings.

" And you have also been employed," continued
the Judge, " by your fellow-prisoner Lanover for
the purpose of inveigling a certain English family
of distinction On board a pirate-ship ?"

" This is also true, your Excellency," responded
Dorchester : " every syllable of the confession which
I made at Leghorn is perfectly correct !"

I should observe that this portion of the inter-
rogatory took place in Italian, with which language
Dorchester was acquainted. But when Lanover
was about to be questioned, the proceedings were
conducted through the medium of an interpreter,
and now took place in French. First of all every-
thing that Dorchester had just said was explained
to Lanover J and terribly ferocious was the look
which he flung upon his accomplice.

" You have heard," said the Judge through the
medium of the interpreter, " what your fellow-
prisoner has just admitted. Do you choose to say
anything on your own part before the witnesses
are summoned ?"

Lanover maintained a dogged silence ; and the
Judge directed the case to proceed in the regular
manner.

I was now requested to stand up and be sworn :
I was not asked to enter the witness-box; — it was
Kufficient that I appeared in the companionship of
the Grand Duke's nephew the Count of Livorno,
in order to ensure the most distinguished treatment
on the part of the tribunal. I did not choose to
look towards Lanover : — as I have already si.id, I
would not be thought to triumph over him : but
at the same time I had a duty to perform — and I
was resolved to accomplish it firmly and '^aithfully.
I was asked, through the means of an inter-
preter, what information I could give in respect to
Lanover's connection with Marco Uberti and his
band. I at once proceeded to narrate all the de-
tails of my adventure with Mr. Lanover at Pistoja
a few months back, — how I had examined his
pocket-book — how I had found Philippo's letter
revealing the whole plot in respect to Sir Matthew
Hezeltine and the ladies— and how I had likewise

found the bank-bill which was intended for the
payment of Marco Ubecti's services. I then ex-
plained bow I repaired to the tower— gave the
bank-bill to Marco Uberti— and effected the de-
liverence of Sir Matthew Heseltine and his family
by representing myself as Lanover's agent specially
employed for that purpose. When I sate down,
the Count of Livorno rose and said that he was
enabled to corroborate the greater portion of the
statement which I had just made. I now hap-
pened to glance towards Lanover ; and I saw that
his countenance was white as a sheet, — looking
hideously ghastly with the effect of the feelings of
rage and despair that were tumultuously agita-
ting in his breast. But still he spoke not a word.

A police-ofiicer from Legliorn was the next wit-
ness examined ; and he stated the particulars of
the arrest of the two prisoners in that town,— also
corroborating the details of Dorchester's confession
as he had heard it at the time from this individual's
lips. The letter written in cipher, was produced:
Dorchester explained to the Court the key to the
unravelling of the epistle ; and its contents were
accordingly read aloud by the clerk of the tri-
bunal.

The Judge now asked Dorchester for what
reason Mr. Lanover had endeavoured to inveijjle
Sir Matthew Heseltine and the ladies on board
the pirate-vcssel : but the Count of Livorno ven-
tured to suggest that it would be inexpedient to
enter into an inquiry involving the private aflaira
of the Heseltine family. The Judge did not
therefore persevere in putting the question. No
counsel appeared for Dorchester, — the course which
he had adopted being tantamount to wliat in Eng-
land would be called " pleading guilty :" but a
barrister rose to address the Court on behalf of
Lanover.

This learned gentleman said that having been
from the very first acquainted with the fact of
Dorchester's confession, he had seen the inutility
of endeavouring to struggle against the weight of
evidence which would be brought forward in re-
spect to his own client — that therefore he had
abstained from cross-examining any of the wit-
nesses— he had contented himself by recommending
Lanover to remain completely silent and leave the
case in his (the counsel's) hands. It must be ad-
mitted (continued the learned gentleman) that the
two main facts of the indictment were fully
proven: namely, that Lanover had employed
Marco Uberti's agency for the arrest and tem-
porary imprisonment of the Heseltine family —
and that he also sought to inveigle that same
family on board a pirate-ship. But he (the
learned counsel) trusted the Court would view
these matters in their true light. According to
the rigid application of the law, any one who con-
nived with banditti — no matter for what purpose
— was held to be himself a bandit ; and he who
held correspondence with pirates, was himself a
pirate. That was the law : but in a moral point
of view the present case was quite different. Lan-
over had not connived with banditti for the sake
of plunder : nor had he connived with pirates for
the sake of piracy. He (the counsel) would admit,
that Lanover's object was no doubt coercion and
intimidation in respect to Su" Matthew Heseltine,
and with regard to family matters. Such conduct
could not be defended, much less justified: but

30O

JOSEPH WII/MOT; OB, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAW-SEETANT.

still it was widely distinct from purposes of direct
robbery and plunder. Bad as Lanover's behaviour
had been, he (the learned counsel) must neverthe-
less declare that it fell far short of those grave and
deeply serious oflfences for the punishment of which
the laws against brigands and pirates were in-
stituted. He therefore begged to invoke the
mercy of the Court on Lanover's behalf, — suggest-
ing that society would be sufficiently vindicated
and justice would be' satisfied if a lengthened
period of imprisonment were substituted for that
extreme penalty which, if the law were strictly
adhered to, might certainly be pronounced.

Tbe above is a mere outline of the barrister's
speech, — which the Count of Livorno whisperingly
assured me at the time was a most -able and in-
genious one. I glanced towards Lanover when
his legal advocate sate down ; and I saw that the
dogged rigidity of his countenance had somewhat
relaxed, and there was a slight gleam of hope
upon it. It was tolerably evident that he had not
anticipated the nature of the defence to be raised
on his behalf — or rather, I should say, the ex-
tenuating plea that was put forward : but the
interpreter who stood near him, had hastily whis-
pered a description of the prominent features of
that address.

The Judge now summed up to the jury. He
complimented the counsel for the defence on the
line of argument which he had chosen. As for
himself, he was perfectly willing to admit that it
was far from being altogether unreasonable : but
at the same time it had not the full force with
which the learned gentleman's eloquence had
sought to invest it.

" Let it be granted," continued the Judge, " that
Lanover connived not with the banditti for the
actual purpose of plundering the persons of that
English family : let it equally be granted that he
joined not the pirates for the sake of piracy on the
high seas. But still we have the fact before us
that he employed the agency of outlaws and cor-
sairs for the most unjustifiable purpose. Without
seeking to sift family matters, it is incontrovertible
that Lanover sought to intimidate and coerce Sir
Matthew Heseltine into doing something which of
his own free will he would not do. Suppose, for in-
stance, it was to obtain money — or a signature to
some particular deed— or a renunciation of some
right. It would be difficult for any just man
to persuade himself that either one of these objects
was not as nefarious as the direct purpose of vulgar
robbery. It is so in a legal point ; and in a moral
point of view the shade of guilt is well-nigh as
deep. In stating these as my opinions, I am
directing your attention, gentlemen of tbe jury, to
the legal view of the case principally : but I am
likewise affording you my sentiments on the moral
view. You have first to consider whether the
prisoner Lanover be guilty of the charges preferred
against him ; and if so, whether there be extenu-
ating circumstances. In respect to the other pri-
soner, you have only to return a verdict in accord-
ance with the confession which he himself has
made."

The jury did not deliberate many minutes before
their decision was given. It was a written one,
and to the following efi"ect : —

"We unanimously find the prisoner Lanover
guilty of the charges preferred against him : but

while considering that ho merits a severe punish-
ment, we recommend him to the mercy of the
Court for the reasons specified by his advocate in
the speech delivered on his behalf. We pronounce
the prisoner Dorchester guilty."

When this verdict had been read by the Clerk
of the Court, and duly interpreted to Lanover, a
profound silence reigned throughout the justice-hall
for upwards of a minute. Brief though the inter-
val were, it was one of awful solemnity. The
Judges then deliberated together : they spoke ia
whispers — and their decision was speedily arrived
at.

"Prisoners," said the Chief Judge, " I am about
to pronounce upon you the sentence of this tri-
fcunal. First with regard to you, Dorchester, —
the Court has taken into consideration the confes-
sion you have made, the contrition which you have
exhibited during your imprisonment, and the fact
that by giving your evidence you have materially
aided to bring your fellow-prisoner's guilt homo to
him in respect to his connexion with the pirates.
Therefore the extreme penalty of the law will not
be inflicted upon you: but inasmuch as your ac-
knowledged complicity with the brigands of the
Apennines merits a severe chastisement, the sen-
tence of the Court is that you be exposed in the
pillory for the space of two hours, and in some
public place — and that you be imprisoned in some
gaol or fortress for the remainder of your life."

Tbe wretched man gave a deep hollow groan,
and fell down senseless in the dock. Thence he
was conveyed forth by the sbirri; and when the
sensation attendant on this painful incident had
subsided, the Judge proceeeded to pass sentence on
the humpback.

"Prisoner," said the high functionary, "the
Court has taken into consideration the merciful
recommendation of the jury; and therefore the
extreme penalty of the law will be spared in your
case likewise. Your guilt however demands a
severe chastisement. It was not only an aged
gentleman whom you consigned to the power of
banditti, and whom you also sought to inveigle
into the hands of pirates — but your nefarious
machinations likewise included two inoffensive
ladies. The sentence of the Court is that you be
condemned to a period of twenty years' imprison-
ment in a gaol or fortress ; and may you during
your captivity repent of your misdeeds, and by
your demeanour testify this contrition."

One of the sbirri immediately laid his hand on
Lanover's shoulder, and hastened him out of the
dock. Thus terminated the trial ; and I need
hardly add that from motives of humanity I was
rejoiced that the extreme penalty of the law had
not been put in force against the prisoners.

CHAPTER CXLT.

THE PEISOir.

The proceedings of the tribunal had lasted until
about three o'clock in the afternoon : the Count
of Livorno was now compelled to repair to the
palace to pay his respects to his uncle the Grand
Duke; and I roamed by myself through the streets
of Florence, pondering on all that had occurred. I

JOSEPH WILMOT; OE, THE MEMOIRS OP A MAN-SERVANT.

301

was walking along in a profound reverie, when I
suddenly heard my name mentioned ; and the next
instant my hand was being violently shaken by
Mr. Saltcoats. Then the worthy Dominie like-
wise shook me by the hand; and producing his
snuffbox, he said, "It's just a pinch of Scotch :
but I don't know whether you like tobacco in this
form — I remember that you were always accus-
tomed to smoke a clay pipe."

" What nonsense, Dominie !" ejaculated Salt-
coats : " I'll be bound our friend Wilmot never
smoked a clay pipe in his life."

"It's just that," said Mr. Clackmannan: "but
Dickon Owlhead did; and therefore it comes to
precisely the same thing. And that reminds me
of what the Widow Glonbucket one day told me
when she was in the middle of frying sau-
sages "

" My dear Wilmot," interrupted Saltcoats,
" where have you been since we parted from you
at Civita Vecchia ? — where are you staying now ?
— and what has brought you to Florence ? We
ourselves have only just arrived — scarcely an hour
ago. We come from Leghorn. So we just had a
little bit of lunch — a couple of chickens and some
ham, a meat pie, a tart, and a few other nick-
nacks ; and now we are out for a stroll to get an
appetite for dinner."

" It's just that," said the Dominie : "but if the
cook at the hotel can't make us a dish of collops,
1 shall go back to Scotland to-morrow ; and
assuredly on my arrival in Edinburgh I should
take my old lodgings at the Widow Glenbucket's

■ only that she's dead, poor creature ! But

this reminds me pf a little anecdote it was

one day that the Widow was sousing a pig's
cheek "

" Come, you will dine with us, Wilmot," cried
Saltcoats, taking me by the arm. " By the bye,
we have just heard something about two English-
men who have been tried to-day^ Why, what

makes you start so ?"

At the instant Mr. Saltcoats put this rapidly
ejaculated question, I caught sight of a personage
hastening along on the opposite side of the street,
and whom I instantaneously recognised— although
he evi lently did not observe me ; for ho was ap-
parently pre-occupied with his own thoughts.
This was the Earl of Eccleston.

" That gentleman — or rather nobleman," I said,

— " I know him 1 should like to speak to

him "

" To be sure— Lord Eccleston!" said Saltcoats.
" He is staying at the same hotel as we are : his
carriage entered the court-yard almost at the very
same instant as the postchaiso which brought me
and the Dominie."

" It's just that," said the gentleman last alluded
to. " But I wish, my dear Saltcoats, you would
nut call me the Dominie. I am Mr. Clackmannan

of Clackmannanauchnish and if my predecessor

considered himself honoured by being called the
Great Donkey of Clackmannan "

"Why you must inherit all his titles, to be
sure !" vociferated Saltcoats; " and a jolly old fellow
you are into the bargain ! Wilmot is going to dine
with us ; and if he wants to speak to Lord Eccle-
ston, he can take the opportunity this evening."

" Did you observe," I asked, " whether his lord-
ship was travelling alone ?"

" He had a lady with hira," replied Saltcoats,
— " and a very handsome one too."

"It's just that," said the Dominie; "audit
puts me in mind of what I thought to myself one
day when I saw my friend Baillie Osvlhead walk-
ing with his grandmother up the Gallowgate.
The good old lady was ninety-seven "

" But as handsome, think you, as the Countess
of Eccleston ?" asked Saltcoats, with a merry laugh :
" for I have no doubt it was the Countess whom
we saw just now in the carriage with his lordship.
But come, Wilmot — you agree to dine with us?"

I was determined to have some conversation,
if possible, with the Earl of Eccleston; and I
thought it would bo more expedient to have the
appearance of meeting him by accident than to
visit him with an avowed and settled purpose. I
therefore accepted the invitation just given: but I
requested my friends to walk with me as far as
the Count of Livorno's mansion, so that I might
leave word there that I was going to pass the
evening at a particular hotel. We walked about
till six o'clock — every word that was spoken by
Saltcoats and myself reminding the Dominie of
something he had said, thought, or done at some
former period of his life. I asked my friends how
long they purposed to pursue their continental
tour ?— and I judged from their responses that
they would soon return to Scotland : for Mr. Salt-
coats at once assured me that he was longing for a
Finnan haddock, while the Dominie had a corre-
sponding yearning for a dish of collops, neither of
which luxuries could they procure for love or
money at any hotel in Italy. In respect to the
Earl of Eccleston, I felt tolerably well assured in
my own mind that he had come to Florence on
behalf of Mr. Lanover ; and I experienced a sort
of suspenseful awe, as if I were already touching
upon the threshold of some important revelations
which were to clear up the mysteries of the past.

At six o'clock we repaired to the hotel at which
my two Scotch friends had established their
quarters ; and notwithstanding the copious lun-
cheon of chicken, ham, pie, tart, and "other nick-
nacks," of which they had partaken so very re-
cently,— notwithstanding, too, their enormous
discontent at the absence of Finnan haddocks and
collops from all Italian bills of fare, — Mr. Saltcoats
and the Dominie did ample justice to the dinner
that was served up. We dined in the coffee-room :
but there was little chance, I fancied, of seeing
Lord Eccleston there; and I began to puzzle my
brains for the means of throwing myself in his
way without having the appearance of doing so.

I had left word at the Count of Livorno's man-
sion where I intended to dine ; and scarcely had
the dessert been placed upon the table, when one
of the Count's domestics entered the coftee-room,
bearing a note addressed to myself. The footman
whisperingly intimated to me that on account of
the quarter from which it had come, the Count
fancied it might be of importance, and he had
therefore sent it on to me at once. The lacquey
withdrew : I begged my friends to excuse me
while I read the letter; and on opening it, I be-
held the signature of Mr. Dorchester. The writing
indicated that tremulous indeed was the hand which
had guided the pen ; and the contents of the note,
though brief, were appealingly earnest. They
besought me to favour the writer with a visit on

the followiDg day, as he wished to speak to me on
s( ine matter of importance. The note indicated
the hours at which visitors might call according to
the prison -regulations; and I need hardly add that
my mind was at once made up to comply with the
request. But wliat could its object be ? —and was
it the initiative step towards tLe development of
those mysteries that for some years past had
seemed to hover likedark clouds around my destiny ?

I have said that Dorchester's note was delivered
to me shortly after the dessert was placed upon the
table at which I was dining with my two Scotch
friends. Not many minutes had elapsed after the
reception of the note, when the door of the coflee-
room opened, and the Earl of Eccleston made his
appearance. He held a letter in his hand — which
he gave to the waiter with some instructions ;
and I comprehended Italian just sufficiently to un-
derstand that his lordship was desiring the waiter
to d€spatch the note to its destination by the
hotel-porter. The Earl was about to quit the
room, when happening to glance towards our
table, he recognised me. I perceived in an instant
that a certain degree of trouble seized upon him,
and that an expression of annoyance passed over
his countenance : but quickly regaining his self-
possession, he hastened to accost me.

'' Mr. Wilmot," he said, taking me by the hand,
" I did not expect to find you here. I presume
that you are still travelling about for youi recrea-
tion ?"

" Not exactly, my lord," I answered : and then
fixing a significant look upon him, I added in a
lower tone, " You can scarcely be at a loss to con-
jecture the business which on this occasion has
brought me to Florence."

"Yes — I have heard that your evidence was

needed But would you favour me with a few

minutes' private conversation?" asked the Earl,
thus suddenly breaking off from the former por-
tion of his speech.

" Certainly," I responded : and then turning
to my two friends, I begged them to excuse me
for a brief space.

The Earl of Eccleston did not conduct me to
the private suite of apartments which be and the
Countess occupied in the hotel : but he desired the
waiter to show us to a room where we might con-
verse together for a few minutes. The waiter at
once complied ; and again was I alone with the
Earl of Eccleston. He now appeared to be at
first seized with embarrassment, as if scarcely
knowing how to open the private conversation
which he desired to have with me ; and I was re-
solved to wait for whatsoever he might have to
say. He looked at me anxiously, as if seeking to
judge by my looks whether there were anything
more in my mind than he had as yet fathomed :
but I maintained a demeanour which was out-
wardly calm, though inwardly I was much agi-
tated by a variety of conflicting thoughts.

"Are you staying at this hotel?" inquired his
lordship, at length breaking a silence which was
too awkward for him to maintain any longer.

" No," I answered : " I am staying with the
Count and Countess of Livorno— and I am here,
at this hotel, simply as the guest of those gentle-
men in whose company your lordship saw me."

" And do you purpose to make a long sojoui'U
in Florence?" inquired the Earl.

" It depends upon circumstances, my lord," I
rejoined.

'•' And those circumstances ?" he said, with a
perceptible anxiety in his tone.

" I cannot have the slightest hesitation," I an-
swered, "in explaining what they are, I have
received a note But here it is."

I produced Dorchester's letter: the Earl snatched
it from my hand with some degree of avidity ; and
as he hastily ran his eyes over its contents, I saw
that the colour left his cheeks, and for a few in-
stants he became exceedingly pale. Then he
seemed to reflect profoundly for nearly a minute ;
and at length he said, " Is there nothing else
which will detain you in Florence ?"

" Although I mightj as a matter of course, dis-
pute your authority thus to question me," I said, —
" especially as you asked me to accompany you
hither for the purpose of private conversation,
which I might naturiilly suppose was to assume
the shape of communications to be made, and not
of questions to be put — yet will I again satisfy
your curiosity. It is my purpose, Lord Eccleston,
to see Mr. Dorchester to-morrow — and also to see
Mr. Lanover to-morrow. For something tells me
that the time is now at hand when all those mys-
teries which have hitherto enveloped me, and
which have shrouded the principal circumstances
of my life, are to be cleared up. I have already
ascertained, beyond the possibility of doubt, that
Lanover is not my uncle, as he so often repre-
sented himself to be "

" Not your uncle, Joseph ?" — and the Earl
literally staggered as if stricken by a blow, when
I made this announcement.

" I mean what I say, my lord," I answered
firmly and emphatically : " Lanover is not my
uncle ! And I thank God for it. I should shudder
indeed at the idea of being so closely connected
with such a wretch. But it becomes all the more
interesting to me to discover wherefore he ever
played the part of a relative towards me — at
whoso instigation and for what purpose he made
his appearance in the first instance at Delmar
Manor to assert a kinsman's claim upon me and
to exercise a kinsman's authority over me.
Situated as he now is, I can scarcely suppose that
he has any longer an interest in concealing from
my knowledge those circumstances which led him
to perform the part of a tyrant and a persecutor

under the guise of a kinsman Unless indeed,

my lord," I added, bending upon the Earl a look
of mingled significancy and earnest appeal, " you
yourself consider that the time has now come
when your hand may lift the veil ? For that you
can lilt it, there is no more doubt in my own mind
than thiit I am now standing in your presence."

The Earl listened to me with a sort of troubled
and anxious attention : once or twice his lips
wavered and he made a gesture as if about to in-
terrupt me— but he did not. When I had finished
speaking, he slowly turned aside — bent over the
mautel-piece, with his hand supporting his head — ■
and remained for two or three minutes thus buried
in profound thought. At length he raised bis
countenance ; and looking towards me, said in a
low tone, " How learnt you the intelligence which

you have just imparted? 1 mean, what reason

have you for supposing that Lanover is not really
your uncle ?"

JOSEPH WrLMOTsOE THE MEWOTRS OV A MA?f-8EBVAlTT

803

" I have tlie best possible reason, my lord," I
tiiswered. " From bis owu lips was the intelli-
gence wafted to my ear."

" What ! Lauover told you that ?" gasped forth
the Earl : and I could perceive that the words
were almost unconsciously spoken, though uttered
with such an effort j and I was also satisfied that
the nobleman was endeavouring with all his might
to prevent the betrayal of whatsoever feelings were
agitating in his breast.

" I will deal frankly with you, my lord," I said,
" in the hope that my conduct may be rewarded
with an equal candour, ilr. Lanover knew not at
the time that I overheard the assurance which he
gave to another, to the effect that I was not his
nephew : and therefore it is indisputably stamped
with truth."

" Well, Mr. Wilmot," said the Earl, suddenly
drawing himself up, as if having totally regained
his firmness and his self-possession, " these are,
after all, matters which do not regard me "

" Which do not regard you ?" I exclaimed.
" Then wherefore seek to penetrate into my
affaii's ? — why bring me hither for a private inter-
view ? — why express a wish for a few minutes'
conversation.'' In a word, my lord, why hear with
emotion — I may even say with vexation and an-
noyance— my knowledge of the fact that Lan-
over is not my uncle ? Think you not that there
are many, many circumstances which dwell in my
memory, and which often and often make me
think of your lordship ■"

" I will see you to-morrow, Wilmot," inter-
rupted the Earl hastily : " I will see you to-
morrow 1 will write to you at the Count of

Livorno's to make an appointment."

Thus speaking, the Earl of Eccleston wrung my
hand and hastened from the apartment. I re-
mained there for a few minutes to reflect upon
what had passed, and then I slowly retraced my way
to the coffee-room, where I had left Air. Saltcoats
and Dominie Clackmannan. I did not however
remain much longer in their company : Saltcoats
noticed that I was pensive and pre-occupied — I
pleaded indisposition, and took my leave early of
my two Scotch friends. As I have already said, I
firmly believed that I was standing upon the
threshold of incidents gravely important to my-
self: I was therefore full of suspense— I felt
nervous and restless. I roamed about the streets
of Florence after quitting the hotel : I had no in-
clination to return immediately to the Count's
mansion and seek my bed-chamber. Many and
varied were the reflections and conjectures now
passing through my mind ; and especially did I
wonder what course the Earl intended to adopt on
the morrow at the promised interview — or whether
he would even keep his word by sending for me at
all?

It was now about half-past ten o'clock at night;
more than an hour had elapsed since I left the
hotel — I began to feel wearied, and therefore re-
solved to return to the hospitable habitation where
I had taken up my quarters. I had wandered
about in such a thoughtful mood as scarcely to
notice the direction 1 had been taking ; and I
now found that my wayward steps had uncon-
sciously brought me into the very street where the
prison was situated, in which Lanuver and Dor-
chester were confined. I passed by the gloomy wall,

— thinking to myself that wretched indeed must
be the mental condition of those two men who by
their crimes had thus brought themselves to such
pain and ignominy I was slowly turning the
angle of the building, — when the gate, which was
in the street I was now entering, closed with a
heavy din, and some one hastily descended the
flight of steps. This person sped past me without
taking the slightest notice of my presence there :
but I instantaneously r<'Cognised the Earl of
Eccleston.

I was riveted to the spot with astonishment, and
likewise with a suddenly smiting suspicion tliat his
visit to that gaol had not been in accordance with
my own hopes or interests. It was not till he
had disappeared from my view in the obscurity of
the long narrow- street, that I thought of hasten-
ing after him: but I did not succeed in overtaking
his lordship. I was almost inclined to return to
the hotel and demand another interview with him:
but I reflected that the jjour was too late for such
a purpose;— and I therefore took my way to the
Count of Livorno's mansion.

On the following day, at eleven in the forenoon,
I rang the bell of the prison entrance, and re-
quested to see Mr. Dorchester. The turnkey who
answered my summous, at once conducted me to a
cell, in which I found the object of my visit. He
had no irons on his limbs — but he wore a felon's
garb ; and he was lying outside bis pallet, with
the appearance of one whose physical constitution
was destroyed, and who was weighed down by a
sense of languor and weakness that would soon
merge into complete prostration, to be speedily
followed by deatli. Oa the other hand, his look
was far less dejected and careworn than when I
had seen him in the court on the previous day : it
struck nie too that there was not merely the gleam
of some sinister hope in his eyes, but even a
flickering-up of that effrontery which he had at
one time so well known how to assume. The in-
stant I thus beheld him, the misgiving already
existing in my mind was strengthened ; and I
thought to myself, " The Eatl has been with you
— and he has succeeded in changing, or at least
weakening the purpose you entertained towards me
when you penned that note!"

Eaising himself up to a sitting posture, Dor-
chester motioned towards a bench ; and as I sate
down, I was still more completely convinced by his
manner that the sense of contrition had been
weakened in his mind. Without however betray-
ing any feelitig of disappointment, I said, '•' You
wrote to me, Mr. Dorchester — and I am «ome
according to your request."

"I was very nervous and excited yesterday, Mr.
Wilmot," he answered distantly and coldly ; " and
I took a step which was inconsiderate enough,
and which in reality could lead to no conse-
quence's "

" Mr. Dorchester," I interrupted him, " you
will pardou me for saying that this is equivocation
or prevarication on your part. Surely, surely
your experiences have been bitter enough to pre-
vent you from recurring to a system of duplicity
and deception which can no longer benefit you.
That you have something important to communi-
cate, 1 feel convinced !"

" Be convinced therefore, if you will !" said the
prisoner curtly : " but at all events, if I ever had

304

JOSEPH WITiMOT; OR, THB MEM0IB3 OF A MAN- SEEVANT.

anything of importance to tell you, I have changed
my mind."

" Do you not reflect, Mr. Dorchester," I asked,
in a voice of gentle remonstrance — for I was de-
termined not to afford him an excuse for coming
to an open rupture with me after the letter he had
written, — " do you not reflect that more than once
you have wrought me the most serious mischief

at Oldham — 'n Paris— and last of all in the

Apennines — on which occasion my life narrowly
escaped becoming sacrificed to the vindictive rage
of the banditti ? — and do you not owe me some
little atonement ? I am not here to reproach you :
on the contrary, I will cheerfully forgive you all

the past and perhaps, too, I may even become

the means of serving you. To-morrow," I added,
"you will be exposed under the most ignominious
circumstances to the public gaze : but if you will
only now fulfil the promise contained in your
letter, I pledge myself to exert all the interest I
may possess with the Count of Livorno to obtain
from the Minister of the Interior a remission of
that part of the sentence."

Scarcely had I thus spoken, when the door
opened, and the governor of the prison made his
appearance. Dorchester stood up with an air of
the most servile respect ; and the governor bowed
to me — for I had been previously introduced to
him by the Count of Livorno, immediately after
my arrival in Florence, when I sought information
relative to the demeanour observed by the hump-
back and Dorchester in the prison. The governor,
addressing himself to Dorchester, spoke for a few
minutes in an impressive tone ; and as it was in
the Italian language, I could not altogether com-
prehend what he said : but I recognised the phrases
of " British Envoy," "Tuscan Minister of the In-
terior," and "Earl of Eccleston." I saw likewise
that the communication afforded Dorchester the
utmost satisfaction : for the tears ran down his
cheeks as he took the governor's hand and pressed
it between both his own for nearly a minute: —
though whether all this display of feeling were
wholly genuine or whether it were partially as-
sumed with the revival of the man's powers of dis-
simulation, I was really at a loss to tell. The
governor again bowed to me, and quitted the
vaulted chamber— closing the massive door behind
him.

•'•Your offer of exerting your interest with
the Count of Livorno on my behalf," said iJ r. Dor-
chester, " is now unnecessary : but at the same
time I must thank you for it. That portion of
my sentence to which you just now alluded, has
been remitted, through intercessions made in
another quarter."

"As a fellow-countryman — yes, aud as a fellow-
creature," I said, " I do unfeignedly rejoice that
you have been spared this terrific ignominy, great
though your misdeeds have been ! You must not
for an instant suppose that I came hither to
triumph over you in your downfall : — you have
never found me vindictive. But I beseech you,
Mr. Dorchester, to carry out the intention which
you entertained when writing that billet last even-
ing "

" I really do not wish to lehow any bad feeling
towards you, Mr. Wilmot," said Dorchester: "on
the contrary — perhaps your proffered forgiveness
of the past is not quite so indifferent to mo as you

may fancy. But I have nothing more to say.
Whatsoever feeling or motive instigated me ia
penning the note last evening, has now ceased to
exist J and I beseech you not to persist in arguing
with me— for I am very, very ill."

" And it is because this illness of jour's should
warn you, Mr. Dorchester," I said, " that death
cannot be very far distant, — it is for this very
reason, I repeat, that you ought to endeavour
to make your peace fully with whomsoever you
may at any time have injured. And your own
conscience must tell you that on more occasions
than one, you have seriously injured me!"

" Mr. Wilmot, I beg that this interview may
terminate," said the prisoner, resuming a cold and
distant demeanour.

"Let it be so," I answered, rising from my
seat. " But think not that I am for an instant
deceived as to the motives which have rendered
you thus changeful. Last evening you fancied
that you could selfishly utilise the interest which I
possess with the Count of Livorno, in order to
procure a remission of a part of your sentence ;
and therefore you wrote that billet which in an
appealing strain sought an interview with me.
But afterwards the Earl of Eccleston visited you

Ah ! you see that I am no stranger to what

has occurred ?— and his lordship promised to do
all that you required on condition that you should
place the seal of silence upon your lips in respect
to the promise held out in your note to me. The
Earl has kept his word : he has lost no time — he
must have worked late last night, or very early
this morning, in order to render the interest
of the British Envoy at Florence available with
the Tuscan Minister of the Interior. And now
that you no longer need my services, you refuse to
make me the only atonement which it is in your
power to afford for the past ! I see that my
frankness with the Earl of Eccleston amounted to
an indiscretion: I was foolish — I was acting
against my own interests : but the evil is done I
It is in the duplicities, the perfidies, and the ma-
chinations of the evil-disposed that honest-minded
men gain their principal experiences."

Having thus spoken, I waited a few moments to
see if Mr. Dorchester would vouchsafe me any
reply, and likewise in the lingering hope that be
might be moved by the speech I had addressed to
him : but he said not a syllable— and I issued
from the cell. In the corridor I met the turnkey
lounging about : he bolted the door of Dorchester's
dungeon — and I asked if I might be permitted an
interview with Mr. Lanover.

" Not without the consent of the prisoner him*
self, sir," answered the official.

"Then have the goodness to see Mr. Lanover
upon the subject," I said, slipping a fee into the
turnkey's hand.

He forthwith entered a cell in the same passage,
and almost immediately reappeared with the inti-
mation that Mr. Lanover would see me. I was
thereupon ushered into the humpback's presence.
He rose up from the chair in which he was seated
at the time : he looked at me for an instant in a
way which made it impossible to conjecture what
was passing in his mind or how he felt towards
me. I experienced the hope that the sense of his
position had mitigated, if not altogether subdued
the vindictive ferocity of his disposition — until I

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OK, THE WEMOIBS OF A MAN-SEEVAKT

b05

..■§fevm!,aii(;&-^ Willi W:

perceived a dark sardonic look stealing over his coun-
tenance ; and as it expanded into a savage grin, he
said in the harshest tones of his jarring voice,
" Ah ! you are come to know whether I have kept
your secret relative to Lady Calanthc — or whether
1 have betrayed it ? Well then, I have betrayed
it. Sir Matthew, Mrs. Lauover, and Annabel
know all about it."

" I am not without the hope, Mr. Lanovcr," I
said, though in a trembling voice, for I had just
experienced a severe shock, " that my good con-
duct in all other respects will compensate for that
one fault of mine. I am sorry to perceive that
adversity has not rendered you more merciful to-
wards others. Still vindictive! — unhappy man!
what harm have I ever done you that you would
persecute me even unto the death ?"

" What harm have you done me ?" vociferated
Lanover, his horrible countenance livid with rage :
" what harm have you not done me ? Have you
91

not thwarted my plans ? have you not constantly
crossed my path F Did you do nothing to me at
Pistoja ? and was it not your ill-omened presence
which by some means or another — though I know
not rightly how— led to the failure of that Inst
project of mine in respect to the Athene? Du-
razzo was either a traitor or a fool — but perhaps
both : for be was all the while far too intimate
with you. And now, have you not appeared
against me in a court of justice ? have you not
given evidence against me ? did you not help to-
wards my condemnation ? And then, with a cool
impudence you ask what harm you ever did
me ?"

" Will you reflect, Mr. Lanover," I said, " that
if I have seemed to cross your path, it was not
I who placed myself in it. It was you who first
sought me under the false pretext of being my
kinsman "

" Ah ! I know that bv some means or another

306

JO?KPn WILMOT ; OR, THB iTEMOIBS OF A MAN-SKKYAJfT.

you have discovered that it was a pretext :" — and
the wretched humpback grinned at me fiercely,
chuckling horribly with his harsh jarring voice
at the same tirae.

" Then Lord Eccleston has been with yo« like-
wise !" I exclaimed ; " aud the work of deceit and
treachery is still progressing, though that of per-
secution bo over. Mr. Lanorer, I did venture to
entertain the slight hope that I should find you in
a better condition of mind. "When you think of
all you have ever meditated or done towards me,
you ought to shrink from the idea of your own
astounding wickedness ; and you ought also to be
amazed at the immensity of the forbearance which
I have shown you. How many times could I
have invoked the aid of the English law against
you !"

"Yes, yes," grinned and chuckled the hump-
back ; " but you loved Annabel, and for her sake
you would not injure me. Do you think I was
not secure and safe in that conviction ? As for
Lady Calanthe's secret, I kept it as long as it
suited my purpose, according to the compact which
you and I made some time ago : but the other day,
when I cared no longer what Sir ^Matthew Hezel-
tine might know in respect to myself, I wrote and
told him all your villany in that quarter."

It was with a fiendish pleasure that Mr. Lanover
reiterated this painful intelligence — for he saw that
I winced under it : but I exclaimed, " Yillany, sir ?
No ! I was not guilty of villany ! My conduct
was the indiscretion — the weakness — the folly of
an inexperienced boy. But enough of that ! I
regret that even for an instant I should have
sought to justify myself at the expense of the de-
ceased young lady's memory."

"Ifo doubt you are full of consideration in that
respect !" interjected Lanover ironically.

"I know not what advantage Lord Eccleston
can have promised you," I said, " in keeping the
veil of mystery hung over the past : but if ever
there were a moment, Mr. Lanover, when you ought
to relent towards me, it is now that you yourself
experience the pressure of misfortune's iron hand,
and that your conscience ought to seek to soothe
itself by performing an act of justice. I know
that there are mysteries enveloping me, — mysteries
which, judging by all the circumstances of my life
and by the conduct of others towards me, must be
of a very extraordinary character. That the day
will "Sooner or later come "

"IN'ever, Joseph — never!" ejaculated Lanover
with the most violent emphasis and the fiercest
expression of countenance. '•' If you could show
me ten thousand advantages in telling you all I
know, I would not do it — because I hate you !
For I tell you that you have crossed my path;
and since the day I first knew you all my schemes
have failed — all my projects have gone wrong.
I am doomed to imprisonment : but you shall be
doomed to the continued ignorance of that which
you would give half your life to know. Tell me,"
he demanded abruptly, " can you procure me a
full pardon ? have you interest sufficient with the
Count of Livorno to obtain that decree which
shall throw open these prison-doors ?"

" Xot for worlds would I make such an un-
reasonable request !" I exclaimed. " "What ! for
my own selfish purposes should I seek to obtain
the reversal of a sentence which has vindicated the

outraged laws of au entire cotninunity? Besides,
the Count of Livorno himself "

" You need say no more," interrupted Lin -ver,
with a scornful bitterness of tone and look. " I
full well anticipated wliat your answer would be.
Think you therefore that while you refuse to do that
which lies in your p wer, I will breathe a single
svUable which shall be a revelation to your ears .-
>^ot so. "Depart — leave me ! You find me in a
dungeon: but my spirit is still the same as you
ever knew it. And now begone !"

I waited not for another bidding to leave th?
wretch's presence, but I at once issued forth from
his cell, as much grieved and pained at the thought
that human nature could display so much ran-
corous wickedness, as at my ovvn utter failure
in making upon the man any impression con-
ducive to my views or interests. He had saiJ
that though immured in a dungeon, his spirit
was still the same. How true indeed were his
words ! He was a toad sealed up in a block of
marble, existing upon its own venom !

I walked away from the prison exceedingly
dejected. My worst apprehensions were in every
sense confirmed. From Dorchester I hai gleaned
nothing: Lanover was less than ever inclined to draw
aside the veil that covered the origin and sources,
the reason and the motives of nil those circum-
stances which so intimately concerned me : and
the only intelligence I had obtained was the con-
firmation of my fear that my secret in respect to
Lady Calanthe was betrayed. As I walked through
the streets, pondering gloomily upon all these
things, I experienced so sudden au indisposition
that I felt the necessity of entering a shop for the
purpose of sitting down. It happened to be a
chymist's establishment which I thus entered ;
and bethinking myself of the necessity for some
excuse, I asked for a bottle of soda-water. There
was a vertigo in my brain — a dizziness in my
vision ; and I did not therefore immediately re-
cognise a personage whom the chymist was serving
with something at the counter. But on hearing
my voice, he turned abruptly round; and then
I perceived that accident had thus thrown me in
the way of the Earl of Eecleston.

This circumstance quickly recalled me to my-
self: but the Earl had taken my hand before I
had an instant to deliberate how I should behave
towards him. Then he snatched up — with exceed-
ing precipitation, methought — a small bottle which
the chymist had that moment wrapped in paper ;
and he consigned it to his waistcoat-pocket. I
asked for the soda-water; and the beverage re-
freshed me considerably. The Earl remained in
the shop : I saw that he meant to wait until I left
in order to have some conversation with me ; and
I was anxious to know what explanation he would
give of his conduct in respect to Mr. Dorchester.

"We issued from the shop, and walked along the
street together, — a dead silence existing between
us for the first few minutes. At length the Earl
said, '•' You looked exceedingly ill and pale and
careworn when you entered the shop.'

'•'And no wonder, my lord," I answered: "for
I again find you enacting the part of a persecutor,
— that part which both yourself and the Countess
vowed should never more be performed towards
me !"

"What mean you, Joseph?" inquired the Earl,

JOSEPH WTLMOT; OE, THE MEMOIRS OP A MAN-3EEVAKT.

307

endeavouring to assumo a look of mlDgled depre-
cation and astonishment.

"I mean, my lord," I responded, "that you
took a most unworthy — I might even say a dis-
honourable and ungentlemanlike advantage of my
confidence towards you last evening. In all frank-
ness did I show you Dorchester's letter : I cer-
tainly hoped to inspire you with an equal degree
of candour towards myself;— but I have been
grossly deceived. You have bribed Dorchester to
silence : you have purposely put a seal upon his
lips in respect to whatsoever he originally intend
to reveal to my ears."

" Mr. Wilmot," said the Earl of Eccleston,
drawing himself up haughtily, " you allow your
tongue to use towards me a license which is far
from seemly or proper. Hitherto supposing you
to labour under a species of unfortunate mono-
maniac belief in respect to myself, I have dealt
kindly and considerately by you "

" My lord," I exclaimed vehemently, " this is
intolerable ! Do I not know that you have perse-
cuted me "

" Hush, Wilmot ! we must not collect a crowd
around us. Eemember," added the Earf, in a tone
of gentle entreaty, " that this is the open street.
But let us turn into this avenue : we can converse
more at our ease. I beg you to listen to me.
You have just accused me ol" having acted ungene-
rously and dishonourably towards you in respect
to the man Dorchester : but a few words of expla-
nation will prove how unreasonable you are.
Many years ago, when Dorchester was living in
respectability and affluence at Enfield, I was well
acquainted with him. You yourself have seen, by
that leaf in the register which you were some time
ago the means of placing in my band, that he
pronounced the nuptial benediction on myself and
her who is now Countess of Eccleston. Think
you therefore that I had not some little regard for
the unfortunate man "

" Regard for the man who, having for some
reason or another tampered with the sanctity of a
parish register, all but destroyed the proof of this
very marriage of your's for the colemnization of
which you appear to entertain such grateful feel-
ings towards him ! My lord, this is a piece of
sophistry "

" No, Wilmot," interrupted the Earl, " it may
be an eccentricity on my part : but it is nothing
more. In the presence of the dreadful calamities
which that man Dorchester has brought down upon
himself, I could afford to look lightly over the past
in respect to the register : I pitied him — I exerted
my interest on his behalf "

"But not before your lordship had read the
letter I showed you last night ! And how is it,"
I continued, " that it was only since you saw Dor-
chester that his mind altered in respect to myself ?
You must take me for an idiot, my lord, if you
suppose that I do not discern in this silence the
result of a compact between himself and you.
You saved him from the pillory — and he keeps a
secret which in some way affects yourself. Ah !
I could say much harsher things to you, my lord,
were it not that "

But I stopped short : for there was a tumult of
ineffable feelings swelling within my soul, and I
began to weep like a child. Fortunately theEarl had
conducted me into a secluded spot, so that no one

but himself beheld the agony of affliction which
thus seized upon me. He seemed frightened and
concerned: h3 besought me to calm myself: he
took my hand — and pressing it, he said, "Do not
give way to these foolish hallucinations, whatever
they are, which seem to be uppermost in your
brain. If you want a friend who will do anything
for you "

" I do not want a friend, my lord," I answered
in a low and tremulous voice : " but I want to dis-
cover you know what I mean the secrA

of my birth I"

" Mr. Wilmot," said the Earl, all in an instant
becoming coldly formal and haughtily reserved
again, " I cannot possibly submit to become the
object of these hallucinations. It is going much
too far !"

" Yet rest assured, my lord," I exclaimed, " the
mystery shall be one day cleared up ! It is a
frightful state of incertitude — it is a horrible con-
dition of suspense; and there are times when I
think of it that it almost drives me mad. My
happiness depends on the elucidation of this mys-
tery ; and my life has not been so criminal that
heaven will perpetuate my present misery ! There-
fore, my lord, despite all your strugglings and
battlings to sustain this mystery — despite all your
unwearied efforts to build up a wall of adamant
at the entrance of the maze into which I seek to
penetrate, the moment of your defeat must come
— and at an instant when perhaps both you and I
least expect it, heaven will furnish me the clue
whereby to enter into that labyrinth !"

With these words I hurried away ; and without
once reverting my looks, I sped onward until I
reached the Count of Livorno's mansion.

CHAPTER CXLII.

THE VIltA IN THE VALE OP AENO.

Ok arriving at the mansion, I inquired for tho
Count, and learnt that ho was in his library.
Thither I repaired — and explained to him every-
thing that had taken place. He was already well
acquainted with every incident of my life ; and I
had no secrets of whatsoever kind from him. In-
deed, as I have said on a former occasion, we had
discussed intimately and deliberately, when I was
last in Florence, all the mysteries which appeared
to hang around my destiny. He now reflected for
several minutes ; and I felt assured that whatso-
ever counsel he might give me would be salutary
and good.

" My dear young friend," he said, " I have no
doubt that in respect to Sir Matthew Heseltine,
he will pardon you your weakness with Lady
Calanthe Dundas. Human nature is fallible — and
chiefly so in the years of inexperienced youthfuU
ness. The man who conditionally promised you
his granddaughter, and sent you abroad that you
might enlarge the sphere of your mind, is in his
heart generous and magnanimous, and in hia
opinions liberal — no matter how great the eccen-
tricities which may seem to encrust and even con-
ceal his good qualities. Such a man is sure to
make allowances on your behalf; and therefore let

308

JOSEPH WTLMOT; OB, THB JTEMOIKS OF A HAN-SEEVANT.

not this subject be a source of trouble and annoy-
ance unto your thoughts."

" I view the character of Sir Matthesr Ileseltine
in exactly the same light," I said: "and therefore
I ntn full of hope on tlie point to which your lord-
ship hns been allmlinfr."

" Now, in respect to other topic?, Wilmot," con-
tinued the Count of Livorno, " it seems to me per-
I'cctly clear that both Dorchester and Lanover —
and especially the latter — have it in their power to
rauke you important revelations. That these re-
velations may affect the Earl of Eccleston, is to bo
more than conjectured : it is to my mind beyond
all possibility of doubt. Granting, therefore, that
such is the case, the Earl of Ecccleston will adopt
every possible means to prevent Lanover and Dor-
chester from making those revelations. Perhaps
he will promise them to intercede still farther in
their behalf with the Tuscan authorities; — but to
that I will put a stop. He is moreover certain to
remain here upon the watch to prevent you from
taking any effective steps to induce those men to
give you the information you require. What if
we were to meet stratagem with stratagem ? — what
if by your playing a certain part we mijrht ascer-
tain what his mode of action would be?"

" I will follow your lordship's counsel in all
things," I answered. " What is it that ycu would
suggest ?"

" Protend to take your departure from Florence,"
responded the Count of Livorno ; " and conduct
the proceeding in such a way that the Earl of Ec-
cleston may fancy you have abandoned in despair
any farther attempt to fathom these mysteries.
When once he deems himself secure, he may leave
Florence — he may cease to trouble himself with
the affairs of Lanover and Dorchester. Then will
be the time for us to act, — then, when we can im-
press the two criminals with the belief that they
are deserted by their noble patron, we may probably
succeed in turning their disappointment or their
rage to your advantage. We may hold out hopes,
which tbrougli my influence may be more or less
fulQUed; and we shall have got rid of him who
would frustrate our proceedings by his machina-
tions."

I expressed my satisfaction at the plan thus
proposed ; and the Count of Livorno continued in
the following manner : —

"There is a friend of mine who possesses a
beautiful little villa in one of the most pleasing
parts of the vale of Arno : it is about two miles
from Florence, situated on the bank of the river
and with delightful grounds attached. This friend
of mine is absent in France : there are but two or
three servants left in charge of the villa — and it is
completely at my disposal. Will you take up your
abode there for a few days or a few weeks, accord-
ing as circumstances may require ? The grounds
are extensive enough to afford you ample space
for exercise : they are surrounded by thick hedges
of evergreens — and you may completely conceal
yourself from the view of all passers-by. The
fidelity of the domestics can be relied upon : it will
be sufficient for me to intimate that it suits your
purpose to pass a brief interval in retirement
there, in order that my wishes shall be thoroughly
respected. The Countess and I will visit you
occasionally to while away an hour which would
Otherwise hang heavily upon your hands; and

everything shall be done to ensure your comfort.
The sooner you depart the better, as the Earl oi
Eccleston will be doubtless watching your proceed-
ings with the deepest anxiety in order that he may
know how to shape his own course."

I accepted the Count of Livorno's proposition
in every respect; and ho at once commanded his
horse to be gotten in readiness that he might ride
across to the villa and give the domestics the neces-
sary instructions. I then repaired to the hotel
where Mr. Clackmannan and Mr. Saltcoats were
staying, and where the Earl and Countess of
Eccleston had likewise taken up their quarters. I
found my two Scotch friends lounging together in
the gateway, and contemplating two or three
handsome equipages which were standing in front
of the hotel establishment. Just at the very in-
stant I joined the Dominie and Mr. Saltcoats,
I caught a glimpse of the Earl coming from a
side door in the gateway : but affecting not to
perceive him, I said loud enough for him to over,
hear me, " My dear friends, I have come to bid
you farewell : I leave Florence to-night or to-
morrow morning."

" Leave Florence ?" ejaculated Saltcoats. "Why,
I thought you meant to sojourn here for at least
another week or two."

" It's just that," said the Dominie, lazily talcing
a pinch of snuff; "ho is sick of the Italian
kitchen : he is longing forcollops, and Finnan had-
docks, and Preston Pans beer. And that puts me
in mind "

" ISTonsense, Dominie I" interrupted Saltcoats :
"Wilmot is not a Scotchman, and cares nothing
for all the Preston Pans beer that ever was
brewed. Something fresh has turned up—"

"It's just that," said the Dominie: " ho has
perhaps heard that the Widow Glenbuckct is not
really dead — and he is going off to see. And this
reminds me "

'• You must forgive mc, my friends," I said, " if
I have not very long to remain with you now : but
as it is most probable I shall leave Florence this
evening "

" And where are you going to ?" inquired Salt-
coats, quickly.

" I purpose to visit Vienna," was my answer :
then, as a glance showed me that the Earl of Ec-
cleston was loitering at a little distance without
the appearance of listening to what was being
said, though I felt assured that he was drinking in
every word — I added, " !My friend the Count of
Livorno will give me letters of recommendation to
his brother the Marquis of Cassano, who is the
Tuscan Envoy at the Court of Vienna, and with
whom I have already a slight acquaintance."

" Then if we come to Vienna," exclaimed Salt-
coats, " we shall be sure to find you out."

"It's just that," said the Dominie: " we can
send the bellman round — or we can put an adver-
tisement in the paper "

" Or what is better still," interjected Saltcoats,
" we can inquire for our friend Wilmot at the
Marquis of Cassano's. But why do you hurry off
like this P'

"I am disgusted with Florence !" I exclaimed,
as if speaking with passionate vehemence. " But,
no 1" I immediately added, " I ought not to say
that — I will qualify my observation by stating that
things have occurred here which render it unplea-

JOSEPH WILMOT; OR, THK MEMOIRS OV A MAW-SERVANT.

309

saut for ine to reiuain iu the Tuscan capital any
longer."

" It's just that," said the Dominie : and lazily
thrusting bis band into bis pocket— as I though
to take out his snuff-box— be drew forth his purse.
" I suppose, Wilmot," lie continued, " you are
afraid of a bailiff "

" Well, and it's quite natural," exclaimed Salt-
coats, " for a young gentleman to outrun the con-
stable. Here, Dominie, let me manage this little
business : I have a roll of bank-notes in my
pocket-book that I don't know what to do with ;
and if Wilmot would only just take charge of
them for a twelvemonth or so, he would be doing
mo a service and saving me a world of anxiety and
trouble."

I was deeply affected by these instances of
generosity on the part of my well-meaning, simple-
minded friends : and I hastened to assure them
that pecuniary difEculties formed no part of the
motive^ which induced me to leave Florence.

'■■ Cnjithe contrary," I continued, " I have an
ample supply of ready money — far more than is
requisite for my wants. The affairs to which I
allude, are completely private. But my gratitule
is not the less vivid tovvards you, my friends, for
your kind intentions. And now farewell."

I wrung the hands of Dominie Clackmannan
and Mr. Saltcoats, and hastened away, — having all
the while affected to be unaware of the proximity
of the Earl of Eccleston. I returned to the Count
of Livorno's mansion, satisfied that accident had
enabled me to impress tlie Earl with the belief
that I was really about to leave Florence through
disgust at recent circumstances. Shortly after-
wards the Count of Livorno came back from his
visit to the villa, — where, as he assured me, every-
thing would be in readiness for my reception
whenever I thought fit to shift my quarters
thither. It was resolved that I sliould leave the
Count's mansion in the evening in his own travel-
ling-chariot, which might be kept at the villa
until the following morning, so as to create the
impression (in case the Earl should watch my
movements) that it had taken me a considerable
distance on my road from Florence.

It was about nine o'clock in the evening when
I took a temporary leave of the Count and Coun-
tess of Livorno, and ascended into the travelling-
chariot. As the equipage rolled out of the court-
yard of the Count's mansion, I caught a glimpse
of a cloaked individual standing a little way off,
on the opposite side of the street ; and by his
height my suspicion was confirmed that he was
the Earl of Eccleston. The chariot continued its
way through the city ; and when the outskirt was
reached and we entered upon the brcwd open road,
I looked anxiously from the window to see if we
were being followed by any other vehicle. But
we were not : and I therefore concluded that the
Earl had satisfied himself, by what be had seen,
as to the reality of my departure. The villa was
soon reached ; and I was received with the utmost
respect by the domestics who had charge of it.

It was not however until the following morning
that I was enabled fally to appreciate the beauty
of the spot on which my temporary home was
situated. The villa itself was entirely a modern
edifice, of light architecture, commodious, and ele-
gantly furnished. It stood at a distance of about

a hundred yards from the bank of the Arno — an
immense grass-plat, dotted with borders of flowers,
sloping gradually down to the water's edge. There
were delightful gardens and pleasure-grounds at-
tached to the villa, — the little estate being bordered
by a thick hedge of evergreens, as the Count of
Livorno had represented it. There were numerous
shady avenues, and gravel-walks embowered in
verdure ; so that it was easy to take plenty of
exercise, and enjoy all the beauties of those
grounds without being observed by any one pass-
ing on the outer side of the boundary-screen of
foliage. The front of the villa, as the reader will
understand, faced the Arno; and the grounds .be-
longing to the edifice formed a complete paral-
lelogram of an oblong form, about two hundred
yards wide and a quarter of a mile in length. On
the right hand of the grounds was another little
estate, with a picturesque villa in the midst, but
which was for the present untenanted. On the
left hand there was a large cemetery.

Start not, reader ! it was not a gloomy, mourn-
ful churchyard, with sombre yew- trees throwing
their dark shade over the graves, nor with the
tombstones gleaming white and ghastly through
the dusk of evening or the starlit glory of night.
It was a true Continental cemetery, — the resting-
places of the dead being marked with iron crosses,
some bronzed — some gilt. The scene was dotted
with mausoleums embowered in verdure : the
bright gravel walks meandered amongst parterres
of flowers ; and all the trees and shrubs appeared
to indicate that the taste of the projector had
selected those of the liveliest and tenderest green
instead of those of deep and sombre hues. This
cemetery undulated like a rolling landscape over
an extent of about three square miles; and on the
highest eminence in the midst a picturesque chapel
was situated. I should observe that many, if not
most of the crosses were hung with garlands of
flowers and immortelles— those touching and grate-
ful tributes which an afiectionate piety pays in
foreign countries to the loved and perished ones.
The abodes of death were there devoid of gloom
and horror : they were cheerful, interesting, and
picturesque : they seemed almost emblematical of
the brighter worlds to which the good had passed
away from this one which is too oft so sad and
dreary for the oppressed spirit of the living.

Yes — it was a cheerful scene ; and therefore,
when I found that the old housekeeper in charge
of the villa had assigned to me abed-chamber whiwtx
had a bow-window on the left side of the edifice,
and looking straight over the hedge towards the
gently undulating landscapes of the cemetery, I
felt by no means inclined to contradict her as she
assured me that it was the most pleasant sleeping-
apartment in the whole house : nor did I for a
single instant hesitate to occupy it.

I found a good library at the villa, — containing
many French and English works, besides Italian
ones; and there was a small gallery of good paint-
ings : — for what well-appointed house in Italy is
without some masterpieces of the kind, or at least
excellent copies of them ? I did not therefore
entertain any apprehension of being dull, through
want of occupation, during my sojourn at the villa
— unless indeed my own thoughts should lead to
dejection in consequence of the very motive which
had induced me to fix my temporary abode at that

310

JOSEPH WTLMOT ; OB, THB irEMOIEg OP A MAK-SERVANT.

place. But I resolved in my own mind to combat
as much as possible against any such feelings, and
to resign myself to the course of events as it might
be ordained by Providence that my destiny should
be fulfilled. There were beautiful conservatories
in the garden, — some having superb vines which
produced grapes of an incredible size — and others
being filled with choice plants and rare exotics —
for although the Italian climate is in general
respects so favourable to such productions, yet
may they also be forced, as in more northern
countries, to a degree of perfection proportionately
greater thfta if lefc in their natural state. The
Arno meandered through the immense vale to
which it gives its name, and which was every-
where dotted with buildings — chiefly neat villas
and noble suburban residences — with the exception
of the space occupied by the cemetery which I have
already described.

In the evening of the second day after my arri-
val at the villa, the Count and Countess of Livorno
arrived in their carriage to pass an hour with me ;
and I learnt two pieces of intelligence. The first
was the Earl of Eccleston was still in Florence :
the second was that Mr. Lanover had already
begun to suffer very much from the effects of
imprisonment, as he had been attacked with in-
disposition. I was much alarmed on hearing this
latter announcement; for I thought that if Mr.
Lanover should die without making any revelation
of past mysteries, one great chance of my ever
being enabled to fathom them would be annihi-
lated. The Count of Livorno however informed me
that from all he had learnt there was nothing
serious to be apprehended from the humpback's
illness; and his lordship promised to make frequent
inquiries in^ private and indirect manner relative
to the progress of the malady. The Count and his
amiable wife took their leave of me ; and when
they had departed, the villa for the first time
appeared lonely even to gloominess.

On the following day I roamed for hours about
the grounds, — being unable to settle my mind to
the perusal of the books which at any other
period, and under any other circumstances, I
should have so greedily studied. I experienced a
nervous restlessness, — that kind of feeling which
appears to be a presentiment of something un-
pleasant about to happen. I felt assured that if
circumstances rendered it expedient for me to
remain for several weeks at my present abode, I
should scarcely be enabled to make up my mind to
such a necessity. That day passed : the Count of
Livorno did not make his appearance; and I en-
deavoured to persuade myself that Lanover must
be better, on the strength of the old adage " that
no news are good news."

I was just sitting down to breakfast on the
following morning at nine o'clock, when I per-
ceived the Count of Livorno on horseback entering
the grounds. I was at once smitten with the
certainty that something had happened; and I
hastened forth to meet him. He came unattended
by any domestic of his own; and therefore the
man-servant belonging to the villa hastened out to
take charge of the horse. The Count did not
choose to say a word before that domestic, — not
knowing how far the man might be acquainted
with other languages besides his own; and, there-
fore, full of torturing suspense for me were the few

minutes that elapsed ere the Count and I were alone
together in the breakfast-parlour. His lordship'a
face wore a grave expression ; and my apprehension
was consequently strengthened to the effect that
something very serious had occurred. Indeed the
conviction was deep in my mind that Lanover had"
ceased to exist.

" I see that you anticipate the intelligence that
I have to impart," said the Count of Livorno.
'■ Lanover expired during the past night — or
rather, at an early hour this morning."

"Then all my hopes in that quarter are de-
stroyed," I said, with a profound mournfulnesg.
" And yet perhaps," I eagerly exclaimed, as a
thought flashed in unto my brain, " he may have
repented in his last moments — he may have
made some confession, or left some papers behind
him ?"

" Ho, my dear Wilmot," responded the Count
of Livorno : " you cannot buoy yourself up with
that hope. The governor of the prison, tojvhom
I had given certain private instructions, (fRne to
me about an hour back, and afforded me full par-
ticulars of the humpback's illness and death. As
I had previously told you, he was seized with in-
disposition the day before yesterday ; and the
prison-surgeon expressed his opinion that it was
caused by the excitement of the trial and by the
horror of a life-long incarceration. Yesterday
Lanover appeared to get better; and from the in-
telligence which I received, I was very far from
apprehending a fatal result. But it appears that
in the middle of last night, the turnkey who was
ordered to enter his cell frequently, found him so
much worse that he hastened to summon the sur-
geon. Lanover sank rapidly — his last hours were
spent in utter unconsciousness — and between four
and five o'clock this morning he breathed his last."

" Do you think, my dear Count," I inquired in
horror and haste, as a sudden recollection arose in
my mind, " that the wretched man could have
perished by suicide ?"

" ]S'o— there is not the slightest ground for such
a suspicion," answered the Count of Livorno.
"The surgeon declared that Lanover's death had
arisen from natural causes which were easily ex-
plained. I know what was passing in your mind;
but it does not appear that the Earl of Eccleston
has revisited the prison since the evening when you
observed him issuing thence."

The reader will remember that when I had en-
tered the chymist's shop after my interview with
Dorchester and Lanover, I had again encountered
the Earl of Eccleston ; and on this occasion he was
purchasing something which he hastily concealed
about his person. I had mentioned the fact to the
Count of Livorno, and it was to this circumstance
that his lordship had just alluded.

" There is now scarcely any reason," I said, in a
tone of deep dejection, "for me to remain at this
villa ?"

'Does not Dorchester still live?" asked the
Count : " and is he not evidently acquainted with
something the revelation of which would be highly
important to your interests ? How know you to
what extent he may have been initiated in Lan-
over's secrets ? — or how can you estimate the value
of any clue which Dorchester might afford you to
the elucidation of all these mysteries in which the
Earl of Eccleston is undoubtedly mixed up ?"

JOSEPH WIIiirOT; OE, THE MEMOIRS 01' A MAN-SERTANT.

311

" Tlien you would advise me to remain here for
the present ?" I said.

" Unquestionably, my young friend !" responded
the Count of Livorno, "AYhen Lanover's funeral
is over, and when the Earl of Ecclrston shall have

left Florence, I will myself see Porehcster "

'■' Be it as you say, my dear Count," I exclaimed :
" I will follow your advice in ail things. "When
and whore will Lanover be interred ?"

" All interments take place, in this country,
within three days after death," replied the Count :
" but in respect to criminals dying in prison I be-
lieve that the interval between death and burial

is even shorter. The coincidence is strange "

"What coincidence ?" I asked.
" That you should have come to reside for a
period close by the very cemetery to which will
be consigned the remains of one who in his life-
time evidently exercised so strong an influence
over many of the circumstances of your own
career. The portion of the cemetery which joins
the grounds belonging to the villa," continued the
Count of Livorno, " is specially allotted for the in-
terment of those who die in the hospitals or the
prisons. The resting-places of the poor are not
however confounded with those of the criminal :
the two compartments are separated by a thick
hedge of evergreens ; and in that which is allotted
to the unfortunate dead, you may perceive a few
crosses which surviving relatives have by dint of
hard saving been enabled to place there. But in
the adjoining compartment no memorials of the
dead arc to be seen. There the criminal lie with-
out a sign to mark their resting-place. Their
names may survive in the country's annals of
crime : but in that peaceful cemetery they are con-
signed to oblivion. It is in the criminal compart-
ment of the vast burial-ground that the remains
of Lanover will be interred; and there they will
repose in a nameless grave."

"You spoke truly, my dear Count," I said,
" when you observed that the coincidence was a
singular one. From the window of my bed-
chamber may I mark the interment of that man
vrho has done me so much injury ; and when I lie
down to rest, there will only be an interval of two
or three hundred yards between my downy couch
and the cold damp bed in which the shrouded
slumberer will be laid 1 Yes— the coincidence is
strange !"

The Count of Livorno proceeded to observe that
lanover's death might probably produce upon the
mind of Dorchester an influence favourable to the
views which we entertained : and now that one
hope was completely destroyed, I clutched at the
other, — thus resigning myself to a continued
sojourn at the villa. The Count promised to re-
turn and see me shortly ; and he took his depar-
ture. Again, as on the preceding day, did I roam
restlessly about the garden ; and I could not shake
off a feeling of deep dejection which Lanover's
death had occasioned. Strange was it that by the
force of circumstances I should thus have to de-
plore the demise of a man whom I could not pos-
sibly love — who had been my bitter enemy — and
whom I should have cordially hated if my soul
were capable of so intense a feeling of malignity !

On the following morning, when I was engaged
in my toilet, I looked towards the cemetery, a
complete view of which was commanded by the

bow-window of my chamber ; and I perceived a
couple of men busily engaged in digging a grave.
They were pursuing their occupation in a corner
of that compartment which was specially appro-
priated for the interment of deceased criminals j
and I had no difficulty in conjecturing that this
was the grave intended for the recaption of the
remains of Lanover. It was in an angle formed
by two hedges of evergreens ; and a t-reo with
bright emerald foliage stood at the point where
the two hedges thus joined. The boughs of that
tree, so cheerful in its verdure, would therefore
hang over the grave of the vile humpback ; and
the birds would sing amongst the branches above
the last home of the criminal.

Such were the reflections which passed through
my mind, as for a few minutes I watched the pro-
ceedings of the grave-diggers from the window of
my chamber. I descended to the breakfast-
parlour : but the repast which was served up,
though consisting of delicacies well calculated to
tempt the appetite, was left almost untouched. I
went forth to walk in the grounds : but every half
hour — or perhaps oftener — I was impelled by au
irresistible curiosity to ascend to my chamber to
see if the obsequies of Lanover were as yet taking
place. It was about two in the afternoon when I
at length beheld that for which I had thus with so
morbid a feeling been looking out. First I caught
a glimpse of something white moving amidst tho
shrubs and evergreens in the distance: then as
the object drew nearer, I recognised the surplice
of the priest. He advanced in front of the cofSu,
which was borne upon the shoulders of four men;
and I need scarcely add there were no mourners.
I saw the little procession approach towards the
grave which had been hollowed in tho corner of
the criminal division of the cemetery ; and there it
halted. The service was not a long one; and I
watched the proceedings until I beheld the cofliQ
lowered into the grave, — when the priest hurried
off, and the sextons began hastily to throvr in the
soil.

'•' And such is the end of Lanover !" I said to
myself, as I descended into the garden to resume
my mournful, restless wanderings. " He who was
once a wealthy banker — one of the financial princes
of the city of London — has thus found a nameless
grave in a nook of the criminal compartment of a
foreign cemetery ! Heaven be thanked that he was
not the father of Annabel, as I at first believed
him to be ! — heaven be thanked likewise that acci-
dent revealed to me the important truth that ho
could claim no kinship with me I He has left not
behind him a single soul on the face of the earth
who will deplore his loss. Oh, it is shocking to
die thus ! — shocking to reflect that a fellow-creature
had so alienated every heart that none sorrows
for him when he is gone !"

It was with these and similar reflections that I
continued to roam about the gardens belonging to
the villa, until tbe dusk was closing in and it was
time to sit down to dinner. I had however scarcely
more appetite for that meal than I had experienced
for tbe breakfast in the morning ; and when it was
over I repaired to the library, where I endeavoured
to beguile my mind from its mournful refleetious.
In this I somewhat succeeded, as I chauced to
take up a book of a vivid and enthralling in-
terest.

312

JOSEPH WILirOT ; OB, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT.

CHAPTEE CXLIII.

THE CEMETEET IN THE VALE OP AENO.

It was a little after ten ia the evening that I
ascended to my bed-chamber; and I took the
Volume with me, that I might keep it by my bed-
side in case I should find myself unable at once to
woo the presence of slumber. On entering my
room, I experienced not the slightest inclination to
retire to rest : I accordingly sate down and read
for some time : and the interesting character of
the book made the interval pass rapidly enough. I
finished the perusal of the volume j and when I
laid it down, my watch informed me that it was
half-past eleven o'clock. As I was winding up the
watch, methought that the sounds of some equi-
page advancing from a distance reached my ears.
I listened : the rolling of wheels and the trampling
of horses' feet grew more and more audible: it was
impossible to mistake the nature of those sounds.
The idea struck me that something fresh had oc-
curred, and that the Count of Livorno was coming
to impart it. I drew aside the window-draperies
and looked forth: but how different was the night
from what several preceding nights had been ! The
darkness was intense : the pitchy blackness seemed
to hang like a funeral pall against the window : but
the advancing sounds grew more and more dis-
tinct. At length they suddenly ceased : and I felt
convinced that an equipage of some kind had
stopped at no great distance in the road — or rather
the shady lane which separated the grounds of the
villa from the cemetery.

"What could this mean ? The lauo terminated
on the bank of the Arno : there was no habitation
at which it could have stopped : there was no
apparent destination to which it could have been
bound, when coming along that lane, excepc the
villa where I dwelt. Perhaps some accident had
occurred ? Perhaps the axle-tree had broken ?
If so — and if it were the Count of Livorno who
was coming to me — a few minutes would suffice to
bring him to the villa on foot. But no : a quarter
of an hour passed — no one came— and no farther
Bounds indicated any movement on the part of the
equipage. It was evident that this equipage
had baited for some purpose :— and what could
that purpose be? It was natural enough that,
considering the state of my mind, I should be
irresistibly led to connect every circumstance with
myself, however vague and dim the actual reason
might appear for such association. 2v'everthe-
less it was so. I therefore remained at the win-
dow, though 1 could see nothing beyond the glass-
panes — yet with a strange and unaccountable
presentiment that by thus gazing in that direction
I should see something that would lead to the
gratification of the deep suspenseful curiosity which
I experienced.

Upwards of a quarter of an hour had I thus
been standing at that window, when 1 fancied thac
I beheld a light glimmering in the distance. It
appeared to be moving about, though in a very
limited circumference ; and at first I conjectured
that it must be a will-o'-the-wisp. But if so, a
second thought assured me that it would flit about
with eccentric wanderings, and presently disnppcar
altogether. It was not so in lespeet to the light

that I now beheld: it became stationary: my eyes
were riveted upon it — and I was now convincad
that it was no ignis fatuxis, but a lantern carried
by a human hand. All of a sudden it vanished :
and then the idea gradually stole into my mind
that the spot where I had seen it couid be at no
great distance from the place where Lanover
was buried, even if it were not that very place
itself.

Kesurrectionists ! Such was the horrible thought
that now smote me. Criminal tiiough Lanover
had been, my soul recoiled from the idea that his
remains should be thus desecrated. Even were he
a murderer in fact (as he once was in intention
with regard to myself,) his remains should be left
to repose tranquilly in their last home. iJy blood
boiled with indignation, while my imagination was
appalled with horror ; and snatching up the taper,
I hastened from the room. Eushing upstairs to
the storey where I knew the man-servant slept, I
knocked at his door, — purposing to take him with
me in order to prevent the final desecration of the
deceased one's grave. But no answer was given
to my summons ; and the housekeeper, thrusting
forth her head from another room, informed me
that the lacquey had gone to pass the evening with
his father in Florence— that she had given him
permission to sleep out for the night, on condition
that he would return early in the morning : and
she begged to know whether I was ill, or required
anything in which her ministratioas would suf-
fice?

I at once saw the inutility of alarming the house-
keeper and the other female servant, by stating
any suspicions in respect to the recently buried
criminal: I therefore made some excuse to satisfy
her mind — bade her good night — and descended the
stairs. I had a pair of rillc-pistols in my port-
mauleau: these 1 hastily charged— secured them
about my person — and noiselessly issued forth
from the house, taking with me the key of the
front door in order that I might be enabled to
return with the same degree of caution. In a
few moments I was in the lane which, as I have
before said, separated the grounds of the villa from
the long skirting hedge of evergreens which bor-
dered the cemetery.

K^otwithstanding the pitchy darkness of tho
night, I had no difficulty in finding the exact spot
whence diverged the hedge which separated the
compartment of the poor from that of the crimi-
naL I had sufficiently observed the arrangements
of the cemetery from my chamber-window to be
aware that the point whence the hedge thus diverged
at right-angles with the hedge skirting the lane,
was precisely opposite the side-gate opening from
the carriage-drive of the villa-grounds.

AVith as much caution as possible I forced for
myself a passage through tbe hedge separating the
lane from the cemetery; and then I found myself
— according to my intention— in that compartment
which was allotted to the poor. My eyes were
now getting accustomed to the darkness ; and I
could distinguish objects, though only dimly
visible, through the deep obscurity. I hastened
along by the side of the diverging hedge which
separated the pauper ground from the criminal
division of the cemetery; and as I drew nearer to
the spot where to the best of my conjecture 1 had
seen the light, I advanced with all suitable caution.

JOSEPH WILMOT; OB, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT.

313

My feet trode over a soft turf; and thus my steps
were noiseless. As 1 advanced my ear caught
the sound of men at v.'ork vrith their spades ; and
when a little farther on, methought that I heard
their voices speaking in low and hasty tones.

"Yes," I said to myself; "they are assuredly
resurrectionists— doubtless men of desperate cha-
racters ; and I am alone here to contend with
them !"

No habitation was near except the villa which I
had just left; and that only contained two feiiiales:
so that in case of emergency, vainly might I cry
out for succour !

This consideration made me stop short for a
moment— but only for a moment. Ashamed of
whtt I conceived to be cowardice on my part, I
CO tinued my way, — summoning all my fortitude
to my aid. I ielt convinced that a foul deed was
b ing dune — the sanctity of a grave was being
violated ; and though iutamous the character of '
92

the crimitial who lay buried there, I was resolved
that not even the remains of such an one should
become the prey of body-snatchers without an at-
tempt on my part to prevent the consummation
of the hideous act. But still it was important for
me CO proceed with caution, to ascertain how many
men there were present, and thus learn the odds
against which I had to contend. With my pistols
in readiness, in case of my proximity being sud-
denly detected, I continued to steal along the side
of the hedge.

At length, through the obscurity, I began to
distinguish a tree at a short; distance : it seemed
to shoot up from the hedge itself; and from the
previous observation made from my chamber-
window, I knew that this must be the tree a por-
tion of whose branches overhung the spot where
Lanover had been interred. And now too, as the
sounds of the grave-digging implements and of
the earth being thrown up were close by, not a

314

JOSEPH WILMOT; OB, THE MEMOIRS 01? A MAN^-SERTANT.

1

doubt (if I liad previously entertained any) re-
mained in my mind as to the particular grave
which was thus being violated. I crept onward —
and in a few moments stopped short beneath that
tree which overhung the angles of the pauper
ground and the criminal compartment.

The hedge did not reach higher than my breast ;
and therefore, when standing upright, I could
easily look completely over it. Two men were at
work in the grave, as I could tell by the way in
which the earth was thrown up : and there was a
third standing motionless at a little distance. This
last-mentioned individual appeared to be enveloped
in a long muffling cloak, so far as I could at first
distinguish through the deep obscurity which pre-
vailed. Scarcely bad I thus satisfied myself that
there were only three persons present at the work
of desecration — and just as I was about to spring
through the hedge at all risks, with my pistols in
my hand — the two men in the grave said some-
thing to each other j and one of them leapt out.
I paused to observe what was now to be done :
when the individual who had thus emerged from
the pit, suddenly opened a lantern, which sent
its light completely down into the grave. The
cloaked individual stepped forward and bent over
the grave, as if to ascertain how far the work
had progressed. Again was I on the very point
of darting forward — when a sudden movement of
the man who held the lantern threw the light
upon the countenance of that cloaked person.
Good heavens ! was it possible ? — the Earl of Ec-
cleston !

How it was that no ejaculation burst from my
lips — that no start convulsed my frame, I cannot
conjecture ; unless it were that I was suddenly
petrified, paralysed in every limb — struck motion-
less as a statue— transfixed to the spot in utter
astoundment. The lantern was darkened again :
I appeared to be awakened from a dream of stu-
pendous horror. But any doubt that began to
hover in my mind, was quickly dispelled : for the
cloaked individual said something in Italian, in a
quick impatient tone, to the two men. It was the
voice of the Earl of Eccleston!

I was bewildered how to act : horror sealed up
all the purposes of my soul. That this was no
ordinary case of body-snatching by mercenary
hands for the anatomist's uses, was now plainly
evident. Then what could it mean p of what tre-
mendous drama was I a witness ? A suspicion
flashed in unto my mind — a suspicion so wild and
startling that I thought I must at once renounce
it as impossible : but the next instant it came back
with greater strength — it established itself with
form, shape, and consistency in my mind :— I had
the deeply-seated presentiment that it would be
realized ! Half-appalled — yet at the same time
burning with the intensest curiosity — with an in-
terest so strangely thrilling that I can scarce de-
scribe it — and yet remaining motionless the while
— I continued to watch those proceedings which I
no longer thought of immediately interrupting.

The man who had issued forth from the grave,
took some implements from a basket which lay upon
<he ground J and these he handed to his companion
who remained in the pit. Then I heard the sounds
of the cofBn-lid being wrenched ofl"; and, Oh !
what a thrill of horror swept through me. But
still I continued motionless, gazing with my strain-

ing eyes over the hedge, — the deep black shade
which wr.s flung by the tree, completely concealing
me from those on the opposite side of that hedge.
But my brain was gi-owing d.zzy ; and I have
never since had a very clear recollection of how the
tenant of the coffin was drawn up. From the in-
stant that my ear caught those wrenching sounds,
until that when I beheld an ominous white object
lying on the soil heaped up by the side of the
grave, there is a misty interval, as if during that
period a dimness had come over my vision and I
had seen nothing distinctly. But all of a sudden
I regained the vivid keenness of my faculties; and
there I beheld the form of Lanover, in its winding-
sheet, by the side of that grave ! I did not cry
out — I did not move a limb, even so much as a
hair's breadth : a tremendous consternation rested
upon my soul : I was appalled— petrified with an
awful horror.

The Earl of Eccleston, who was now pacing im-
patiently to and fro, said something in a quick
tone to one of the men: and the lantern was in-
stantaneously opened again. First its light was
shed upon the features of the Earl himscU", as he
bent down over Lanover ; and I could perceive
that the nobleman's countenance wore a ghastly
and horrified expression, mingled with intensest
anxiety and suspense. Again he ejaculated some-
thing in an impatient voice, at the same time look-
ini^ around as if with his straining eyes he strove
to penetrate the citourajacent obscurity. Then an
ejaculation of satisfaction burst from his lips ; and
the next moment a fourth person, emerging from
the darkness, appeared upon the scene.

The Earl petulantly askei him what had made
him so long? — and the new-comer curtly replied
that he had missed his way. They spoke in Ita-
lian : but I understood just enough to catch the
meaning of the rapidly-put question and its answer.
I saw by the light of the lantern that the new-
comer was a young man, not above five or sis-and-
twenty years of age, and well-dressed. He in-
stantaneously set himself to do the work for which
he had came thither : he produced a sort of un-
folding pocket-book, in which numerous bright
objects glittered in the rays of the lantern : it was
a ease of surgical instruments — and this man was
evidently a surgeon.

The grave-clothes were stripped off the form of
the humpback : his countenance was now revealed
to me. It was of death-like whiteness — but serene
as if he were only sleeping : all the hideous and
harsh lines which that countenance possessed when
animated, were now softened and subdued by the
repose that was upon it. I saw the surgeon apply
a lancet to Lanover's arm — then take a bottle
from his pocket and pour some of its contents
down the humpback's throat, for which purpose
the mouth was forced violentiy open. A fellow,
creature was being resuscitated : — could I at that
instant rush forward to interfere with the work
that was in progress ? No, impossible !— and even
if I had possessed the inclination, I had not the
power ; for I was still held in statue-like immova-
bility by the awful interest which attached itself
unto this strange and fearful scene !

I beheld the blood slowly trickling down Lano-
ver's arm ; and in a few minutes he gave visible
signs of life. Oh! then I recollected the circum-
stance of Lord Eccleston having mado a purchase

JOSEPH WILMOT; OH, TKK MliMlOES OF A MAN-SiSRVANT.

315

at the chy mist's : and I at once naturally assoei-
ciated that incident with Lanover's trance — this
death-like trance from which he was being revived 1
Good heavens. I saw it all !— I comprehended every-
thing ! His alleged death was a fiction : but Oh !
to what a state of desperation must the man have
been either reduced or elevated — I know not which
term to use— in order that he should have con-
sented to pass through the hideous ordeal from
which he was now awakening !

Ah ! and never shall I forget how fearful was
the groan which slowly came forth from his lips,
as life began to struggle successfully over death,
and nature asserted her strength against tue power
of dissolution. It was a ^roan which methinks I
can hear now as I pen this description, — a groan
which was deep, hollow, and ghostly, as if coming
up from the caverned breast of a corpse itself !

But few words were exchanged between the
Earl of Eccleston and the surgeon, while the two
grave-diggers looked on in speechless astonishment.
Doubtless they must have very well known for
what purpose their services had been retained :
but still they could hardly believe their own eyes at
thus beholding the dead as it were brought to life.
But that groan— that long, deep, sepulchral groan
stole upon me with a sensation of such awful
horror that a dimness once more came over my
vision — my brain once more grew dizzy — and
though I moved not, nor fell down senseless, yet
was I like a somnambulist who had come to a full
stop in the midst of his fearful night-wanderings.
And thus for several minutes was I almost com-
pletely unconscious of the progress of the wild,
the wondrous, and the astounding drama, until I
slowly became aware that Lanover was being borne
away from the spot. Yes — the Etirl, the surgeon,
and one of the grave-diggers were bearing him off
amidst them, — his form enveloped in the cloak
which the nobleman himself had worn. The other
grave-digger continued on the spot, and began
rapidly to shovel back the earth. I was utterly
bewildered as to what course I should adopt— or
more correctly speaking, I had not-the power to
deliberate within myself. There was still a sense
of appalling consternation in my soul — of over-
whelming dismay, paralysing all my faculties.
Again have I but an indistinct idea of the interval
which followed upon my consciousness of the
bearing-away of the resuscitated Lanover. I know
not what impulse it was that made me creep
stealthily off from the vicinage of the grave :
but the next distinct recollection which I have
of the incidents of that stupendous night of
strangeness and wonder, is that I found myself
stealing along by the side of the hedge with to
same caution that I had exercised when first
making my way to the scene of that awful drama.
And then all of a sudden I was staitled by the
sounds of an equipage dashing rapidly away : and
then— Oh ! tJien 1 knew that it was too late for
me to take any step in the matter.

I stole back into the villa: the taper which I
had left in the hall was still burning : I entered
the dining-room— filled a tumbler with wine — and
drank the contents at a draught. I ascended to
my bed-chamber: but instead of undressing to
retire to rest, I sate down to think. I could
scarcely persuade myself that it was all a reality —
and not a fiction, as fantastic as it was horrible,

conjured up by my own imagination. Whaii \u>\v-
ever I could no longer doubt that it wds all a
reality, I began bitterly to blame myself for the
part I had enacted — or rather for my abstention
from enacting any positive part at all.

" Oh ! if I had rushed forward and surprised
the Earl of Eccleston in the midst of his pro-
ceedings— or Lanover at the very moment when
he was awakening to consciousness from that
terrific trance — I might have enforced such con-
fessions and revelations as it is so important for
me to learn ! But no ! Fool that I am ! Those
who had gone to such lengths would not have
hesitated to take my life in order to screen them-
selves! — and had I proclaimed my presence, I
might now be lying a corpse in that very grave
from which Lanover v/as disinterred !"

This idea was so full of horror that it effectually
put a stop to my self- vituperations ; and I now
thanked heaven that my conduct was such as it
had proved to be. I retired to rest ; and my mind
beinff exhausted with the powerful vicissitudes of
emotion and feeling througla which I had passed, I
sank off into a profound slumber.

To say that when I awoke in the morning, I
had again some diiB.culty in convincing myself that
it was not all a dream, would be to declare that
which the reader has already supposed. I had not
completed my toilet when I heard the sound of a
horse's hoofs approaching down the lane ; and I
looked forth from the window, which I had opened
for the purpose of letting in the fresh air to fan
my feverish temples. The Count of Livorno
entered the grounds : for ho was the horseman
whose advance I had thus heard. Before retiring
from the window, I looked across into the ceme-
tery : — I could scarcely believe that the spot ou
which the sun was now shining gloriously, could
but a few hours back have proved the scene of that
astounding drama which haunted my imagination
like a horrible fantastic vision.

I hastened down stairs; and on joining the
Count, I instantaneously perceived that he was
dismayed by my appearance. And no wonder !
— for my mirror had told me that I was as pale,
haggard, and careworn, as if only just recovering
from a long and severe illness.

" Good heavens, my dear Wilmot! what is the
matter with you ?" asked the Count of Livurno.

" First of all tell me," I said, " what has brought
you hither so early ?"

" The object of my visit is soon explained,"
responded the Count. "Last night the E irl of
Eccleston took his departure in his own travelling-
chariot; and at an early hour this morning the
Countess of Eccleston wont away in a post-cbaise.
There seems to be something singular in such
arrangements on their part : but nevertheless, the
Earl is gone— he has left Florence — of that you
may be certain."

" Yes," I said : and I felt that I had a strange
bewildered air— perhaps too with a wild vacancy
in my gaze, — " and I can account for all tliat
seems singular in those arrangements. Tue Earl
has gone — and Lanover has gone with him !"

The Count of Livorno started, and gazed upon
me as if he feared that I had become mad.

"I can assure you, my dear Count," I said,
"that I have not lost my senses — although it is
natural enough for you to fancy that I have-

316

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OE, THB MEMOIH B 01? A MAN-SEBVANT.

Listen — and I will tell you a tale which trans-
cends every thing ever imagined by the writer of
the wildest fictions."

I then proceeded to explain to the Count of
Livorno every thing that had taken place during
the past right ; and I need hardly say that he at
first listened to me with an expression of counte-
nance which showed that he was still far from
being satisfied that my brain was not turned. But
when he perceived the seriousness of my manner,
the consistency of my narrative, and the lucidity
— the painful lucidity with which I proceeded in
all the details, he could no longer doubt the truth
of the amazing history, nor question the sanity of.
him who was thus relating it. For several minutes
after I had concluded he sate speechless: — he him-
self experienced a consternation — a dismay — a
sense of horror almost as great as what I myself
had felt when witnessing the tremendous drama of
the past night.

" Now at least, my lord," I said, " there is no
necessity for me to remain any longer in this
Tilla ?"

" No, my dear friend," replied the Count. " It
appears to me that you have two things now to do
— and in both of which I will assist you to the
utmost of my power. The first is to see Dorches-
ter and ascertain how far we can influence his
mind : the second is to institute a search after the
Earl of Eccleston and Lanover — both, if they be
tO:jether — each if they be separate; and with the
knowledge of this astounding secret, some good
may possibly be effected. Ah ! and a thought
strikes me !" continued the Count of Livorno.
"From all that you have told me at different
times, it is evident that the Countess of Eccleston
is acquainted with her husband's secrets, and is no
stranger to the motives of his mysterious proceed-
ings in respect to yourself. If it were possible
for you to obtain an interview with her ladyship —
alone — and when she is not under her husband's
coercive influence — you might by the possession of
this wondrous, this awful secret of the cemetery, so
work upon her mind as to elicit all that you re-
quire to know."

I thanked the Count for his excellent advice;
and then I said to him, " But what in reference
to the incidents of last night ?"

"I think, Wilmot," answered his lordship,
" that I shall be best consulting your views and
interests by regarding all that drama as a pro-
found secret. Nevertheless, there is one course
which we might adopt," continued the Count
thoughtfully : " and this is to ascertain whether
the gaol-surgeon can give any additional particu-
lars that may be at all serviceable to us. You
say that the medical man who resuscitated Lan-
over last night, was tall and slender, about six-
and-twenty years of age "

"Yes— so far as I could judge amidst the horror
and amazement, the wonder and the suspecse,
which held me enthralled upon the spot."

We continued to deliberate some little while
longer ; and when the Count rose to take his de-
parture, I said to him, "Let us walk together into
the cemetery. The tale I have told you is so
astounding that there may still be more or less
incredulity fl^oating in your brain "

" Think you, my dear Joseph," interrupted the
Count, " that though I might have been incredu-

lous at first, yet that if I had not ended by be-
lieving you, I should have sate down to deliberate
thus seriously on the various courses which ought
to be pursued ?"

" To tell you the truth, my dear Count," I said,
" for my own satisfaction's sake I should like to
walk into the c ^metery. All the time that we
have been discussing these affairs, I have had a
sensation half-stupefying, half-bewildering, as if I
were speculating on the vague phases of a dream
— as if I were striving and straining to give shape
and substance to the mere shadowy outlines of a
vision ! Therefore it would be satisfactory to me
to assure myself that it was all a reality — to dis-
cover some signs of my midnight visit to that
cemetery — and likewise some evidences of the fact
that all I beheld was not the horrible phantasm of
somnambulism."

" For these reasons," said the Count, " and not
for any incredulity on my own part, we will visit
the cemetery."

We accordingly walked forth together ; and
first of all I distinguished what appeared to be the
break in the hedge where I had forced a passage
through into the pauper-ground. As we skirted
the diverging hedge, which separated this ground
from the criminal compartment adjoining, I could
discern many footprints upon the grass ; and these
exactly fitted my own steps. We reached the spot
where the tree of emerald verdure shadowed the
grave : but on looking over the hedge there was
not the slightest indication that the turf had been
disturbed. At this I felt somewhat staggered :
but the Count of Livorno at once said, "Best
assured, my dear Wilmot, that the sextons for
their own sake would not have quitted the spot
until they had restored its surface to its former
condition."

A short circuitous walk brought us into the
criminal division of the cemetery ; and we ap-
proached the place where I had beholden the tre-
mendous incidents of the past night. The turf
was all flat and uniform above the grave : but it
had recently been watered — for the damp now
showed itself upon our boots. The sun was
shining brightly; and as I contemplated the scene,
my eye caught a glimpse of something glittering
amongst the grass. 1 picked it up : it was a sur-
gical instrument.

" Ah !" I ejaculated : " this must have dropped
out of the medical man's pocket-case last night !
I am glad I have found it : — it is to my mind an
evidence that all 1 beheld was a reality !"

We walked away from the spot ; and crossing
the criminal division of the cemetery, we bent our
steps towards the gate by which it was entered
from the lane. Just as we reached that gate, we
perceived a gentleman advancing along the lane
for the direction of Florence.

"It is the surgeon!" said the Count quickly:
" this is most opportune ! Give me that instru-
ment. He speaks French 1 remember that he

does : for I have some little knowledge of him. I
will address him iu that language in order that
you may fully understand what passes."

The surgeon had been advancing with rapid
steps when first we caught sight of him : but on
perceiving us he slackened his pace— no doubt
with the hesitation of a guilty conscience, which
made him tremble to proceed lest he should e&-

JOSEPH WILMOT; OE, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT.

317

counter those who would accuse him of his com-
plicity in a nefarious transaction. But still he did
advance, and when near enough, the Count of
Livorno addressed him by name. He raised
his hat in respectful salutation of the Grand Duke's
nephew : but as he came a little nearer, it was
easy to perceive that there was the glitter of un-
easiness in his eyes and that he had not the air of
one who was comfortable in his mind.

CHAPTER CXLIV.

THE GAOL SUEGEON.

The Count of Livorno leant over the gate : I re-
mained standing close by — and the surgeon ap-
proached us.

" Your avocations, signor," said the Count,
" seem to permit you to enjoy the recreation of a
lengthy ramble?"

" Yes, my lord," was the response : and I saw
that the surgeon endeavoured to summon up all
his self-possession. "Although this be the resting-
place of the dead, the scenery is nevertheless cheer-
ful."

" And perhaps you are a frequent visitor to the
cemetery ?" said the Count, but with that careless
air of indifference which one would have when
speaking merely for a purpose of courtesy, and not
with any settled or deliberate aim.

Nevertheless the surgeon gave a visible start, as
if for a moment he felt — or rather fancied that
there was something significantly pointed in the
observation : but again recovering his self-posses-
sion, he said, " No, my lord — I do not often visit
this cemetery. And now, with your permission —
my time being somewhat short "

He laid his hand upon the fastening of the gate
for the purpose of opening it : but the Count of
Livorno did not draw back ; and still maintaining
his lounging attitude against the gate, he said,
" Perhaps, signor, if you are coming here for any
purpose, it is in my power to save you the trouble
of a further walk."

The medical man started even more perceptibly
and with a more sudden galvanic impulse than be-
fore : his looks travelled quickly from the noble-
man's countenance to mine; and then, with a
visible effort to recover his self-possessi in, he fal-
tered out, " What mean you, my lord ?"

" Simply," replied the Count, " that if you be
in search of anything which you have lost, I am
enabled to restore it. Behold !" — and he produced
the surgical instrument.

The face of the medical man became ghastly
white : he trembled from head to foot : he en-
deavoured to give utterance to something — but he
could not : his words were choked by the painful-
ness of his emotions.

" "We know all— everything!" said the Count of
Livorno, now quitting his lounging position and
drawing himself up to his full height, at the same
time that he spoke in a stern voice. " It is useless
for you to attempt a denial ! There was a witness
last night — a witness in the cemetery "

" Holy Virgin protect me !" groaned the wretched
man : and never shall I forget the look of mingled

horror and entreaty which he first bent upon the
Count, and then turned upon me.

" The way in which you will be dealt with," the
nobleman proceeded to observe, " depends upon
the answers you give to my questi ms. Beware
how you attempt to deceive me ! What was the
extent of the bribe that you received for your
iniquitous complicity in a proceeding which has
given liberty to a branded criminal ?"

The surgeon mentioned a sum which in Italian
money was about equivalent to two hundred and
fifty guineas of British currency. He appealed in
the most piteous terms for mercy : but the Count
cut him short by saying, " Yes — you shall have
mercy shown you, if you reveiil everything."

" I will tell your lordship all that I know,"
answered the surgeon : " I will frankly confess all
the details of my complicity. Your lordship is
aware that according to the prison regulations the
gaol-surgeon is bound to visit every captive at least
thrice a week. The Englishman Lanover, as well as
his accomphce Dorchester, was for some weeks an
inmate of the gaol before his trial. Oa those occa-
sions when according to my duty I visited Lanover,
it appeared to me that he was a coarse, rougb,
brutal man ; and as his disposition seemed so com-
pletely to assort with the hideousness of his exte-
rior, I conceived a deep aversion towards him. I
am now about to speak of the day of his condem-
nation to twenty years' imprisonment in a fortress.
I visited him in the evening— and to uiy surprise
found that he was all civility and courtesy. Ha
induced me to sit down and converse asvhile with
him : he questioned me relative to my salary, my
position, and my prospects. I do not know what
it was that led me to speak openly and frankly to
such a man : but thus it nevertheless was. I told
him that I was poor — thac I was married and had
a young family — and that the mere tact of being
surgeon to the gaol operated as a barrier against;
the extension of my practice outside the walls.
To be brief, my lord, Lanover dropped so.ne hint
which amounted to a temptation. I listened —
he grew plainer in his speech : his plan was de-
veloped. I was astounded at its boldness "

" But you fell into his views ?" said the Count of
Livorno. " Proceed."

" Lanover explained to me that there was an
English nobleman— the Earl of Eccieston — who
would go to any lengths to serve him. I ofFL'red
to do this much — that I would name a par-
ticular soporific which would produce a tranco-
like effoct for at least forty-eight hours : but I
refused to have anything to do with assisting at
the disinterment. Lanover would not listen to
this limitation of the part which I was to per-
form : he insisted that if I entered into the scheme
at all, I should take the full share according to the
course which he marked out. — ' I am about to
submit,' he said, ' to a terrible ordeal and run a
fearful risk, which nothing but the horror of a
twenty years' incarceration would induce me to
encounter. But if I were to trust to the Earl
of Eccieston alone, to superintend my disinter-
ment, look at the hideous chances I should have
against me ! He himself might die suddenly ; he
might be taken ill; or his heart might fail him at
the last moment, and he might leave me to mydread-
ful fate. But if there be two of you; both having
a knowledge of the secret ; 60^/1 sworn to act

318

JOSEPH WILAIOT; OB, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAtf-SEBVANT.

honourably, truly and faithfully : each fearing to
act treacherously on account of the other ; then
should I feel myself safe, because it would be
downright murder to leave me to perish in the
grave to which I should be consigned !' — In this
sense was it that Lanover spoke, though at far
greater length and using other arguments to en-
force his view of the case. And then too, he
oifered that bribe, the amount of which I have
already specified to your lordship. And I yielded !"

"You yielded," said the Count of Livorno;
"and then doubtless you were put in communi-
cation with the Earl of Eceleston himself?"

" Yes, my lord," responded the surgeon. " That
very same evening the Earl of Eceleston visited
the prison; and the whole plan was finally settled
in Lanovcr's presence. It was easy to perceive
that Lanover had some powerful hold upon the
Earl — though what its nature might be, I know
not. Horrever, all was arranged ; and Lanover
compelled both myself and the Earl to take oaths
of the most awful solemnity — oaths which I shud-
der to think of, but which not for worlds would I
have violated !"

"Proceed," said the Count of Livorno. "Pass
over that fearful portion of your narrative : we
can full well comprehend that a man of a desperate
disposition would not commit himself to such a
hideous ordeal without taking every guarantee for
Ills eventual security."

" I have little more to say, my lord," continued
the surgeon : " a few words will suffice to explain
the rest. I myself would have nothing to do with
the making-up of the soporific : I was so fearful of
detection ! But I told the Earl of Eceleston what
ho was to ask for, at what chymist's he could pro-
cure it, and the pretext he was to make for requir-
ing such a drug. Then, in pursuance of the pre-
arranged plan, Lanover affected to be taken with
indisposition : I attended upon him : I conveyed
to him the drug which the Earl had procured;
and it produced the desired effect. It was for me
to pronounce an opinion upon his death— or rather
Lis apparent death ; and I declared that it arose
from natural causes."

The surgeon stopped short : there was a silence
of nearly a minute: and then he added in a low
deep voice, " Your lordship has told me that there
was a witness to last night's proceedings ; and
therefore I need not explain how the entranced
Lanover was brought back to life,"

"Ifo— it is unnecessary," replied the Count of
Livorno.

" There is however something which I must add,"
continued the surgeon. " First of all it was the
temptation of a heavy bribe which led me into this
plot; but when once embarked in it, all the specu-
lative interest of a mind devoted to science and the
medical profession became enlisted therein. Of
this I solemnly assure you ! But I have still some-
thing more to say : for I have promised to tell you
everything. The Earl of Eceleston came to me
yesterday afternoon, and threw out hints to the
effect that it was dangerous to carry the plot any
farther. I listened in silent horror. He inti-
mated that his purse would enrich me if 1 would
consent to fall into his views. Then was it that
the horror of my soul burst forth in wild ejacu-
lations. That execrable Eoglish nobleman would
have made me a murderer ! — he would have lef

the wretched Lanover to perish miserably in the
coffin wherein he was sealed up I No, no— I could
not do it ! If all the world's wealth had been
placed at my feet, 1 would not have consented to
become an accomplice in so hideous a treachery. I
felt that it would be as much murder as if I had
taken a knife and plunged it into the prisoner's
breast — or as if I had prescribed a deadly venota
instead of a soporific the trance-like effects of which
would in time pass away."

" All that you have just told us," said the Count
of Livorno, " disposes me to deal most leniently
with you. Proceed. Have you aught more to
say ?"

"Nothing, my lord," responded the surgeon,
with a brightening-up of his countenance at the
merciful assurance which he had just received, —
" unless it be that the Earl of Eceleston, finding
I was firm in my resolve to remain faithful to my
oath, and that I shrank in horror from the hideous
perfidy at which he had hinted, endeavoured to
make me believe that I had misunderstood him. I
chose not to prolong the conversation ; and all took
place according to our pre-arranged plans. By
accident I lost one of my instruments last night:
my present object in coming hither was to search
for it, or to ascertain from thegravediggers whether
they had discovered it: — but your lordship has
produced it as an evidence that all the proceed-
ings of the past night are indeed known unto
you."

It would be impossible for me to describe the
fearful interest with which I had listened to this
narrative — still more impossible to convey an idea
of the sickening horror which I felt at that portion
which revealed another phase of such infernal
blackness in the character of the Earl of Eceles-
ton. Oh, how cold ran the blood in my veins ! —or
rather, how it stagnated into glacial freezing
there! And I observed too that it was almost
with an equal sensation of horror that the Count
of Livorno listened to the same episode : but on
my part, to this feeling of horror one of p )ignant
distress was superadded. I was compelled to re-
gard the Earl of Eu-cleston as a very monster of
iniquity, capable of the blackest crimes, and with-
out a single redeeming quality !

"I promised," said ttie Count of Livorno, after
a brief interval of silence which followed tlie
Burgeon's concluding speech, — " I promised t > deal
mercifully with you, and my word shall be kept.
If you were handed over to the grasp of justice,
the galleys for the remainder of your lite would be
your doom. But to this extremity I will not pro-
ceed. Yet guilt such as your's must not go un-
punished. For it is guilt — and of a deep dye!
You have proved the means of cheating justice of
its due : you have given liberty to a man whom
the law had stricken with its righteous vengeance.
And such a man ! It is the same as if you had
liberated a ravenous tiger from its den, or a veno-
mous serpent from its cage. For whatsoever
crimes this wretch may hereafter commit against
society, you are fearfully responsible. But you
have done even more ! You are horrified at the
idea of becoming a murderer, even indirectly : and
yet circumstances might have rendered you a
murderer ! What if the suggestions of your
scientific skill had failed ? what if you had caused
to be given a drop too little or a drop too much of

JOSEPH WILMOT; OE, THE MBMIOES OP A MAN-SEBTAXT.

310

that soporific drug? In the former case the
wretch might have awakened from the trance
before the time you estimated, and he would have
perished in the awful agonies of suflfocation. On
the other hand, if the dose had been too powerful,
instead of plunging him into a temporary trance, it
might have steeped him in the slumber of death.
These were the risks which you incurred. Do not
interrupt me! — I know what you would say. You
would tell me that with an awful sense of your
tremendous responsibility, you calculated to the
millionth part of a drop the proper quantity to
be administered ; and you would point to the re-
sult as a justification of the argument. But in all
candour you must confess— and at least in the
depth of your own conscience you must acknow-
ledge, that the chances you incurred were fright-
ful, and that circumstances have developed them-
selves marvellously in your favour. Considering
all these things, it is impossible that you can be
left altogether unpunished. Therefore the golden
temptation to which you succumbed, shall be taken
from you. Hasten and bestow it upon some
charitable institution ; and when you bring me
the treasurer's receipt, proving that you have thus
disposed of the ill-earned lucre, I will pledge you
my solemn word that your secret shall be kept.
Depart !" — and the Count of Livorno waved his
hand imperiously.

The surgeon bowed with an expression of coun-
teniince that denoted a deep gratitude mingled
with a sense of utter humiliation : and as he
hastened away, the Count of Livorno turned a
look upon me as if to ascertain whether I were
satisfied with the judgment that he had just pro-
nounced upon the guilty accomplice of the Earl of
Eccleston. I signified my fullest approbation : in-
deed, for more reasons than one, I did not wish
publicity to be by any means given to those pro-
ceedings wherein the name of the Earl of Eccleston
would be so fearfully mixed up, and the dishonour
thereof would redound upon the head of his Coun-
tess.

There was no longer any necessity for me to re-
main at the villa : the Count and I proceeded on
foot to Florence, which was only two miles dis-
tant ; and thence he despatched a couple of his
domestics to bring back his horse, and likewise to
fetch my baggage. We resolved to lose no time
in seeing Dorchester ; and at about two o'clock in
the afternoon of that same day, we presented our-
selves at the prison-entrance. The turnkey at once
admitted us ; and we were introduced* to the cell
where Dorchester was confined. We found him
lying on his pallet — for he was weak and ill : but
he at once sale up on recognising the Count of
Livorno, and he was evidently much surprised to
•ee me.

" Do not rise," said his lordship, adopting a con-
ciliatory tone : " we are not here to reproach you
— but we have come with the endeavour to make
an impression upon your mind."

" For what purpose ? — for what purpose ?"
asked Dorchester nervously.

" You have something to reveal which may in-
terest my young friend Mr. Wilmot," continued
the Count of Livorno ; " and inasmuch as it can-
not in the slightest degpree benefit you to with-
hold it, it may be to your advantage to make it
known."

" I thought Mr. Wilmot had left Florence ?'
said Dorchester.

"No," responded the Count: "he remained
hero until the Earl of Eccleston took 7tis depar-
ture— for he is gone!"

"I know it — I know it," said the prisoner.
" But "

"You stop short," resumed the Count. "I
know what you would say. The Earl of Eccleston
is gone : but he has left behind him the promise
that he would use his influence on your behalf.
Yes, you see that these are no mysteries for me.
Perhaps I can tell you more. The Earl visited
you only once since your condemnation : but ho
has sent reassuring messages to you through some
other channel. Is it not so ?"

" It is, my lord — it is true 1" said Dorchester.
" But what of that ? The Earl has known me
for many, many years : is it not natural that he
should interest himself on my behalf?"

" If he possessed the power," answered the
Count of Livorno. "Ah! I know that it was at
his intercession the British Envoy exerted his in-
fluence with the Tuscan Secretary of State to pro-
cure a remission of the ignominious portion of
your sentence. But think you that my interest
with the Tuscan Government is not greater still ?—
know you not that I am the nephew of tlie Grand
Duke, and that a Ministerial post was offered unto
myself — but that I declined it ? Think you, then,
if I had foreseen that the Earl of Eceleston's in-
terest was to be used in your behalf, I could not
with a single word have nullified it if such had
been my object ? And now, can you possibly
flatter your-elf that the interest of all the E iris
of England could avail you against my expressed
wish and desire ?"

" I know that you are powerful, my lord," said
Dorchester, trembling nervously and with a fright-
ened look : " but surely, surely you will not use
your authority to crush a wretched being like my-
self?"

" No," answered the Count : '•' nothing wantonly
cruel nor unnecessarily harsh am I capable of ac-
complishing. But let me repeat that if trusting
to any promises which the Earl of Eccleston held
out, you prefer remaining faithful to his interests
instead of serving those of this young gentleman
whom I regard as a brother, you will act most un-
wisely : for rest assured that the Earl's interces-
sions shall not again avail you — whereas if you
show yourself deserving of mercy, it is through
my interest alone that it can be granted."

Mr. Dorchester seemed to be profoundly smitten
with the truth of these observations : but he was
cunning and wily — and notwithstanding his de-
jected condition, his natural artfulness did not
desert him.

" Without meaning to give any offence to your
lordship," he said after some little reflection, "you
must permit me to remark that these are mere
words, and you have held out no inducement to
render it worth my while to desert the interests
of Lord Eccleston. In the absence of some specifio
pledge on your lordship's part, it were better for
me to continue to trust to the good offices of the
Earl of Eccleston, which the chapter of accidents
may enable to develope themselves."

The Count of Livorno now reflected deeply in
his turn ; and I was the prey to an acute suspense :

zo

JOSEPH WIIjMOT; OB, THE MKMOIBS OP A MAN-PKEVANT.

for I saw that it all depended on the extent of the
promise which the Count might choose to make
whether Mr. Dorchester would state what he knew
or not.

" You are condemned to imprisonment for the
remainder of your life," the Count of Livorno at
length spoke; "and your age must be past sixty.
You cannot possibly hope that the Tuscan govern-
ment, even at my intercession, will liberate so
guilty an offender as you are until you have at
least passed a certain term of imprisonment. On
the other hand, at your age and in your debilitated
condition of health, you can scarcely expect to live
beyond such a period as the Tuscan government
may deem the very least amount of punishment
that ought to be inflicted. Now therefore, the
next consideration is — where and how this term of
imprisonment shall be passed. Shall it be in a
fortress amongst other felons ?— or shall it be in a
maisoii de sante— one of those establishments to
which criminals, in particular circumstances, are
allowed to be transferred under the fiction of in-
sanity, but where they are permitted the enjoy-
ment of all reasonable comforts ?"

"Yes, my lord!" exclaimed Dorchester eagerly
clutching at the hope thus held out. " But a
criminal can only be consigned to a inaison de
aante when he possesses private friends who will
pay an income for his maintenance there ?"

"It is true," answered the Count coldly, "that
you possess no private friends: your misdeeds
must have long ago alienated any whom you did
possess. Nevertheless, the same motives which
would induce me to serve you, would likewise
prompt me to guarantee the payment of this sum
which is requisite for your maintenance in an
asylum for the insane. Remember, Mr. Dorchester,
that in Bueh an establishment you would be
treated as a gentleman, you would enjoy com-
forts bordering even upon luxuries — you would be
enabled to take exercise in spacious pleasure-
grounds — and you would scarcely miss the more
extended range of freedom. Does this oiFer tempt
you ?"

" It does, my lord— it does !" exclaimed the pri-
soner: then, as a shade suddenly came over his
countenance, he asked hesitatingly, " How do I
know that the government would yield to your
lordship's intercession, even if you were to proffer
it on my behalf ?"

" Sir," responded the Count of Livorno sternly,
" I am not in the habit of promising more than I
can perform. I pledge my word as a nobleman
and a gentleman — as one in whose veins flows the
Royal blood of Tuscany's reigning family — that if
you can really give my friend Mr. Wilmot any in-
formation which is serviceable to him, I will within
three days obtain an order for your transfer to a
maison de sante. Are you satisfied now ?"

" I am, my lord — I throw myself upon your
mercy !" rejoined Dorchester,

At this answer I felt relieved from a torturing
amount of suspense ; and a feeling of intense
curiosity thrilled through my veins, while the same
cause produced a sensation of awe at the heart.

"Joseph Wilmot," said Mr. Dorchester, ad-
dressing himself to me, " from something which
that wretched man the deceased Lanover let drop
in my hearing a short time ago, — when first he en-
gaged me in his schemes relative to Sir Matthew

Heseltine and the Athene, — I was first led to sus-
pect that you had sustained persecutions of a par-
ticular character at the hands of the Earl of
Eccleston."

" It is true — most true !" I murmured in a tre-
mulous voice, my whole frame quivering with
anxious suspense. "Yes! — as Mr.'Mulgrave was
he a bitter persecutor of mine ; and recent occur-
rences have shown that as Earl of Eccleston he is
far from boing my friend."

"The other day," resumed Dorchester, "when
I saw you in Court, I bethought me of what Lan-
over bad thus let drop. From other circumstances
which were within my knowledge, I was led in
vulgar parlance to put two and two together; and
a suspicion arose in my mind — a suspicion that it
was in my power to throw some light on facts
which I knew must be still full of mystery for
you. Y''our intimacy with his lordship the Count
of Livorno " — here Dorchester bowed to the noble-
man— "'suggested something to my mind. I
penned that brief billet which asked for an inter-
view, and which I was subsequently surprised to
learn you displayed to the eyes of the Earl of
Eccleston, My object was to impart my suspi-
cion in respect to yourself — to reveal to you the
grounds thereof — and thus to afford you a clue
which it would remain for you to follow up. In
return, it was my purpose to stipulate that you
should use your influence with my Lord Count
who is now present, towards obtaining the remis-
sion of the infamous portion of my sentence. But
that very same evening the Earl of Eccleston came
to me: he told me that you had shown him the
note — and he promised to do all I required if I
would remain silent in respect to what i intendcl
to communicate to your ears. He fulfilled his
pledge : my object was gained ; and hence the
manner in which I treated you, Mr. Wilmot, when
you called on the following day. But that very
proceeding on the Earl of Eccleston's part con-
firmed the suspicions which had previously entered
my mind !"

" And that suspicion ?" I exclaimed in breath-
less suspense.

" Listen," said Mr, Dorchester ; " and I will tell
you a narrative which belongs to many years ago."

Then the prisoner proceeded to unfold a tale to
which both the Count and myself listened with the
deepest, deepest interest. It is not, however, my
purpose to incorporate it with this portion of my
narrative : it will be more appropriate to reserve
for a future occasion the important revelations
which were thus made to my ears. Suffice it to
add that when we rose to take our departure, the
Count renewed his promise of procuring the
transfer of Mr. Dorchester within three days to a
maison de sante, and of paying a liberal pension
for bis maintenance in that establishment.

" And if we never meet again, Mr. Wilmot,"
said Dorchester, whose heart appeared to have
been touched by the scene, as well as by the kind
way in which the Count of Livorno had now
spoken to him, " you will perhaps consider that
whatsoever good these revelations may accomplish
on your behalf, will have atoned for much of the
evil that on former occasions I have done you r"

" I declare, Mr. Dorchester," I exclaimed, " that
I forgive you ! — from the bottom of my heart do I
forgive you !"

JOSEPH WILMOT; OK, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT.

" And I will promise even more than that to
which I have already pledged myself," said the
Count of Livorno : and then he added emphatically,
" If the communications you have this day made
to my friend Wilmot shall prove instrumental in
working out that aim which must now be his
object, I declare that your term of imprisonment
in the maison de sante shall be considerably
shortened."

Dorchester went down upon his knees to thank
the Count of Livorno for this generous assurance ;
and the old man sobbed like a child. We raised
him up : we both shook hands with him, for we
felt convinced that the period of remorse and peni-
tence had now veritably begun. We issued from
his cell ; and when in the corridor, the Count of
Livorno embraced me, saying, '•' My dear Wilmot,
you will succeed — rest assured that you will suc-
ceed ! There is justice in heaven ; and providence
by its own inscrutable means is gradually though
93

surely conducting you onward to an issue from all

the dark clouds of mystery which have hitherto
enveloped your destiny."

On our return to the generous nobleman's man-
sion, we held a long consultation together. In
the evening he presented me a packet which he
had just received from the Tuscan Prime Mini-
ster : it contained a full and complete pardon for
all offences which Constantino Durazzo Kanaris,
now Count of Monte d'Oro, might at any time
have committed against the maritime laws of the
Grand Duchy of Tuscany, On returning to my
chamber I wrote letters to the Count of Monte
d'Oro and to Signer Portici, stating that urgent
business would prevent me rejoining them in Cor-
sica at as early a day as I had promised : I en-
closed the Eoman and the Tuscan State-
documents ; and I added that the pardon of
Austria would likewise be speedily obtained —
when it would be transmitted by the Count of

322

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OB, THE MEMOIRS 03 A MAN-SERTANT.

Livorno. I likewise wrote to my friends in Rome ;
and then I made my preparations for a journey
on the following morning.

After an early breakfast, I took a most affec-
tionate leave of the Count and Countess of Livorno,
and entered the post-chaise which was to bear me
away from tho Tuscan capital.

CHAPTER CXLV.

I WAS in. total ignorance of the direction which
the Earl of Ecclescon's carriage had taken on
leaving the neighbourhood of the cemetery the
night but one previous : but the Count of Livorno
had managed to ascertain for me that the post-
chaise hired for the use of the Countess, was to
convey her ladyship to Milan, whence it was to be
Bent back to the hotel at Florence. I had there-
fore resolved to proceed to Milan ; and though my
mind was intent on business of the utmost im-
portance, yet was I by no means sorry to have an
object in visiting the capital of Lombardy. The
distance from Florence to Milan is about a hun-
dred and seventy miles ; and thus at the rate of
Italian travelling, and allowing for stoppages — but
by journeying all night — I felt that I might calcu-
late on reaching my destination on the following
morning.

At the two or three first stages out of Florence
I made inquiries relative to the Earl's chariot and
the post-chaise in which the Countess travelled :
but I could hear nothing of either of those
equipages. I can scarcely aver that I was disap-
pointed at this — inasmuch (as I have said in a
former part of my narrative) there were three or
four roads from Florence to the Apennines, which
had to be crossed in order to reach Lombardy. It
was therefore quite probable that the equipages
just alluded to had taken a different route from
that which I was pursuing. At all events, I re-
garded it as a certainty that the Countess of
Eccleston's destination was really Milan ; and I
therefore concluded that she must be going thither
to rejoin her husband, or that she would in that
city receive tidings concerning him.

I experienced no adventure worth relating
during my journey from the Tuscan capital to
Milan ; and I reached the latter city at an early
hour of the morning which followed the day of my
departure from Florence. My plan of proceeding
was settled in my mind, so far as circumstances
would permit. I knew that I had a deep game to
play and that I must exercise the greatest caution ;
for that if the Earl of Eccleston should by any
acoident discover I was on his track, and likewise
suspect the motive, he might spirit away Lanover
to some place whither I might never be enabled to
trace him. Therefore, on arriving at Milan, it was
absolutely necessary to avoid the chance of putting
up at the same hotel where the Earl might have
already taken his quarters, — supposing that he was
really there. I concluded that he would go to a
first-rate hotel : I therefore resolved to stop at an
inferior one. But even when the chaise drove up
to the door of a hostelry of such a nature as I had
explained to the postilion, I did not alight until

the landlord had come forth lo speak to mo. I
affected to be particular only in ascertaining that
he could afford me comfortable accommodation :
but I managed to elicit from hioi that no guests
of any importance were staying at his house. I
then quitted the vehicle, and took up my quarters
at the establishment where I thus alighted.

When I had partaken of breakfast, I sent for
the landlord, and said to him, " I am a perfect
stranger at Milan ; and I have a little business to
manage of somewhat a private and delicate nature.
I need the services of some one who is trust-
worthy, active, intelligent, and discreet. I care
not what I pay in the shape of wage for such an
individual."

"My own sou, Signor," replied the landlord,
"will gladly and faithfully serve you. Though
not more than twenty, Leo has a rare intelligence
for his age. As for his discretion, Signor, if you
enjoin him to silence relative to any business you
have in hand, he will not breathe a syllable even
to his own father and mother."

" These are good recommendations," I observed ;
" and you may rest assured that your son shall be
liberally rewarded. I may perhaps remain some
little time at your bouse "

"Enough, Signor ! — you shall have no reason to
complain of your accommodations. Speaking of
Leo, you will find him a veritable treasure : for he
understands French perfectly — he Las a smattering
of English "

"Indeed!" I exclaimed: "then bo will be all
the more useful :" — for it occurred to me at the
instant that Leo would possibly have to insinuate
himself amongst the Earl of Eccleston's domestics,
in order to prosecute his inquiries. "Let him
come to me at once."

The landlord retired ; and in a few minutes Leo
made his appearance. I found him to be a good-
looking young man, of middle stature, and slightly
made. His countenance was remarkably intelli-
gent : his manners were agreeable. I spoke to
him in French, and discovered that his father had
by no means exaggerated the fluency with which
he conversed in that language. Having delivered
myself at some length in respect to the fidelity
and the zeal which I expected to characterize his
services — having also given him a few gold coins
as an earnest of my liberality — I addressed him in
the following manner: —

" It suits my purpose to discover whether the
Earl and Countess of Eccleston are now sojourning
in Milan. This you must first ascertain. If they
are, you must endeavour without loss of time, to
learn their intentions and their future proceedings,
— how long they are going to stay here — whither
they are next going — and likewise whether they
have any one travelling with them besides their
servants. Especially is it important for me to dis-
cover whether there is at Milan, either with tho
Ecclestons or elsewhere, an Englishman of whom
I will give you the minutest description."

I then proceeded to describe Lanover: but I
did not mention his name — for I felt assured that
wherever he might be he was travelling under a
false one. Leo listened to me with the greatest
attention : I gave hiui a few more minute details
in respect to the task which he had to perform ;
and he then left me. I should explain that my
object in seeking to learn whither tho Ecclestons

JOSEPH WIIMOT; OB, THE MEMOIfig OP A MAlT-gEETANT.

323

■were going when tbey left Milan, was in order
that 1 might follow them if in the meanwhile I
should fail to find out how the Earl had disposed
of Lanover. I thought it very probable that
Lanover's destination might be England, where
he would perhaps hope to renew his persecution
of Sir Matthew Heseltine. If the Earl continued
to travel separately from the Countess, it would be
a good reason for believing that Lanover was tra-
velling with him ; and although they might not have
taken up their quarters at the same hotel, yet might
they depart from Milan in the same vehicle : for I
did not see how Lanover could possibly have a
passport of his own ; and I therefore suspected
that the Earl would find it necessary to smuggle
him through the Continent under the protection
of the general passport which included all the
members of his retinue. As for my own proceed-
ings in respect to the Earl, I felt that I must be
guided by circumstances : but according to the
plan I had already laid down, my first object was
to obtain an interview with Lanover before I took
any steps in reference to the nobleman.

I remained close in my own room at the hotel,
and endeavoured to while away the time with some
French and English newspapers which the land-
lord lent me. But my mind was too anxious and
too restless to settle itself to such a pursuit; and
when three hours had passed away after Leo had
set out upon his mission, I thought that at least
double that time must have elapsed— so slowly did
it drag itself along ! At length Leo reappeared ;
and I at once saw by his countenance that he had
something to communicate.

"The Earl and Countess of Eccleston are at
Milan," he said. " They arrived separately with
an interval of about a dozen hours. The Earl
came in his travelling-ehariot — the Countess jour-
neyed in a post-chaise. They are not staying at
any hotel — but are living at a house in a retired
spot in one of the suburbs."

"And that house F" I said: "whose is it? Is
it a private habitation ?"

" It was to let ready furnished," answered Leo ;
" and it seems that the Earl must have known
something of it before— for he wrote from Flo-
rence to the proprietor, who is a large wine mer-
chant in Milan, engaging it for a period — but
I have been unable to ascertain for how long. I
have walked as far as the house : I loitered a little
in the neighbourhood in the hope of falling in with
one of the Earl's domestics — but I did not suc-
ceed ; and apprehensive that if I remained there
too long suspicion would be excited, I came away.
This is all that I have to impart at present."

'• And what you have told me is already most
important," I said : for I thought within myself
that the Earl of Eccleston would not have taken
that secluded habitation unless it were for the pur-
pose of concealing Lanover within its walla : and I
moreover conjectured that the wretched humpback
might possibly be ill and unable at present to bear
the fatigues of farther travelling.

" I now purpose," continued Leo, " to adopt
some means of getting into conversation with the
domestics of the Earl of Eccleston. If I could
only become intimate with one of them "

" Ah ! if you could," I exclaimed, " you might
soon manage to learn additional intelligence of
importance. Spare not money — treat the men.

servants to wine — or bribe them do anything

for the purpose of ascertaining whether the hump-
back whom I have described to you, is within
those walla. Ah ! an idea strikes me ! It may be
that he is ill; and if so he will need medical
attendance."

" Trust to me. Signer," responded Leo : " I will
succeed by some means or another."

The indefatigable young man then again left me.
Hour after hour passed: but I was less nervous
and anxious than before: for the initiative had
been taken — and the important intelligence that
the Ecclestons were really at Milan, was obtained.
I dined at about five o'clock ; and it was a little
past seven when Leo made his appearance.

" I have succeeded in doing but little more.
Signer," he said : " for when I endeavoured to get
into conversation with one of his lordship's men-
servants, as he was issuing forth on some message,
I met with a rude repulse. But there is some
one ill in the house : for a surgeon who dwells in
the neighbourhood, has called there ; and shortly
afterwards his boy went with some bottles of medi-
cine."

" This ig more or less important," I observed :
" but still it is absolutely necessary to ascertain
who this invaid really is, and whether he be
the humpback whether, in a word, the hump-
back is in that house ?"

" There is a plan, Signor, which might be
adopted," said Leo thoughtfully : " but perhaps it
were better for me to see whether I can wheedle
anything out of the surgeon first of all ."

" And that plan of yours, Leo ?" I said inquir-
ingly.

"I will explain it to-morrow, Signor," he re-
sponded. " It will bo time enough to think of it,
if by other means I should fail in ascertaining the
particular point on which you are so anxious to be
enlightened."

Nothing more was done that evening : for Leo
was afraid of being seen loitering too much in the
vicinity of the secluded house, lest suspicion should
be excited. I retired to rest soon ; for I was ex-
ceedingly tired in consequence of having travelled
the whole of the previous night : but I awoke at
an early hour in the morning completely re-
freshed.

After a brief interview with Leo, he went forth
again ; and at about noon ho returned,

" I have done all that I could in respect to the
surgeon," he said ; " and I have failed. First I
got hold of the boy who carries out the medicine :
but he could tell me nothing. I questioned
him so guardedly and with so mu^ precaution,
that he could not suspect I had any ulterior object.
After he had entered his master's shop, I watched
till he went forth again ; and then I myself walked
into the surgery. I consulted the medical man
upon all sorts of imaginary pains and ailments;
and I gave him a liberal fee. Under the pretext
of resting myself, I remained to get into conver-
sation with him ; and without vanity I may say
that in a dexterous manner I began talking of the
large, gloomy, sombre-looking house standing in
the midst of grounds completely inclosed by a high
wall. The surgeon was polite, but short and dry
in his answers : he said not a word about having a
patient there. It is evident, signor, that he finds
his account in holding his tongue."

324

JOSEPH WIT;MOT; OB, THE MEMOraS OP A MAN-SEEVANT.

" Yes— doubtless he is well bribed," I observed j
" and some specious tale has been told him to
account for the necessity of his secresy."

" I made another effort," continued Leo, " to
get into conversation with one of the Earl's ser-
vants— not the same to whom I spoke yesterday
— but a far more civil man. He answered me
politely enough ; but when I began to touch gently
on the subject of the family that he served, he gave a
brief response and hastened off. In the same way,
signor, that the surgeon has been bribed, so have
the domestics been enjoined to silence. That it is
not the Earl himself who is the invalid — nor the
Countess — I am tolerably well convinced ; for I
saw them both issue from the mansion together in
the carriage : I recognised them easily by the de-
scription you had given me. I followed the equi-
page ; it drew up at a mercer's shop in a neigh-
bouring street : the Earl assisted the Countess to
alight ; and then he strolled away on foot. I lingered
no longer — but came to tell you what had been
done."

" You hinted at some plan last night, Leo," I
said : " and now it seems that we must fall back
upon it. Explain yourself."

"If I hesitated, signor," answered Leo, "it was
because the proceeding which I would suggest, is
somewhat a hazardous one; and I reserved it as a
last resource."

" And what is it ?" I anxiously inquired.

" You know, sir," replied Leo, " that Lombardy
groans under the yoke of Austria, and that Milan
is the seat of the tyrant government. On the
slightest pretence the Austrian police invade the
sanctity of private dwellings and burst into the
most respectable houses, for the purpose of ascer-
taining if proscribed persons are harboured there.
There is likewise a swarm of informers and spies
of every description : for the system of despotism
which crushes my native Lombardy fosters all these
iniquities. I am treading on dangerous ground,
signor "

" Not with me !" I exclaimed. " In the first
place my political ideas are liberal enough to make
me detest despotism of every sort — especially that
of Austria ; and in the second place I am incapable
of breathing a word to the prejudice or injury of
one who is now so zealously serving me. Proceed
— and explain your plan."

"It is two-fold, Signor," resumed Leo: "or
rather I should say it may be carried out in either
one of two ways, according as you may think fit.
I will explain the first method. If I were to go to
a police-officer and whisper to him that some pro-
scribed patriot is concealed at that house in the
suburbs, he would immediately proceed with two
or three of his officials to examine the premises ;
and I might easily go with him. The Earl of
Eccleston's authority would avail nothing. Saving
your presence, signor, the Austrians hate the
English : for they look upon England as the refuge
of exiles and the focus where Continental insur-
rections are planned. Well then, not a room, not
a chamber, not a nook nor corner of the house
would escape the most scrutinizing search ; and
the Austrian officials would even take a delight in
annoying the Earl of Eccleston, simply because he
is an Englishman. As a matter of course, the
proscribed patriot whom I should name would not
be found at that house : but I should have accom-

panied the officials, and should be able to come
back and tell you whether the humpbacked English-
man is within those walls. As for the officials
themselves, one of those gold pieces which you
have given me would appease them for their dis-
appointment in not finding the object of their
search."

" This plan at the first glance appears good
enough," I said : " but what is the other proceed-
ing which may be adopted ?"

" The same, signor," rejoined Leo, — " but to be
enacted with a different set of characters. I mean
that instead of playing the game so seriously, I
and two or three of my friends might dress ourselves
up so as to resemble officers of the secret police ;
and in this guise we might visit the mansion."

" Think you not," I asked, " that the Earl of
Eccleston would demand the warrant for such pro-
ceedings ?"

" In good sooth, signor," responded Leo, " the
Austrian officials themselves would conduct their
proceeding without any other warrant than that
which despotism affords to their discretionary use ;
and therefore it is now fir you, signor, to decide
how this plan is to be carried out."

I reflected for several minutes : an idea was
stealing into my mind. What if I myself were
to dress up as a police-agent and accompany the
party ? No harm would be done if Lanover were
not found in the house : but on the other hand,
if he were really there, who could tell what ' im-
portant results might ensue ? As to the possi-
bility of assuming an effectual disguise, I had no
cause to despair on that score, when I recollected
how well the mountebank's costume had served me
a few months back amidst the Apennine moun-
tains. I knew of course that it was a serious
breach of the law to assume an authority which
one did not possess : but there were not the slight-
est moral grounds on which I should hesitate at
such a stratagem ; and as for the fear of exposure,
would the Earl of Eccleston dare raise his voice
against me ? All things considered, I was not very
long in making up my mind.

" I have decided on the latter alternative which
you have suggested," I said to Leo. " But what
is more, I myself will accompany you."

" Ah, signor !" he exclaimed ; " this will indeed
be the better course to pursue; and had I dared,
I should have so proposed it."

" You must be sure to obtain the assistance of
discreet persons," I said, " and who will know how
to play their part well. It were better if we are
tolerably numerous : because I know what the
English disposition is — and it is by no means im-
probable that the Earl of Eccleston and his domes»
tics may take it into their heads to resist the pro-
posed incursion by force and violence."

" Trust me, signor, they will not do it," answered
Leo. " I have learnt that it is not the first time
the Earl of Eccleston has been in this capital ;
and he knows the arbitrary laws of Lombardy.
However, you may rest assured, signor, that all
my measures shall be discreetly taken. But for
your own disguise "

" I must trust to you, Leo, to procure me all
the requisites," I responded. " Whiskers and
moustachios are the invariable ingredients of a
good disguise : and these may be of rather a for-
midable character, inasmuch as I am to play tha

JOSEPH "WTLMOT; OE, THE MEMOIES OF A MAN-SEBTAKT.

325

part of an Austrian police-official. Some dje
too for my complexion : any chymist will furnish
it. As for the costume, I leave it entirely to your
udgment."

I gave the faithful Leo a fresh supply of money :
and he left me for the purpose of making his
arrangements. The hours passed away ; and at
seven o'clock in the evening I ascended to my
chamber to achieve the toilet for my disguise. Leo
succoured me. He had procured a dye which im-
parted a faint duskiness to the complexion, and
which could be easily washed oflf: a formidable
pair of whiskers and moustachios gave me a look
of ferocity which even astonished myself. He had
obtained for mo a suit of plain clothes of some-
what shabby appearance and Italian fashion ; for
he intimated that there was no necessity for any
of the party to appear in the uniform of the Aus-
trian police-officials.

It was about eight o'clock when we set off. Be-
sides Leo and myself, there were three powerful
men whose services he had engaged, and on whose
discretion he could rely. He had made no attempt
to disguise himself; for inasmuch as he had lurked
about the premises and had questioned some of
the domestics, those very circumstances would tend
to stamp him as a police spy, and therefore give a
colour to the whole proceeding on which we were
about to embark. The landlord — Leo's father —
was to a certain extent in the secret ; and he there-
fore was enabled to prevent the hotel-servants from
peering too closely into the proceeding when we
set out. A chaise belonging to the establishment
received myself and the three hired assistants, —
Leo riding on the box by the side of the driver.

CHAPTER CXLVL

THE SEAIiCn.

About half-an-hour's drive brought us into the
suburb where the house was situated ; and as we
drew near, I saw that it justified the rapidly
sketched description which Leo had given of it :
namely, that it was a sombre, gloomy-looking man-
sion situated in the midst of grounds enclosed by a
high wall. In this wall there was a great gate con-
sisting of folding-doors, in one of which a wicket
was contrived. A lamp burnt over the gate ; and
a little window at the side showed that there was
a porter's lodge.

Leo caused the vehicle to stop close under the
•wall, at a distance of about half a dozen yards
from the gate; and thither we all proceeded in a
body. The bell, as it rang, appeared to awaken
gloomy echoes within the enclosure ; and I must
confess that for a few moments I rather repented
— though I scarcely knew why — of the course that
I was adopting. However, I had gone too far to
recede ; and now the wicket gate was opened by
the porter.

The eldest of the three hired assistants was to
play the part of spokesman, and therefore to act as
the chief of the posse. He said to the porter, with
a short, stern, commanding manner of authority,
" We belong to the secret police : you will do well
to act submissively."

The porter was an Italian: he had charge of the

house previous to the arrival of the Earl ; and he
did not therefore belong, accurately speaking, to
his lordship's domestic retinue. The mere mention
of the word "police" was evidently enough for the
man : he turned deadly pale, as the lamp over the
gate showed ; and ha faltered out, " I am innocent
of wliatever is wrong."

" It may be so— and I dare say it is," observed
our spokesman, in the same well assumed tone of
police-officialism as before. " Be discreet — and no-
thing shall happen to yourself. How many per-
sons are there inside the house ? — and who are
they ?"

But just at this moment a couple of men-servants
appeared at the front door of the mansion itself,
which stood about a dozen yards within the gate-
way : and our spokesman — or our chief, as I had
better call him — deemed it advisable to press for-
ward at once, the rest following close. Leo put
himself prominently in advance, so as to be recog-
nised by the two footmen : for they were the very
identical same whom he had sought to draw into
conversation, as already described.

"My good men," said our chief, addressing the
Earl's lacqueys in English, for his knowledge of
which Leo had selected him ; " we are police-
officers, and we are come to search this house."

I saw that they both look confused and uneasy
for a moment, as they evidently recognised Leo :
but recovering their self-possession, they de-
manded, as if speaking in the same breath, " What
for P"

" Where is your master ? and we will explain
ourselves. Do you two," continued the chief, ad-
dressing himself to the other hired assistants, "go
round and keep the back premises. The firing of
a pistol will be a sign that resistance is offered,
and we shall know how to act."

Our two adjuncts who were thus addressed, sped
away to execute the instructions they had thus
received; and our chief was about to push his way
into the hall, when one of the English lacqueys
cried out to the other, " I say, Ned, are we to put
up with this? or shall we polish these fellows
off?"

" Well, I rather think we had better see what
my lord says," responded the other. " Ah ! here
is his lordship."

A side-door in the hall opened ; and forth came
the Earl of Eccleston, with excitement visibly de-
picted upon his countenance.

" What is the meaning of this altercation P" he
demanded,

" Please, my lord," replied one of the lacqueys,
" these fellows say they belong to the police, and
that they mean to search the house."

" The police ? search the house ?" echoed the
Earl of Eccleston faintly : and I saw that for
an instant he staggered as if stricken a blow.

Leo hastily nudged me : the same idea had
occurred to us both at the same instant : we
regarded the Earl's trouble as a proof that the
object of our search was really within those
walls.

"Yes, my lord," answered our chief; " we come
here with authority, and you had better tell this
impudent knave of your's who talked of resisting
us, that he had better be upon his guard how he
interferes with the officers of the law. Besides, if
you compel us to use violence, we shall soon

326

JOSEPH WILMOT; OE, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT.

convince you who is the stronger party. Tsvo of
our men have gone round to the back of the pre-
mises; and we have half-a-dozen more who have
clambered over the wall into the grounds, and are
therefore at hand to obey a signal when given to
them."

While our chief was making this speech, the
Earl of Eccleston was evidently exerting himself to
the utmost to regain his self-possession. By this
time we had entered some paces into the hall ; and
as I glanced towards the door of the room whence
the Earl had emerged, I beheld the Countess
standing just within the threshold — for that door
was ajar. Strange emotions seized upon me : but
I might not give way to them !

" Where is your authority," inquired the Earl
of Eccleston, " for this present proceeding ? Not
that I mean to dispute it : only it were as well for
me to know on what ground so arbitrary a course
is adopted towards an English nobleman of high
rank."

" We are given to understand, my lord," said
the chief, " that you harbour within these walls a
certain proscribed Italian, whose seditious prac-
tises have already produced trouble and disturb-
ance in the city of Milan."

" I harbour a political refugee !" exclaimed the
Earl haughtily : " the idea is preposterous ! Eest
assured that I do not mix myself up with the
political affairs of this country. And even if I did,"
added the nobleman, still more scornfully, "it is
not to the disciples of sedition that my sympathies
would be given."

" We are glad to hear your lordship speak thus,"
said our chief : " but nevertheless mere assurances
go for nothing. We have our commands, and
must execute them. Your lordship appears to be
a lover of order; and therefore you cannot possibly
object to this proceeding."

" I object to it on the ground that it presup-
poses me capable of harbouring a political agita-
tor," said the Earl haughtily. " There must really
be some mistake. You had better withdraw — or
I shall write to the EngHsh Ambassador at Vienna
to-morrow "

" And we shall perform our duty to-night," said
the chief curtly. " My lord, we will parley no far-
ther. Every room must be searched : but the task
shall be executed with as much delicacy as pos-
sible ; and it depends upon the commands you issue
to these lacqueys whether I first of all summon
more of my men."

" No — that at least is not necessary," replied the
Earl.

" I thought there was something wrong, my
lord," observed one of the lacqueys, " the moment
I perceived this young fellow " — pointing to Leo
— " amongst the posse : for he tried very hard to
get into discourse with me yesterday — and the
same with Edward this morning."

" Well, well, enough !" interrupted the Earl.
"It is my command that you do not offer any
molestation to these police authorities. They ap-
pear inclined to do their duty with delicacy and
forbearance ; and they will speedily discover the
error under which they labour."

" That remains to be proved, my lord," said our
chief.

He then turned to Leo, whom he ordered to re-
main in the hall ; and he beckoned me to follow

him. He was making straight towards the room
from which the Earl had emerged, — when his lord-
ship said to him, " My Countess is there ! I
pledge my honour as a nobleman and a gentle-
man "

'•' I am exceedingly sorry, my lord," interrupted
the chief ; "but the proceedings must take their
regular course."

I saw the Countess of Eccleston glide away
from the threshold of the door that was standing
ajar ; and the chief entered, — I closely following.
The Countess was now standing on the hearth-
rug : she was somewhat plainly dressed ; and me-
thought that she looked careworn. She was pale :
her face was thinner than when I had seen her
last : but her form preserved all the grandeur of
its beauty. There was a mingled hauteur and
uneasiness on her countenance. She first bent a
look of blended disdain and trouble on our chief :
but the instant her eyes settled on me, it struck
me that her gaze became more serious, as it cer-
tainly was more steadfast; and it had a certain
expression of interest in it. For a few moments
I felt confused and afflicted: then I turned hastily
away, and affected to be busy in looking behind
a screen and likewise behind the draperies.

" We are sorry to have disturbed your ladyship,"
said the chief: and then he issued from the room,
— I still following close behind. A lacquey was
in the hall witla a taper ready to guide us : but
the chief said, " If you please, we will search for
ourselves : and do you remain here."

Thus speaking, our chief took the taper from
the lacquey's hand ; and we proceeded to examine
all the other rooms on the ground-floor — but with-
out finding any one in them. As we returned
into the hall, and were about to ascend the stair-
case, I heard the Earl say in a low impatient tone,
"Do keep back, Clara! It is not fitting that
you "

" Pardon me, Augustus," interrupted the
Countess : " I cannot consent that sucli a scene
should be in progess while I "

"Well, well — have your way!" said the Earl.
" But what good will you do ? tor you see there is
no harm — there is no danger of any sort "

All this I heard plainly enough : for circum-
stances rendered me keenly sensitive in every
faculty. The Countess made no reply to her hus-
band's last observations ; and as I glanced back,
while ascending the stairs, I fancied that she was
lingering at the bottom as if more than half in-
clined to follow, yet not exactly liking to do so.
I felt convinced that there was some suspicion —
although perhaps a vague and indistinct one — ■
floating in the mind of the Countess in respect to
myself; and I trembled nervously. Ou reaching
the summit of the stairs, I again glanced down-
ward— and perceived that her ladyship was still at
the bottom, with one foot on the first step as if
preparing to ascend, but yet hesitating to do so.
The Earl was now close by her; and they were
whispering together.

The chief and I proceeded to examine all the
apartments on the first-floor : they consisted of
drawing-rooms and parlours. I need hardly say
that our examination was superficial enough ; for
when a glance showed us that there was really no
inmate in these rooms, it was sufficient.

But now we began the ascent of the stairs lead-

JOSEPH WILMOT; OE, THE MEMOIBS OF A MAN-SERTANT.

327

ing to the landing where the bed-chambers were
situated ; and it was in one of these that I ex-
pected to find Lanovor, if he were indeed in the
house at all. While mounting this second flight,
I looked over the balustrades : the Earl and the
Countess were ascending the lower flight together.
"We reached the landing. The chief, who car-
ried the candle, opened the nearest door : it was a
bed-chamber — and now I felt my heart palpitating
even more violently than before, at the hoped-for
probability of finding myself speedily in the pre-
eence of that man who could, if he chose, make me
the most important revelations. I know not how
to describe the tremulous, suspenseful, anxious
feeling which I then experienced : the reader must
imagine it. The chamber door was opened — the
chief looked in first — the next instant my own re-
gards were plunged into that room : — there was no
one. Glancing round, I perceived the Countess of
Eccleston nearly at the last step approaching the
landing : the conviction smote me that there were
trouble, and anxiety, and the agitation of strength-
ening suspicion depicted on her features. Ah !
my conduct was thus distressing her — my proceed-
jag was filling her bosom with torturing sensations !
Sut how could I help it? I at once averted my
kioks : for now all in a moment it occurred to me
Ihat there was something like an earnest, a deeply
gjathetic expression of appeal and entreaty infusing
itself into her regards.

The second chamber was opened : no one was
iJhere. The chief was approaching the next door :
— I was rapidly following without casting another
look behind me, when my ear caught the quick
rustling of a dress. The next instant a hand was
laid gently upon my arm; and a well-known voice,
speaking in low earnest tones — but tones of a
peculiar significancy — said, "It is you, Joseph .' —
yes, I know you ! — it is you ! You cannot deceive
me .'"

And the last few worda were uttered with a sin-
gular emphasis, accompanied by much emotion.

" This door is locked !" at the same instant ex-
claimed the chief, but without immediately turning
round.

" Joseph ! what, in heaven's name, do you mean
by this ?" asked the Countess rapidly, but whisper-
ingly.

" It is locked — and it must be opened !" cried
the chief, now turning round. " My lady, I beg

your pardon But where is his lordship ?"

"Joseph, put an end to all this!" whispered
the Countess vehemently. " You do not speak —
you are silent— but you do understand me ! You

are no Austrian Oh ! no— no ! Pull well do I

recognise you despite this disguise of your's !"
" Madam — Countess of Eccleston — my lady," I

faltered forth, " I will not deny But the door

must be opened — it must indeed !"

" One word more, Joseph — one word !" she said,
in a voice that was exceeding tremulous. "What
is your object ? — what do you suspect ? — or rather,
what do you know ?"

" Shall I force this door ?" demanded the
chief, now affecting considerable impatience.

"Ifo!" murmured the Countess appealingly to
me.

" Yes 1" I exclaimed, mustering up all my
courage.
The next instant the chief forced open the door

— a faint scream burst from the lips of the Coun-
tess— I rushed into the room : Lanover was there
in bed ! A light was burning in the chamber— an
elderly nurse started up frooi a seat in dismay :
an ejaculation of terror escaped from Lanover'a
tongue — but he evidently suspected not who I was.
'No — neither the Earl nor he had penetrated my
disguise : the keen eyes of the Countess bad alone
discovered that secret! But now the Earl him-
self came quickly upon the scene, followed by the
Countess, who had doubtless just whispered to
him that which she had previously hesitated to
reveal : namely, her suspicion of who I was.

"Joseph — Mr. Wilmot — my dear Wilmot," said
the Earl, fearfully agitated ; " for heaven's sake
one word with you !"

" Wilmot ? Joseph Wilmot ?" cried Lanover,
who had caught the words : and then, a light
breaking in unto his mind, he ejaculated, " What

does this mean ? This disguise "

I made a sign for the chief to withdraw — the
Countess sent away the nurse also — and then I
said, " All is known to me, as you may full well
understand !"

" But how — my God ! how ?" shudderingly
asked the unhappy Countess, clasping her hands
together. " Ah ! yes, I see that all is indeed

known "

" How ? how ?" demanded the Earl.
"Joseph, you are ever on my track !" murmured
Lanover, raising himself painfully up in the bed.
"Why do you pursue me thus ?"

" I do not pursue you without cause," I an-
swered. " You were first the pursuer : now you
are the pursued ! I have vowed to learn all that

so closely regards me -My lord — and you, my

lady — leave us — leave me with Mr. Lanover !"

"For what purpose.?" asked the Earl, utterly
bewildered what to say or how to act, as I could
plainly perceive.

" Who are these men ?" demanded the Countess
abruptly. "Are they really the officials of the
law ?"

"You must leave me with Lanover!" I an-
swered vehemently. " Can you not all of you com-
prehend that it is dangerous to trifle any longer
with one who is so resolute as I am now showing
myself to be ?"

" But Joseph "

" Joseph ! Joseph 1"

The first ejaculation burst entreatingly from the
lips of the Countess : the second from those of the
Earl; — and then Lanover himself faltered out,
" My God ! what new misery is in store for me ?
Have I not already endured enough ?"

"Then you will not leave me alone with this
man ?" I passionately exclaimed, addressing my-
self to the Earl and Countess. "Well, then — hear
me ! I repeat, everything is known to me ! Yes
— everything ! The surgeon of the prison has

confessed "

"To whom? — to whom?" demanded the Earl
and Countess in the same breath. " To whom has
he confessed ?"

" I have kept the secret so far as I could," was
my response : " but I will not remain silent unless
all these mysteries be cleared up to my knowledge !
Dorchester—"

"' Dorchester ?" echoed the Earl.

" Dorchester ?" re-echoed the Countess — the

328

JOSEPH WILMOT; OK, THE MEM0IE3 OP A MAN-SERVANT.

former speaking with a quick anxiety, and the
latter with a shuddering nervousaess.

"Yes — Dorchester has told me much — very
mvich .'" I rejoined ; " and it is here that I am de-
termined to know the rest. Yet why should I
keep you iu any suspense as to the mode in which
I discovered the tremendous cheat — the awful
drama that was enacted in order to cheat justice of
her due, and restore this man "—pointing to Lan-
over — " to the enjoyment of liberty ! Know, then,
that I was an inhabitant of the villa near the
cemetery "

Here the wretched humpback gave a hollow
groan and literally writhed in the bed, as if in an
appalling horror which smote him at the bare re-
collection of what he had gone through.

" Yes," I continued; " I was an inmate of that
villa near the cemetery — I beheld the light in the
burial-ground— I stole forth— I drew near the spot
—I saw you, my lord, in your cloak — I saw the
whole proceeding — the exhumation — the surgeon's

arrival — the succour he lent Oh 1 yes, I saw it

all !"

Lanover again groaned heavily ; and the Coun-
tess, sinking upon a seat, wrung her hands as if in
utter despair. The Earl stood motionless— deadly
pale, ghastly, his eyes fixed upon me. It was a
scene that I never, never, can forget.

" But why did you conceal yourself in that
villa?" asked the nobleman at length breaking
silence. " What did you suspect ? what clue had
you ? Tell me, Joseph "

" I have already told you enough!" I ejaculated
vehemently. " It is now for you to speak ! —
your turn has come ! Tell me everything ! Far-
ther delay is useless — my resolve is taken — nothing
can alter it — nothing can now arrest me in the in-
vestigation of all the circumstances which so inti-
mately regard myself!"

" Will you dismiss those men ?" asked the Earl
suddenly : " for I no longer believe them to be
police-ofBcials. They are persons whom you have
engaged to help you in this matter. Is it not

BO?"

" Pardon me, my lord," I said, " for refusing to
dismiss those persons until I learn all that I seek

to know. But yet— but yet Ah ! my lord, it

is as well to inform you that I have a powerful
friend — a friend who has aided me most ganerously
— most effectually^—"

" The Count of Livorno ?" said the Earl in the
quick tone of anxious inquiry.

" The same : there is no necessity to deny nor
conceal it. And," I added significantly, " he is
acquainted with my proceedings — though absent,
he has his eye upon me — he watches over me "

" Good heavens, Joseph!" ejaculated the Coun-
tess, starting up wildly: "do you — do you suspect
that any one would seek to injure you here ?"

" No, no — be does not suspect it !" cried the
Earl, with a nervous movement.

" I have a right to suspect everything," I said,
" at the hands of Jiim at least ;" and I pointed to-
wards Lanover.

" He is powerless — you see he is !" cried the
Countess : " he is ill — he is prostrate— and where I
am, Joseph "

" Hush, Clara — hush, I command you !" inter-
rupted the Earl, suddenly recovering his self-
possession — or at all events, the courage of

desperation. " What care we for his discovery ot
the secret in respect to Lanover ? Is not this an-
other State? The Austrian authorities cannot
take cognizance of what occurred iu Tuscany !"

" Nor have I threatened you on that score !" I
answered. " Good heavens ! I seek not to do you
harm ! My only object is to right myself ! If I
meant mischievously or revengefully towards you,
my lord, I might long ago have said and done
things which would at least have covered you with
shame, even if they had not absolutely endangered
you! Ah, and in England — under the Eaglish
law ■"

" In a word, Joseph," interrupted the Earl of
Eccleston, now assuming all his hauteur, "you
have got some wild crotchets in your head "

"Will t/ou say the same?" I asked, almost bit-
terly, thus addressing myself to the Countess.
" No, no — you dare not ! Nor you, sir — no, nor
you!" I added, now flinging my looks upon Lan-
over.

" As for what Dorchester may have told you,"
continued the Earl, quickly, " it is valueless ! He
is an unprincipled man who will serve any one's
purposes — flatter any one's hopes — delude any
one's mind, just as it may suit him at the moment !
I tell you, Joseph Wilmot, that if you persist in
these visionary schemes — these idle notions "

" My lord, one word in your ear !" I suddenly
ejaculated : for I was now well nigh goaded to
desperation — and yet I wished to save the feelings
of the Countess as much as possible— or else I
should not have yielded to this long, this distress-
ing, this most painful parley. " Step aside with
me for a moment."

The chamber was spacious; and the Earl suf-
fered himself to be drawn by me into the corner
that was remotest from the bed in which the
humpback lay, and near which the Countess had
sank back again upon a seat. I saw that the Earl
of Eecleston's countenance now exhibited a fresh
anxiety, as if he were full of torturing suspense to
learn what new thing I had now to communicate.

"My lord," I said, in a low deep whisper, " that
man Lanover — that miscreant whom you have so
long an 1 so often used as the instrument of your
dark persecutions against myself, — that man, I
say, once strove to take my life— —yes, to murder
me ! — and you know it !"

Nothing could exceed tho awful, horrible,
ghastly look which the Earl of Eccleston bent
upon me as I thus addressed him; — and I kept
my eyes riveted on his countenance, as much as to
imply, or to make him understand that I had no
doubt as to the truth of the statements I had just
proclaimed in that low deep whisper.

" Joseph," said the Earl at length, — and his
voice was scarcely audible, — " it is impossible to
contend against you. But hear' pie! — hear me, I
beseech ! — and do what I implore of you ! Will
you promise me this ?" ''^,

" Proceed, my lord," I said : " fviin pledge my-
self to nothing, until I learn what your intentions
— or rather," I hastily corrected myself, " what
your proposals are. But I am not unreosonablo

Oh ! you can well understand lohy I am not

unreasonable — and why, no.twithstanding all the
past, I am anxious to spare you — and her "—
glancing towards the Countess— "as much as pos-
sible !"

"Listen, Josepb," continued the Earl. "Every-
thing shall be as you say — everything shall be re-
vealed ! Yes— the time for mystery is gone by —
I see that it is ! But all that I have to tell you
must be supported by documentary proofs — and
these proofs I have not here ! They are in Eng-
land. Will you leave us now ? will you return to
England ? will you meet me in London three
n eeks hence ? I then pledge myself that every-
thing shall be revealed — all shall be made known
to you— and all, moreover, shall be verified and
established by such papers as it will then and there
be in my power to produce."

I hesitated what answer to give : I almost felt
that if I responded in the affirmative, and agreed
to the course thus suggested, I should be letting
an advantage slip out of my hand.

" It can make no difltercnce to you," continued
the Earl, " beyond the mere prolongation of your
uncertainty and suspense. You have discovered
94

all that has been done in respect to Lanover — and
you can proclaim my complicity in that deed— yes,
you can proclaim it as well in England as in Lorn-
bardy, if I deceive you. Do you not therefore see
that whatsoever power you here exercise over mo,
will be equally available for your purpose in our
own country ? And even more so— because I
might better defy you abroar!, in a foreign land,
than I could at home. I ask but this delay of
three weeks — I have now no object to gain — no
ulterior one I mean. But I would rather speak on
the spot where all my explanations can be backed
by documents, than speak here, in a foreign city,
where I have no proofs to lay before you. Now
Joseph — your decision ? — what is it ?"

Still I hesitated— for still the thought was in my
mind that if I consented to the Earl's proposition,
I should be letting an advantage slip out of my
hand — an advantage which being already gained,
might not, if lost, be so easily recovered. But at

330

JOSEPH WILirOT; OE, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-3EBVANT.

that instant I perceived the Countess gazing upon
me with looks of the most earnest entreaty,—
looks so full of a plaintiye appeal that my heart
was moved ; and I said in a whisper to the Earl,
" If her ladyship will echo your pledge and repeat
the assurance you have just given me, I will assent
to the proposition."

The Earl of Eccleston beckoned his wife to-
wards us ; and as she drew near, the colour went
and came in rapid transition upon her face : she
now looked at me with the glitter of uneasiness
and uncertainty in her eyes : she was full of agita-
tion and suspense.

" Clara," said the Earl, " I have pledged myself
to Joseph that if he will now take his departure
and create no farther scandal in respect to the
presence of Lanover in this house — and if he will
in due course proceed to England, whither we our-
selves shall be shortly bound— we will there meet
him, and we will there give him all explanations.
I have said that a delay of only three weeks need
take place ere this be done ; and Joseph requires
from your lips a reiteration of the assurance which
has thus emanaied from mine."

"Yes, Joseph," said the Countess, trembling
with nervous agitation ; " so far as it depends
upon me, this arrangement shall be carried out.
Ob, I pledge myself that it shall !"

" In that case," I responded, " the proposal you
have made me, my lord, shall be accepted. But,
Oh ! wherefore not say one word — only one
word "

" Yes, one word," murmured the Countess, look-
ing appealingly to her husband.

"Let the proposal which has been made and ac-
cepted, stand precisely as it is," said the Earl.
"Three weeks will soon pass away; and then shall
everything be made known, Joseph. But Ah ! by
the bye, tell me where you are to be found in Lon-
don; so that I may lose no time, on our own
arrival there, in intimating that the moment has
come for you to call upon us and receive the fullest
explanations."

I named the hotel in Holborn where I had
stayed on former occasions ; and the Earl wrote
the address down in his pocket-book. The busi-
ness was now completed: but still I lingered — still
I tarried in that chamber : I wanted to say more
— my mind was full of ineffuble feelings : it ap-
peared as if an invisible hand were holding me
back when I was about to take my departure. I
looked at the Earl : his countenance was calm and
mournful. I looked at her ladyship : her coun-
tenance was indicative of deep inward agitation.
Thep I looked towards Lanover: but the shade of
the bed curtain prevented me from catching the
precise expression of his features at the moment.

"Joseph," whispered the Earl, " every instant
that you remain here only adds to our embarrass-
ment and perplexity ! And remember that my
domestics will think strangely of all these proceed-
ings "

" You have his lordship's pledge, Joseph," mur-
mured the Countess ; " and you have mine — yes,
mine also," she emphatically added, at the same
time profifering me her hand.

I took that hand with eagerness — aye, with rap-
ture ; and I pressed it warmly. Then the Earl
gave me his hand : and I took it likewise. Ah,
reader! you may start that I should have done so

after all the persecutions, the unkindnesses, and
the treacheries which I had experienced from him :
but perhaps you cannot guess what was passins in
my mind.

I had no farther excuse for delay ; and I hur-
ried from the room without flinging another look
upon the miscreant Lanover — that wretch who so
to speak had been resuscitated from the grave !

Our party was soon collected; and we returned
to the hotel. There I liberally rewarded my
assistants in the memorable expedition : but espe-
cially towards the landlord's intelligent son Leo
was my bounty displayed. As for explanation, I
simply informed him that I had succeeded in my
object; and the faithful young man was well
pleased at this intelligence. I retired to rest : but
it was long before sleep visited my eyes; for
heaven knows I had sufficient to think of, and the
topics of my thoughts were replete with a vividly
interesting variety.

On the following day I wrote to the Count of
Livorno a full narrative of all that had occurred,
— adding that I was about to return to England,
and naming the hotel in Holborn where I pur-
posed to take up my quarters, and where I should
be delighted to receive a letter from him. I then
set out on my journey towards my own native
country.

CHAPTER CXLVIL

THE SCOTCH LADY.

It was on the tenth dsy after leaving Milan that
I reached Paris ; and as I had still plenty of time
oa baud before the lapse of the three weeks speci-
fied by the Earl of Eccleston, I resolved to remain
for a few days in the Preuch capital. I took up
my quarters at Meurice's Hotel ; and on thus in-
stalling myself there, 1 could not help reflecting
with feelings of astonishment on the rapid succes-
sion of startling incidents which had occurred
since the first occasion of my setting foot in that
establishment. There I had arrived, on that first
occasion, with a considerable sum of money in my
pocket : there was I swindled by Dorchester — and
thence was I compelled to pass into a menial posi-
tion in the service of the Due de Paulin. Isow I
returned to this same hotel — again with ample
funds at my command — and with my mind so en-
larged by the experiences gleaned in the interval,
that I felt as if all I had at first knowp was sheer
ignorance in comparison with the view which I
was now enabled to take of the world at large and
of the human character.

On the first day of my arrival at Meurice's
Hotel, I dined at the table d'hote at five o'clock;
and, as usual, the company, to the number of about
fifty, was composed of about two-thirds English
and one-third French. I happened to sit next to
an elderly lady who had a younger one with her;
and this younger one I presently discovered to be
the toady or companion of the first-mentioned
dame. The latter was elderly, as I have already
said : but to be more explicit, she might be about
fifty. She was exceedingly stout ; and it was not
difficult to imagine that the buxom beauty of an
earlier period had expanded into the somcwhut

JOSEPH WIIMOT; OB, THB MEMOIBS OP A MAN-SERVANT.

331

obese emhonpoint of matured womanhood. She
had certainly been good-looking in the face : -but
her features were now somewhat coarse, and her
cheeks had a redness which seemed to imply that
if not actually intemperate, she was not altogether
a teetotaller. She was very gaudily dressed — had
a profusion of jewellery about her — and her man-
ners, if not absolutely vulgar, were certainly not
particularly polished. But she was very good-
humoured in her conversation, and was evidently
of a good-natured disposition. I should observe
that she spoke with an unmistakable Scotch
accent : she laughed a great deal ; but this was
probably to display a set of teeth that were par-
ticularly well preserved.

Her companion, whom I have denominated a
toady, was about twenty years younger — that ia to
say, about thirty ; and in many respects she re-
minded me of that abominable Miss Dakin of
whom I have spoken in some of the earliest chap-
ters of my narrative, and who behaved so spitefully
towards me when I was a humble page in the
service of the Tivertons. Miss Cornwall, the
Scotchwoman's companion, was a little thin ugly
creature, pitted with the small-pox, and having a
very red nose. She evidently strove to flatter her
mistress as much as possible ; and as the elderly
dame was somewhat conceited and vain. Miss
Cornwall's homage and adulation were by no
means unwelcome to their object. At the very
outset of the conversation which I overheard be-
tween them, while sitting nest to them at the
table d'hote, I gathered that the toady's name was
Miss Cornwall : but it was not until the lapse of
a day or two, as the reader will presently see, that
I happened to learn the name of the elderly Scotch
lady herself.

"And pray, sir, how long have you been in
Paris ?" said the Scotch lady to me, after I had
rendered her some little attention in the inter-
courses of the "dinner- table.

"I only arrived this morning," was my answer:
" but it is not my first visit to the French capital.
Indeed, I am well acquainted with Paris."

" And so are you, my dear madam," observed
Miss Cornwall, affecting a half-whisper, but speak-
ing in such a way that I should overhear what
was said. " Let me see ? This is our fourth visit
to this gay city during the last ten years. Dear
me ! Only fancy ! Por ten whole years have I
benefited by your kindness and profited by your
example ! Ah, my dear madam ! what should I
have been without you?"

"Well, my dear Miss Cornwall," replied the
Scotch lady, " you have been very kind and at-
tentive to me — and prevented me from feeling
lonely."

"Lonely, my dear madam?" interjected Miss
Cornwall deprecatingly : " how could one like you
possibly feel lonely ? Excuse me for what I am
going to say — because you know I never pay com-
pliments— I hate flattery— but redly you must ad-
mit that your fascinating manners, your pleasing

conversation, and your beauty too "

" Ah, my beauty, my dear Miss Cornwall," said
the elderly dame, laughing : " the time for that
has gone by."

" How can you say so, my dear madam.?" inter-
rupted Miss Cornwall, as if almost indignantly.
" I am sure that you may hold up your head

along with the best and proudest of our ses;
and excuse me for observing that a finer set of
teeth "

" Well, well. Miss Cornwall, I have taken caro
of myself, you know," said the Scotch dame.

I thought very likely that she spoke the truth;
inasmuch as she was certainly taking care of her-
self on the present occasion; for she ate with
enormous appetite, and was doing most ample
justice to soup, fish, flesh, fowl, and sweets ; while
the colour on her cheeks was heiijhtening under
the influence of sundry glasses of bordeaux and
champagne.

" Of course you take care of yourself, my deair
madam," said Miss Cornwall. " A lady with six
hundred a year " — and here the toady glanoed to-
wards me to see if I overheard what was being
purposely said for my special behoof — " and the
sweetest, prettiest, charmingest villa in the fashion-
able neighbourhood of Brompton — with a whole
host of friends too — gentlemen of rank and ladies
of quality — three female servants — and the loveliest
little pony-phaeton that ever was seen "

" Well, well, my dear Miss Cornwall," inter-
rupted the Scotch dame, with another joyous
laugh ; " I certainly have a sufficiency of worldly
comforts."

'■■ And you might say without boasting, my dear
madam," interjected the toady, " that if you have
not again changed yoar name, it has not been for
want of good ofl^ers. You know I do not flatter-
but there was Sir Simon Tadcaster, the dashing
Baronet "

" Ah, poor fellow !" said the Scotch dame ; " it
was a great pity he should have turned out to be
no Baronet at all."

Here I noticed that Miss Cornwall became quite
red in the face ; and a quick " Hush !" reached
my ears : for the Scotch dame, most probably in
her unsophisticated truthfulness, had thus let out
something which destroyed the grand effect that
Miss Cornwall had intended to produce upon my-
self and one or two others who were within the
range of hearing.

" You know, my dear madam," the toady has-
tened to say, " it always was my conviction tliat
this was a mere malignant report got up by Sir
Simon's rivals. I always suspected Lord Hoaxley
to have been at the bottom of it : for you know I
never flatter — but his lordship was desperately
enamoured of you at the time. And don't you
remember the pic-nic he gave us in the wood ad-
joining his beautiful little mansion at Twicken-
ham ?"

"Ah ! it was a nice house— a very nice house,"
said the Scotch lady. " Poor Hoaxley ! he must
have felt the change to the Bench very much."

" Let me help you to some dessert," said Miss
Cornwall, speaking very sharp and very quick, and
her face again becoming red with contusion, as
there was a ttter amongst the guests in her imme-
diate neighbourhood: then she whispered some-
thing in a hasty manner to her stout patroness.

" Well, my dear Miss Cornwall," observed the
dame, "you know it was the truth that I said;
and it was too bad of Lord Hoaxley to put the
hundred pounds I lent him into his schedule— or
whatever they call it — when he went through the
Insolvents' Court."

In this manner did the conversation between

332

JOSEPH Wn>MOT; OB, THE MZMOmS Of A MAU-SEBTAlTr.

the two ladies continue until thej rose from the
table, " to take a box," as iliss Cornwall audibly
proclaimed, at one of the principal theatres. At
first the ludicrous idea had struck me that thej
■were husband-hunters, though the age of one and
the appearance of the other might certainly mili-
tate against the success of such speculative enter-
pri5es. But as the discourse had progressed, I
felt assured that I was mistaken,- inasmuch as the
Scotch dame, bj her somewhat unnecessary frank-
nfsij so completely neutralized the silly attempts
of Miss Cornwall to show her oflF in very fine
colours. The elderly lady was vain and loved flat-
tery : but she was evidently too honest and blunt
in her disposition, and likewise too stolidly explicit,
to let her toady's adulation always flow unchecked
in its channel. I therefore came to the conclusion
that I had been thrown in the way of a foolish old
dame, tolerably comfortable in her circumstances,
and possessing a toady whose great ambition it
was to shine in the borrowed light wherewith she
strove to invest her patroness. I was half in-
clined to ask one of the waiters who the elderly
lady was : but the idea of exhibiting any curiosity
on the point struck me as something too ludicrous ;
and I therefore abstained from any such inquiry.

On the following day I beheld the dame, the
toady, and a flauntingly dressed maid, going out
in a hired carriage, evidently on a tour to visit
the " lions" of Paris. In the evening of that
second day, I again beheld the ladies at the tahle
d'hote : but I was careful not to take a seat near
them— for I was tired of the silly discourse of Miss
Cornwall.

It was at the table d'hote in the evening of the
third day, that I happened to sit next to an old
Scotch gentleman, who had arrived in Paris in the
morning on some professional business ; for in the
course of conversation he informed me that he was
a writer to the signet. On this occasion we sat
near one extremity of the long table, while the
Scotch dame and her toady sate at the other end.
Thus the routine of the dinner had nearly passed
before my new Scotch acquaintance bad particu-
larly noticed the two ladies just referred to. But
all of a sudden I observed that he began to eye
them — or at least one of them — with great atten-
tion : he leant forward — he put up his glasses —
and then he muttered to himself, " Well, surely it
must be the same ?"

" Do you recognise any one whom you know r"
I asked. " There is a countrywoman of yours at
the other extremity of the table "

" Ah ! then she is a Scotchwoman ?" said the
old gentleman inquiringly.

" Yes : that I can positively declare she is !" was
my response : " for I sate next to her the day be-
fore yesterday."

" And what is her name ?" asked the Scotch
gentleman quickly.

" I really do not know," I replied. " But whom
do you take her to be ?"

"Well," rejoined the Scotchman, "even if I re-
cognise her personally, I cannot for the life of me
recall the name which she used to bear : and it is
very probable that she now passes by another."

"Then let us ask one of the waiters," I sug-
gested ; " and we shall learn in a minute "

" No, no !" interrupted the writer to the signet :
" we will do nothing of the sort :" — and then he

added, more in a musing tone to himself than as
if actually addressing himself to me, "Even if my
suspicion be correct, I will let the matter rest : for
she behaved honourably enough to us all."

I was about to ask the gentleman whether the
elderly dame was a suspicious character : but I
thought that I had no right to exhibit an imper-
tinent curiosity — though I must candidly confess
that I had become more or less interested on the
point; and I could not prevent myself from gazing
upon him with a look of inquiry.

" I see," continued the Scotch gentleman in a
whispering tone, " that I have inadvertently said
too much — and I must not therefore purposely say
too little : for if eo, I may leave unpleasant im-
pressions on your mind with regard to that lady.
I feel convinced that you are a young gentleman
of honour ; and therefore you will regard as con-
fidential what I am about to tell you. Besides, I
am by no means sure that this lady is the same as
the woman to whom I am about to refer ; and
therefore my uncertainty on the point must be an-
other reason for the exercise of discretion."

" I can faithfully promise you," I answered,
" that whatsoever you tell me, shall be regarded
as perfectly confidential."

" The story is brief enough, and has something
ludicrous in it," proceeded the Scotch gentleman.
'■ Several years ago, in Edinburgh, there was a
woman — I can't for the life of me recollect her
name — who kept a lodging-house. It was a very
respectable house ; and she at the time was a
buxom, good-humoured, bustling widow. The
longer I look at that lady there, the more I am
convinced — Well, but never mind ! — let me con-
tinue my story. I have already told you that I
am a lawyer; and whatsoever little law business
the lodging-housekeeper might have to transact,
was done by me. In a word, I was her solicitor.
She was thrifty — but too good-natured, and too
much inclined to believe any tale that was told
her. By dint of economy she accumulated a
matter of some five or six hundred pounds ; and I
placed it out at interest for her. On an evil day
she fell in with some designing speculator, who
under the fiction of projecting a new canal, was
fleeciug the good people of Edinburgh. Dazzled
by the brilliant promises which he held out —
twenty per cent, for money advanced, and all that
sort of thing — the widow was determined to en-
trust her little capital to the speculator. I knew
not at the time that he was a rogue ; and there-
fore I remonstrated but feebly against the course
which she sought to pursue. She confided to him
the whole of her savings; and one fine morning
the speculator vanished. The widow came to me
in the utmost tribulation. Things had been going
wrong with her. On the faith of the speculator's
promises, she had taken a larger house and had
furnished it handsomely : then a tide of ill-luck
had set in against her — her apartments remained
unlet — her upholsterer's bills were unpaid — she
was in arrears with rent — and all her tradesmen
had reason to complain that the widow, once so
punctual, was now unable to satisfy their demands.
Having full faith in her integrity, I advanced
her a hundred pounds: but things, after being
temporarily patched up, went wrong with the
widow again: and one fine morning she likewise
vanished "

JOSEPH WIIMOT; OE, THE MEMOIRS OV A MAN-SEKVANT.

333

" As the speculator had done before her," I in-
terjected.

"Just so," continued the Scotch gentleman.
"We!!, I of course gave up my hundred pounds to
be as good as lost — and all the more so, when at
the expiration of a few weeks, it was rumoured
that the poor widow had died of a broken heart
and in great distress at Glasgow. The whole
matter slipped out of my memory in process of
time— until perhaps five or six years afterwards,

when I received a letter and who do you think

it was from? It was from the widow herself. It
was dated from London, and contained a bank-bill
for my hundred pounds, with all the arrears of
interest liberally computed and added on. The
widow informed me in this letter that on leaving
Edinburgh she had taken refuge with n poor rela-
tion at Glasgow, and that in consequence of one
day espying a couple of her Edinburgh creditors
walking through the streets of the other city, she
was 80 desperately frightened that she had got her
poor relation to write to another relative of their's
in Edinburgh, to spread a report of her death, — a
proceeding which appeared the only means of sav-
ing her from the horrors of a debtors' gaol. That
relation at Glasgow became unable to keep the
widow, who accordingly repaired to London to seek
her fortune in the British metropolis. She ob-
tained a situation as companion to an elderly lady,
who had once lodged with her for a considerable
time in Edinburgh. Thus a few years passed — at
the expiration of which the elderly lady dying, and
having no relative in the whole world,, left her pro-
perty to the widow, — who, we may suppose, had
rendered herself very agreeable and had ministered
most kindly to her patroness. The very first use
the honest widow made of this remarkable turn in
the wheel of fortune, was to remit me the whole
amount of my claim, in the manner I have de-
scribed."

'■ I do not therefore wonder," I observed, " that
if that lady at the end of the table be really the
same, you should so considerately abstain from
making any inquiry which, if it reached her ears,
would seem to threaten exposure of the past. But
pray continue your narrative : it interests me."

" The letter I received from the widow," said
the writer to the signet, " and which contained the
remittance, requested me to ascertain who of her
creditors were still alive, in order that she might
settle their claims : but as the report of her death
had been originally circulated, she did not wish to
brand herself with the fraud of having been a
party to that deceptive rumour. In making my
inquiries, therefore, amongst the surviving cre-
ditors, I merely said that a relation of the deceased
widow felt disposed to liquidate her liabilities. I
sent her a list thereof : she at once remitted me
the amount— and thus her debts were honourably
settled. Now, my dear sir, you have my story";
and if there be something ludicrous in the idea of
the rumoured death, there is also something highly
creditable to the widow herself in her subsequent
conduct."

" Do you think," I inquired, " that if the lady
at the other end of the table "

But I stopped short: for as I glanced in the
direction where the Scotch dame and her toady had
hitherto been seated, I now observed that they
were gone.

"I saw thein leave the room a few minutes
back," said my Scotch acquaintance : " and the
elderly lady did not recognise me : but I am more
than ever sure that she is really the same as the
widow of whom I have been speaking."

At this moment a gentleman with whom my
Scotch friend was acquainted, and relative to whose
business he had come to Paris, entered the table
d'hote room ; so that our conversation was cut
short — and I went away to beguile an hour or two
at some theatre. It was about half-past ten when
I returned to the hotel ; and on entering the cofiee-
room, whom should I behold seated at a table
copiously spread with dishes and bottles, but Do-
minie Clackmannan and Mr. Saltcoats? The
latter flung down his knife and fork, and begaL
shouting and clapping his hands in such an up-
roarious style, that all the other guests in the room
were startled with astonishment ; and one nervous
old gentleman was nearly iiightened into a fit. As
for the Dominie, — he first rolled himself lazily
about in his chair, taking three or four pinches of
snuft' in succession; and then he observed, "It's
just that. I had a presentiment that we should
meet young Owlhead here this evening."

" Nonsense, Dominie, with your Owlheads !"
vociferated Saltcoats. " It is our friend young
Wilmot, who left us the other day at Florence ;
and I'm right glad to meet him again. How are
you, Joseph my boy ?"

"It's just that," said the Dominie, now profier-
ing me his hand in his turn. " I knew it was
Joseph, because the shape of his nose is so different
from young Owlhead's. And that reminds me of
something the Widow Glenbucket said one day to
a beggarman, who had no nose at all, and who

asked her for a penny to buy snuff No it

couldn't have been snuff; because if he had no
nose, snuff would have been useless to him — as I
would undertake to prove to any reasonable man
in the course of an hour's argument."

" Come, sit down with us, Joseph," exclaimed
Saltcoats : " there's lots of good things upon the
table."

" You know, my dear friend," I said, " that I
never take supper."

" Then it's the very best reason for your turning
over a new and a better leaf!"

"It's just that," said the Dominie. " If it
wasn't for suppers I don't know what would be-
come of the London beggars: for I'm credibly in-
formed that they never eat dinners, but reserve
themselves altogether for the suppers. And that
reminds me of something which happened at the
Laird of Tintosquashdale's ■"

" How strange it is, Joseph," cried Mr. Salt-
coats, "that we are always falling in with you in
this manner ! The Dominie, you see, got heartily
sick of Italy "

"It's just that," said Mr. Clackmannan : "for
one couldn't always be eating dishes that one didn't
know the name of. It's the next worse thing Jo
having no dishes at all. But you don't happen to
have a Finnan haddock in your pocket, Joseph —
do you ?"

"How absurd you are, Dominie!" exclaimed
Mr. Saltcoats, with an uproarious laugh.

" It's just this, that I am not absurd," responded
the Dominia: "for wasn't that idle vagabond
Archie Goosegreese dways going about the Aber-

334

JOSEPH "WILMOT; OE, THE MEMOIBS OF A MAK-SEEVAXT.

deen markets filling bis pockets with haddocks,
until he was brought up before my very particular
friend Baillie Owlhead of the Gallowgate, who sent
him to the Tolbooth ? And that reminds me of
what the Widow Glenbucket "

" Eat and drink, Dominie," interrupted Salt-
coats, '•' and leave the Widow Glenbucket to re-
pose quietly in her grave, where she has been for
so many years. I do believe that you are in love
with her image !"

" It's just that," said the Dominie ; "and when
I inherited my ancestral property the other day,
I should certainly have offered her a pinch of

" Well, sir," said the widow, brightening up,
" but who Dear me, Miss Cornwaii !" she con-
tinued, now addressing the toady who had just
joined us ; "I am so flurried ! If I had but a

leetJe drop of bran water, I mean ! This

young gentleman "

" For shame of you, sir !" crie i the toady, dart-
ing a fierce look upon me. " How dare you say
anything improper to a lady who has the highest
connections ? If you mean what is fair and
honourable, sir "

"Don't scold him. Miss Cornwall," interrupted
Mrs. Glenbucket : " he meant no harm. What ho

snuff 1 mean my hand— only she is dead. Of was saying was only natural enough "

course I didn't mean the snuff — because she never " To be sure, my dear madam !" hastily inter-
took it. And that reminds me But I forget : posed the toady. " How coXild he be otherwise

■what I was going to say — I know it was something j than struck by your appearance ? And as for

good — and I will tell you presently."

Meanwhile Mr. Saltcoats had resumed his place
at table, and I had likewise sat down — but not to
join in the banquet. A waiter now entered the
room, and brought me a small parcel of some goods
which I had purchased at a neighbouring shop
before returning to the hotel. I had ordered the
bill to be sent round, as I had not change enough
io my purse at the time to liquidate it. I begged
my friends to excuse me for a few minutes ; and
I hastened up to my chamber to procure the re-
quisite money. On descending, I paid the trades-
man his demand; and he was signing me the
receipt in the porter's lodge, when a carriage
entered the court-yard of the hotel. It was a
hired equipage ; and from it alighted the Scotch
dame and her toady, who were retiu'ning from the
theatre. The toady came to the porter's lodge and
asked if there were any letters. The porter took
down several from a shelf; and saying, " There is
one," — presented it to Miss Cornwall.

Without intending to be impertinently curious,
without indeed having any ulterior purpose in
view — but simply in a listless mechanical manner,
I happened to glance at the address on the letter
thus handed to the toady ; and what was my sur-
prise on perceiving that it was directed to
" Madame Glenbucket." I started with sudden
amazement : the Scotch lawyer's tale came rushing
back to my memory ; and darting from the porter's
lodge, I flew to the spot where the Scotch dame
was waiting at the foot of a staircase for the re-
turn of her toady.

" A thousand pardons, madam," I said, " for the
seeming impertinence of the question : but have I
the honour of addressing Mrs, Glenbucket P"

"To be sure, sir — that is my name," she an-
swered, good-humouredly.

" And may I inquire whether you once lived in
Edinburgh — and whether "

But I stopped short: for I perceived that the
widow's countenance, already rubicund enough,
became redder still ; and I was at once made aware
that I had rushed precipitately upon delicate ground,
instead of approaching it gently and cautiously.

" Well, sir," she said, somewhat tartly, in spite
of her habitual good-humour, " and what if I did
once live in Edinburgh ? — what then ?"

" Simply, madam," I responded, " that I may
be enabled to introduce you to some old acquaint-
ances. Pray do not look offended : all that I
know of you is far more to your credit than other-
wise "

choosing the bottom of a staircase communicating
with the court-yard of an hotel for popping the
question, it's the most romantic thing I ever knew
in all my life. But what is the young gentleman's
name ?"

" I really don't know his name," answered the
Widow Glenbucket, laughing good humouredly at
the error into which the toady had evidently leapt.

" But as for popping the question "

" Oh dear me, no ! it has really nothing to do with
the name !" said Miss Cornwall. •' Of course it's
all natural enough : we shall know his name by

and bye. I have no doubt it is a pretty one

Plantagenet or Jones — Tudor or Smith — Cavendish
or Simkins."

" Miss Cornwall bad been rushing on in her
parlance with exceeding volubility ; and I could
not help smiling at the consummate art with which
she prepared her mistress and herself to admire
my name, whatever it might be — whether belong,
ing to aristocracy's highest range of nomenclature,
or whether to the commonest plebeian order. But
I now managed to slip in a word edgeways ; and
with a smile I said, " I can assure you, Miss Corn-
wall, that there has been no popping the question
at all to Mrs. Glenbucket."

" Then, my dear sir," said the toady eagerly,
and aS'ecting much tender confusion, " if you have
been speaking to my dear patroness on my account,

and proposing for me to hei' "

" I can assure you, Miss Cornwall," I interrupted
her, half-good humouredly and half-ironically, "how-
ever much I might be flattered by the prospect of
such an alliance, I am not in a condition to aspire
to it."

" Jfow don't be foolish. Miss Cornwall !" said
the Widow Glenbucket : " but do hold your tongue
and let me hear what this gentleman has to say."

" May I venture to ask," I continued, " if you
remember a gentleman named Dominie Clack-
mannan— and another named Mr. Saltcoats .?"

" Do I remember them ?" exclaimed the widow,
in a perfect ecstacy of delight. " Oh, yes — that
indeed I do ! What ? the Dominie with his snuflf,
and his anecdotes, and his hard names ? And Mr.
Saltcoats who used to be so jocular and so funny —
and who ate and drank so much ?"

" And would you like to see them, Mrs. Glen-
bucket ?" I inquired.

" Is it possible that they are here ?" asked the
widow quickly : then as a sudden shade came over
her countenance, she added in a mournful voice,
" But I am afraid "

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OB, THB MEMOIEB 0? A MAN-SERVANT.

335

" Do not be afraid of anything," I rejoined. " I ,
am almost certain," I went on to say in an under- ,
tone, " that they are ignorant of the precise cir- i
curastances in which you left Edinburgh and on I
account of which your death was reported : for I
never heard either of them make the slightest
allusion to those circumstances. At all events I
will pledge my existence that they will be delighted
to see you. The Dominie is now comparatively a
rich man : Saltcoats, you know, is well off : they
have both for some time past been travelling on
the Continent — and they just now arrived at this
hotel."

" Oh ! yes. I will see them ! I shall rejoice to
see them !" exclaimed the widow.

" Where is your sitting-room ?" I inquired.

" Up this staircase, on the first-floor above the
entresol" was the widow's response. " Bring them
up ! I will order wine— punch — spirits — every-
thing of the best !"

" Well," I interrupted her, '■' hasten up-stairs
and I will bring them to you presently."

As I was turning away I saw that Miss Corn- |
wall flung at me a very spiteful glance, as if she
considered that she had been cruelly wronged and
outraged by my refusal to ofier her my hand in
marriage : and perhaps she was likewise alarmed •
lest the introduction of old friends to the Widow |
Glenbucket might somewhat impair her own in- '
fluence with the dame. For a toady invariably
seeks to sustain a gulf between her patroness and
all persons who are likely to be^-'ome intimate with
her : she conceives she has the exclusive right of
monopolizing all the smiles and favours of that
patroness ; and she consequently looks upon any I
friendly approach on the part of others as an un-
warrantable intrusion on her own property. How-
ever, little recked I for the spiteful wrath or the
selfish jealousy of Miss Cornwall ; and I hastened
back to the cofiee-room, anticipating a strange
scene from the meeting that was about to take
place.

" Your two or three minutes are rather long
ones," vociferated Saltcoats the instant I made my
appearance : and he shouted out the words with
such uproar that the nervous old gentleman already
alluded to, gave a convulsive start, and spilt half :
the contents of a tumbler of reeking punch over i
his smallclothes.

" I met somebody who particularly wishes to see '
you both," I said. " Come quick !" I

•'It's just that," said the Dominie: "I had a|
presentiment that Bailie Owlhead, Mrs. Owlhead,
and all the little Owlheads would arrive at the
hotel this evening. But as the Bailie is particu- i
larly fond of haggis and tripe — and I never saw
any in France — I should think he would go back
again the instant he finds there is none. And that
puts me in mind of what I one day said to the
Widow Glenbucket "

" Ah ! the Widow Glenbucket," I observed with
a sly smile. "You are always thinking of her !
But come quick, I repeat ! It is an old friend of
your's whom you will both be rejoiced to see."

The Dominie rolled himself oflf his chair ; and Mr.
Saltcoats vociferously expressed his opinion that
I was playing off a hoax upon himself and his
friend of souie sort or another — but that if it were
80 he would mercilessly mulct me in a bowl of
punch. I have not the slightest doubt the nervous

old gentleman was infinitely relieved and duliijhted
when we issued from the coffee-room. I led the
way across the court-yard to the staircase leadiog
up to the widow's apartment; and on reaching the
door I thought I had better give my two friends
some little preparation for the surprise they were
about to receive. I accordingly said, " It is really
no jest which I am playing off upon you : it is a
truth ! But when it bursts upon you it will fill
you with amazement as well as with delight."

" It's just that," said the Dominie : " he has
provided us a treat of haddocks, and collops, and
haggis, and tripe : and now I am sorry I ate those
three platefuls of Strasbourg pie and the half of
that chicken, to say nothing of the cold veal, down
stairs in the coffee-room. But if the Widow Glen«
bucket was alive, I would tell her "

"And she is !" I exclaimed, throwing open the
door of the apartment. '* She is alive — and she is
here !"

The effects produced upon the Dominie and Mr.
Saltcoats by my announcement, were as different
as could be well conceived. The Dominie said,
with his usual stolid imperturbable drowsiness,
"It's just that. I always knew she wasn't dead:"
— while Mr. Saltcoats at first seemed startled with
affright — but the next instant he burst into an up-
roarious shout of glee. The former rolled lazily
into the room: the latter rushed capering in; and
it was with a veritable shriek of delight that the
Widow Glenbucket waddled forward to receive
them. Let me here observe that the Dominie had no
real reason for expressing his belief that she was
not really dead : it was only one of the phases of the
manner in which his mind adapted itself, with
characteristic idiosyncracy, to whatsoever circum-
stance might occur.

Nevertheless, the worthy Mr. Clackmannan now
seized upon the widow's hand ; and with more
quickness of speech than he was wont to display,
proceeded to ask divers ridiculous questions and
make sundry equally stupid comments,

" It's just that," he said : " I knew you would
come. But how long have you been dead ? and
when was it you came alive again ? How fat and
well you are looking ! — twenty years younger than
when I saw you last ! But where have you been
ever since you died ? and why didn't you write
and let me know that you were not dead at all ?
And that reminds me of what I said to you the
very last time we met "

" I remember all about it. Dominie '." said the
Widow Glenbucket, warmly pressing the old
gentleman's hand. "And howdoyo?tdo? And
you too, Mr. Saltcoats ? Oh, fie for shame !"

These last ejaculations were evoked from the
widow's lips just at the instant that the said lips
were about to be pressed by those of Mr. Saltcoats.
Then Mr. Saltcoats, having thus far relieved his
feelings by embracing the widow, rushed forward
like an ecstatic madman and embraced Miss Corn-
wall likewise : then he flung his hat up to the
ceiling, and as it descended, playfully used it as a
football — kicking in the crown, and ruining that
grey felt beaver beyond redemption. Thus he
went on capering and leaping, and performing a
thousand antics about the room— giving vent the
while to ejaculations of uproarious exultation—
until after an ineffectual attempt to vary these
proofs of exuberant joyousness by standing on his

336

JOSEPH WILirOT ; OE, THE MEMOIKS OP A MAN-SEHVANT.

head, he at length sank down exhausted on the
Bofa where Miss Cornwall was seated.

In a little while something like order and tran-
quillity were restored in the apartment : the
Widow Glenbucket rang the bell for wine — Salt-
coats ordered punch — the Dominie mentioned
bottled stout — Miss Cornwall suggested brandy-
and-water — and I was the only one present who
ordered nothing. The waiter who had answered
the summons, evidently thought that the best way
of escaping from the species of Babel oewilder-
ment into which the multifarious mandates
plunged him, was to bring up everything which
had been named : and therefore the table was soon
spread with as varied an assortment of drinkables
as there were tastes to gratify. The widow poured
herself out wine— Saltcoats began ladling out the
punch— the Dominie raised a tumbler of foaming
London stout to his lips — I myself took a glass of
wine — and Miss Cornwall drank a bumper of the
punch by the aid of one hand while she mixed her-
self a stinging glass of hot brandy-and-water with
the other. I whispered a hint to Saltcoats not to
question the widow as to the origin of the report
of her death some years back ; and whenever the
Dominie began to approach the subject, I managed
to turn his thoughts into another direction,

I can assure the reader it was a very jovial
party; and the best proofs to be afforded that it
was so, are to be found in the facts that when we
broke up, the Widow Glenbuckec (who, to do her
justice, was almost quite sober) had to carry off
Miss Cornwall in her arms to the bed-chamber —
a couple of waiters had to do the same by the
Dominie — while I myself {quite sober, gentle
reader) had the greatest trouble in the world in
persuading Saltcoats to go to his room instead of
descending into the courtyard of the hotel and
challenging any half-dozen Frenchmen to fight it
out. But what there was to fight out, did not
very plainly appear.

On the following day I confidentially told Salt-
coats the widow's history ; and he expressed his
admiration of her honourable conduct towards her
creditors.

" I tell you what it is, my dear Wilmot," he
added : " there shall be a wedding here before
long : the Dominie shall marry her as sure as my
name is Saltcoats! — and you must wait for the
nuptials."

" I am sorry that business will take me off to-
morrow," I responded, laughing -. " but if you
really intend to have a wedding, the Dominie will
of course bring his bride to England, and then I
shall have the pleasure of congratulating them on
the happy event. But what will you do with
Miss Cornwall, I asked? Will you take com-
passion on her, so that there may be a double
wedding?"

" Not I, indeed !" exclaimed Saltcoats ; " and
from what little I saw of her last night, I don't
think she'll remain long in her present situation.
She is an artful hussy — and for a woman, much
too fond of punch and brandy-and-water."

On the ensuing day I took leave of ray friends
at Meurice's Hotel, and set out on my journey to
London.

CHAPTER CXLVII.

TWO VISITOES.

I AEniVEn in the British metropolis, and pro-
ceeded to the hotel which I had named to the Earl
of Eccleston. I was now once more in the capital
of my native country after an absence of a year
and a half; and though the entire period of two
3'ears for which Sir Matthew had recommended
that I should be absent, had not elapsed, yet had
I the weightiest reasons for thus hastening my
return to England. Was I not about to receive
those explanations which were of the most vital
consequence to me ? — was I not standing upon the
threshold of the completest solution of the myste-
ries which had so long enveloped me, and which in
many respects had often cost me so dear ? I hoped
so : for three or four days had to elapse ere the in-
terval of three weeks, specified by the Earl of
Eccleston, should be accomplished.

It was about noon on the day after my arrival
in London — and I was thinking of repairing to
Delmar Manor in order to call upon Mr. and Mrs,
Howard — when a waiter entered my sitting-room
with the intimation that a gentleman wished to
see me. I at once desired that he might be intro-
duced ; and I found that my visitor was a middle-
aged person — short and stout — dressed in black,
with a white cravat — and his whole toilet indicat-
ing the most scrupulous neatness. He carried a
handsome gold-headed cane ; and a massive chain
with numerous seals depended from his fob. His
grey hair and whiskers were brushed sleekly in a
forward direction : ho had a mild benevolent look ;
and I was at once prepossessed in his favour. I
rose to receive him: he entered with a sort of
quick gliding elastic step ; and at once taking my
hand, said, " Allow me to introduce myself, my
dear Mr. Wilmot. I am charmed to make your
acquaintance. My name is Olding ; and 1 am an
intimate friend of the Earl of Eccleston."

" Ah !" I exclaimed, rejoiced at this announce-
ment— and all the more so, inasmuch as the cor-
dial manner in which the self-introduction was
accomplished, appeared to be indicative of the
Earl's sincerity in keeping towards me the promise
made at Milan. "You are doubtless come, Mr.
Olding, to tell me that his lordship awaits my
presence ?"

" That message, my clear Mr. Wilmot," re-
sponded Mr. Olding, " will doubtless follow close
upon our present interview. But as a friend of
the Earl — and being engaged for him profession-
ally "

" His lordship's sodcitor, I presume ?" was my
interjected remark.

" I have been requested by bis lordship," con-
tinued Mr. Olding, not heeding the interruption,
" to call and see you in the first instance

" Has his lordship returned from the Conti-
nent?" I inquired, becoming more and more fasci-
nated with the friendly — I might indeed almost
say the paternal kindness of manner which Mr.
Olding exhibited.

"My lord and her ladyship returned home
yesterday," was the answer; "and according to
the promise so solemnly and sacredly made you at

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OB, TJCB MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SEKVANT.

Milan, they have, as you see, lost no time m
sending to communicate with you."

"Then they have doubtless told you every-
thing ?" I exclaimed, judging that such was the
fact from the observation just made by my visitor.

" Assuredly, my dear Mr. Wilmot, I am com-
pletely in the Earl's confidence," replied Mr.
Olding. " Ah ! I am sorry," he continued, shaking
his head solemnly, " that you should have reason

to think 1 am alluding, you know, to certain

persecutions :" — and he eyed mo with a significant
fixity of the gaze.

"My dear sir," I exclaimed, beginning to be
tortured with impatience, "pray, for heaven's sake,
come to the point at once !"

" To be sure ! I am reaching it as quick as I
can !" exclaimed Mr. Olding with his blandest
smile. " But still it is necessary that we should
talk a little of the past "

" Wherefore of the past," I ejaculated, " when
95

all that has'occurred will be 'forgiven by me

yes, no matter to what extent those persecutions
may have gone, nor how terrible their object !"

"You possess an excellent heart, Mr. Wilmot,"
said Mr. Olding, now looking at me with a re-
newed benevolence of gaze. " I think you have
been wandering a great deal about the Continent
of late ?"

" I have, sir. But what in the name of heaven
has that to do "

"With our present business? It was only a
remark incidentally thrown in by me, and which
was to lead to the additional observation that your
experiences are very greatly enlarged by such ex-
tensive acquaintance with the world."

"They are indeed !" I exclaimed. " I can safely
gay, Mr. Olding, that though ever since I was
fifteen my life has been, so to speak, a perfect
panorama of crowded adventures — yet that during
the period I have been upon the Continent, some

338

JOSEPH WIIiMOT ; Ofi, THE MEilOIKS OF A MA:y-SEEVANT.

eighteen months or so, these adventures have
swept upon my career like a hurricane! — they
have succeeded each other with whirlwind rapi-
dity!"

" And you so young !" said Mr. Olding, with a
sigh which might be either taken for mere com-
miseration or for admiring wonder. " About
twenty-two years of age, I should guess? And
have you always had this spirit of adventure ?"

"Always had the spirit of adventure?" I ex-
claimed, marvelling at the expression. "You mis-
understand me — you seem to think that it is I who
have sought the adventures "

" Well, well," said Mr. Olding, " they forced
themselves upon you? — they overtook you? — they
involved you as it were in their own storm and
whirlwind ?"

"This is indeed but too true," I ejaculated.
" But pray, my dear sir "

" My dear Mr. Wilmot," interrupted my visitor,
" do let us have a little quiet discourse together,
so that I may know you well before we enter on
the vitally important matters "

" Oh !" I exclaimed,, now fearfully excited with
suspense ; " then you have come to me relative to
such matters ? I will endeavour to control my
impatience 1 have no doubt you have excel-
lent reasons for the course you are pursuing "

" Excellent reasons, my dear Mr. Wilmot. I
believe these persecutions which you have, alas !
so continuously sustained at the hands of the Earl
of EcclestoD, have spread themselves over several
years ?"

" Several years," I responded. "Sometimes they
ceased — then, when I saw the Earl, he would
solemnly pledge himself that they should not be
renewed — he would even quote arguments to prove
that I might consider myself thenceforth safe : but
still they nevertheless invariably recommenced !"

" And the Countess, Mr. Wilmot ?" said Olding
inquiringly.

" I have every reason to suppose," I rejoined,
"that her ladyship has all along been more favour-
ably inclined, to wards me."

"You may speak frankly, Mr. Wilmot," re-
marked Mr. Olding : "I know everything ; and if
I am thus questioning you on various points, it is
for a motive which will be hereafter explained.
You will then see how natural it was — and— and, I
believe, my dear Mr. Wilmot, that you will find me
prepared to act as one of your best and staunchest
friends."

" I thank you, my dear sir, for this assurance,"
I said : and though I was still burning with fever-
ish impatience to ascertain the precise motive of
his visit, yet I deemed it to be only consistent with
propriety and courtesy to add, " If I have exhibited
any little excitement, I beseech you to pardon
me."

" Not a syllable of apology, my dear Mr. Wil-
mot— not a sjllable !" — then drawing his chair still
closer towards mine, Mr. Olding said, "Let us con-
tinue the disccurse were we broke it off. We were
speaking of the Countess "

"Has she told you everything?" I inquired,
locking earnestly at my visitor.

" Everything I" he answered. " There have been
no secrets with me— as there are likewise to be
none with you! Indeed, I wish tbat you would
touch upon whatsoever points you consider to be

the most important, and also the most confidential,
in connexion with your own career— in connexion
likewise with the behaviour of the Earl and Coun-
tess towards you : so that there may be all the less
difficulty and embarrassment in approaching them
and in treating of them."

" Yes—- 1 see that you are indeed in the con-
fidence of the Earl and Countess," I said, im-
pressed as much by the kind benevolence of Mr.
Olding's manner as by the words that issued from
his lips. " Did the Countess tell you how she gave
me appointments in Florence P"

" To be sure," replied Olding : " and how

But pray proceed in your own way."

"And how she conjured me to quit the menial
service which I was then in — how she offered me a
handsome income . "

"Which of course you declined," interjected
Olding, — "having higher and loftier claims?"

"Yes!" 1 ejaculated, and even with a certain
degree of vehemence ; " because I was resolved
never to barter for gold the right which I possessed
to learn everything from the lips of her who thus
sought to bribe me." , ,

" And very properly reasoned," said Mr. Olding.
"It is impossible to avoid admiring your fine
spirit. But doubtless on some other occasion
Lady Eccleston "

" Behaved towards me in a way which is ever
treasured up in my own memory !" I ejaculated.
" Yes— I see that she has told you that likewise
— how at the hotel at Civita Vecchia "

"The very point to which I wished you to
come !" said Mr. Olding. " You met the Earl
and the Countess there, you know, at the time
you were engaged in the affair of the Greek pirates
—eh ?" .

"And the Countess has therefore told you," I
continued, carried on as it were by a gushing cur-
rent of the fullest confidence, "how she entered
my chamber while I slept — how she bathed my
cheeks with her tears— how she imprinted kisses
upon them "

" It was indeed an incident, my dear Mr. Wil-
mot," said Olding, speaking in a tone of most
sympathizing friendliness, " which was only too
well calculated to make a powerful impression
upon your mind. And you never thought it was
a dream "

"Perhaps at first, sir," I answered, " there were
doubts floating in my mind : but subsequently the
fact settled itself as a conviction there — and as
such has it remained. But have you not now
questioned me enough ?"

"Pray be not impatient, my dear sir," said Mr.
Olding: "we are beginning to know each other
— we shall soon understand each other. The time
of persecution has gone by— and you are about to
enter on the knowledge of those mysteries "

" Oh, at once ! at once !" I ejaculated vehe-
mently. " You know not what pain and torture
it gives me to be thus compelled to restrain my
impatience !"

" And yet, my dear sir," said Olding, " having
passed through so many perilous and fearful ad-
ventures, you must surely have learnt to discipline
your feelings."

" Yes— in all other respects but this .'" I ex-
claimed : " and here it is impossible ! Do you
know, sir, that on many aa occasion has my life

JOSEPH TVILMOT ; OE, THE STEMOIBB OF A MATT-SERVANT.

339

been in danger — at the hands of man, and on the
part of the elements,— in London— amidst the

Apennines— and on the ocean aye, and I maj

even add in duel and in battle !"

" Ah ! battte indeed ?" said Mr. Olding, with an
air of the deepest interest. " Of that incident I
certainly was ignorant."

" And I let slip from my tongue more than I
had intended," I said : " it was in the heat of dis-
course. Nevertheless, that which I stated is a
fact. No matter where or how, I have been in
the midst of a terrible conflict where cannon-balls
and bullets were raining their iron shower
around."

" Alas, my youna: friend ! you make me shud-
der," said Mr. Olding : then rising from his seat,
he added, " I must bid you farewell for the pre-
sent."

" Bid me farewell ?" I ejaculated, half in dis-
appointment, half in indignation. " It is impos-
sible ! "Was this discourse to lead to nothing ?"

" It is to lead to everything, my young friend,"
replied Olding, taking my hand and pressing it
with a fervour which seemed truly paternal. "I
have been teaching you a lesson of patience. You
are soon to hear things which must not burst upon
you all of a sudden. Remember that three or
four days are yet to elapse before the expiration
o" the interval fixed by the Earl of Eccleston. But
you are not to be kept longer in suspense than is
deemed absolutely necessary. To-morrow— at this
same hour — either myself or an equally confiden-
tial friend of the Earl of Eccleston will call upon
you; and then you will know more. Meantime,

my dear Mr. Wilmot, farewell and remember

my assurance that I entertain the liveliest interest
in your behalf."

Thus speaking, Mr. Olding wrung my hand
with even still greater warmth than he had pre-
viously displayed ; and he took bis departure. I
remained alone to reflect on all that had taken
place. It appeared to me as if there were a cer-
tain degree ot considerate kindness being observed
towards me : I was to receive revelations of a
stupendous import and I was being prepared for
them. Even if the Earl himself had been in-
capable of suggesting the propriety of such a pro-
ceeding,— yet in that proceeding might I recog-
nise the tender consideration of the Countess. It
was thus I reflected ; and though certainly disap-
pointed at not having received the revelations
which I fancied were to follow close upon that dis-
course of Mr. Olding, yet I nevertheless said to
myself, " It is all an additional proof that the Earl
is at least sincere in respect to the promise he gave
me at Milan !"

I remained for some hours in my room at the
hotel, thus abandoning myself to my meditations;
and when I went forth to walk, it was too late to
visit Deimar Manor. I retired to rest at my usual
hour, — anxious for the morrow to come, and won-
dering what it would bring forth.

The next day dawned : I rose early — but would
not leave the hotel even for an instant, for fear
lest the expected visitor should for any reason
anticipate the time fixed by Mr. Olding for his
arrival. As twelve o'clock approached, I grew
exceedingly anxious, and my mind was full of
suspense. At length, when the clocks were pro-
claiming the hour of noon, the waiter opened the

door of my apartment, and announced a Mr.
Joyce. This was a gentleman of about forty years
of age — dressed in pretty well the same style as
Mr. Olding — namely, a suit of black with a white
neckcloth. But his features were sterner and
harsher — his look was more demure ; and if there
were nothing of the dissenting parson about him,
there was a great deal of professional gravity and
solemnity of some sort or another.

Advancing towards me with a slow pace, and
making a bow which was more pespectfully cour-
teous than absolutely friendly, he however took my
hand, and said in a voice that was deep and mea-
sured, "Permit me, Mr, Wilmot, to introduce
myself to you as a confidential and very particular
friend of the Earl of Eccleston."

"You are most welcome, sir," I answered.
"Perhaps I have the honour of speaking to one of
the same legal firm whom Mr. Olding yesterday
represented ?"

"Not exactly the same firm," answered Mr.
Joyce: "but Mr. Olding and I frequently meet
together and consult on matters of importance j
and now, as both of us enjoy the honour of the
Earl of Eccleston's friendship, we are desirous to
aid that nobleman to the best of our power in
those matters which concern yourself."

"And you are therefore come, Mr. Joyce," I
said, " to "

" To have a little conversation with you," he re-
sponded.

" More conversation !" I ejaculated, quivering
with impatience and suspense. " I beseech you to
understand me, my dear sir, when I declare that I
am now fully nerved and prepared to receive any
communication which there can possibly be to im-
part. Oh ! I comprehend full well the kind con-
siderateness which is thus seeking to temper my
feelings, as it were, and attune the state of my
mind for the reception of that announcement
which is so important to myself. But does not
the Earl understand — does not the Countess under-
stand, that I have long suspected and indeed

that for some time past I have almost fully known
Yes, yes !" I interrupted myself, growing ex-
ceedingly excited, "you have but to speak out at
once, Mr. Joyce — and rest assured that the an-
nouncement will not strike me as a blow ! — it will
merely set my agitated feelings at rest !"

"Pardon me, Mr. Wilmot," said the visitor,
gravely seating himself; "I am older than you,
and understand the world better than you. You
have recently been hurried through so many
startling adventures "

" I hope,, my dear sir," I interrupted him, " that
we are not going to travel the same ground as
that which Mr. Olding took with me yesterday."

" I know nothing sir," responded Joyce, — " I
know absolutely nothing," he emphatically re-
peated, "of what took place between yourself
and Mr. Olding yesterday. Indeed I have not
seen Mr. Olding for two days past. It is at the
express desire of my Lord Eccleston that I now
call upon you."

" May I ask, Mr. Joyce," I said, " whether you
also are a professional adviser of the Earl ?"

"Yes — assuredly," was the answer given with a
sort of phlegmatic dryness. " His lordship often
consults me."

" And are you now come, Mr. Joyce," I im-

340

JOSEPH WII^MOT; OB, THB STEMOnig OP A MAN-SEBVANT.

patiently inquired, "to make certain commuiiiea-
tions to me ?"

"Not so fast, Mr. Wilmot, if you please!" in-
terrupted Mr. Joyce in a tone of authority. "You
and I are going to have a little discourse together
— quite in a friendly way, you know——"

" Indeed, I should hope," I exclaimed, " that
the Earl would not send any one to me except in
a friendly capacity !"

" Of course not," answered Mr. Joyce. " You
have suffered a great deal, Mr. Wilmot, at the
Earl's hands— have you not ?"

" Much, sir— much !" I replied, — " but not too
much to be forgiven !"

" And perhaps forgotten P" said Mr. Joyce sug-
gestively.

"A man may so far control the feelings of his
heart," I answered, '•' as to vouchsafe a sincere for-
giveness. Beside^ other circumstances ^you

doubtless know to what I alludQ may assist

him in thus influencing his heart. But to exercise
a power over the memory, and compel it to forget,
—that, you know, Mr. Joyce, as well as I can tell
you, is absolutely impossible 1 But, Oh ! hasten
and make me those communications with which
you are charged — or let me go at once with you to
the Earl !"

" Pray control your impatience, my dear youn^
gentleman," said Mr. Joyce : and taking my hand
he grasped my wrist as I thought in a somewhat
peculiar manner : but the incident was too trivial
to dwell in my memor&j and he went on to say,
" You are very young m have passed through so
many adventures — to Kkve seen so much of the
world " J*

"For heaven's sake, mjidear sir," I ejaculated,
starting up from my seat^ " do not torment me
thus ! Think you that if I^ have passed through
painful adventures, it is 6ind on your part or
agreeable on mine to have the recollection of them
thus revived ? Or again, think you that if I have
known pleasant adventures in my time, 1 am now
in a humour to feast upon those sources of happi-
ness ? In a word, Mr. Joyce "

"You excite yourself, Mr. TTilmot, to a very
unnecessary degree," interrupted my visitor, who
was himself as calm and imperturbable as a statue
— and would have looked like one too, were it not
that he had the faculty of speech. " But let us
approach the main point. Stop ! it is for me to
guide you thither — and not for you to leap preci-
pitately onward in your own fiery haste."

" Well, sir — then I will be calm : for now that
you promise to come to the point, I am satisfied :"
— and thus speaking, I resumed my seat.

" I am informed, my dear Mr. Wilmot," con-
tinued Mr. Joyce, his look and his manner now
becoming more bland and urbane, " you consider
that the Earl and Countess of Eccleston are in a
certain way — at least to some extent "

" No doubt of it !" I exclaimed, anticipating, as
I thought, the query he was about to put to me.
" But I am not the less impatient for the frank
avowal to be made and for the promised docu-
mentary evidence to be shown me. Are you come
prepared to do all this on the Earl's behalf.'' — have
you brought the papers with you ?"

" Patience, patience, Mr. Wilmot !" interrupted
my visitor : " we shall never get on at this rate,
let me put one question to you — and do try and

answer it without excitement. You have, I believ. ,
with a sort of chivalrous enthusiasm constantly
mixed yourself up iu the affairs of other persons,
— seeking to succour those who were in difficulty
or embarrassment — seeking also to punish, or at
least to frustrate the schemes of those who you
conceived to be doing wrong ?"

" What in the name of heaven does this tirade
mean ?" I exclaimed, with a sort of bewildered
indignation. "At the moment I expected you
were about to question me on some point inti-
mately connected with the hopes and aspirations
which are dearest to ray heart — at least, if not
dearest," I added, thus correcting myself, as I
thought of the lovely Annabel, concerning whom
everything was really ^7te dearest, — " I may say»e;y
dear, you fly off to an utterly different subject !"

" It is because, as the Earl of Eccleston's friend,
I experience an interest in everything which con-
cerns you," answered Mr. Joyce. " Those perse-
cutions-^—"

" Persecutions again !"— and I literally groaned
in despair at what I considered to be the pertina-
cious dogmatic obstinacy of this most annoying
individual.

" Well, well, Mr. Wilmot," he said, " if you <lo
not choose to give me any information with regard
to those persecutions, I must positively take my
leave of you."

" But it^ as you have led me to believe, you aro
in the secrets of the Earl of Eccleston," I ex-
claimed, "you must know everything! — and of
what earthly use can it be to make me recapi-
tulate matters which are infinitely painful, and
which for so many reasons I would consign to
oblivion if it were in my power ? Persecutions ?
Yes— I have experienced them! — such persecu-
tions as no one ever before experienced! Jfow,
sir — is that sufficient ?"

" Quite, Mr. Wilmot— quite," was Mr. Joyce's
answer, given with a most singular look and man-
ner. " I am really and truly sorry to have thus
been compelled to vex and annoy you: but I must
now take my leave."

" Take your leave ?" I ejaculated^ " But you
have told me nothing !"

"Ah, I forgot!" said Mr. Joyce. "This even-
ing, at five o'clock, either myself or some other
friend of the Earl will come to conduct you to his
lordship — and then, Mr. Wilmot "

"If you had told me this at first," I interrupted
him, " you would have satisfied my mind. Never-
theless, I now thank you for the intelligence. You
are sure that this promise will be kept, and that
without any farther delay, preparation, or eva-
sion "

'•■ I can promise you, my dear Mr. Wilmot,"
answered Mr. Joyce, "that this evening at five
o'clock you will be waited on by some one who
will conduct you to the Earl of Eccleston : and
then "

'• And then," I joyfully cried, " everything will
be made known!"

'•■ Be it so, my dear sir. I shall anxiously await
the hour when this important interview is to take
place."

Mr. Joyce then shook hands with me, and
quitted the apartment.

"At length," I said to myself, when the door
closed behind him, " I am standing upon the

JOSEPH WIIMOT; OB, THE MEMOIRS OV A MAN-SERVANT.

341

threshold of the most important incident of my
life. It is impossible that I can be mistaken!
Were not my conjecture strictly correct — and were
not Dorchester's surmise exactly consistent with
truth — all these preliminaries would not have been
adopted by the Earl and Countess to prepare me
for the final event. Ah ! I was wrong to exhibit
so much petulance when the subject of my perse-
cutions was mentioned to me ! I understand it
all ! One of the objects of these professional
visits on the part of Olding and of Jojc3 was to
discover the precise frame of my mind towards the
Earl and Countess— to see whether I could really
forgive the past, and whether I could even strive
to forget it ! Oh, could they doubt it ?"

I was now so agitated and so excited by the
varied feelings which filled my soul, that I expe-
rienced an absolute necessity for some vent for the
emotions of my surcharged heart, — some means of
infusing calmness into my mind. I at first thought
of walking out into the streets to while away a few
hours : but I felt that the din and bustle of Lon-
don would only add to the turmoil of my soul ; and
I accordingly sate down and penned a letter to the
Count of Livorno, in answer to a very kind one
which I had that morning received from his lord-
ship. I explained to him the full particulars of
these two visits which I had received, and which I
regarded as the preliminaries to the crowning in-
terview which was to take place at five o'clock in
the evening. I assured his lordship that" I now
felt certain I was at length standing upon the
threshold of the elucidation of all past mysteries ;
and I promised to write again on the morrow and
communicate whatsoever might have occurred.
Having finished my letter— and now feeling myself
much more calm than I previously was — I walked
forth to take it to the post, in order that I might
have an object for this ramble. The reader may
however be well assured that I returned to the
hotel somewhile before five o'clock, to be in readi-
ness there for the appointment to which I attached
so solemn an importance.

The clock was striking five when the waiter
entered my apartment, and introduced a gentle-
man whom he announced as Mr. Granby. He
might be about fifty years of age — somewhat
stouD — with an exceeding red face, showing
myriads of little purple veins beneath the skin,
as if the generous port-wine to which he was
attached had secreted itself there. He wore gold
spectacles ; and his small green eyes — somewhat
bleared — twinkled through the glasses. Like
Messrs. Olding and Joyce, he was dressed in
black : but instead of having a white cravat, he
had a black neckcloth, somewhat negligently tied.
He came with a sort of half-gilding, half-rolling
gait into the room ; and first making me what I
thought a somewhat obsequious bow, he said, " I
believe I have the honour of speaking to Mr.
"Wilmot?"

I answered in the affirmative.

" Mr. Joseph Wilmot ?" continued Mr. Granby,
accentuating the Christian name.

Again I replied in the affirmative; and I was
trembling with a nervous suspense, for fear lest
some further delay should intervene ere I was
conducted to the Earl of Eccleston.

"You expected me, Mr. Wilmot?" resumed mv
visitor inquiringly.

"Yes — I was prepared to receive you. And
you are come to take me to the Earl of Eccles-
ton?" I said.

"Just so," rejoined Mr. Granby. "My car-
riage is waiting at the door j and if you will ac-
company me "

" Oh, at once !" I joyfully ejaculated, snatching
up my hat and gloves.

We descended the stairs together ; and on
emerging from the hotel, I perceived a handsome
equipage stationed at the door. The coachman
and footman were dressed in elegant liveries ; and
the carriage was drawn by a superb pair of horses.
Mr. Granby made me enter first ; and I found an-
other person seated inside. He appeared to be a
strong, powerfully built individual, of about forty
— plainly but respectably dressed — though by his
looks I could scarcely take him for a gentleman.

" It is merely a friend of mine," said Mr.
Granby as he followed me into the carriage.

The footman having closed the door, leaped up
to his seat by the coachman's side ; and the equi-
page drove off. It proceeded along Holborn and
entered Oxford Street,— Mr. Gi-anby keeping up
an incessant discourse the while, which however he
had almost completely to himself — for I was too
much occupied with my own thoughts to be in-
terested in his common-place remarks; and as for
his friend on the other seat, ho appeared to be of a
taciturn disposition, contenting himself with now
and then interjecting a brief comment. I tlirew
myself back in the carriage, and exerted all my
power to lull the agitation of my feelings and pre-
pare myself thoroughly for the expected interview.
The equipage rolled rapidlyfelong until at length
I began to think that it had missed the proper
turning from Oxford Street towards Manchester
Square ; and I glanced forth from the window.
On the left I beheld the railings of Hyde Park ;
and I said to Mr. Granby, " Your coachman is
going wrong, sir : this is not the way to Manches-
ter Square !"

" Ah ! I forgot, my dear sir, to mention," was
Mr. Granby's response, " that the interview is to

take place at my house that of a mutual friend,

you know — —because, as the matter is a delicate
one, it was deemed expedient to make this arrange-
ment."

" Have we far to go ?" I inquired, being full of
a nervous impatience, notwithstanding my endea-
vours to lull the tumult of my emotions.

"A very little way farther," replied Mr. Grauby,
— adding, " My house is at Bayswater."

" And the Earl will be there ?" I asked.

" Most certainly," responded Mr, Granby. " He
is anxiously waiting—"

" And the Countess ?" I said in a low tremulous
voice.

" Her ladyship will likewise be there," was the
rejoinder.

In a few minutes Bayswater was reached ; and
the equipage turned to the right, into a road
diverging from the main thoroughfare. On either
side there was a range of newly built villas : then
there was an unoccupied space for about a hundred
yards— and then the carriage stopped at a gate in
a wall evidently enclosing spacious grounds and
premises. The footman, leaping down from the box,
rang the bell— the folding leaves of the gate were
at once thrown open — and the equipage turned

S42

JOSEPH WIIMOT; OB, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAU--gEEVANT.

into an avenue intevsecting a lawn, and leading up
to a mansion of considerable dimensions. I tLere-
fore supposed that Mr. Granbj must be a gentle-
man of fortune.

" Now, Mr. Wilmot," he said, stepping forth as
the footman opened the carriage-door, " have the
kindness to follow me."

I was trembling all over ; for I said to myself,
" In a few moments I shall doubtless stand in the
presence of those who are now in some sense the
arbiters of my destiny !"

My heart beat violently : I was agitated with
that suspenscful sensation which seizes upon an
individual when believing himself to be on the
threshold of an important crisis in his existence.
I followed Mr. Granby into a spacious hall, where
two porters in handsome liveries were stationed;
and the unnamed friend who had accompanied us
in the carriage, entered immediately after me. Mr
Grranby led the way into a well furnished parlour
and requested me to be seated. He sate down at
a short distance — while his friend, placing himself
still farther off, took up a newspaper, with the
contents of which he appeared suddenly to become
deeply interested. But the Earl and Countess of
Eceleston were not in this apartment.

" My dear Mr. Wilmot," said Granby, " you
have friends who take a very great interest in your

welfare- ■"

" You mean the Earl and Countess P" I said, in
a tremulous voice : for I conceived this to be an-
other considerate preparation for the crowning
event.

" Friends who take a very great interest in your
welfare," repeated Mr. Grauby. " They have en-
listed my sympathies on your behalf "

" It is exceedingly kind of you," I said, " to

take all this trouble "

" No trouble, my dear sir !" interjected Mr.
Granby : " it is to a certain extent a duty."

" Doubtless your friendship for the Earl has led
you to regard it in this generous light :" — and I
continued to speak with the feverish agitation of
suspense.

"In me you behold a friend," proceeded Mr.
Granby ; " and I have therefore invited you to
pass a short time with me at my residence — where
every attention will be shown you, and where you
will find ample means for recreation and amuse-
ment."

" Is it the Earl's wish that I should remain here
for awhile after the interview which is now to take
place ?" I inquired with a strange sense of bewil-
derment.

" Yes— by his express wish," replied Mr. Granby.
" Now pray don't excite yourself : but I think we
must postpone for a few days that interview to

which you have just alluded "

" Postpone it !" I ejaculated, struck by the con-
viction that I was now being trifled with : and I
started from my seat.

At that instant a cry so wild and terrible rang
through the entire building ; and though evidently
coming from some remote part of the premises, it
pierced the walls of the room in which I found
myself, as if they were of paper. That cry,
BO wild and mournful, rang through my brain,
and struck terror to my heart. I flung a rapid
look of inquiry upon Mr. Granby : but to my
astonishment he appeared utterly unmoved — while ;

his unnamed friend went on reading the news-
paper with as much calmness as if nothing strange
nor unusual had occurred.

" Pray sit down, Mr. Wilmot," said Granby :
"it is only an unfortunate friend of mine— an in-
valid — a — a "

" One word, sir !" I exclaimed. " Are the Earl
and Countess of Eceleston here ?"

" I thought I had already given you to under-
stand "

" That they are Moi ?" I ejaculated. "Then, sir,
I decline accepting the home with which they
have sought to provide me ; and I am sorry that
you should have had all this trouble."

Thus speaking, I bowed and turned towards the
door : but to my surprise and indignation, I per-
ceived that Mr. Granby's friend, having glided
from his seat, had posted himself with his back
against that door.

" Stand aside !" I exclaimed. " You shall not
bar my passage !"

" Mr. Wilmot," said Granby, " it is useless for
you to excite yourself. Here you are — and hero
you must remain for the present. Any violence on
your part "

"Good God!" I exclaimed, as a sickening,
maddening suspicion flashed in unto my brain —
and I reeled beneath its withering, blighting in-
fluence. " Where am I ? for heaven's sake tell me
where I am ?"

" Where you will be taken care of," responded
Granby, " and the state of your mind improved."

" A lunatic-asylum !" I murmured in a dying
voice : and staggering towards the sofa, I burst
into tears.

CHAPTEK CXLIX.

THE LtTNATIC-ASTLUM.

Etertthino- was now plain to me : I saw that
I had been made the victim of a fearful, hideous,
diabolical treachery. Those two men — Olding and
Joyce — whom I had taken for lawyers, were in
reality medical practitioners; and they had signed
the requisite certificate which was to plunge me
into a mad-house. They had been led to believe
that I cherished delusions with regard to the Earl
and Countess of Eceleston — that without the
slightest cause I had fancied that I was the object
of their bitter persecution — that I wandered about
the world in a state which unfitted me to be thus
at large — that I insanely plunged into adventures
of all sorts — and that I regarded myself as a
modern Quixote whose duty it was to redress
wrongs and frustrate the schemes of evil-doers.
Ah ! now I comprehended full well wherefore
Olding and Joyce had questioned me in the way
which they had done ; and I could not blind my-
self to the fact that my excitement on the occasion
of their visits must have seemed to corroborate the
assurance previously given to them that my brain
was unsettled on particular points. And tben, too,
I recollected the peculiar manner in which Joyce
had held me by the wrist -. — it was in order that
he might feel my pulse. Good heavens ! had I by
my own unguarded conduct and folly thus aided
the designs of the Earl of Eceleston who had re-
solved to immure me in a mad-house P

JOSEPH WILMOT; OE, THB MEKOIBS OF X MATT-BERVANT.

343

And why was it that I flung myself upon the
sofa in that desolation and forlornness of the soul?
— why was it that I burst into tears and gave way
to an agony of weeping ? Because I was smitten
with the conTiction that resistance was indeed vain
— that violence would avail me nothing — that
Granby had the law upon his side,— cruel, abomi-
nable, and atrocious though that law were which
thus afforded the wicked an opportunity of carry-
ing out their detestable designs ! In a word, I
knew myself to be powerless, and that I was as
completely at the mercy of Granby who sate calm
in his chair, and of the keeper who had planted
his back against the door, as if I were restrained
by bolts and bars within the walls of Newgate.
This was why I sank down overpowered with my
horrible feelings : this was why my energies were
paralyzed : this was why I burst into tears !

" Come, Mr. Wilmot," said Granby, at the ex-
piration of a few minutes — and he spoke in a
somewhat stern, authoritative voice, — "it is no
use to make yourself miserable : you will be
treated as well as your own conduct will allow us
to treat you. Your friends are very considerate,
and have agreed to allow a decent revenue for
your maintenance. You shall have a chamber to
yourself — I keep an excellent table— and the
grounds are spacious enough for you to take
plenty of exercise. Be a good young man — tract-
able and docile — avoid giving unnecessary trouble
— and you will find yourself as happy here as the
day is long."

" Mr. Granby," I answered, with deeply dejec-
ted manner, " I know my own thoughts and my
own mind as perfectly as you are the master of
Tour's. I have never cherished a delusion— I have

never pursued phantoms "

"We will not argue the point, if you please,"
interrupted Mr. Granby. " Once for all, it is of
no use for you to talk in this strain to me.— Tom,"
he added, addressing himself to his man, " open
the door and I will take Mr. Wilmot to the

dining-room — for dinner must be ready Indeed

we have kept it waiting nearly an hour !" added
Mr. Granby, looking at his watch.

" I should esteem it a favour," I said, " if you
will permit me to retire to the chamber which is
to be allotted to me. I have no appetite — I re-
quire no dinner "

" Pooh ! pooh ! cheer up your spirits !" said
Mr. Granby. " It is the very worst thing to give
way to melancholy. I will introduce you to Mrs.

Granby "

" Suffer me to retire now to my chamber," I
said, in a tone of almost abject entreaty, — for I
felt thoroughly crushed and spirit-broken. " To-
morrow I shall be better."

" Well, be it so," replied Mr. Granby. " I will
send you up some dinner — and you must do your
best to maintain your spirits. Tom, show Mr.
Wilmot to his room."

The keeper — for such he was— opened the door ;
and I followed him from the parlour. He lighted
a taper in the hall, and conducted me up a hand-
some staircase to a long corridor on the second-
floor, with an array of numerous doors on each side
of this passage. He showed me to a good-sized
and well-furnished chamber ; and having lighted
a couple of candles, he left me, with an intimation
that a tray with some dinner should be shortly

sent up. He did not lock the door upon me : but
I only felt too well assured that this was no neglect
of a precaution, but that other means were adopted
to prevent the possibility of escape.

I sate down in a dreadful state of despondency.
Not only was I deprived of my liberty and con-
signed to a lunatic-asylum— but I keenly felt the
bitterness of this new persecution on the part of
the Earl of Eccleston. Oh, how grossly had I
been deceived ! — how infamously treated ! Fool — •
idiot that I was to yield up the advantages which
for a moment I had obtained at Milan, and assent
to a compromise which was after all nothing but
a snare to entrap me ! And was not the devilish
ingenuity of Lanover visible in the hideous
treachery which had now enmeshed me? — had
not that man been resuscitated as it were from
the dead, in order to pursue me with fresh ran-
cour ? But the Countess of Eccleston, — was she
an accomplice in this foul plot ? — could she who
had wept over me at the hotel at Civita Vecchia,
and who had imprinted kisses upon my cheeks, —
could sJie have given her adhesion to this last and
most terrible persecution ?

And now a strange and horrifying thought began
stealing in unto my mind. Was there really any
ground for my immurement in a lunatic-asylum ?
Had I been all along cherishing delusions in re-
spect to the Earl and Countess of Eccleston ? Was
the idea of those kisses and those tears at Civiia
Vecchia a mere phantasy ? — was Dorchester's sup-
position as baseless as my own ? In a word, had
I from the first been cradling myself in idle
dreams and airy visions ! I pressed my hand to
my brow, and sought to deliberate with myself as
calmly as I could. But my thoughts were falling
into confusion : I could not collect them ; and I said
to myself in anguish of spirit, " Just God ! if I
be really going mad 1"

The door now opened ; and a livery servant en-
tered, bearing a tray which he placed upon the
table. His manner was completely respectful ;
and when I found that he treated me thus, my
mind was relieved : and now I said to myself,
" No, no — I am not mad : and all these people
know it !"

The domestic retired, having intimated that he
should return in half-an-hour to see if I required
anything more. A very excellent repast was thus
sent up to me ; and there was about half-a-piat
of wine in a small decanter. I could eat notbing
except a morsel of bread : hut for the first time
in my life it was with avidity that I drank the
wine ; for I needed a stimulant to cheer my spirits.
I however soon fell into a painful reverie again : my
heart kept swelling with emotions as 1 thought that
but a short time back I was in the enjoyment of
freedom— whereas now I was a captive in a place
which after all was only a superior kind of prison.
Oh, if Annabel knew that I was here ! And,
ah! distressing, maddening idea! what if the
machinations of my enemies should succeed in
prolonging my captivity ? what if when November
came I should be unable to present myself at
Heseltine Hall ? and. Oh ! what would be thought
if no tidings were there received of me ? Would
Annabel deem me faithless? No: but it would
be believed that I was dead — tbat I must have
perished obscurely in some foreign part, without
eaving a trace behind me I

344

JOSEPH WIXiMOT; OB, THE MEMOIES OP A MAK-3ERVANT.

The reader will not consider me weak if I con-
fess that I again wept bittorlj: but those tears
relieved me somewhat ; and I endeavoured to fix
my looks on the brighter side of the picture. Had
I not friends who, on my sudden disappearance
from the world, would make inquiries concerning
me? — would not the Count of Livorno, for in-
stance, be in time rendered uneasy on my behalf,
if a prolonged silence were maintained ? — would
not tlie Count of Monte d'Oro think of me? —
would not Sir Matthew Heseltine himself seek to
learn my fate ? — and might I not even expect
Bomethin^ favourable at the hands of the kind-
hearted Saltcoats? Yes, yes— it was impossible
I could be left to linger out a wretched existence
there ! My captivity must assuredly be brief !
But then, on the other band, came the sickening
thought that all those whom I have just mentioned
might fancy that for reasons of my own I had
purposely broken off all communication with
them ; and they would trouble themselves not
with the affairs of one who to all appearances had
ceased to remember former friendships.

It was with a heavy heart that night I sought
my couch : but I soon slept through sheer ex-
haustion of mind and body. When I awoke in
the morning, I could scarcely believe that every-
thing which first struck my thoughts was other-
wise than a dream. But, alas ! I beheld bars at
the window; and, Oh! the conviction smote me
that it was no dream. Looking around the room,
I perceived all the luggage which I had left at the
hotel ; and it must therefore have been placed in
my chamber while I slept. I rose, and opened
my boxes. Everything was safe, even to my
papers and letter of credit : nothing had been ab-
stracted ; and my hotel bill, duly receipted, lay on
the top of my clothes just within one of the trunks.
I performed my toilet ; and then, trying the door
of the chamber, found that it was unlocked. I
felt the want of fresh air; and I was moreover
anxious to ascertain to what extent my range of
freedom reached. I accordingly issued from the
room. In an adjacent one, the door of which
stood wide open, I beheld the man Tom and an-
other individual (also a keeper, as I subsequently
learnt) seated together at a table, partaking of
their breakfast. They respectfully bade me " Good
morning :" — and I descended the stairs without in-
terruption. On reaching the hall, I found the
front door standing open : one of the porters was
seated in his large leathern chair ; and I passed
out of the hall, still without the slightest hin-
drance.

I have already said that the mansion was an
extensive one ; and it stood in the midst of about
an acre and a half of ground, laid out in lawns and
gardens. But on the inner side of the four walls
which completely enclosed the place, there was a
line of chevaux-defrise, or long iron spikes fixed
upon revolving bars ; so that it was impossible to
climb the wall. At the entrance-gate there was a
porter's lodge ; and the gates themselves were kept
1 ocked. In addition to these precautions, there
■Were three or four gardeners so interspersed about
the grounds that every part of the premises could
be thus watched by them; and I may farther ob-
serve that during those hours when the inmates
of the asylum were principally accustomed to take
exercise in the garden, three or four keepers

were roaming about likewise. In respect to the
chevaux-de fi'ise, they were not visible to passers-
by outside the walls : the projecting irons which
supported them, were about a foot and a half from
the top — and, as I have already said, on the inner
side. In each angle of the walls there were quan-
tities of iron spikes, four feet in length, which came
bristling down in a slanting direction from the
masonry in which they were set ; and these were
in addition to the chevawx-de-frise.

It was about eight o'clock in the morning whea
I thus came out to walk in the grounds ; and the
gardeners (who were also keepers) were already at
their work, in which they seemed so busied as to
have no thought for anything else. Besides these
gardeners I at first beheld no one : but at the ex-
piration of a few minutes I perceived aa old gen-
tleman emerge from a sort of shrubbery. He was
dressed in black ; and his toilet indicated the ut-
most neatness and precision. I wondered for a
moment whether he were one of the unfortunate
inmates of the place — or whether he were some
official — or again whether he might not be a friend
of Mr. Granby. He had a most respectable as
well as venerable appearance ; and there was
something exceedingly kind and benevolent in his
looks. He courteously bade me " Good morn-
ing;" and I returned the salutation. I surveyed
him steadfastly in the hope of ascertaining which
of my conjectures was the right one : but I quickly
came to the conclusion that at all events he could
not be one of the deranged inmates of the place,
for his full clear blue eyes were expressive of com-
pletest lucidity.

"Enjoying the morning air, sir, before break-
fast ?" said the old gentleman, now joining me in
my walk.

" I am certainly taking the air," I answered
somewhat bitterly : "but as for enjoying it,— that,
alas ! is impossible when it is the air of captivity
which I breathe !"

"What?" ejaculated my new acquaintance, now
stopping short and gazing upon me with astonish-
ment depicted upon his countenance. " You do
not mean me to understand that you are impri-
soned here ?"

" Alas, indeed I do !" was my mournful response.
" And yet "

" Why, you are no more mad than I am !" cried
the old gentleman, with an indignation which sud-
denly inspired me with hope. "This shall be seen
into at once ! If my friend Granby has been im-
posed upon "

" He has, my dear sir — he has, I can assure
you 1" I exclaimed. "My case is a most cruel
one— Oh, so cruel!"

"How often are these mistakes to occur !— these
villanies to be perpetrated !" exclaimed my new
friend. "But heaven be thanked! I have fre-
quently proved the means of liberating those who
were unjustly confined within these walls."

"Oh, my dear sir!" I cried, my heart now
thrilling with the most fervid hope; "whoever
you are, if you would assist me "

"That I will assuredly do, my poor young man,"
interrupted the old gentleman, "if I -find your
statement correct. Granby is an intimate friend
of mine ; and I am on a yisit to him. He is a
well-meaning, kind-hearted man— but perhaps not
so well fitted for his avocation as he might be.

JOSEPH WILXIOT; OB THE MEMOIRS OP A MAN-SEKVANT.

3J.5

He wants discrimination ; and through the absence
of that quality, has sometimes received gent'iemen
as inmates who ought never to be here at all. Of
course it is difficult for him to act otherwise, when
Le sees the certificates "

" My dear sir," I exclaimed, full of the most
feverish suspense, " for heaven's sake use your in^
fluence at once— and you know not what an
amount of good you will be doing ! Restore me
to liberty— and night and morning will I pray for
you !"

" Come with me," said my new friend, his looks
melting with compassion, and his lips quivering
beneath the influence of the emotions which my
words had excited. "We will see G-ranby at once.

I am glad that I happened to bo here and to

tell you the truth, I have prolonged my visit more
than I originally intended, in order to make my-
self thoroughly acquainted with the workings of
these institutions : for though Granby's is cer-
96

tainly one of the best in the whole country, yet of
I have already told you, the most conscientious as
men may occasionally be led into error. However,
come with me — and we will soon put this matter
right 1"

I took my new friend's hand and pressed it with
a joyous effusion. There was so much mild bene-
volence in his looks, his words, and his manner,
that I already felt a deep regard towards him.

"Come," he repeated: "I cannot bear to see a
young man like you thus made the victim of mis-
take or persecution. Within the hour that is
passing you shall be free : for ii by any accident
my influence should not avail with Granby "

"What would you do for me ?" I inquired with
feverish impatience. " Oh ! what could you do in
tJiat case ?"

The benevolent old gentleman took me by the
button-hole ; and fixing his eyes witli soleran im-
pressiveness upon me, he said, " If my friend

346

JOSEPH WIT;MOT; OR, THE MEMODIS OP A MAN-SBEVANT.

Granbj do not listen to the words of reason and '
justice, I will at once write to ray friend the Em-
peror of China and get him to send over an army I
of four millions of men !" j

Nothing could exceed the shock of disappoint- |
ment which I thus suddenly sustained. All my |
hopes were annihilated in an instant : I had been
listening to the nonsense of a madman ! My soul,
elevated on the pinion of that wild hope to the
high regions of heaven, sank suddenly down,
drooping and crushed, upon the earth. 1 groaned
in anguish; and with a feeling of petulance for
which I was afterwards sorry, I broke savagely
away from the unfortunate old gentleman and
hastened to the farther extremity of the grounds.
There I beheld a young man, scarcely two years
older than myself, and elegantly dresseJ, leaning
against a tree— with Lis arms folded across his
chest, and with a smile upon his countenance. He
had evidently been watching the elderly gentle-
man's proceedings with me ; and he said, " Ah ! I
suppose, sir, old Cooper has been palming ofT some
of his nonsense upon you ? He is as mad as a
March hare : but he is perfectly harmless and gives
us no trouble. Indeed, my uncle likes the old man
very much."

" I presume, therefore," I said, " that I am ad-
dressing Mr. Granby's nephcv r"

« Yes— and to tell you the truth, I came out to
put you on your guard against being deceived by
Mr. Cooper's absurdities : for the instant he gets
hold of a new-comer, he proffers his assistance and
vows to effect his immediate emancipation. My
uncle spied you from the v.indow, and sent mo out
to speak to' you : but you were already deep in
• conversation with Mr. Cooper— and I could not
therefore wound the poor old gentleman's feelings
by interfering. Thus I was compelled to leave
you to your fate ; and you vrill pardon me if I

smiled "

'•'Oh, yes— I can forgive you!" I exclaimed:
"for were I in the mood, I could laugh at my own
folly in allowing myself even for an instant to be
deluded by such a hope."

" The best advice I can give yon, Mr. Wilmot,
is to avoid putting laithin anything you may hear
fiom these unxortunato- men. You will be as-
tonished at the extraordinary delusions under
which some of them labour."

" You, I presume," I said, " are now thoroughly
accustomed to them.P"

"Yes," was the answer : "I have been with my
uncle lor aboufc two years: but 1 am getting rather

sick of it However," he interrupted himself,

as if thinking that he was saying too much ;
"come with me, sir, and let me show you the
grounds. I have been recommending my uncle,"
ho continued, as we walked along together, "to
make a conservatory in this spot : but he is afraid
that one or two of our patients who are rather
mischievously inclined, would pull the place to
pieces. K^ot that they ever interfere with the

fl„„ej.s Ah ! hers are our melon-frames. I

make these my especial care."

Thus conversing, my guide pointed out such

objects in the garden as ho thought would interest

me— until at length a bell rang; and then he said,

"We must uoiv go in to breaklast."

"Are there luauy inmates r" I inquired.

"About, luur-au('-tweutv in all," was the re-

spouse. "■ We think of taking additional premises
in the neighbourhood, as we have lately been
compelled to refuse a considerable number. Ah !

it is a shocking thing, Mr. "Wilmot "

But here he stopped short; and methought that
he flung a compassionating look upon me. The
idea for the moment struck me that J, would en-
deavour to enlist his sympathy : but a second
thought made me ask myself, "' What hope have
I at the hands of the nephew of the proprietor of
this place .''"

"You shall sit nest to mo at the breakfast-
tab'.e," he said at the expiration of a few mo-
ments : then suddenly flinging an appealing looK
upon me, he added, " But I beg and entreat, my
dear friend, that if you do see me turn into a
muffin, you won't hold me too close to the fire
while you toast mo, nor yet smother me too much
in butter!"

It was almost with a feeling of rage that I
found myself thus duped a second time: for I had
verily and seriously believed that this young gen-
tleman was precisely what he had represented
himself—namely, the nephew of Mr. Granby. Oh!
*hat nn ineffable loathing— what a sickening at
the heart did I experience at the idea of being
thus shut up in the companionship of such men!
— beings vfIio had enough of rationality to deceive
me for a time, but who all in a moment were im-
pelle i to lay bear the hideous ruin of their own
shattered intellect! Ludicrous though the last
self-exposure was, yet I could not laugh at it: — it
filled me with pity and horror instead of provoking
my mirth. I continued walking by the unfortu-
nate young man's side till we reached the dwell-
ing ; and there, in the hall, wc met Mr. Granby,
who with a sufficient degree of courtesy, if not
kindness, bade us " Good morning."

I was now conducted into the breakfast-parlour,
where I found about twenty of the inmates as-
sembled,— their ages ranging over various periods
from twenty to sixty, and their minds doubtless
affording as many varied phases of hallucination.
At the head of the table — which was well spread
with an excellent repast— sate a lady in the glo-
rious embonpoint of about five-and-forty, and
who, still a handsome woman, retained all the
traces of a beauty which must have been of no
common order. She wore a coquetish French
morning cap with pink ribbons; and this gay
head-dress, so far from concealing, rather invited
attention to the fact that her hair, once dark, was
now streaked with grey. She had a matronly air
of mingled authority and hospitality; and while
she enacted the part of mistress of the establish-
ment, she blended therewith the attention of a
hostess towards numerous guests. This was Mrs.
Granby ; and to her was I now presented by her
husband,

" I am very glad to see you, Mr. Wilmot," she
s:xij, giving me her hand: " we feel honoured that
you should have come to pay us this visit— and we
will endeavour to make your sojourn as agreeable
as possible."

" If I were really like the rest, madam," I an-
swered in an under-tone, " you mi;,'ht treat me as
you do them, and endeavour to make me believe

that I am in reality only a guest he.-e. But

" Tills is your place, Mr. Wilmot," said Mr.
Granby, now intending : and for a moment hj

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OR, THE MEMOIRS OP A MAN'-SERVANT.

347

bent upon me a stern look. "It is sufficient for
Mrs. Granby to find you here, ia order to induce
Ler to treat you with courtesy ; and if she be
generously disposed to gloss over the circum-
stances in which yourself and other gentlemen are
placed within these walls, it is scarcely polite or
generous of you to seek to argue the point with
Ler."

I felt that there was more or less justice in this
reproof: for the simjile fact was that the Granbys
kept an asylum for the insane, and if persons were
legally consigned to their care, they had a perfect
right to receive them without previously investi-
gating the true circumstances of each individual
case. Perhaps too Mrs. Granby might really have
thought that I laboured under some peculiar hal-
lucination, as did each of the others around her ;
and it was therefore kind of her to treat me as a
sane person, though in her heart having the cou-
victiou that my mind was really diseased.

All these reflections swept rapidly through my
brain in consequence of that reproof which Mr.
Granby had addressed to me; and without another
syllable I took the place which he indicated at the
table. I found that both himself and his wife
studied to sustain a cheerful conversation on gene-
ral topics, — dexterously and carefully avoiding
those particular ones which might be connected
with the hallucinations of individuals present: and
if a stranger, ignorant of the nature of the place,
had been suddenly introduced there and invited to
breakfast he could not possibly have suspected
from anything which occurred, that he was in the
society of a number of persons nearly all of whom
had a mental disease of some kind or another.

I am not going to spin out this portion of my
narrative with unnecessary details : but still some
few explanations are necessary. At first I could
not help thinking that there were within those
walls many unfortunate beirgs who, like myself,
had been placed in confinement witfiout any just
cause : but as weeks passed away, I found out that
such was not the fact. Sooner or later I dis-
covered that every one laboured under a delusion
of some sort; and which, though for the most part
it remained as it were latent, yet would in an in-
stant flame up if the spark were inadvertently set
to a particular train of ideas. In nearly all in-
stances I ascertained too that this delusion was of
a nature which really incapacitated the individual
from the management of his own worldly affairs,
and rendered it desirable that he should be con-
signed to some peaceful seclusion where he would
be removed from the influences which had in the
origin operated with such fatal effect upon his
mind. Thus, for instance, there was one indivi-
vidual who believed that ho hud discovered the
longitude — and who had spent half his fortune in
publishing treatises on the subject, or advertising
Lis arguments throughout whole columns of the
newspapers, and for which he had to pay most
dearly. He had likewise haunted the Govern-
ment oflicers and the lobbies of the Houses of Par-
liament, in the hope of finding patrons for a dis-
covery which really was no discovery at all. He
Lad gone mad upon this one subject: while in
respect to all others he was periectly sane. His
friends had interfered to prevent the total ruin of
Lis fortune, as well as to save him from the effects
of those indiscretions into which Lis pertinacious

haunting of the public officers had led him ; and
thus was he placed in an asylum where he enjoyed
every comfort and luxury — where he was kiudly
treated — and where his mind was undergoing a
steady but gradual improvement.

I must here observe that Mr. Granby did not
seek to detain his patients beneath his roof one
week longer than was absolutely necessary. As a
general rule it was his pride to restore them to
their relatives or friends with the least possible
delay, in order that his reputation might be en-
hanced ; and thus, if for a moment he lost an in-
mate from whose presence he derived a good
revenue, the vacant place was sure to be filled
speedily, while recommendation brought him others
ia addition.

I was one day the witness of a singular circum-
stance. I was walking in the grounds, when the
bell at the entrance rang — the porter opened the
gates — and a handsome carriage and pair drove
into the enclosure. A well-dressed gentleman, of
about thirty, leapt out; and meeting Mr. Granby
at the moment, he shook him cordially by the
hand, exclaiming, " Here I am, my dear sir, once
more, I feel the old delusion returning : I am
haunted by all kinds of evil spirits— and I am
come for you to cure me:" — then coolly turning
round to his coachman, he added, " Come back
again in three months, John, and fetch me. I
shall be all right by that time."

'• Very good, sir," replied the coachman, touch-
ing his hat : and the equipage drove off.

" Now let me go and pay my respects to Mrs,
Granby," said this halluciuationist who had thus
voluntarily confided himself to a lunatic asylum :
and he hastened into the house with a degree of
happiness which evidently arose from the convic-
tion that by a short sojourn there he would be
cured of those horrible thoughts which he knew
to be a delusion, but which ho had not strength
of mind sufficient to triumph over of his own ac-
cord.

There were between twenty and thirty patients
in the establishment, — the greater portion of whom
belonged to the class I have already described :
namely, those who were merely mad upon one
point aud sane upon all others. Bat there were
six or eight whose intellects were far more un-
settled, and who at times were even dangerous.
These were not permitted to take their meals with
the rest — but were kept in their own rooms ; and
they only took exercise when attended by their
keepers. It was one of these unfoi^uaate beings
who had sent forth that wild and mournful cry
which so horrified me on the first uight of my in-
troduction to Mr. Granby's establishment.

CHAPTER CL.

HOVEMBEE, 1842.

It wag in the middle of May, 1842, that I was
consigned by a hideous treachery to the lunatic-
asylum ; and therefore, as the reader will recollect,
it wanted exactly six months to that date in the
ensuing November when I was to present myself
at Heseltine Hall. And you will start, gentle

34S

JOSEPH WIJCiliOT; OB, THE MEMOIES OP A MA>r-SEEVANl.

reader, when I inform yoa that nearly the whole
of these six months were spent in that asylum !

Yes — it was so : but I am in duty bound to
admit that on the whole I was treated with great
kindness by Mr. and Mrs. Granby. At first I
would frequently implore of them — sometimes
separately, at other times when they were together
—to give me my freedom ; and then only was it that
Granby spoke with sternness and severity. At
length, perceiving the utter inutility of thus inter-
ceding with them, 1 desisted, and fell back upon
my hopes that the friends whom I had made in the
course of my career would not desert me for ever.
I studied every means which I fancied might lead
to the accomplishment of an escape : but I found
that they were impraticable. I offered a heavy
bribe to the porter to open the gate of the
grounds : he not merely rejected it — but ac-
quainted Mr. Granby with the circumstance. The
consequence was that I received a severe repri-
mand from that gentleman ; and I found that
during the night, my ready money and my letter
of credit were abstracted from my chamber. Mr.
Granby informed me in the morning that this had
been done by his orders— but that my property
should be given up to me whenever I quitted his
establishment.

I procured writing-materials, and penned a
letter, imploring the passer-by into whose hands
it might fall, to appeal to a magistrate on my
behalf — for that though perfectly sane, I expe-
rienced a forcible detention at that lunatic-asylum.
This letter I flung over the wall : but an hour
afterwards the gate-porter, with a grin on his
countenance, showed it to me, — observing that it
was a very stale trick on the part of gentlemen
confined there, and that as a matter of course no
one who picked up such a letter on the outside of
the establishment, would take any notice of it,
unless it were to place it in the hand of some
official connected with the institution. Finding
that this project failed, I wrote no more letters.
Several times I asked Mr. Granby, whether it
were the intention of the Earl of Eccleston to
keep me immured there as long as he possibly
could : but I only received evasive responses —
and Mr. Granby never would admit at all that he
had any knowledge of his lordship. On other occa-
sions I asked whether he did not think that the
general tenour of my conduct would warrant him
in representing to those who had placed me there
that it was no longer reasonable nor just to detain
me. But here again I received vague and un-
satisfactory replies : for I found myself an excep-
tion to that general rule to which I have above
alluded, and according to which Mr. Granby en-
deavoured to restore the patient to freedom so
Boon as he could in safety do so. In a word, as
the reader may full well suppose, I left no means
untried to procure my emancipation — but in vain ;
and for nearly six long months was I an inmate
of that place.

The state of my feelings during this long incar-
ceration can be better imagined than described.
My mind was in a condition of almost incessant
restlessness and fever, with a few occasional inter-
vals of deepest dejection and despondency : but on
the whole I did not abandon the hope which I
cherished, that circumstances would sooner or
later take a sudden turn in my favour : much less

did I yield myself up to complete despair. Often
and often did I reflect that from amidst the many
troubles in which during my career I had been
plunged, the hand of providence had raised me
up ; and as I had faith in that providence, the
general tone of my mind was one of confidence
that the power of heaven would sooner or later
manifest itself on my behalf. But still, as I have
said, I experienced a continuous restlessness — an
increasing hatred for the place in which I was
confined, and a stronger yearning to welcome the
day of freedom.

It must not be supposed that the incidents of
the great world were shut out from the knowledge
of those within the circuit of the asylum-walls.
We had newspapers and periodicals in abundance ;
and often against my inclination did I force my-
self to read the current topics of the day— so that
when restored to liberty, there should not be a
gap in my knowledge in that respect. I con-
stantly searched for some paragraph which might
inform me of the movements of the Earl and
Countess of Eccleston : but my curiosity on this
point was never gratified. Often and often did I
miss particular newspapers from the table in the
reading-room : but I knew that they all underwent
a rigid examination on the part of an official of
the establishment, so that nothing might be placed
before the patients which was at all calculated to
act upon the particular ideas or hallucinations
which had been the cause of their confinement
within those walls. Thus, after a while, when I
began thoroughly to comprehend the routine and
arrangements of the place, I felt convinced that if
any newspaper contained a paragraph relative to
the Earl of Eccleston, it would be kept back from
the reading-room on my account — ^just the same,
for instance, as any journal making mention of
the longitude would be withheld on account of
him who laboured under the hallucination that he
had solved this great mystery.

For the first few weeks of my incarceration I
was haunted by the fear that if it were prolonged
I should go mad in reality: but this feeling gra-
dually wore off — not only on account of the natural
strength of my mind, but likewise because I was
constantly saying to myself that it was necessary that
I should buckle on the armour of all my fortitude,
self-possession, and mental calmness, in order to en-
visage my position in its worst details — to examine
all surrounding circumstances — ai''d to be ready to
take advantage of any favourable opportunity
which by possibility might present itself for the
accomplishment of an escape. And then too, the
longer I staid beneath that roof, the more inti-
mately acquainted did I become with the phases
and peculiarities of the hallucinations possessed by
those around me ; and so far from incurring tho
risk of being drawn into the vortex of any of these
manisB, I was filled with too great a compassion
for the victims of the delusions to be otherwise in-
fluenced by them.

I have said that I will not dwell unnecessarily
on the circumstances of this episode of my life : I
have said too that nearly six months elapsed while
I was an inmate of Mr. Granby's establishment.
Tho month of November had no>v arrived, — that
month to which I had so long looked forward as to
one in which my future destiny was to be deter-
mined ! Good heavens, was it to pass and behold

JOSEPH WIIMOT; OB, THB MEMOrES OP A MAN-SERVANT.

343

me still an inmate of that dreadful place ? Was
the day of appointment to go by without being
kept by me ! — would there be eyes looking out and
hearts beating with suspense on the fifteenth of
that month— but all in vain! — for I the expected
one was not to make my appearance ! Oli, now
I grew fearfully excited as I thought of all this :
and I felt that ic was impossible to endure my
position any longer. I must escape— Oh, I must
escape ! But how ? Had not I fruitlessly been
seeking and pondering the means for six months ?
and had I found the slightest avenue open for my
egress ? No — alas, uo ! IIow therefore could
I now hope that success was all in an instant to
crown my wish, simply because that wish had
grown more excruciatingly poignant, if possible,
than ever ?

One morning an idea struck me : or rather I
should say it seized upon mo with a greater
strength than ever it had put forth before : for
it was not the first time that I had contem-
plated it. But I now resolved to make the attempt
at any risk. I have said that the entrance-gates
were kept constantly closed and locked ; and that
there was a porter's lodge close by. The porter him-
self was a man of herculean stature and strength
— one who had evidently been chosen for this par-
ticular duty on account of his great physical
powers. I had ascertained that be had a stout
staff as well as other weapons in his lodge ; and he
could not therefore be attacked with impunity. I
knew likewise that if I did venture on such an at-
tack and if I were to fail in it, I should at once be
looked upon as a violent lunatic— a dangerous mad-
man,—and that the straight-waistcoat would be
put upon me. It was the awful horror which I
entertained of this hideous coercive punishment,
that had kept me back when on former occasions
I had thought of playing a desperate game and
endeavouring by force to clear for myself an avenue
of escape. But now the eighth, of November had
arrived : it wanted only a week to the date fixed
for my appearance at Heseltine Hall : — I felt my
position to be desperate — and at all risks I was de-
termined to make the attempt to which I have
alluded !

I had lain awake the greater portion of the
preceding night, tossing restlessly and uneasily on
my feverish pillow ; and I rose at a somewhat
early hour in the morning in a state of mind
which could not possibly maintain an artificial
serenity. In short, I felt that I must do some-
thing desperate in order to escape from the lunatic
asylum. It was a dull, miserable, misty morning,
with a chill that went to the very marrow of one's
bones ; and though at one moment I felt myself
shuddering with the cold and my teeth chattering,
yet at another instant I was all in the glow of a
fever-heat. After my toilet was performed in the
dark, I had to remain in my chamber till the dawn
should glimmer; for I knew that any attempt to
issue from the house at an unreasonable hour
would at once excite suspicion. It was not there-
fore until past eight o'clock that I thought it
prudent to descend from my room. On reaching
the hall, I found one of the domestics unlocking
and unbolting the front door ; and he said to me,
" It is a nasty raw morning, Mr. Wilmot : 1
should advise you not to go out, sir — you may
catch cold."

" You know," I responded, " that whatever be
the state of the weather, I always take a certain
amount of exercise — without which I could not
keep myself in health."

The man offered no farther remonstrance ; aaJ
I passed out into the garden. I took two or threo
rapid turns in the grounds, — not merely to givo a
natural glow to my frame, and thereby nerve me
for the struggle in which I was resolved to engage
— but likewise that I might assure myself whether
circumstances were favourable for the venture.
Two of the gardeners were at work, — one in front,
the other in the rear of the dwelling; and the
former was not more than fifty yards distant frorn
the porter's lodge. I anxiously hoped that he
might remove himself somewhat farther off: but
on completing my third round, I perceived that he
was still near the same spot;— and I sivw that it
was useless to delay my enterprise any longer.

I accordingly began to saunter, as if in a
leisurely manner, about the neighbourhood of the
porter's lodge : I affected to be examining the
evergreens, and also the few flowers which still
survived the decline of Autumn. The door of the
lodge stood open as usual ; and the porter was
preparing his breakfast— for he was an unmarried
man and lived all alone in that lodge. I gradually
drew nearer to the door ; and through the little
window I now at length observed that he was
kneeling down upon the hearth, blowing the fire
with a pair of bellows. This was my opportunity.
A quick glance fiuug at the gardener, showed that
his back was towards mo ; and I glided into the
lodge. The noise of the bellows prevented the
porter from hearing my footsteps : I sprang upon
him — hurled him upon his back— wreuchcd the
bellows from his grasp— placed my knee upon his
chest — and griping him by the throat, threatened
to throttle him if he offered any resistance. At
that very moment my keen look showed me that
he was about to cry out for succour, and also to
make a desperate effort : but mercilessly did I
tighten my fingers around his throat, until the un-
fortunate wretch began to grow black in the face.
He made one tremendous convulsive movement to
shake me off": but I felt that 1 had the strength
of a thousand ; and I continued to maintain my
ascendancy — I proved that I could overpower him.
One knee was on his chest — the other, keeping
down his right arm, held it powerless : my left
hand firmly grasped his left wrist — my right hand
was at his throat: and thus we were— he alto,
gethcr at my mercy so long as I retained that
position. But if I moved, then might the cry for
succour go forth from his lips— and I should be
lost ! Fool that I was — I had left the door stand-
ing open !

" Unless you swear," I said, clutching at the
idea of coercing him by terror, " that you will let
me pass out in freedom, I will strangle you !"

" Go along with you, for heaven's sake !" mur-
mured the man, speaking witli difficulty : "do
what you like— but let me get up."

" You swear ?" I said, with the sternest ex-
pression of countenance.

" Yes, I swear," he responded.

" You take God to wituess ?" I demanded.

"I take God to wituess !" ho roj. lined, as ho
felt the pressure of my fingers agaiu tightening
about his throat in a most menacing maauer.

350

JOSEPH WILMOT; OK, THE MEMOIRS OP A MAN-SERVANT.

Quick as lightning I sprang up to my feet ;
and clutching the gate-key with my left hand (for
it lay upon the table), with my right I snatched a
pistol irom over the mantel. It had a percussion
lock ; and a moment's examination showed me that
a cap was upon the nipple — whence I inferred that
it was loaded.

" Dare to cry out— dare to molest me," I ex-
claimed, " and I fire by heaven, I fire!"

From the gloomy sullenuess and dismay of the
porter's countenance, as he slowly raised himself
up from the floor, I felt assured that I was not
deceived as to my conjecture that the pistol was
loaded r but in order not to give him an instant's
unnecessary advantage, I kept my front towards
him as 1 retrogaded towards the door. He said
not a word: but his looks were full of apprehen-
sion — until all in a moment, just as my heels
touched the threshold, and I was about to spring
back in order to make a rush towards the gate.
Then, quick as the eye can wink — quick indeed
as the lightning Hashes through tho sky — was I
seized upon from behind j and my right hand,
which held the pistol, was struck violently in an
upward direction. With a cry, or rather a howl
of savage exultation, the porter sprang forward :'
it was the gardener who had assailed me from be.
hind — and between them both I was thus over-
powered all in an instant. Two or three keepers
were speedily upon the spot, Mr. Granby came
rushing forth — his wife followed — and several of
the insane inmates also made their appearance.

" You have triumphed over me," I said, with
feelings of such bitterness and rage that I never
before experienced j "but my turn will yet come.
Do with me now what you like ! From this day
forth I proclaim war against you ! Unhand me !"

" Yes, I should think so indeed !" said the
porter, giving me a terrific shake as lie held me
by the coat-collar.

The insolence of the man's words and looks as
well as the brutality of the action itself, goaded
me to desperation, and armed me for the moment
with a preterhuman power. Indeed, my strength
would have appeared incredible, were it not that
we may suppose that the keepers finding them-
selves in sutficicnt force to master me, were hold-
ing me less tightly than they otherwise would
have done. Certain it is, however, that I burst
completely away from them; and with i^ne blow
felled the rufiian porter to the ground.

" Seize upon him !" shouted Mr. Granby : while
his wife gave vent to a loud scream.

And the next instant I was seized upon by half-
a-dozen vigorous hands; and again was I com-
pletely powerless. I felt that there was the hue
of animation on my cheeks, with the sense 6i satis-
faction at having at least inflicted some sort of
chastisement upon that insolent porter; and in-
stead of being cowed or overawed, I flung around
me looks of defiance.

"Yes!" I exclaimed, "do with me what you
•will : for henceforth I stand upon no terms with
you. You know, Mr. Granby, that I am not mad
—and the day of retribution will come — rest as-
Tured that it will !"

Mr. Granby did not however condescend to
make any answer : but he beckoned the keepers
to lead me into the house. I knew what my fate
would be; I foresaw that the straight-waistcoat

would be placed upon my limbs : but at that in-
stant my feelings were too powerfully excited to
allow me to care very much fur anything that
might happen to me — and I was moreover ^r too
proud to beg for mercy. In this manner we
reached the house ! and instead of being con-
ducted to my own chamber, I was led to a room
in a remote part of the building, and which was
denominated the strong-ward. Massive iron bars
were at the window : the fire-place was protecte4
by a curious sort of fender, also formed of iroa
bars, and tho upper part of which arched over
towards the mantel, where it was fastened by a
padlock. The walls were lined with matting, — the
Fpace between being stufi'ed with some soft sub-
stance; so that tiie immured victim might not
in his ravings dash out his brains against the
masonry. A humble bedstead, a table, and a chair
constituted the only furniture in this cheerless
ioom.

Thither was I conducted by the keepers and
Mr. Granby, — his wife and the lunalic spectators
of the scene in the garden, having remained below.
One of the keepers followed us with an ominous-
looking object — a garment of coarse material,
which I knew to be the straight-waistcoat: and
now I shuddered as I beheld it. I felt that my
countenance grew as pale as death — that my lips
were quivering convulsively ; nnd I had it on the
tip of my tongue to implore that this crowning
ignominy might be spared me. But no! — even
then my pride came back to prevent that prayer
from being uttered ; and I assumed a demeanour
of dignitied defiance as I slowly glanced around
upon those in whose power I was.

I know not whether my manner somewhat
overawed the keepers -or whether it were that
they in their hearts knew that I was not mad, and
either pitied me or else fancied that Granby was
•going too far : but certain it was that they hesi-
tated to put on the straight- waistcoat and they
glanced inquiringly as well as dubiously towards
their master.

" Proceed !" said Mr. Granby with decisive look
and tone.

'•' Beg pardon, sir," one of the keepers whispered
to Lim : " but don't you expect one of the visiting
Commissioners to-day or to-morrow?"

"Yes — and this is all the better," replied
Granby. "Proceed !"

Notwithstanding that these remarks were whis-
peringly exchanged, my ear caught them ; and for
a moment a thrill of joy swept through my heart
at the idea that a prospect of emancipation was
probably opening itself before me. Granby 's
demeanour was now doggedly stern and decided :
he looked savage, ferocious, and vindictive :— I
knew that at lasc I beheld the man in his true
character. I now understood perfectly well what
his observation had just meant: he considered that
my attempt to escape, and the violence which had
accompanied it, were fortunate circumstances, in-
asmuch as they afi'orded him a pretext for putting
me under restraint, and thus giving a colour to
the allegation of my madness. The keepers, no
longer hesitating — no longer looking dubious,
proceeded to strip off my coat and to put on
the straight-waistcoat. For an instant the blood
seemed to turn to ice in my veins : then the next
S moment it appeared to boil with fever heat ; and

JOSEPH WILMOT; OB, THE MEMOIKS OF A MAN-SEETANT,

351

I could scarcely restrain mjself from bursting
forth into one last desperate, . deadly, mortal
struggle. But I did exercise that strong coercive
power over my feelings : I submitted, — yet it was
only with the hope that the visit of the Commis-
sioner might be attended with good results. A
fire was lighted in the grate; and then I was left
alone.

Alone— and in a straight-waistcoat ! Scarcely had
the door of the chamber closed behind Mr. Graaby
and his myrmidons, when I perceived a little trap
in that door open, and some one looked through at
me. I knew it was a keeper who was to remain
on the watch outside of that door: but I cared
nothing for the circumstance. It was insignificant
indeed in comparison with the horribly ignominious
position in which I now found myself. The straight-
waistcoat is a long close-fitting garment of coarse
material, the sleeves of which are sewn tight down
to the sides; so that the arms are retained im-
movably there. I sate upon the pallet, giving
way to the most painful rellections — and now feel-
ing that if I were to be made the victim of a
series of persecutions of which this was the com-
mencement, it was indeed quite possible to drive
me mad in reality !

Half-an-hour passed ; and some breakfast was
brought up to me. Ttie keeper who bore it,
offered to place the food to ray lips : but I indig-
nantly rejected the proposal.

" Come, young gentleman," he said, adopting a
soothing manner, " don't bo so foolish : take this
nice tea and bread-and-butter — for the more tract-
able you arc, the sooner this thing will be taken
off you :" — and he glanced towards the straight-
waistcoat.

" I am sick at heart," I replied : " I cannot
touch food. You look as if you pitied me," I con-
tinued, gazing steadily at the keeper. " You know
that I am not mad ?"

He made no reply : but turning towards the
window, appeared to be looking through the
panes.

" Yes — you know that I am not mad !" I ex-
claimed : " and if you would assist me — if you
would help me to escape, I would give you a large
reward : for I have got many rich and powerful
friends."

'• Come, young gentleman — come, Mr. "Wiimot,
do take your food !" said the man, again turning
towards me.

I made no answer. The conviction struck
me that he did think I was mad ; and therefore
my assertion relative to my rich and powerful
friends appeared in his estimation to be only the
cunning device or else the boastful hallucination
of a diseased brain. Good heavens ! it was dread-
ful to reflect that though knowing and feeling
myself to be perfectly sane, every one around me
should believe that I was a madman ! Perhaps
Granby himself thought so, and therefore had all
the less compunction in treating me as he was
doing.

" Well, sir," said the keeper, now speaking
severely, "if you don't choose to take your food
you can ask for it when you are hungry ; and I
can tell you that it is no use to sulk in this man-
ner with your victuals. And there's another
thing too, which I may as well tell you, — which is
that the more obstreperous you show yourself, the

longer you will wear that straight-jacket. When
once Granby orders it to bo put on •"

But the rest of the sentence was lost in mut-
torings ; and taking up the tray, the keeper issued
from the room.

Another hour passed, — during which my feelings -
alternated between excitement and despondency ;
and these transitions grew more and more rapid.
Oh, that I should have failed in my attempt at
escape ! But no wonder. Could anything have
been worse managed ? I had undertaken it in a
state of mental excitement which had prevented
me from pre-arranging how I was to dispose of the
herculean porter when once I had overpowered
him. Alas ! it only wanted one week to that date
which I had once hoped would prove alike a memo-
rable and a fortunate one in my career ; and what
if it were to pass without being thus signalized ?
There was madness in the very thought ! O
Annabel, how I called upon your dear name ! —
how I invoked your image as that of a good genius
and of a guardian angel 1 And then I passionately
demanded why the Count of Livorno had neglected
me ? why the Count of Monte d'Oro interested
himself not in me ? why the Count of Avellino,
who was indebted to me for his happy marriaije
with Antonia di Tivoli, had never sought me out ?
And I wept — Oh! I wept, reader! — bitterly, bit-
terly did I weep ! And if, reader, you have been
interested in all the past incidents of my narrative
— if from the first you have experienced sympathy
for one who as a poor friendless boy was at the
outset introduced to you— if whatsoever good you
have found me doing has won your admiration — I
am convinced that at this portion of my tale your
heart will be moved, when to yourself you picture
me seated in that cheerless chamber — under the
cruellest and most ignominious restraint — the
gloom of a Jfovember mist resting against the
barred casement — the very atmosphere itself
leaguing as it were with my foes and oppressors in
order to make my soul sink into the despond oi a
veritable melancholy madness .

Thus another hour passed, I have said ; and
then I heard footsteps approaching along the pas-
sage. The door was opened; and a tall elderly
gentleman, with grey hair, sallow complexion, and
sharp angular features, entered the room, — followed
by Mr. Granby, who appeared all obsequiousness.

" Who is this, Mr. Granby ?" inquired the gen-
tleman, whom I at once suspected to be the visiting
Commissioner or Inspector, whichever denomination
he bore.

'' Joseph Wiimot, sir," replied Granby^

"Oh, Joseph Wiimot," said the visiting official:
and he wrote my name down in his pocket-book,
which he carried in his hand on entering the room.
" This is the young gentleman of whom you were
speaking to me just now, and who was guilty of
such dreadful violence this morning f "

'■' The same, sir," answered Mr. Granby.

Though the Commissioner spoke aside to Mr.
Granby, yet I plainly heard both the question and
the answer; and I said, "The violence of which I
was guilty, sir, had nothing savage nor vindictive
in it ; and it was only used for the purpose of
effecting my escape."

" But have you anything to complain of within
these walls ?" asked the Inspector : " any ill-
treatment "

352

JOSEPH ■WILMOT ; OE, THE MErJOIES OP A 5tAX-SESVANT.

" I candidly admit," I responded, " that up to
the present occasion I hare had nothing to com-
plain of beyond the privation of my liberty. But
feeling that I am unjustly incarcerated here — on
false pretences, and to serve the base ends of my
oppressors— I naturally endeavoured to recover my
freedom."

" Well, young man," said the Commissioner,
" you now see that you were wrong to use vio-
lence. You admit that you are well treated "

'•' Good heavens, sir !" I exclaimed, almost in
despair; "do you likewise believe that my brain
is turned ?"

" Come, come, my young friend," said the Com-
missioner, patting me upon the shoulder, "tran-
quillize yourself — and then, you know, this dis-
agreeable garment shall be taken oflf you. Be a
good young man : look upon this worthy gentle-
man"— and he glanced towards Granby — "as
your best friend : consult him when you are
restless and unhappy — follow his advice — and be-
lieve me, he will nob lead you astray nor prove
unkind to you."

I saw that the Commissioner was talking to me
&8 if I were a child, and endeavouring to soothe
me as if my intellect were really of a childish
standard and that I was susceptible of such con-
solation. For an instant I felt boiling with impa-
tience : but the next moment a reaction came, and
the tears trickled down my cheeks. Every one
believed that I was mad. Good God ! was it pos-
eible that their opinion might be correct ?

The Commissioner, again patting me upon the
shoulder, and saying a few more kindly-intentioned
and well-meant words, turned away and was about
to issue from the room, followed by Mr. Granby, —
when one of the livery-servants of the establish-
ment hastily appeared upon the threshold ; and
presenting a card to Granby, he said, " If you
please, sir, this nobleman demands to see you im-
mediately. He has insisted upon following me in
search of you Ah, here he is !"

Granby looked at the card : I sprang up from
the pallet on which I was seated, with a wild and
thrilling presentiment that the matter might relate
to myself ; and the next instant the nobleman to
whom the footman had alluded, appeared upon the
threshold. An ejaculation of joy pealed from my
lips ; and in a moment I was clasped in the arms
of my faithful friend the Count of Livorno.

CHAPTEE CLI.

peeedom:.

I 'WEPT upon his breast ; and my ear caught the
sound of the sobs which were convulsing his own
heart at the position in which he found me. But
suddenly turning round towards the group as-
sembled near, and dashing away the tears from
his eyes, the Count demanded, " Which is Mr.
Granby T'

" I have the honour of thus announcing myself
to your lordship," said that individual, stepping
forward and bowing obsequiously.

"Then here, sir," exclaimed the Count, with the
loftiest and most dignified indignation, " is an
order for the immediate release of this cruelly-

injured young gentleman:" — and instead of hand-
ing the document, his lordship almost tlung it at
Granby.

Almost overcome by my feelings, — feelings of
such wild joy that I cannot possibly describe
them, — I sank upon the pallet. The Commissioner,
who had remained ia the room, made a quick sign
to the keepers ; they rushed forward — and in the
twinkling of an eye the straight-waistcoat was
stripped off me. Then the first use I made of my
liberated arms was to seize the hand of the Count
and press it in gratitude to my lips. Again he
embraced me — he wrung both my hands with most
fervid congratulation : were he my brother he
could not possibly have exhibited more truly frater-
nal emotions.

Meanwhile Granby had glanced his eyes over
the document; and turning to the Commissioner,
he said in an appealing tone, " It is only too
evident that my Lord Count of Livorno appears
to consider that I have unjustly detained his friend
Mr. Wilmot here : but you, sir, can bear me out
in asserting the legality of his detention "

"Enough, sir!" interrupted the Count of
Livorno sternly : " it is but too true that you have
the law upon vour side! But it is impossible that
during a period of six months you could have con-
tinuously laboured under a mistake as to Mr.
Wilmot's perfect sanity. !Xo, sir — you knew that
he was sane ! — but selfishness induced you to blind
your eyes to the fact ; and for the sake of a large
revenue you drowned the scruples of conscience
— you detained within these walls a young gentle-
man who, as you knew full well, had no right to
be here !"

"I think, my lord," said the Commissioner,
"that you are somewhat severe upon Mr.
Granby "

" I learnt from his domestics, sir," responded
the Count, still speaking with indignant sternness,
" that Mr. Granby was engaged with an inspect-
ing official ; and I therefore presume that you are
he. Did you listen, sir, to whatsoever remon-
strances Mr. Wilmot could scarcely have failed to
address unto you ? Did you order his liberation ?
ITfo ! — you were leaving the room at the instant I
made my appearance : you were abandoning him
to that cruel, that ignominious, that horrible posi-
tion in which I found him ! Your inspection, sir,
is a mockery — your ofiieial visit a delusion ! The
country to which you belong boasts of its freedom
— whereas I belong to a country which, alas ! can
make no such boast. Yet there is at least one
point on which I may rejoice in the superior
civilization of Tuscany over that of England, — ■
which is that it is impossible under the rule of
my uncle the Grand Duke for any such atrocity
to be perpetrated as that of which my young friend
has been made the victim. But enough ! Come,
Joseph — come, my dear Wilmot — and shake off
the dust from your feet at the threshold of this
horrible prison-house !"

" It would afilict me much, my lord," said the
Commissioner, '• if you and Mr. Wilmot were to
depart with an evil impression "

"And I am sure," immediately added Mr.
Granby, with a look and tone of fawning servility,
" that I hope there will be forgiveness— at least
allowances made -"

" Let us depart, my dear Count !" I said en-

treatingly, as I hastily slipped on my coat: "for
to breathe the air of freedom ■"

" Come then, Joseph !" — and the Count of
LiYorno, giving me his arm, made an imperious
gesture for the group to stand aside.

" What ! not one word of farewell, Mr. "Wil-
mot ?" said Granby, who looked not merely crest-
fallen, but also frightened : " not one syllable after
all the kindness "

" Touch me not, sir !" I ejaculated : for he had
placed his hand upon my arm.

He stepped back a pace or two, utterly dis-
comfited ; and I saw likewise that the Commis-
sioner himself had a look of uneasiness : but
tarrying to behold no more, I accompanied the
Count from the room. Oh! what language can
describe the wild pulsations of joy with which my
heart now throbbed, as I descended the stairs in
company with this faithful, kind, and devoted
friend of mine ! The instant we reached the hall,
97

Mrs. Granby came advancing towards me with a
half-smirking smile upon her countenance, but also
with a certain look of uneasiness ; and proffering
her hand, she said, " Will you not permit me, Mr.
Wilmot, to wish you good bye ? — for I have aU
ready learnt from my Lord Count of Livorno that
you are going to leave us."

" Madam," I answered coldly, and not appear-
ing to notice her proffered hand, " I am only too
much pleased to bid you farewell."

I then passed on with the Count, — who merely
bestowed a distant salutation upon the lady. An
equipage was at the door ; and I immediately re-
cognised it to be the Earl of Eccleston's : but
though full of the most impatient curiosity to re-
ceive explanations of how all this fortunate turn
in my circumstances had been brought about, I
could not at that moment put any questions — for
Mr. Granby came rushing after us ; and with an-
other obsequious bow, he said to the Count "Will

354

JOSEPH WILMOT; OB, THE MKMOntB Ol? A MAJI-SEEVANT.

Dot your lorikblp renuiin a fevv minutes while Mr.
Wilmot's boxes are bein;j packed up ?"

" Not a minute !" responded the Count of
Livorno sternly. "This is not a place , where
men tarry of their own accord."

" But I have money belonging to Mr. Wilmot,"
urged Granby, still fawning and obsequious, not-
withstanding the rebuffs ho experienced.

" Send everything to the Earl of Eccleston's in
Manchester Square," rejoined the Count curtly.

We then entered the carriage ; and though Mr.
Grranby remained hat in hand on the steps of his
front door to see us off, we did not bestow another
look upon him. The equipage rolled away : my
heart leapt with joy : I could scarcely believe it
possible that I was verily and actually about to
quit that asylum. Oh, to think that I was depart-
ing from that edifice within whose walls I had en-
dured so much mental anguish! — to think that the
gates at which I had often and ofton looked so
wistfully, should now be standing open to give me
freedom ! And as the carriage passed through the
grounds, the emotions seemed to swell into my
very throat as I marked spots v>here retrospective
memory conjured up recollections of especial
anguish. There, on one occasion, h:;d I leant
against a tree overcome with grief «s I had asked
myself whether I should ever again see Annabel ?
There I had plucked a forget-me-not flower, and
had wept bitterly over it— for it was a flower that
spoke of love; but with incfTuLlo sadness at the
time I had asked myself whether my love would
ever bo blessed ? There in thrilling hopefulness 1
bad listened to the plausible but delusive repre-
sentations of poor old Cooper. There, again, I
bad yielded with an equal credulity to the state-
ments of the younger madman who had repre-
sented himself as the nephew of Granby. And
now we reached the gates. There was the spot on
which only some three hours back I had engaged
in the struggle with the porter in the hope of
escaping. Oh ! little had I foreseen at the time

that my deliverance was so near at hand ~or

else I could have waited ! And there stood the
porter himself, cap in hand, as the carriage rolled
past his lodge : but I only glanced at him for an

instant : I was anxious words can scarcely tell

liow anxious, to obtain the earliest glimpse of the
road outside those walls ; for to me it was the path
of freedom 1

And now I was really free : I was beyond the
precincts of the asylum. There was no chance of
its being all a dream ! — no risk that I should
waken up from some sweet vision of freedom to
find that it was a delusion, and that the morning's
light glimmered upon my eyes through the bars
of a mad-house ! O heaven ! how often and oflea
bad I experienced such dreams in my chamber at
that place!— how elated had been my soul while
they lasted — how despondingly it sank when they
ended! Now all was exultation; and there was no
despondency. I was like a child escaping from
the terrors of a stern pedagogue and hastening
home for the holidays : I was like the long im-
prisoned bird let loose from its cage to soar on
light triumphant wing up to the very vault of
heaven. And again and again was my gratitude
poured forth to the Count of Li vorno— though as
yet I only knew the one fact that I had to thank
him for my liberation; but I conticued utterly '

ignorant of the circumstances in which it had
been brought about, and how he himself had be-
come the instrument of that joyous consumma-
tion.

" My Aeax Wilmot," said the Count, as the car-
riage rolled along, " this is a day of excitement for
you : but you must exercise all your fortitude — •
you must arm yourself with all your self-possession
— so that with as much calmness as possible "

"You have important things to tell me!" I ex-
claimed, fevered with curiosity.

"Now, my dear Joseph, do tranquillize your-
self!" said the Count : "speak as little as possible
— avoid putting abrupt questions— and let mc
talk to you after ray own fashion. We are going
to Manchester Square— and Joseph, it is to a
house over which waves death's sable wing ! "

" Death ?" I repeated, with a sudden start,
" Tell me— the Countess "

"No, Joseph — the Earl himself!" rejoined the

Count. " It is he pray tranquillize yourself

it is he who i.i dying !"

" The Earl dying !" I murmured : and hero I
cannot explain the ineffable feelings which seized
upon me.

"Yes, my dear friend— the Earl of Eccloston is
at the point of death I" proceeded the Count of
Livorno. " He may live a few hours : it is scarcely
possible that he can live for another day. You
will see him, Joseph and now prepare your-
self! Yes, my dear young friend, all that you and
I have at times dimly speculated upon — all that
we have conjectured — all that Dorchester pro-
claimed to be his conviction of the truth— all is
true! — and within the hour that is passing you
will receive that assurance from the lips of the
dying man."

I sank back in the carriage, and abandoned
myself to the thoughts which these words con-
jured up. Though everything which for some
time past I had anticipated was about to be rea-
lized, yet still it had the effect of something
which took me by surprise — of something which
I had never thought of before; and therefore it
almost overpowered me. Tears too trickled down
my cheeks: but, Oh! for how different a cause
wept I now, from that for which I had wept so
bitterly a few hours back within the waifs of the
asylum !

" And this illness which is to prove so fatal ?" I
at length falteringly asked : " whence arose it ?
what is its nature ?"

"li; was an accident, Joseph," answered the
Count of Livorno : " and the Earl of Eecleston is
doopjed to be cut off in the prime of life ■"

"But the accident?" I anxiously demanded.

"Ha was yesterday thrown with violence from
his horse," responded the Count: "the injuries
are most serious — they are internal — he cannot
possibly survive them. And it was only yesterday,
Joseph, that I arrived in London. Listen to me :
I will tell you how it was. Nearly six months
have elapsed since you and I parted in Florence.
You were then setting off for Milan. Thence you
wrote to acquaint me with everything which had
occurred in that city. The next letter — which was
also the last — was dated from London. You
therein informed me that the hour was approach-
ing when all mystery was to cease — when cer-
tainty was to take the place of doubt — and when

JOSEPH WILMOT; OR, THE MEMOIRS OP A MAN-SERVANT.

35S

the Earl of Eceleston's promise, made to you at
Milan, would be fulfilled. I anxiously expected
another communication. Days and days passed —
■ they grew into weeks — and still I heard nothing
from you. I must candidly confess, my dear
Joseph, that I felt hurt — —"

'•' Oh, could you suppose me guilty of such in-
gratitude !" I e:sclaimed.

"Forgive me : I misjudged you," answered the
Count. " And yet you will see that I was scarcely
to blame : for your last letter, written from the
hotel in Holborn, was so positive in its assurances
that you were at length touching upon the reali-
zation of all your hopes, that I could not fancy
you were deceiving yourself. Besides, 1 calculated
that if it were otherwise, you would write to an-
nounce your disappointment and to explain the
reasons of your failure. But, on the other hand,
I thought to myself that you had succeeded— that
you had therefore suddenly entered upon a new
career — and that amidst all the varied avocations
and under all the different influences thereof, you
could not immediately find leisure for a lengthy
correspondence. Then, as time passed by and
weeks grew into months, I certainly felt hurt and
annoyed, because I had formed so high an opinion
of you that I felt assured you could not be un-
mindful of old friendship."

" !N'o, never — never, my dear Count !" I ex-
claimed, pressing his hand with effusion. " Oh !
you know not how often I have thought of you !
— how often I have cried out in the loud voice of
my agony, calling upon your name and beseeching
you to come to my succour ! And I too on my
part fancied that you bad abandoned me -"

" But now you are convinced otherwise, my dear
Wilmot," interrupted the Count of Livorno. " Let
me however proceed in my explanations. After
the lapse of some months I received a letter from
the Count of Monte d'Oro in Corsica, representing
how uneasy he was at your long silence, and en-
treating me to inform him if I had recently heard
from you. I should observe that the Count of
Monte d'Oro had on a former occasion written to
me, to express his grateful thanks for the interest
I had displayed in procuring the pardon from the
Tuscan 'and Austrian Governments. I hastened
to reply to the Count, explaining my astonish-
ment, which was now also growing into uneasi-
ness, concerning you. At about the same time I
received letters from the Counts of Tivoli and
Avellino, — all entreating me to give them, some
information relative to your proceedings if it lay
in my power to afford it. But this was not all : 1
was waited upon by a Scotch gentleman "

"Saltcoats?" I exclaimed, at once comprehend-
ing who this visitor must be.

" Yes — the same," rejoined the Count of
Livorno : " and though naturally such a jovial-
lookiug happy man, yet was he now perfectly mis-
erable and greatly distressed concerning you.
He said that he had often heard you speak with
joyous feelings of your friendship with me ; and
that therefore he had come to ascertain if I could
afford him any intelligence concerning you. He
told me that when last you saw each other in
Paris — which must have been soon after you left
Milan — you gave him the address of an hotel in
Holborn whither you were about to repair. He
had inquired for you there, and had learnt that

you left it with exceeding suddenness : he evea
suspected that there was some disinclination on
the part of the people of the hotel to be as ex-
plicit as they had it in their power to prove. The
kind-hearted man, it appeared, had gone hunting
for you everywhere ; and at length, after the lapse
of many months, he resolved to address himself to
me. Finding, therefore, my dear Joseph, that
none of your friends knew anything of you, I re-
solved to come to England and institute every
possible inquiry. My preparations were soou
made ; and it was about a fortnight after Mr.
Saltcoats' visit that I set out for London. I
arrived here yesterday : I went to that hotel in
Holboru ; and I insisted upon knowing under what
circumstiinces you had left the establishment some
six months ago. The people of the hotel at first
positively refused to answer any questions, — pre-
tending that they were not accountable for the
actions or proceedings of gentlemen who had at
any time lodged with them. I then told them
who I was, — that I was the Count of Livorno, the
Grand Duke of Tuscany's nephew — that I should
invoke the aid of the Tuscan Ambassador at the
British Court — and that the British Government
would render me every assistance in carrying out
the object which I had in view. The hotel people
grew frightened; and they at length became
explicit. I then learnt, to my mingled horror
and indignation, that your friends had found it
necessary to place you under restraint ; bub that
the people at the hotel had been enjoined, for
family reasons connected with yourself, to keep the
matter profoundly secret."

The Count of Livorno paused for a few mo-
ments ; and then continued in the following
manner : —

" I felt convinced that this was a piece of
treachery on the Earl of Eceleston's part, or f-lsa
on that of Lanover. I comprciiended it all ! You
had disappeared at the vety time the Earl's pro-
mise was to have been fulfilled ; you had been
taken from the hotel, as the books of the establish-
ment showed, on the very same day on which you
had penned that last letter to me. Your subse-
quent silence was thus most completely though
most painfully accounted for; and. Oh! my doar
Joseph, how I reproached myself for having suf-
fered so long a period to elapse ere I interested
myself on your behalf !"

'•' Blame not yourself, my dear Count," I said :
" you could not possibly foresee nor fathom all the
cruel treachery that was thus making me its vic-
tim! But pray proceed "

" I will, Joseph," continued the Count of
Livorno. "Having learnt as much as I could
glean from the people of the hotel — who, I should
observe, were perfectly ignorant of the place to
which you had been consigned — I went straight
to Manchester Square. I demanded an inter-
view with the Earl of Eccleston. This v/as at
about three o'clock yesterday afternoon. Ho
was out riding on horseback ; and the Countess
was out visiting in her carriage. I said that 1
would wait. And not long I waited before I
found myself destined to be the witness of a sad
spectacle— a spectacle in which the hand of retri-
butive justice seemed only too apparent. .For in
a hired vehicle the Earl was brought in an almost
lifeless state— that nobleman still quite in the

356

JOSEPH WILMOT; OB, THE MEMOIRS OP A MAK-SERVAXT.

prime of life— so handsome — and of such com-
Boanding presence ! As I have already told you,
he had been thrown from his horse. The Countess
soon afterwards returned ; and she was seized with
the wildest grief. I could make no inquiries then
amidst those distressing circumstances ; — and I
departed. But at nine o'clock this morning I was
at Eccleston House again. I saw the Countess :
she was overwhelmed with grief — but she con-
ducted me to her husband's chamber. There I
learnt from his lips where you were. I will tell
you no more what then took place — unless it be
that an order for your release was speedily drawn
up, and the Earl signed it, the Countess guiding
his hand. Then, Joseph, I lost no time in repair-
ing to Bayswater to effect your liberation."

The moment this narrative concluded— and be-
fore I had time to express my deep gratitude for
all the generous and affectionate interest which the
Count of Livorno had displayed on my behalf — the
equipage rolled up to the front of Eccleston House
in Manchester Square. I cannot now describe the
feelings which took possession of me. That I was
at length standing upon the very threshold of the
confirmation of all I believed and hoped, I could no
longer doubt. There was no possibility of any
perfidious treatment nor of any treacherous machi-
nations now ! Tlie presence of the Count of Li-
vorno was a guarantee that I had nothing to
apprehend, and that everything which I dared
anticipate would be fulfilled. Oh ! how my heart
beat— how my heart beat ! Header, here I am
compelled to lay down for a few moments the auto-
biographic pen : for the memories of that occasion
come rushing in unto my brain — they surge up in
it — my soul is filled with ineffable emotions. But
let me tranquillize myself: let me resume the
thread of my narrative.

"Joseph, my dear young friend, calm yourself,"
said the Count of Livorno, taking my hand and
pressing it with a true fraternal warmth, as the
carriage thus stopped at the door of Eccleston
House in Manchester Square.

That door was immediately opened : a footman
came forth — and we alighted from the carriage.
"We were conducted up-stairs to a back drawing-
room, where the Countess of Eccleston rose to re-
ceive us. Yes — she rose from her seat — but it
was to fold me in her arms !

Reader, you will perhaps think I am about to
deal capriciously with you, inasmuch as it is my
purpose to leave at this point a gap in my nar-
rative,— but a gap which will be shortly filled up,
and then you will learn everything. You will ac-
knowledge too, kind reader, when the moment of
fullest explanation shall come, that for the pur-
poses of my narrative I am adopting the wiser
course in thus temporarily deferring the elucida-
tion of many mysteries. Sufiiee it for the present
to say that the Count of Livorno left me alone
with Lady Eccleston ; and after a brief space I
was conducted to the chamber of his lordship.
The Earl was at the point of death. During the
interval while the Count of Livorno was efiFccting
my liberation from the lunatic-asylum, the Earl
had broken a blood-vessel internally, and his phy-
sicians had no power to save him. His life was
ebbing away while I knelt by his bed-side ; and
Oh! irwas amidst torrents of tears and convul-
sing sobs that I not merely murmured forgiveness

for all that I had endured at his hands, but that I
breathed prayers to heaven that mercy might be
shown unto tlio soul that was about to wing its
flight thither. He retained his consciousness al-
most to the last ; and it was precisely at the hour
of noon, on the 8th of November, 1842, that the
Earl of Eccleston breathed his last.

It is here that the great gap in my narrative is
to take place, — a gap however which, as I have
already said, shall be filled up in due time. The
funeral took place on the 13th of November; and
it was conducted with as much privacy as could be
observed under the circumstances. On the morn-
ing of the 14th I set out by an early train on my
journey northward. I travelled alone: I was bent
upon an expedition which was of all-absorbing in-
terest for myself: I required to be in the complete
possession of all my own thoughts, without the
necessity of devoting them to a companion. The
Count of Livorno, fully comprehending that such
was the state of my mind, had not offered to
accompany me ; and when, impelled by a feeling of
friendship and gratitude, I had asked him whether
he would not go with me on that occasion, he had
said, " No, Joseph : you must proceed alone ! There
is in every respect a species of sanctity connected
with this incident of your life, which must not be
disturbed or intruded on, even by your best friend
— as I am proud to call mjself, and as I know that
you regard me!"

Thus was it that I was travelling alone; and
fortunately I had a compartment in the railway
carriage all to myself from London to Manchester.
I cannot here describe the entire state of my feeU
ings, because that would be to anticipate the
elucidation of those matters which I have pur-
posely reserved for a future chapter. But this
much I may tell the reader — that the image of
Annabel was never once absent from my mind.
Did I experience any suspense — any anxiety — any
apprehension as to what the decision of Sir Mat-
thew Heseltine would he? No! — in this respect
I was full of hope; and I had moreover received
the assurance that those whom I was about to visit
were in good health. This assurance had been
considerately obtained for me by tlie Count of
Livorno from Mr. Tennant, Sir Matthew's solicitor
in London — that same solicitor, as the reader will
recollect, at whose office I had first discovered how
closely connected Mrs. Lanover and Annabel were
with the Westmoreland Baronet. And now I was
on my way into Westmoreland ; — after having
passed through so many adventures, I was about
to keep the appointment which two years back
Sir Matthew Heseltine had so definitely and ex-
pressly made. Oh ! the long-wished for day was
now close at hand! — and 1 felt that it was to be
one of the most important, and at all events, the
most dearly interesting in the course of my
chequered career. Good heavens ! what a mar-
vellous history was mine! — how fraught with the
wonders of romance— yet all so true! And now
Annabel — thou whom I had so long and so ten-
derly loved — thou whose image for seven years
had ever been uppermost in my mind— thou whose
azure eyes had ever seemed to shine upon me like
guiding stars of tenderness and hope amidst all
that I had gone through — thou whom I had
•looked upon as the good genius whose image could
! raise me up from despair at those times when my

JOSEPH WIIMOT; OE THE MEMOIES OP A MAN- SERVANT.

337

Boul was sinking into the abyss of despondency —
thou, beauteous creature, an angel in loveliness as
well as in disposition — it was thou, Annabel, to
whom I was now speeding ! — thou whose hand I
was soon to claim as that of my bride !

It was about five o'clock in the evening that I
arrived at Manchester ; and I proceeded to the
very hotel where Sir Matthew Heseltine had put
up on the occasion when I accompanied him in
his journey from Keading to the home of his an-
cestors. Ah ! the last time that I had crossed the
threshold of this hotel, upwards of two years back,
it was as a dependant and a menial : but now how
altered were my circumstances ! By a strange
accident I was shown to the very sitting-room
which Sir Matthew had occupied during our brief
sojourn at that hotel on the occasion to which I
have just referred. It almost seemed to me as if I
could select the very chair in which ho sate in that
room, when I stood in his presence and he bade
me take whatsoever advantage I chose of a few
Lours' leisure in that city. As I thought of the
difference between my position then and what it
naw was, my feelings overpowered me and the tears
trickled down my cheeks. TVas it all a dream ?
could it possibly be a reality ? Oh yes it was a
reality ! — and I was there, in that hotel — in that
very room — enabled to say unto myself that the
circumstances of the world and the mysterious
dispensations of providence had indeed worked
marvels for me !

I dined at the hotel : that is to say, I ordered
dinner for form's sake — and I sate down to it : but
my heart was too full of a variety of emotions to
allow me the enjoyment of appetite. The repast
was therefore soon disposed of ; and I then pro-
ceeded to call upon my friends the Rowlands. It
was upwards of two years since I had seen them ;
and then they had received me most kindly. I
felt it to be my duty to pay them this visit now,
although I would have rather deferred it to a future
occasion when I might give them all those expla-
nations which at present I could not give, inas-
much as I was resolved that first of all the intelli-
gence which 80 intimately concerned myself should
be communicated to the inmates of Heseltine
nail.

I reached the Rowlands' house : the door was
opened by the tall footman, who was delighted to
see me, I remembered his kindness of a former
day, when a wretched, houseless, and starving
wanderer, I had sunk down exhausted on that
very door-step where I now stood ; and I was re-
joiced that I at length possessed the means of ex-
hibiting my gratitude.

** Are your master and mistress well, Thomas ?"
I inquired.

" Perfectly, sir," he responded : " and they will
be very glad to see you. Walk this way "

"One moment, Thomas!" I said, detaining him
in the hall. " Do you remember how we first
met ? Do you recollect that when you found me
lying upon your door-steps, you spoke kindly of
me to your master and mistress ? — and you said
that I was no common mendieant. Never have I
forgotten those words !"

" But why speak of them, Mr. "Wilmot r" asked
the good-natured footman, his lips quivering with
emotion. "Did you not turn out everything that
was excellent and good ? — and was I liot rejoiced

when about a couple of years back, you called
here and I learnt that your position had greatly
changed and you had become a young gentleman ?
And you know very well, sir, that I was not
jealous when I saw you sitting down with master

and mistress at that very table "

'■' "Where I had once waited as a menial, Thomas,"
I added, with much emotion. " No ! you were
not jealous — you took au opportunity to congra-
tulate me "

" And you forced a bank note into my hand,
Mr. Wilmot, when you went away," added Thomas;
"and I was sorry you did it, because it seemed as
if you wished to pay me in money for any little
act of Christian kindness I had on a former occa-
sion been able to render you."

"It was a kindness, Thomas," I said, " which I
never could forget. Circumstances have improved
with me: I am still better off than I even was on
that day to which we have just referred. Now be
not offended at what I am going to do ! It is not
that I seek to acquit myself of my obligation to
you — because that is impossible. I am merely
testifying my gratitude. You must accept this
as a proof thereof. Not another word, Thomas !
You will pain me if you refuse." •

I thrust into his hand a banknote for a hundred
pounds; and then I hastened on to the parlour, —
that well-known parlour in which Mr. and Mrs.
Rowland were accustomed to sit when I was in
their service. And there they now were, at the
tea-table — the blaze of a cheerful fire playing upon
their benevolent countenances. They both gave
utterance to ejaculations of joy on recognising me ;
and then a shade came over their features as they
simultaneously perceived that I was in deep
mourning.

"Ask me no questions, my kind friends," I said,
" relative to this :" and I g'anced down at my black
dress. " I can give no explanations now. In a
short time 1 shall see you again — and then you shall
knosv everything. I have but a few hours to spare
in Manchester ; and it was alike a pleasure and a
duty to come and visit you."

With what cordial warmth were both my hands
wrung by Mr. and Mrs. Rowland ! — how kindly
they spoke to me ! — how they welcomed me to
their house! — and how annoyed they were that
I had not made it my quarters instead of sojourn-
ing at a hotel ! I sate down to tea with them ;
and it appeared as if- this worthy couple could not
make too much of me. I suffered them to under-
stand that since I had last seen them, another and
most important change had taken place in my
condition, and that I was now totally independent
of the world. But more than this I said not ; and
they did not press me for those explanations which
they concluded I had very excellent reasons for
postponing. Yet it was with the most unfeigned
sincerity they congratulated me upon this new im-
provement in my condition; and they gazed upoa
me with compassionate interest — for they naturally
associated the improvement to which I referred
with the mourning garb which I wore. I inquired
concerning their nephew Stephen and his bride,
the patrician Gertrude: I learnt that they were
both well, and that their union was one of com-
pletest happiness in every respect. It appeared
that the old Marquis of Cluluam had died some
time back ; but as his end aiiproached, ho had re-

358

JOSEPH ^ILMOT ; OE, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SEETANT.

pented of his harsh conduct towards bis daughter
— that a complete reeoaciliation with her family
had taken place — and slie was handsomely remem-
bered in her father's will. I expressed the plea-
sure with which I recctvt^d this intelligence; and
after passing a couple of hours with the worthy
old old couple, I returned to the hotel.

CHAPTER CLII.

THE 15th OB NOVEMBEB.

The morning of the memorable loth of Novem-
ber, 1842, dawned ; and though it was the month
for fog, and mist, and gloom, yet was this day as
bright a one as if Autumn li'iiseU' had forgotten
that he was so close upon extinction, or as if
Winter had omitted as yet to make an approach
towaras claiming the allegiance of the season. I
heralded the sunbeams which glinted through the
murky atniosphere of Manchester, as the emblems
of that hop^luluGss with which the day began to
dawn for me, and the harbingers of the happiness
which at a later hour I was to experience. I
started by an early train ; and it was about eleven
o'clock in the forenoon when I alighted at the
station at Kendal in Westmoreland. I left my
trunk there, with the intimation that I would send
for it presently; and I set out to walk to my des-
tination.

Tho weather was indeed beautiful : the sun was
shining brightly — the atmosphere had a healthful
freshness^ totally distinct from misty dampness.
It was such a breeze that was well calculated to
brace the physical energies, and thereby cheer the
spirits. But I walked slowly along the broad road
leading to Heseltiue Hall : the distance was only
a couplo of miles — and I had resolved to fulfil Sir
Matthew's injunction to the very letter v namely,
to present myself before him precisely at the hour
of noon on this memorable day. Oh ! what ineff-
able feelings filled my heart as each step brought
me nearer to my destination, and as I recoguisod
object after object along that road I To use a
vulgar yet very expressive term, my heart ap-
peared to come up into my very throat : I could
scarcely prevent myself from sobbing with joy :
sweet tears of bliss and hope were constantly start-
ing into my eyes as I walked along that road. But,
oh ! how can I describe what I felt when I caught
the first glimpse of the tall chimneys of the old
mansion peeping above the trees which had well
nigh lost all their foliage ? That was the home of
Annabel : beneath that roof dwelt the beloved
being: thither was I proceeding — that was my de-
stination. Oh ! joy supreme ! Was the last hour of
the prescribed period of self-exile from that mansion
now passing ? was the clock full soon to proclaim
the moment when I was to find myself once more
in the presence of the charming and well-beloved
Annabel P What a reward for all I had suflercd !
■what a recompense for all I had gone through ! —
and I may perhaps be pardoned if during those
lapsing minutes of blissful expectation, I felt not
that the recent circumstancas which had occurred
at Eccleston House in London retained upon my
mind that heavy and dismal impression which they
bad hitherto, made.

Nearer and nearer I approached to ray destina-
tion. Eorgive me, reader, if I am thus minute iu
the details of my feciiiigs and emotions oa this
eventful day. Perhaps you yourself can appreciate
the luxury of those feelings: peradventure your
own heart can eater into all that constituted those
emotions. If so, you can understand how it was
that I halted and leant against a tree for support
when I reached a spot whence I could command a
full view of Heseltiue Hall. And here I wept
delicious tears; and having dried my eyes, I con-
tinued my way. Another ten minutes' walk, and
I reached the entrance to the estate. The great
iron gates stood wide open ; and yet there was no
equipage in sight — none that had just passed in —
none that was just coming out. Oh ! was it for
me that these gates were thrown open ? was it a
symbol of the welcome that I was to receive at
that mansion which stood on the gentle eminence
a quarter of a mile distant ?

All in a moment I found myself confronted by
ft happy group. The old porter, his daughter
Phosbe, his son-in-law Reuben, and their four
children (they had only three when I left the Hall
two years back) came forth from the lodge with
smiling countenances, evidently to welcome me.
Tbey were all dressed in their holiday apparel ;
and their eyes were beaming with joy and delight.
I accosted them : I endeavoured to speak— to
make inquiries concerning those in whom I was
so deeply interested at the Hall : but my words
could not find utterance — my voice was choked
with the emotions that surged up from the depths
of my heart. And now a soft melancholy shade
came over the countenances of the old ma", his '
daughter, and her husband, as they observed for
the first time that I was iu deep mourniug.

" Have you lost some one, Mr. Wilmot," asked
the old porter, iu a low voice and with hesitating
manner, " who is dear to you .''" — then, as he per-
ceived the tears trickling duwn my cheeks, he
added, " Whatsoever this loss may be, it is not
known at the Hall ; and therefore perhaps — uuder
existing circumstances — and cunsidering the pre-
parations made — my Reuben here had better run
up in advance "

" No, no, my good old man !" I said, taking
him by the hand and pressing it with fervour ;
"let everything remain as Sir Matthew has de-
creed it ! 1 see — Oh ! I see from what you have
said, it is indeed to bo a day of happiness "

But I stopped short : for again my emotions
suffocated me.

The old porter, dashing away the tears from his
own eyes, pointed through tbe open door into the
lodge ; and I beheld the table covered with a
snowy napkin, and with decanters of wine upon it
— while the numerous vessjls upon the fire and
the hobs indicated an extraordinary degree of
festive preparation in that humble tenement.

" There will be a Little banquet here to-day,
Mr. Wilmot," said the old man, " as there will bo
a grand one up at the Hall. And your health, sir,
will be drunk with joyous welcome beneath this
roof. Yet if your own heart is sad "

" No, no !" I exclaimed : and then in the cflTa-
sion of my feelings, I grasped the hands of tho
adults, and I caressed the children. "Be happy —
be happy, my good people! It is a day which
God hiinseli has sent for us all to be h«ppy here!"

JOSEPH WILMOT; OH, THE MEMOrRS OT' A MAX-SERVAKT.

359

"With those words I burst nbruptly away from
the little group ; and I hurried up the avenue to-
wards the house. For some monaeuts I could only
see the innnsion indistinctly through the dimness
of my tears. I am searching for language, reader,
to convey an idea of the emotions which I expe-
rience i : but I cannot find words to express my
feelings. Oh ! I thought within myself, that
though I came clad in mourning-apparet, yet would
it be the most miserable of aifoctations to pretend
that my heart was in utter mourning likewise!
Therefore there must be no damp thrown upon
whatsoever welcome was prepared forme! — there
must bo no saddening influence shed upon the
souls of those whom I was about to meet ! For
the words of the porter had vividly recalled to my
recollection the parting promise of Sir Matthew
two years back : — " Then come, Joseph ! be sure to
come ! — and rest assured that you shall be received
with open arms. Yes— there shall be festivities

and rejoicings and God grant that I may be

alive to welcome the wanderer home !"

And God had granted the old Baronet's fervent
wish : he was alive— and he was well : and not
merely the half-uttered hints of the porter, but my
own heart told me, that his arms would be ex-
tended to receive me.

On I went : nearer and nearer I drew to the
house. I looked up towards the windows : but not
a single countenance did I behold there. A mo-
mentary chill of disappointment seized upon me :
but, O heaven! how quickly was it dispelled — with
what swiftness did it turn into a thrill of gushing
emotions — when at the very moment the old clock
on the summit of the Hall began proclaiming the
hour of nooD, a band struck up its superb harmony ;
and forth from the portals of the venerable man-
sion poured Sir Matthew's tenantry, with their
wives and little ones, all apparelled in their gala-
dresses. I staggered — I reeled — I felt an intoxi-
cation of the brain : it was a wildness of happiness
— an ecstasy of feeling — a paradise of thrilling
emotions, which even these words which I am using
are puny and insignificant to describe !

Loud rang forth the grand harmony in strains
of pealing welcome ; and now upon the threshold I
caught sight of a group whose presence all in a
moment gave wings to my teet — and on I sped.
There was Sir Matthew Heseltine : there was Mrs.
Lanover : and there was Annabel, — Annabel, the

angel of my idolatry — the joy of my heart and

O heaven, how beautiful! A cry of wild delight
rang from my lips as I thus bounded forward. And
the old Baronet's arms were open to receive me ;
and they closed around me — and as I sank sobbing
upon his breast, he said, " Welcome, my dear
boy! — ten thousand welcomes greet thee to thy
home!"

And the music pealed forth its kindred strains ;
and then Annabel was folded In my embrace. Yes,
before all the assembled tenantry did I embrace her
thus : for I no longer saw that crowd — I heard not
their cheers — I had no eyes nor sense for anything
except the ono object of my long devoted love — the
darling of my heart, the bright and beauteous An-
nabel 1 Nor did her mother chide me that I should
have thus poured forth my gushing feelings in re-
spect to her daughter, before giving any attention
to herself: and it was with a voice full of deepest
emotion that Mrs. Lanover, when I at length

turned towards her, said, as she folded me in her
arms, " God be thanked ! you are returned, my
dear boj'— and Annabel is your own !"

I was conducted up towards the great drawinor.
room : but on the way thither, the old Baronet
and the ladies suddenly observed for the first time
that I was in mourning ; and Sir Matthew, stop-
ping short, said, '"' Joseph, what means this ?" — at
the same time glancing at my vesture.

"Ask me not for explanations now, my dear

sir," I responded. " You, see that I am happy

Oh, I hrtve every reason to be happy !" — and I car-
ried the hand of Annabel to my lips.

The Baronet said no more on that occasion with
regard to the mourning; and we entered the
drawing-room. There we all four sate down — not
for immediate conversation — our hearts wore too
full for discourse. We looked at one another, — a
thousand delightful things being expressed in our
eyes; and not for a single moment did the Bironefc
display any of those eccentricities which ha(l been
wont to characterize him during the former period
of our acquaintance. I sate next to Amiabel, —
her delicate white hand clasped in my own — that
hand which I knew would be mine, and that by it
I should lead her to the altar ! I have already
said how beautiful she looked : her appearance was
absolutely ravishing. An ineffable joy shone in
her large azure eyes; but there was the blush of
maiden bashfulness upon her damask cheeks. The
rich masses of her golden hair floated upon her
ivory shoulders : a half smile of bliss, which parted
her vermilion lips, disclosed the pearly teeth with-
in. Her figure — tall and exquisitely symmetrical
— was only just so much expanded from the more
sylphid slendcrness of an earlier period as to take
the developments proper to her age : for she was
now in her twenty-third year. This was likewise
my age ; and presently, when our tongues began
to unlock themselves, and our feelings allowed us
to give utterance to our thoughts, 1 was compli-
mented by Sir Matthew and Mrs. Lanover on the
improvement, as thpy were pleased to term it,
which had taken place in my own appearance. In-
deed, during the two years of our separation, I
had lost that boyishness of look whic'o had cha-
racterized mo at the time of my self-exile ; aad
my mirror had told me that I had acquired a moro
manly air.

As for Annabel, I cannot help again referring to
her matchless, her wondrous beauty. The lithe,
slender, fairy-shaped girl who seven years back
had burst like a charming vision upon my sight on
the first day of my introduction to Lanover's house
in Bloomsbury, had now expanded into the lovely
and well-developed young woman. Yet still she
looked younger than she really tvas : for there was
a certain halo of girlish innocence, so to speak, in-
vesting her with its pure light and holy anima»
tion ; and it was .easy to read in her looks that sh'^
was the same artless, unsophisticated, chaste-
minded being that she was a6 the time wo first be-
came acquainted. She knew more of the world, it
is true — but only to profit by that experience in a
good sense, and to have none of the first freshness
of her youthful feelings marred by that more ex-
tended knowledge.

When once we had begun to discourse, we all
four of us soon got on to talk more quickly : wo
had BO many things to say ! Bat when I spoko of

360

JOSEPH WltMOT; OE, THE MBMOIRS OP A MA.:f-3GRVAirT.

all that I had gone through sLace we parted, aud
of the marvellous adventures which I had to relate,
I perceived that Sir Matthew Heseltine smiled
significantly: Mrs. Lanover smiled likewise: and
when I looked at Annabel, she said in a low voice,
but one that was full of deepest emotion, "We
know, my dear Joseph, how much we are indebted
to you for your gallant behaviour in the Apennines
— likewise for the chivalrous magnanimity with
which you plunged into danger on our account in
respect to the Greek pirates !"

" You know all these things ?" I exclaimed in
Rstonishment. " How did they reach your know-
ledge ?"

" Come, I see, Joseph," said Sir Matthew Hesel-
tine, rising from his seat, " that the sooner you
aud I have a little discourse together, the better.
I am sorry to separate you even for a few minutes
from your Annabel : but when once this little pri-
vate interview is over, you will be at full liberty to
enjoy each other's presence to your heart's con-
tent. Yet, my dear boy," added the Baronet,
while a shade came over his countenance, " you
Lave yet to tell us for whom this mourning garb is
worn "

" All ! I see," I interrupted Sir Matthew, '■' that
there are still certain points on which you have
explanations to receive from my lips. But they
shall be given presently."

"Come then," said the Baronet; "come then —
and let us be alone for a few minutes together.
Annabel my dear girl," he added with a smile, "' I
will not long detain Joseph from you."

The beauteous maidea blushed with modest
bashfulness as her grandsire thus addressed her ;
and when he turned to proceed to the door, I
seized the opportunity to snatch another embrace
of my intended bride. I followed the Baronet to
the library. Ifow once again I entered the place
where two years back he had enunciated his inten-
tions in respect to myself and my hopes of pos-
sessing Annabel. Annabel was to be mine— this
/as most certain ! — but was my unfortunate
amour with Lady Calanthe Dundas known to the
Baronet ? If not, I resolved to deal frankly with
hitu, and make him acquainted with every detail
of that mournful episode of my life.

Sir Matthew sate himself down, and pointed to
a chair immediately opposite to him. I took it : —
was it possible that two years had elapsed since he
and I last sate together in that same room, and in
that same position, face to face ?

" My dear Joseph," he said, "' you remember the
words that I spoke to you in this library, exactly
two years ago ? i gave you to understand that if
during your period of probation you were guilty
of aught which would leave a stain upon your
conscience, you were not to return to me ; but that
if when this day arrived, you felt yourself to be
the same well-principled, pure-minded young man
that you were on taking your departure from
Heseltine Hall, you were assuredly to come back.
You have come — you are here : and therefore I
am to presume that it is in the pride of con-
scious rectitude you have made your appearance
before me?"

" I see, Sir Matthew Heseltine," I answered,
" that whatsoever information you may have ob-
tained in respect to my more recent adventures in
Italy, there is at least one episode of my life with

wbieh you are uoacquLUuted; aud this I will im-
mediately proceed to narrate."

" Gro on, Joseph," said Sir Matthew Heseltine,
not exactly with coldness, but with a sort of re-
served, business-like, matter-of-fact look and tone
which reminded me somewhat of his peculiarities
of former times.

I at once, with the utmost candour and frank-
ness, began to explain everything which related to
the unfortunate Lady Calanthe Dundas,— how I
had first of all met her when a mere boy at Mr.
Tiverton's house in Devonshire — how she had sub-
sequently obtained the post of governess at Mrs.
Eobinson's in the Isle of "Wight, in order that she
might be beneath the same roof with myself — how
the strength of her passion had rendered my own
resolves weak, and how we were guilty — how we
were separated by her father — and how some time
afterwards I fell in with her again in so extraordi-
nary a manner at the Shacklefords' near Bagshot.
Then I proceeded to describe how on fiading that
I had become a father, I was prepared to make any
sacrifice as an atonement for my weakness — how I
yielded to the dictates of honourable feeling even
so far as to resolve upon resigning my hope in
respect to Annabel, that I might do justice to the
ruined Calanthe and give a father's name to my
child. I went on to detail the circumstances
under which Calanthe and I were again separated ;
and when I had finished this portion of my narra-
tive, I said, " And it was then. Sir Matthew, that
I entered your service at Reading."

" Proceed," observed the Baronet, in a colder
voice and with more rigid looks than before.

I felt somewhat uneasy for a few instants : but
speedily inspired by the confidence which arose
from the very fact of the frankness of my dealing
with the Baronet, I proceeded with my history. I
described how after parting from him at Heseltiue
Hall two years back, I had repaired to France,
where I again encountered Calanthe at the old
Chateau on the road to Paris. I described the
circumstances of the unfortunate lady's death,
which followed so speedily upon that of our child;
and I stated how they were buried in the same
grave.

" And now, Sir Matthew Heseltine," I added,
" I have candidly and ingenuously given you every
detail of this episode in my life, — the only one on
which I need retrospect with remorse — the only
one which has left a guilty pang in my heart. Y'es,
Sir Matthew — I can look you in the face — I can
unflinchingly meet your gaze — while I declare
that in no other instance have I swerved from the
path of virtue — not another deed have I done
which I blush to avow ! I do not seek to palliate
my conduct in respect to poor Lady Calanthe, more
than it palliates itself when the circumstances of
my extretue youth are taken into consideration.
But at the same time I may observe that my life
has been as pure and as stainless in every other
respect as could best satisfy the most rigid
moralist."

All the time that I had been speaking. Sir
Matthew Heseltine eyed me with that keen pene-
trating scrutiny which I so well remembered, and
to which I had so often been subject during the
former period that 1 was with him. He appeared
to look me through aud through : his eyes were
I never qnce taken off me : it seemed as if he were

bent on detecting anj wilful omission that I might
possibly make in my narrative. It was not the Sir
Matthew Heseltine who had jast received me with
open arms, that I now beheld before me : it was
the Sir Matthew Heseltiue — inscrutable, stern,
and overawing — whom I had known in former
times. When I had ceased speaking, that piercing
gaze still continued riveted upon me. I grew
foightened — Annabel seemed slipping as it were
out of my arms — the golden bowl of hope ap-
peared ready to be broken ; and sinking upon my
knees, I said, " Sir Matthew, am I not to be for-
given ?"

" Forgiven ? Yes, my dear boy !" he exclaimed,
raising me up and folding me to his breast.
"Forgiven? — to bo sure ! Excellent young man!
would to God that all the world were as pure-
minded as you and what a paradise would it

be ! Every detail of this story was known to me
98

before : and if I have made you repeat it now, it
was only to obtain another proof — the last proof
that is necessary — of your frankness, your candour,
and your truthfulness 1"

"You knew it all?" I exclaimed in astonish-
ment : then, as a sudden and dismaying thought
struck me, I anxiously asked, " And Anna-
bel ?"

"'No, no, Joseph!" quickly rejoined Sir Mat-
thew : " she suspects it not."

"Heaven be thanked!" I ejaculated with fer-
vour. " But Mrs. Lanover ?"

"Yes— she knows it," responded Sir Matthew;
"and though she deplores — as I also do — in one
sense, the tragic end of poor Calanthe, yet is my
daughter a woman of the world, and she judges yoa
not too harshly. Some few years hence, Joseph,
when you have been awhile married to Annabel,
you must tell her the tale or suffer her to learn it

363

JOSEPH WILMOT; OB, THE ME^^OIRS OF A 5IAN-SEUTAKT.

from the lips of her mother, for fear lest the jatel-
liffencc should sutne day burst upon her in a ruder
mode."

"And how learnt you that circumstance ?" I
asked.

" The villnin Lanover, some sis or seven months
Bgo, from his dungeon in Florence, wrote letters to
myself, to my daughter, and my granddaughter."

" I expected as much !" I exclaimed.

" Fortunately," continued Sir Matthew, " the
letter intended for Annabel passed through her
mother's bauds— or I should rather say it was
intercepted by them the moment the handwriting
vcas recognised. Thus was it that Annabel was
saved from the shock which her pure mind would
have otherwise received, and which that vindictive
monster Lanover intended to occasion."

'•'My dear Sir Matthew," I vehemently ex-
claimed, " will you believe my solemn assurance
that though during the period of my probatioo I
wished not that incident to become known to you,
lest it should cause a prejudice to settle, take root,
and grow in your mind, — yet that I all along re-
solved to avow everything with frankness in the
end ?"

" Of the truth of this assurance I also have the
fullest certitude," responded Sir Matthew. " I knew
that you would deal thus frankly with me; and
that was one of the reasons which made me fur-
nish you the opportunity of justifying this belief,
—a belief not merely founded ou my knowledge
of your character, but likewise arising from posi-
tive information conveyed to me,"

" By whom ?" I asked, in bewildering astonish-
ment.

"By your friend the Count of Livorno," re-
joined Sir Matthew. " Ah ! and a nobler friend
you possess not, Joseph, ou the face of the earth !
You should see the terms in which he writes of
you! Not that he says a single syllable more
than you deserve : but in thia world it is a rare
tbiag for one man to give another credit for his
deserts."

" And the Count has written to you ?" I said
inquiringly.

" Yes : I received his letter this morning. It
appears that you have made him acquainted," con-
tinued Sir Matthew, " with all the incidents of
your life. He saw my solicitor in London "

" Yes— I recollect— two or three days ago. He
considerately went to inquire whether you were
all well, and whether you were still at this man-
sion."

"Yes: and doubtless," interjected Sir Matthew,
with one of his peculiar smiles, " the Count of
Livorno learnt from Mr. Tennant that 1 am— or
at least used to be, a very strange sort of charac-
ter ; and so the Count probably thought that my
reception of you might not be as welcome as you
hoped and he wished it to be. He accordingly wrote
me this letter, explaining how you had so nobly
perilled your life for us in the Apennines — how
you had done the same in order to save us from
the treachery designed by Lanover and to be car-
ried out through the medium of the Greek pirates.
In addition to these statements, the Count of Li-
vorno gave me the assurance that he had seen you
under many trying circumstances — he has well
studied your disposition and character — and the re-
sult is, my dear Joseph," added Sir Matthew, pat-

tiUj'; me on the back, " that his lordship the Count
is ready to stake his existence upon your integrity
and honour."

" Generous friend that he has been to me !" I
exclaimed, my heart melting with emotions as I
thus fervidly spoke.

" I was pleased to receive his lordship's letter,"
continued Sir Matthew ; " but it made not the
slightest difference in the course which I was pre-
pared to adopt towards you : my arms were ready

to open to receive you and," added the worthy

Baronet, his lips quivering and his voice shaking
with emotion, "perhaps you yourself, Joseph, have
not more deeply longed for the coming of thia day
than I myself have !"

I expressed my gratitude for Sir Matthew's kind
words; and after a few moments' pause, I said,
"Then it was the Count of Livorao's letter which
made you acquainted with all the details of Lady
Calanthe's history, as he had at dilferent times re-
ceived them from my lips : because there were cer-
tain points on which Lanover Mmself must have
been ignorant."

" Yea — the Count gave me the fuUest details in
his letter," answered Sir Matthew, — " not to be-
tray you unnecessarily, but in order that in case
Lanover should have sent me a falsely coloured
account, I might be put in possession of the exact
truth by the time of your arrival here to-day."

"And beyond the facts to which you have al-
luded," I said inquiriogly, " the Count of Livorno
has given you no explanations in reference to other
circumstances which intimately concern mo?"

" None," answered Sir Matthew, " But the
ti^e is now come, Joseph, when you must begin
your explanations. And first of all, my dear boy,
in reference to this mourning garb which you
wear "

" A few words will explain it !" I interrupted the
Baronet : "but they are connected with an avowal
which must be made in the presence of Annabel
and her mother. It is a piece of intelligence
which I have to impart — something which con-
cerns myself But one word. Sir Matthew P" I

ejaculated. "You give me your consent to claim
Annabel as my bride ?"

" Yes, my dear boy — yes !" responded Sir Mat-
thew. " Have you not already comprehended as
much ? And I will make you rich too — I will give
you a fortune "

"Oh! infinitely more rejoiced," I exclaimed,
" am I that all this should be addressed to me as

the humble and obscure Joseph Wihuot than •

But come. Sir Matthew ! — come !" I cried, now full
of the excitement of wild joy : and seizing the
Baronet by the hand, I began to drag him towards
the door.

" What does all this mean, Joseph P" asked Sir
Matthew. "But no matter ! it is natural enough!
Joy has its fever and its madness as well as grieP.
Come, my dear boy ! — we will speed to the ladies,
as you wish it — and you shall claim Annabel as
you bride."

I know not at what terrific speed I dragged Sir
Matthew up the stairs: but I can positively affirm
that he was not the least annoyed or vexed : on
the contrary he seemed fully disposed to let me do
with him precisely what I thought fit. I burst
open the door of the drawing-room with an abrupt-
ness that startled Annabel and her mother : but

JOSEPH ■WHMOT; OR THE MEMOmS OP A MAJT-SEEVANT.

363

their momentary alarm jielded to other feelings,
when Sir Matthew exclaimed, " Come, Annabel,
mj dearest girl! — come my beloved grandchild —
and give your hand to Joseph in token that he
shall receive it at the altar !"

And the beauteous Annabel — with blushes on
her cheeks, with smiles upon her lips, and with the
tears which varied emotions drew from her eyes to
trace their pearly path down her angelic face —
advanced and gave me her hand. I pressed it to
my lips — and I pressed it to my heart : I endea-
voured to speak— but for upwards of a minute was
my voice choked with the strength of the feelings
which I now experienced.

" Annabel, dearest Annabel !" at length I said,
" you confer upon me a bliss such as no monarch
could bestow! And, Oh! if I have reason to re-
joice in the change which has taken place in my
circumstances, it is that I an enabled to convince
you how disinterested and bow sincere has been
my love ! For I come, not to claim your band be-
cause you are the heiress of the wealthiest B ronet
of Westmoreland ; I have come only because I love
you, Annabel ! — and if you were the poorest and
the humblest, this day would have seen me here all
the same ! Ah, you all three gaze upon me in
astonishment ? — you think that joy has turned my
brain ? — And heaven knows that to possess this
dear hand were almost suflBcient to render me wild
\^ith delight ! But I know what I am saying

— I have a revelation to make .this mourning

garb "

I paused for a few moments, and wiped away
the tears from my eyes. Annabel looked up with
the sweetest and the tenderest interest into my
countenance : Sir Matthew and Mrs. Lanover drew
nearer.

" Yes," I continued ; '•' this mourning garb

I wear it for my own father ! And start not — I
am Joseph Wilmot no longer — my birth is cleared

up and I, dearest Annabel — yes, I — I am the

Earl of Eccleston !"

CHAPTER CLIII.

EXPLAITATIOXS.

I AM now about to redeem that pledge which I
recently made to the reader: the gap which I left
in my narrative is to be here filled up. It is a
complete history of the past which will appro-
priately fit into this place : it is an explanation in
a consecutive form of those incidents and mysteries
which have interwoven themselves so intricately
with all the preceding portion of my narra-
tive.

It was at the beginning of the year 1820 that
the Hon. Augustus Mulgrave first became ac-
quainted with Clara, one of the daughters of Mr.
Delmar, a rich widower residing at Delmar
Manor. Mr. Mulgrave was at that time just
entering his twenty-second year : he was a
younger son, and f "' vly dependant upon his father
Lord Eccleston, as Lo was subsequently dependant
for a considerable time on his elder brother when
the latter succeeded to the title. Augustus Mul-
grave had been a very wild young man, and the
source of much distress and vexation to his

family. He had been expelled from College, and
had thus cut himself out from following any one
of those honourable professions to which a young
scion of the avistocraey might have devoted hita-
self with so many admirable chances of success.
He was remarkably handsome, and possessed au
elegant figure : his manners were fascinating — his
conversation was agreeable. Clara Delmar — then
entering her seventeenth year, without a mother's
guidance, and totally inexperienced in the ways of
the world — became deeply enamoured of Augustus
Mulgrave. She heard that he had been wild,
reckless, improvident, and extravagant: but it
was so easy for a lover to persuade a fond confid-
ing girl that the mutual affection which thus sub-
sisted would be a sufficient motive to induce him
to follow a right path for the future. But Mr.
Delmar discouraged the attentions of Augustus
Mulgrave towards his daughter from the very
moment that he first perceived them. Vainly did
the young gentleman throw himself at Mr. Del-
mar's feet : vainly did Clara beseech her sire to
have faith and confidence in the object of her
love. The father, though in all other respects a
kind and an indulgent one, was on this point in-
exorable; for the character of Augustus Mulgrave
had been represented to him as that of one who
was inveterately and radically bad. He therefore
commanded his daughter to think no more of
Augustus, whom he peremptorily forbade tho
house.

But however just were the reasons on which
Mr. Delmar's decree was founded, — it assumed,
through the representations of Augustus, tho
aspect of an injustice and of a tyranny in the eyes
j of Clara. The lovers met clandestinely, — their
I secret meetings being aided by a lady's-maid iu
I Mr. Delmar's household. A private marriage was
I agreed upon; and it was solemnized at Enfield,—
Mr. Dorchester being the officiating clergyman.
A bribe secured the co-operation and the secrcsy
of this unprincipled man : but his conduct was all
the more reprehensible, inasmuch as he had re-
ceived many marks of friendship from Mr. Del-
mar. In the course of time Clara discovered that
she was in a way to become a mother ; and after
a consultation with her husband, it was determined
that they should throw themselves at Mr. Del-
mar's feet and confess everything. But as a
necessary preliminary to this proceeding, they first
of all sought to obtain a certificate of their marriage,
which they had either neglected to do at the time,
or else the copy which they had received was lost :
but which of the two circumstances it was I can-
not assert with accuracy. The faithful lady's-maid
was despatched to Enfield, which is at no great
distance from Delmar Manor, to procure the certi-
ficate : but on arriving there she learnt that Mr.
Dorchester had recently fled in order to escape
from arrest by sherifis'-officers who were in pursuit
of him. The clerk who had witnessed the marriage
ceremony, had since died: but the lady's-maid,
little suspecting what was so shortly to transpire,
addressed herself to the new clerk, and asked for
the certificate. The register was referred to : but
the leaf on which the entry had been made was
gone ! Its extraction from the book was visible :
and there could be no doubt that Dorchester, for
some reason or another, was the author of tho
deed.

364

;f03BFH WILMOT ; OE, THE MEMOIKS OF A MAN-SEEVANT.

"What waa now to bo done ? Not for an iustaat
would Mr. Del mar believe the tale of the mar-
riage : the only person who could stand forward as
a witness was the ladj's-maid, — and he would na-
turally argue that if she could have been an ac-
complice in deceiving him in respect to that clan-
destine marriage, it was still more likely that she
would now corroborate a manufactured tale to ac-
count for his daughter's disgrace. The project of
confessing everything to Mr. Delmar was therefore
abandoned. • Shortly afterwards Clara received an
invitation to stay with an old maiden lady at some
little distance in the country ; and this invitation
was accepted, as it appeared to promise the means of
enshrouding Clara's calamitous position in secresy.
The lady's-maid accompanied her on this visit ;
and without entering into unnecessary details,
Ciara became a mother under circumstances which
shielded her from all suspicion. The lady's-maid
then quitted the service of her young mistress —
but only to serve her in another and equally neces-
sary way : namely, to take care of the child which
had thus come into the world. And that child
! was myself!

1 Living in the strictest seclusion, and at a con-
j siderable distance from the neighbourhoods where
" she was known, the lady's-maid took care of me
! for a period of about two years. But getting
I wearied of that monotonous kind of life, she at
length intimated her desire that other arranjje-
ments should be made on my behalf: and Mr.
Mulgrave furnished her with the means of con-
signing me to the care of Mr. and Mrs. Nelson at
the seminary near Leicester. She, therefore, was
the veiled female of whom I had overheard Mrs.
Nelson speak to Mr. Jukes on the memorable day
when I listened to the conversation which was
taking place between the widowed schoolmistress
and the heartless individual just named. An ar-
rangement was made for the half-yearly remit-
tances to be made through the medium of a Lon-
don banker ; and as the reader has seen, these
payments were duly effected until the last year of
my residence at the Nelsons'.

But I must not hasten on too rapidly in the de-
tails of this narrative which I am now putting
upon record. I must here observe that a short
while after the lady's-maid had consigned me,
under the name of Joseph Wilmot, to the care of
the Nelsons near Leicester, she met with some
accident which led to a malady that speedily ter-
minated in her death. Thus the only witness
whose testimony could be rendered available, in
case of need, to prove the marriage of my parents,
was taken from the world unless indeed Dor-
chester himself should at any time have come
forward again.

There can be no doubt that Augustus Mulgrare
was much attached to Clara ; and his affection,
though it had not been strong enough to make
him resolve that they should both dare everything
so that they might acknowledge their offspring, was
nevertheless sufficiently potent to render him faith-
ful to her. And perhaps too the belief that ClarS
would inherit a considerable share, if not the bulk
of her father's wealth, might have been a great
temptation for an extravagant and dependant in-
dividual such as Augustus Mulgrave. He cer-
tainly became more steady after his secret mar-
riage with Clara; aud thus four or five years

, — Mr. Delmar remaining utterly unsus-
picious of what had taken place — unsuspicious
likewise that Clara and Augustus kept up clandes-
tine meetings. At length Mr. Delmar again met
Augustus in society; thoy encountered at the
house of mutual friends ; and Mr. Delmar was
moved by the language which Augustus addressed
to him. He made inquiries; and he learnt that
the conduct of his daughter's lover had been for
some time past characterized by steadiness and
propriety, Mr. Delmar likewise ascertained that

his daughter's attachment still continued as

how indeed could it be otherwise ? for was not the
object thereof her husband, although Mr. Delmar
suspected it not! The father of Augustus was
now dead : his elder brother bore the title : and
he was making Augustus the handsome allowance
of fifteen hundred a year. Lord Eccleston in-
terceded on behalf of Augustus ; and the result
was that the Hoo. Mr. Mulgrave was again per-
mitted to visit at Delmar Manor. Although in
reality a husband, yet was it only in the light of a
suitor that he visited Clara at the Manor ; —and in
the year 1826 Mr. Delmar gave his consent to their
union. Thus was it that precisely six years after
the private and unknown marriage, the public
one was solemnized with all the ceremony befitting
the rank and wealth of the families which were
thereby brought into connexion.

My mother, the Hon. Mrs. Mulgrave, would
now have gladly proclaimed her first marriage
and acknowledged me to be her offspring : but her
husband represented that there were the gravest
objections to such a course, — indeed all the objec-
tions which had previously existed, and which were
in no sense mitigated, but rather strengthened, by
the fact of the second marriage. For inasmuch
as the Ji''st could not be proven, the assertion of
such marriage would naturally seem to be flatly
contradicted by the ceremony of the seco7ul. My
legitimacy could not be established : and my
mother's reputation would therefore be destroyed
if I were acknowledged. The Hon. Mr. Mulgrave
was proud and sensitive on such a point. His
brother had a large family of daughters — but no
son ; and thus my father was heir presumptive to
the title of Eccleston. He could not endure the
idea that the wife, on whose brow a coronet might
possibly descend, should be shunned by society as
a woman who had committed a false step some
years previous to her marriage. Thus, for all
these heartless reasons of expediency, was I sacri-
ficed— was I ignored — consigned to obscurity —
abandoned to the care of strangers ! Truth com-
pels me to state that my mother was a worldly
minded woman : she was fond of society — she was
fond of pleasure: it gratified her vanity to shine
as a star in the brilliant salooas of fashion ; — and
therefore, when Mr. Mulgrave represented to her
that she would have to resign all these enjoyments
if she yielded to her maternal yearnings, she suf-
fered herself to be overpersuaded— she surrendered
the point — she fell into her husband's views!

After their marriage — I mean his second and
public one— my father and mother took a house in
Grosvenor Square, where they soon launched out
into extravagancies. Mr. Mulgrave's necessities
drove him in course of time amongst bill dis-
counters and money-lenders; and what with the
lavish profusion of his mode of life and the exor-

J03KPH WILMOT; OB, THE MEMOIRS OV A MAN-SERVANT.

363

bicant interest he had to pay for loans, he found
it more and more difficult to keep up the pay-
meats for my board and education at the Nelsons'
academy. At length he suft'ered one half-year to
lapse — then another ; and this beingf done, he
began to harden his uiind to the idea that it was
better he should discontinue the allowance alto-
gether. He reasoned with himself that he had
done enough for me — that I waa now old enough to
shift for myself— and that it would be even safer
in respect to the secret itself to let me go forth
into life at once and become speedily lost as it were
or absorbed and engulphed in the great vortex of
the busy world. He did not see the advertise-
, ments which Mrs. Nelson inserted on my account :
nor, on the other hand, did his wife, my mother,
know that he had discontinued the payments.

The reader will recollect that when I was fifteen
jears of age, Mr. Nelson died ; and his widow re-
solved to give up the academical establishment.
For the past twelvemonth no remittances had been
received on my behalf ; and Mrs. Nelson endea-
voured to dispose of me by getting Mr. Jukes, the
Leicester grocer, to take me as an errand boy into
his service. He however declined — and recom-
mended the workhouse. Mrs. Nelson — though
compassionating me somewhat — was nevertheless
of too selfish a disposition to maintain me through
charity ; and as the advertisements which she had
inserted in the papers on my account had failed to
bring any response, she looked upon me as being
utterly abandoned by whomsoever might have been
previously interested in my welfare. She had
therefore resolved to consign me to the doom of a
workhouse ; and I need not remind the reader
how by a precipitate flight from Mr. Jukes I
avoided that hideous destiny.

And now, when the reader retrospects over all
that happened to me after my flight from Leices-
ter,— will he not be struck by the conviction that
the finger of providence began to make itself visi-
ble in the occurrences which were from that point
to flow gradually and slowly onward until they
eventually wafted me into the haven where all the
mysteries were to be cleared up ? For I had not
been long in London before accident led me to the
dwelling of Mr. Delmar, my own grandsire ! But
how little did he — the excellent gentleman ! — sus-
pect that when he took compassion on the poor,
trembling, half-starved boy at his gate, he was be-
stowing his bounty on one in whose veins flowed
the blood of his own family ! He received me into
his house: he clothed me-^he fed me; and his
daughter Edith — the amiable and beautiful Edith
—treated me with kindest sympathy. It was her
own nephew whom she thus pitied — and who then
as a mere boy learnt to love her — not as Annabel
was subsequently loved— but as a nephew might
veritably love an affectionate aunt I

It will be recollected that 1 had not been long
at Delrnar Manor when Mr. and ^rs. Mulgrave
called. Mr. Mulgrave gave me some little errand
to perform for him ; and, struck by my appear-
ance — though at the moment utterly without a
suspicion of who I might really be— ho put the
question to a footman. Then was his ear smitten
with the name of Joseph Wilmot. .Toseph "Wil-
mot ! his own son beneath that roof ! It was a
marvel that Mr. Mulgrave could keep his counte-
nance at all in the presence of his informant. And

no wonder that, as I observed at the time, he
studied me with attention when I returned from
executing his errand ! He hastened off t ) warn

his wife of what was in store for her. She

alas ! truth compels me to be explicit had now

for so many years learnt to regard the utter
ignoring of myself as a condition absolutely neces-
sary to the maintenance of her own standing in
society, that she exhibited far more fortitude, self-
possession, and presence of mind than her husband
Ciiulil have possibly hoped or anticipated. From
her father both she and her -husband heard the
incidents which had brought me beneath that roof :
they heard likewise a repetition of all that I had
told Mr. Delmar of my antecedents- those ante-
cedents which were not altogether unknown to
them beforehand ! Ah, when I entered the
drawing-room on that day— habited as a menial,
and to do menial offices — my mother felt a tight-

ness of the heart: she has since assured me

that it was so! Yes— and she experienced in-
effable feelings, despite her fortitude, her se.lf-
possession, her worldly-mindedness. And, Oh !
did I not observe at the time that she looked upon
me in a peculiar manner?— and methought it was
mere sympathizing compassion on my behalf!

Then came the scene with Mr. Mulgrave in the
garden, — when he sought to persuade me to leave
his father-in-law's service and enter as a page into
his own. He was frightened at the idea of my
being beneath that roof : he fancied that the
slightest accident might betray everything. Alas!
his guilty conscience suggested that this betrayal
might be more easily brought about than there
was in reality any chance of its being so developed.
His object was to get me into his own service, if
possible; anl then, under pretence of taking an
interest in my welfare, he would have sent me off
to some remote part of the world to fill a humble
Government situation, which through the interest
of his brother Lord Eecleston he might easily have
procured. But while believing that his motive
was all generously compassionate and kind, I re-
fused to leave Mr. Delmar's service. This refusal
on my part filled Mr. Mulgrave with terror ; and
from that moment ho vfras resolved to use measures
of coercion, or else of perfidy, to accomplish his
aim and effect my removal from a mansion where
my presence was so ominous in his eyes. The
reader will recollect that while apparently referring'
quite in a careless off-hand way to some details of
the narrative which he had learnt from his father-
in-law,— Mr. Mulgrave asked me where dwelt the
man Taddy who had so recently been my patron
and companion. I mention the name of the court
from which Taddy and I had so recently been ex-
pelled—that vile court in a vile neighbourhood;
and little, little did I think at the time that it was
any other than a sentiment of the most fleeting
curiosity which had prompted Mr. Mulgrave's in-
quiries.

The next important incident to which it is re-
quisite that I should refer, was the scene in the
library, — that scene of which I became an unwil-
ling ear-witness from the circumstance of being
engaged in the little museum adjoining. Then 1
heard Mr. Mulgrave speak of his difficulties, and
Mr. Delmar mildly remonstrate with him on his
extravagancies: — then likewise I heard Mr. Del-
mar explain how he had left all his property ia

S6G

JOSEPH WILMOT; OR, THE MEMOIRS OP A MATT-SERVANT.

equal portions to his daughters Clara and Edith ;
aud in the course of his speech he dech^red that he
had made his will,— adding " Tliat desk contains
it!" On the same occasion Mr. ilulgrave re-
quested Mr. Delmar to let him have me as his
page : but my kind and generous benefactor would
Hot consent to part from me ; and he expressed
his belief at the time that the mystery enveloping
my birth must some day be cleared up. It is im-
portant that the reader should bear all these things
in his mind : for, as it may be easily supposed, they
made a considerable impression upon Mr. Mul-
grave, my wretched father — and influenced him
most deplorably in his subsequent proceedings.

Acting upon the information I had given hitn
— or rather which he had succeeded in extracting
from xni — Mr. Mulgrave went to that vile neigh-
bourhood of Saffron Hill to make inquiries after
the man Taddy. He wanted some unscrupulous
and unprincipled agent under existing circum-
stances ; and from all he had learnt, he had every
reason to believe that Taddy might serve his pur-
poses or else recommend him to some one who
would. I should remark that Mr. Mulgrave had
already written to Jukes at Leicester, — desiring
him to come up to London on secret but impor-
tant business, and sending him a bank-note for a
handsome amount to defray his expenses. It
would seem that Mr. Taddy, having by some
means or another got possession of a little money
since he parted from me, returned to his old
haunts on Saffron Hill ; and he was thus easily
ferreted out by Mr. Mulgrave. On hearing cer-
tain hints cautiously and darkly dropped, Taddy
declared that he was acquainted with the very
man who in all respects would answer Mr. Mul-
grave's purpose; — and he named Mr. Lanover.
Lanover was soon communicated with : an inter-
view took place between Mr. Mulgrave and the
humpback; and it was agreed that the latter
should play the part of my uncle at Delmar
Manor. Jukes was to accompany him ; and in his
capacity of Poor Law Guardian for Leicester,
he was to back the demand that I should be given
up. The reader will recollect the scene which
ensued at Delmar Manor— how my kind bene-
factor defied Lanover to take me away without
producing documentary evidence of his relation-
ship—and how Edith herself befriended me on the
occasion. Nevertheless, Lanover's tale was plau-
sible enough : he alluded to the advertisements
which Mrs. 2felson had inserted in the papers;
and as it was not for a moment suspected that he
had received his information from Mr. Mulgrave
(who had previously heard the repetition of the
whole tale as I had given it to his father-in-law),
it was uo wonder that Mr. Delmar should have
been impressed with the opinion that Lanover was
indeed my uncle, although he so generously pro-
tected me against the authority which he conceived
to be truthfully asserted.

And now I come to an awful episode in this
chapter of explanations. "Would to heaven that I
could suppress it ! But, alas ! I cannot. I have
taken it upon myself to give my history to the
world ; and it must be truthfully given. But,
Oh ! how cold runs the blood in my veins, aud
what dread feelings oppress me, as I approach the
awful, the appalling subject. Tiie failure of the
visit of Lanover and Jukes to Delmar Manor drove

Mr. Mulgrave to desperation. His guilty con-
science made liim tremble lest his father-in- lav."
knew more of uie than he had hitherto chosen (o
admit, and that thence arose liis resolve to keep
me with him and to protect me against every ore
who might seek to take me away. And then Mr.
Mulgrave reflected that if Mr. Delmar should
actually discover all the past, he \fras capable of dis-
inheriting his daughter Clara altogether — or at all
events he would take such steps as should prevent
his unprincipled son-in-law from exercising any
control over the wealth that he would leave behind
him. And again, that will which Mr. Delmar
had made, and which equally apportioned his pro-
perty between his two daughters ! What if that
will could be annihilated ? — and what if another
could be substituted — a forged one, bequeathing
everything to Clara ? Ah ! in this case he— Mr.
Mulgrave — my wretched father — would be rich ! —
he would have five thousand a year, besides the
noble estate ! — he would be enabled to relieve
himself of all his embarrassments ! — he would have
ample funds for the purpose of his extravagancies
and his pleasures ! Tbere were many aims to be
achieved : but one blow would accomplish them all.

And that blow Oh! how can I guide the pea

which is to write the words that will brand my
father — my own father — the author of my being—
as

But, no — I cannot do it ! I cannot pen that
one word! It is the most awful in the English
language : it is one which to breathe it even in
reference to a stranger makes one shudder from
head to foot : but only to thinlc of it in connexion
with one so nearly, so closely allied ! — Ah ! this
is more than mortal nature can endure ! Let me
therefore hasten as quickly as I may over this
hideous portion of my narrative. Mulgrave spoko
to Lanover : he soon found that he had not to
beat about the bush — nor to drop vague hints —
nor to imply half he .meant by means of signifi-
cant looks ; for Lanover at once boldly and hardily
met him half-way. Everything was arranged :
that stupendous crime was resolved upon: its
details were settled. But this I must hasten to
observe, — that Mrs. Mulgrave, my mother, re-
mained in utter ignorance of the turpitude that
was in contemplation, — though, alas ! she had
been no stranger to the scheme which had been
devised for removing me from Delmar Manor,
but which scheme had so signally failed !

The reader will recollect how at night, on re-
turning from a long walk with the porter's son, I
was somewhat alarmed by beholding the forms of
two men moving, suspiciously as I thought, from
the servants' entrance of the premises belonging to
Delmar Manor. Those two men were Lanover and
Taddy. They were doubtless making their obser-
vations at the time, and arranging the where and
the how they should eSeci an entry at a later hour.
And when that later hour came, the miscreants
forced open a shutter of one of the lower back
windows, and entered the house. Murder's work
was soon done ; the admirable, the high-minded,
the generous-hearted Delmar was assassinated in his
slumber ! Then not merely to give such a colour
to the deed that it might seem as if perpetrated
by mere burglars without any higher instigation
or ulterior purpose,— but also that the miscreants
might remunerate themselves in addition to the

JOSEPH WII/MOT5 OE, THE MEMOIES OF A MAN-SERVANT.

367

price of the crime paid by the wretclied Mul-
grave, the work of plunder was comtneuced. The
bureau in the victim's chamber was broken open,
and its contents abstracted: the drawing-room
was entered, and several valuable nicknacks carried
olf : the sideboard in the drawing-room was forced ;
and whatsoever plate was found in the butler's
pantrv, was likewise self-appropriated by the mur-
derers. And all this while the instigator of the
crime— my wretched father, for the welfare of
whose soul I sincerely, devoutly pray — was enter-
taining a brilliant assemblage at his house in
Grosvenor Square, so that it was utterly impos-
sible to suspect next day that be bad the slightest
complicity in the tremendous tragedy of that foul
uight.

Nor next day, when the horrible intelligence
was conveyed to that mansion which the Mul-
gravcs at the time tenanted in Grosvenor Square,
did my mother entertain the thought that her
husband had instigated this crime. If subse-
quently, when at Delmar Manor, she recovered
her fortitude more speedily than her sister Edith,
it was that being more worldly-minded, her feel-
ings were far less sensitive ; and moreover, even
in the depth of her real affliction, the idea would
force itself that by her father's death she was re-
lieved from an incessant source of apprehension
with regard to her past conduct. But her hus-
band— my father — was not many hours at Delmar
Manor before he found an opportunity of taking
bis victim's legitimate will from the desk in which
it was deposited, and there substituting a forged
one which had been carefully drawn up by himself
and Lanovcr.

When t!ie funeral was over, Mr. Lanover once
more made his appearance to fetch me away. Oh !
with what deep, deep dissimulation was the part
en;icted between my father and the humpback. Mr.
Mulgrave pretended to be curt and haughty towards
Lanover : while on the other hand the humpback
afTectcd to be insolent and defiant towards Mul-
grave. Then the latter in his turn affected to be
compassionate towards myself; and, as the reader
will recollect, he thrust money into my hand. It
was thus that I left Delmar Manor ; and my
fiitlier now felt that he could breathe more freely
— for he bad dreaded lest the empire of maternal
affection on my mother's part should be asserted,
and that in some moment of weakness she would
bi'lray that I was her son.

The next incident to which it is requisite I
should refi-r, was one that took place at Mr. Lano-
vcr's house in Great Eussell Street, Bloomsbury
Square. He listened to a certain conversation
wijich was one day taking place between Annabel
and myself. Wo were speaking of the Delmars ;
and I mentioned to Annabel that the amiable
Edith would be well off, inasmuch as her murdered
father's will had been made equally in favour of
both his daughters. Then with what rage did
Lanover burst into the room !— but there was
•doubtless terror mingled with his fury, though I
suspected it not at the time. He insisted upon
knowing how I had learnt the fact I had just men-
tioned in respect to the will ; and I confessed the
truth— namely, that when in the museum adjoin-
ing the library of Delmar Manor, I had been un-
intentionally rendered a listener to what took place
between Mr. Mulgrave and the late Mr. Delmar.

This scene with Lanover was speedily followed by
one of brutal violence on his part towards Annabel ;
and I struck the wretch down. I was then con-
fined to my room. All those circumstances the
reader will recollect. Then, it seems, away wont
Lanover to communicate to Mr. Mulgrave every-
thing that had occurred. Great was the consler-
nation of my wretched sire. The revelation of all
that I had heard between bis father-in-law and him-
self in the library a short time back, might create
suspicions — might lead to investigations — might
prove that the will produced after the funeral was
a forgery ! And if this will were a forgery,
would not the immediate inference be that the
forger of the will was the instigator of the murder
which gave that will such speedy effect? The
forged will had conveyed the entire property to
Mr. and Mrs. Mulgrave, to the exclusion of Edith j
and this was a circumstance which could not fail
to excite all those suspicions that were to be ap-
prehended if only one word from my lips gained
publicity : namely, that word which would declaro
that there had been a previous will enjoining a
very different distribution of the property. In.
short, my wretched father and the vile humpback
beheld destruction staring them in the face — the
gibbet looming before them ; and as one crime
generally begets another in order that the first
may be concealed, so was it now resolved that for
the purpose of averting suspicion in reference to
Mr. Delmar's death, my death must be next ac-
complished. Hence that murderous project on
the part of Lanover and Taddy which my beloved
Annabel discovered, and from which the magnani-
mous girl enabled me to escape. And here I must
observe that my mother Mrs. Mulgrave remained
in ignorance of what was in progress; and it was
not until a long time afterwards that she was led
by circumstances to suspect that by the complicity
of Lanover her husband's persecutions against me
bad gone to the extent of even aiming at my re-
moval from this earthly sphere.

And now I will mention a little incident which
fits in this place on the score of chronological order.
The reader will recollect my meeting with Annabel
at Exeter, at the door of a haberdasher's named
Dobbins. It will also be borne in mind that it
afterwards came to my knowledge (when I was at
Dr. Pomfret's at Salisbury) how Annabel had been
introduced to this Mr. Dobbins, and how Lanover
had appeared at the time to have some motive
which Annabel could not possibly understand.
Dobbins was a rich man; and Lanover endeavoured
to tempt him with a view of the beautiful girl
whom he passed off as his daughter, in the expec-
tation that the amorous old haberdasher would pro-
pose to take her as his wife. But Dobbins was
too wary to be beguiled into an alliance for which
— however tempting on the score of the young
lady's inimitable beauty — he nevertheless saw full
well he should have to pay dearly enough to the
vile humpback. He therefore gave Lanover to
understand that he was not a marrying man, but
was content to remain a widower; and thus Anna-
bel was saved the painful shock of a proposal
which she would have rejected with abhorrence,
even if she had not resented it with scorn and in-
dignation.

After a while, and vi'hen next I found myself in
London, it will be remembered that I met ths Eev.

368

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OB, THK ME5I0IEB OP A MAJf-SERVAJJT.

Mr. Howard and Edith close by the General Post
Office. I mentioned to them what I had heard
about the will at^the time I listened to the conver-
sation between the late Mr. Delmar and his son-
in-law, Mr. Mulgrave. Mr. Howard observed
"that it was remarkable, even if it were not actu-
ally important ;" and his beloved wife Edith was
profoundly afifected by the various memories which
the conversation conjured up. But after leaving
me, they took no further notice of the intelligence
they bad thus received : or at least they di J not
make any communication to Mr. Mulgrave on tbe
point : they themselves were too pure and good to
harbour the suspicion that a lawful will had been
destroyed and a forged one substituted by one
who, however unkind his conduct towards them
had been, was nevertheless so closely connected
with them by marriage. On that very same day,
and indeed within the same hour that I thus met
the young clergyman and his wife, I again encoun-
tered Lanover. My presence in London renewed
all the horrible alarms which some time back had
instigated the crime he purposed to commit on the
occasion that I escaped from his house. He saw
no safety for himself nor for my father, Mr. Mul-
grave, except in my destruction. He lured me to
a dungeon : he conveyed me on board an emigrant
ship. The reader knows how I escaped from the
calamity which engulphed that vessel — and how
after a long series of adventures ia Scotland, at
Manchester, at Cheltenham, at the Shacklefords'
near Bagshot, and subsequently with Sir Matthew
Heseltine, I again found myself in London. Then
it was that I called at Delmar Manor, and for the
first time learnt that the estate had been in pos-
session of Mr. Mulgrave ever since the late Mr.
Delmar's death, so that there had been no division
of property with Edith. I. likewise learnt that
Mr. and Mrs. Mulgrave had very recently become
Lord and Lady Eccleston, and that their town-
house was now in Manchester Square. I called
there to give them the leaf of the register — that
leaf which had at one time so much regarded them,
and the abstraction of which had caused 7ne to
endure so much misery, and them to commit so
many misdeeds !

But, ah ! on the occasion of that visit, how
utterly incapable was I of comprehending the
strangeness of the ejaculations which burst from
their lips, or the peculiarity of the looks
which they bent upon me. IS"or could I conceive
why Lady Eccleston, clasping her hands with so
much emotion, murmured something — nor why her
husband so sternly warned her, or else recalled her
to herself, by the significant utterance of her name,
" Clara !" Oh ! it was that they perceived bow
much could have been spared them — how much
misery and misdeed — aye, and misery for myself
likewise— if they had acted otherwise from the
very first : for providence itself had intended that
the abstracted leaf should sooner or later transpire !
Ah, and it was with a deep maternal yearning too
that my mother — she whom I suspected not at the
time to be my mother !— asked me if I were pros-
perous ? — and when I retired from that interview,
my memory retained for a long, long period the
strangeness of the look— its dim yearning melan-
choly— which she shed upon me !

How soon after that interview were we to meet
again, — when, on my return to London after my

last interview with Sir Matthew Heseltine at the
Hall, I plunged into the midst of the burning
building in Manchester Square, and rescued Lady
Eccleston at the peril of my life. Ah I well mi"-ht
she have said when coming back to consciousness,
" Good God ! you my deliverer !" And well too
might Lord Eccleston himself have been moved

towards me yes, even he with— alas, that I

should be compelled to say it !— all his implacable
hardness of heart towards me !

The next occurrence to which I must direct the
reader's attention was the discovery of that little
scrap of a letter at the chateau in France, and
which ran aa follows : —

" very fortunate that joa let me know whitber yon
were going previoas to your leaving Londoo. I there-
fore lose not a monient ia writiog to eojoin that noitiiDg
more is to be done in respect to Josopn. Should iicoi-
deot throw him in year way, I charge yoa to leave him
onmoleated. When next I see yoa I will give such ei>
planations as will satisfy you that this resolntion"

A few words will explain how the letter containing
this paragraph came to be written. Lady Eccle-
ston was so deeply, deeply touched by the con-
sciousness of owing her life to me, that she had
felt as if the finger of providence was in it ; and
she besought her husband to acknowledge me — to
publish to the world the circumstances of their
first marriage — and to appeal to tbe restored leaf
of the register as a proof. But his lordship was
inexorable. It was not now so much for fear that
his wife's honour might be branded, as that he
trembled to bring me in contact with the other
members of the family — Mr. Howard and Edith —
for fear lest by mentioning the library scene, sus-
picion should be aroused, inquiry instituted, a clue
obtained, the track followed up, and everything
brought to light ! But while refusing to acknow-
ledge me as his son. Lord Eccleston promised her
ladyship to write to Lanover at once and bid him
thenceforth spare me from persecution. This he
did ; and the scrap which I discovered at the
chateau, was a portion of his lordship's letter to
the humpback. '

But as the reader will bear in mind, it was not
until a considerable time afterwards that an acci-
dent revealed to me (when I was in Captain Eay-
mond's service) that Lord Eccleston was the writer
of that letter to which that fragment had belonged.
This occurred in Florence ; and there did I have an
interview with Lord and Lady Eccleston. The for-
mer was much moved : the latter, again referring
to the circumstance of her deliverance by my hands
from the conflagration, wept bitterly as I supported
her in my arms. But again, by one word signifi-
cantly thrown at her as a warning, did her husband
recall her to herself; and as I was about to retire
he gave me the most solemn assurance that he
would never thenceforth harm a hair of my head.
This promise it was at the time his firm intention
to keep : but subsequent circumstances compelled
him, as I shall presently explai-i, to violate his
pledge. I use the word compelled, because when
once a man has entered upon the path of misdeed,
his very crimes constitute a destiny : they form as
it were the necessities of his position, and he is
irresistibly hurried on in the same evil course not-
withstanding the veritable inclination and the real
unfeigned craving that he may have to retract
and amend. Oh I from this sad, sad tale con-

nccted with my own father, let every reader tate
warning and avoid tho first downwaad step from
the straight pathway of rectitude. He may fancy
it is but one step he is about to take — he may
reason within himself that he will descend no
lower— and, on the contrary, that he will do his
best to regain the higher ground from which he
has departed : but, Oh ! when too late he will dis-
cover the miserable sophistry with whicL he has
cheated himself — he will see that when once the
line of demarcation is passed, incalculably difficult
is it to step back again within the boundary of
virtue's sphere !

Notwithstanding all that was strange and pecu-
liar in this interview of mine with Lord and Lady
Eecleston at Florence, I began not at that time to
entertain the slightest suspicion that they were my
fnfhrr and mother. Indeed I was too much be-
wildered to form any conjecture at all — unless it
■were that they had a positive knowledge of the '
99

mysteries attending my birth, but also had some
reasons (to me unaccountable) for keeping the
secret to themselves. That interview was speedily
followed by my meeting with Lady Eecleston, at
her own request, at the bridge of Santa Trinitata.
The circumstances of this meeting — the secrcsy
with which it was conducted on her part— the
tenour of her language— the interest she evidently
took in me — and the pecuniary proposition she
made, excited for the first time in my soul a cer-
tain suspicion, — but so dim, so vague, and uncer-
tain, that I scarcely comprehended it. And yet it
was a suspicion, mistily and hazily foreshadowing
all that was to eventually transpire ! Subsequently,
when I related everything to the Count of Livorno,
we suggested vague and uncertain conjectures to-
gether : but we found it impossible to define any
specific conclusions which we might regard as cer-
tain, or even probable.

The next occasion when I met my father and

370

JOSEPH WTLMOT; OH, THE MEMOIRS OP A MAN-SfiEVANT.

mother, was at Civita Vecchia ; and there my sus-
picions assumed a more definite shape : they were
strengthened though still far from being confirmed, j
It was on this occasion that I heard for the first
time that Mr. and Mrs. Howard had been put in
possession of the Delmar estate, — a proceeding
which his lordship had adopted on acquiring riches
by his accession to the title and wealth of his de-
ceased brother ; for he naturally calculated that if
anything unpleasant should ever transpire on ac-
count of my knowledge of the library scene, as I
may term it, he might hope to stifle all inquiries
from the very circumstance that Mr. Howard and
Edith were at length put in possession of their i
rights. If the reader will turn to that page of
my narrative in which I record how the Earl of ,
Eccleston made me acquainted with the altered i
position of Mr. and Mrs. Howard, when he made |
over to them that estate which his own necessities I
no longer compelled him to cling to, — it will be <
seen that I was struck at the time by a certain
strange signifieancy in the accents and looks of his
lordship while he was speaking. 1 knew not hovr :
to account for it tJien : but it is now no longer j
difficult to comprehend that while giving me that |
information, he must have had vividly uppermost
in his mind that very library scene to which I have ,
so often referred. But it was not merely my in- j
terview with the Earl on that occasion at Civita
Yecchia which strengthened the suspicion previ-
ously BO vaguely and dimly formed: it was also |
that dream-like scene at night, when the female i
figure entered my chamber at the hotel and covered ]
me with kisses and with tears. Oh ! need I say ]
that it was my mother ?— need I explain that in
one of those irresistible and ineffable moments |
when the yearning of nature's instinct rises supe-
rior to all worldly selfishness, my mother longed to
embrace me — longed to pour forth her feelings by
my side when I slept ? Yes— it was so : and if
the circumstance itself did not at the time con-
vince me, beyond the possibility of further doubt,
that the mystery of my parentage was closely con-
nected with everything I had known in respect to
the Earl and Countess of Eccleston, it was because
when awaking in the morning, and when subse-
quently pondering the incident, I could not satis-
factorily convince myself it was aught but a
dream.

I now pass on to those circumstances which oc-
curred at Florence immediately subsequent to
the trial of Lanover and Dorchester. It was these
circumstances which induced, or rather compelled
mv wretched father to renew his inhuman beha-
viour towards me. My unguarded conduct — or
rather my foolish confidence, in exhibiting to him
that note wherein Dorchester requested me to visit
him in prison, filled my father with frightful ap-
prehensions. His guilty conscience made bim pic-
ture to himself that I was getting upon a new
track — following up the course of another clue,
which unless abruptly broken, might lead me on
to the elucidation of all past mysteries. He there-
lore silenced Dorchester, as he hoped, by procuring
the mitigation of his sentence, and by holding out
pvomises for the future. He aided in Lanover's
liberation that he might keep him also chained to
his own interests; and then he flattered himself
that he had once more elTectually baffled me.
The reader must have borne in mind that second

interview which I had with Dorchester in his
dungeon, and when the Count of Livorno accom-
panied me thither, the day after I had witnessed
the awful, the tremendous scene of Lanover's in-
terment and resuscitation in the cemetery. Dor-
chester then explained to me the reasons which
had induced him many long years back to abstract
that leaf from the marriage register. The cause
of the abstraction had nothing to do with the
entry of the marriage of my father and mother.
But on that same leaf another marriage was re-
corded ; and, without going into particulars, it
suited the object of some wealthy and unprincipled
person that the record should disappear altogether.
Dorchester at the time was overwhelmed with
debts : he accepted a bribe— he tore the leaf from
the register— and he fled. Little did he suspect
— little did he foresee the amount of crime and
misery which the deed was to engender in quarters
totally distinct from the one where its influence
was alone intended to be felt. But he had kept
that leaf as a means of extorting at any future
time fresh sums of money from the wealthy indi-
vidual who had bribed him to abstract it ; and on
many and many an occasion had it proved the
means of replenishing his purse — until he inad-
vertently threw it amongst his waste-papers pre-
vious to his flight from Oldham at the time he so
grossly swindled me.

But the explanation relative to the leaf of the
register was the most trivial pnrHon of the com-
municdtion made to me by Dorchester, when, in
company of the Count of Livorno, I paid him that
second visit in the prison of Florence. He said
that he perfectly well recollecred that the entry of
the marriage of Augustus Mulgrave and Clara
Delmar was on the abstracted leaf; he knew that
they had become the Earl and Countess of Eccles-
ton ; and from something Lanover had said in the
course of conversation, Dorchester learnt that I
had been the object of his lordship's terror and
persecution. Thus, to use his own language, he
had been led to put two and two together ; and he
I had come to the conclusion — or at least he entcr-
! tained a very strong suspicion that I muse be the?
' offspring of that union which he himself had
i solemnized in lt20. This was the communication
\ he made to me in the gaol at Plorence ; and it
I appeared to confirm all the suspicious which had
hitherto been floating in my mind. And it was
j under this impression that previous to my setting
I off for Milan, the Count of Livorno embraced me
' with such fervour — expressing his conviction that
: evervthing which I hoped and anticipated would
, be fulfilled.

i AYhen, personifying a police-official, I obtained
admission to that house in the Milanese suburb
' where Lanover was concealed, my mother — with the
I keen eyes of a parent— at onco penetrated through
I the disguise that I wore ; and the reader will recol-
! lect the scene which took place. As for the Earl —
! he was filled with the cruellest apprehensions : ha
who had so long persecuted me, began at length to
I look upon me as the persecutor of himself I A hor-
( rible thought struck him at the very time I was
j following up, as I fancied, the advantages I had
I gained. If he could only get me to England, he
would consign me to a madhouse! Hence the
appointment which he made for a meeting in Lon-
don, on which occasion the fullest and completest

JOSEPH WILMOT; OB THE MEM0IE3 OP A MAN-SEEVAlfT.

371

revelations were promised. What more need I
say upon this subject? My wretched father's stra-
tagem was effectually carried out; aud for six
months did I languish in a lunatic asylum. My
mother at first knew not where I was : but she en-
tertained the direst misgivings — for it had long
since come to her knowledge that her husband had
carried his persecutions to such an extent as to me-
nace my life. When therefore— after the return to
London — she heard no more of me, she besought
the Earl for explanations ; and he at length gave
her to understand that I had veritably and truly
gone mad, and that I was the inmate of an asylum.
Bitter, bitter were the tears she shed : terrible were
the pangs of remorse which she experienced !

At length heaven itself appeared by a terrific
blow to be commencing the work of retribution.
My father was flung from his horse ; and in a dying
state was he borne to his home. During the night
he confessed to his horrified, agonised wife those
darkest crimes of which he had been guilty, and
which she had never before suspected to be asso-
ciated with himself. It was not all in a moment
that this confession was made : it was throughout
a long night of agony, — agony of limbs for the in-
jured and dying Earl — agony of mind for both
himself and his Countess :— but at intervals and in
a few broken words he thus gradually drew aside
the veil from the horrible past. He — her husband
•^was the instigator of the assassination of her own
father !— a murderer by complicity if not in fact !
—a forger likewise ! My mother felt as if she
must go mad, or as if her heart must break : but
she nerved herself with all possible fortitude for my
sake. She felt that she had a duty to perform — to
acknowledge me as her son — to put me in possession
of my rights— and when the breath should have left
my father's form, to proclaim me to the world as the
Earl of Eecleston, And I have said, reader, that
when liberated from the asylum I knelt by my
father's couch — I forgave him all the past — I
implored heaven to forgive him likewise : for I had
previously heard from the lips of my unhappy
mother the dread revelations which during the
night had been made unto herself !

Reader, the gap which I had left in my narra-
tive is now filled up ; and all tho mysteries of the
past are elucidated.

CHAPTEE CUV.

THE SCHOOL.

It 18 more easy to imagine than to describe the
effect which was produced upon Sir Matthew
Heseltine, Mrs. Lanover, and Annabel, when with
fecliiijs of ineffable emotion I proclaimed my rank
and announced myself to be the Earl of Eecleston.
Explanations were quickly given ; and I told them
sufficient of my wildly romantic history to make
them comprehend that I was laboui'ing under no
delusion, but that I was dealing with facts. At
the same time I spoke not a word of that most
horrible incident of the tale, — the incident which
branded my own father as a murderer I Suffice it
to say that years elapsed ere this dark tragedy was
made known, as I shall presently have to describe;
—and if such publicity had not thus been subse-

quently given to it, the reader may be well assured
that a secret so fearfully associated with my own
sire's memory, would never have been revealed
through the medium of his son's autobiography.

But to resume the thread of my narrative.
Sincere indeed were the congratulations which I re-
ceived from Sir Matthew Heseltine and Mrs.
Lanover on that wondrous accession to lofty rank
and the possession of large estates: but tJieir con-
gratulations wore conveyed in words — whereas
those of my Annabel were mutely though far more
eloquently expressed by means of her looks. Oh !
will the reader blame me that I could be happy
then ? — will he think the less of me if I avow
that I was enabled to put away from my mind all
the dark terrific shadows which recent revelations
in respect to my sire had thrown upon it ? I had
seen so much of the world's cares — I had known so
much of life's misfortunes that I felt I had a right
to bo happy on this day which had crowned all my
long cherished hopes. I felt likewise, as I had said
to the old porter at the entrance-gates, it was a
day which providence had marked out to be a happy
one !

And there was I, the wanderer who had returned
home ! — but I had come back, not the obscure un-
known youth I had gone forth from that Hall pre-
cisely two years back — I had returned the possessor
of rank and fortune, and enabled to give to ray
Annabel the surest and most signal proof of the
disinterested sincerity of my love. Not that she,
the amiable, the confiding, the pure-minded being,
had required such proof. Judging me by herself,
she had known that my love was worthy to be
reciprocated by her own ; and if I had come to
claim her hand as the obscure and humble Joseph
Wilmot whom she had expected, it would have
been conferred upon me with as much true devo-
tion as that with which it was now stretched forth
to the Earl of Eecleston !

Sir Matthew considerately whispered a proposal
that as I was in mourning for a father's death, tho
festivities which he had decreed to take place,
should be either abridged or suppressed altogether :
but I besought him to permit everything to take
its course. There would have been a selfishness
associated with my own mourning garb, if I had
allowed it to throw its dark shade upon the minds
of others ; and moreover it would have been a
miserable affectation on my part not to have en-
joyed the happiness which I experienced. There-
fore was it speedily notified unto the domestics of
the household and unto Sir Matthew's assembled
tenantry, that by the developement of certain
extraordinary and romantic circumstances I had
ceased to be the humble Joseph Wilmot, and must
now be recognised and spoken of as the Earl of
Ecclpstou. And the band again pealed forth its
music — and the assembled tenantry cheered in
front of the old Hall— and when by signs rather
than by words I had expressed from the window
my gratitude for this welcome reception, I turned
to meet the tender, loving, bashfully sweet looks of
my adored and worshipped Annabel.

Presently I retired to the chamber which was
provided for my reception, and to which my trunks
had been by this time fetched from the station at
Kendal. I had represented that I liad two or
three letters to write; and although this was
strictly true, yet was it likewise for the purpose o£

372

JOSEPH WILMOT; OH, THB MT^MOtRS 01? A MAJT- SEEVANT.

giviug unrestrained vent to inj feelings that I
Bought that half-hour's solitude. The dream of
years was now fulfilled : the hope for which I had
subsisted through misfortunes, trials, and vicissi-
tudes of every kind was now accomplished ! I had
received the assurance that Annabel was to be my
own. The tears of joy coursed each other down
my cheeks ; and frequently, frequently did I ask
myself whether it could all be possibly true, or
■whether it were a vision ? And as if to convince
myself that it was indeed all true, I sate down to
pen letters to those whom I knew to be most anxi-
ous to learn the issue of my journey into West-
moreland,— although not for a single moment had
they doubted what that issue would be. I wrote
to my mother : — for need I here say, reader, that
I had forgiven her — Oh ! I had forgiven her for
whatsoever cruelty there might have been in her
former conduct towards me ? I had forgiven her,
because my heart had yearned towards the authoress
of my being — because I looked upon her as the
victim of circumstances which had ruled her with
an almost irresistible empire — and because I never,
never could forget the kisses which she had be-
stowed and the tears which she had shed on that
memorable night when she sought my chamber —
the chamber of her son — at the hotel at Civita
Vecchia. I wrote also to the Count of Livorno,
•who was then staying at Eccleston House in Lon-
don ; and I begged that he would communicate to
the kind-hearted Mr. Saltcoats the tale of the
happiness which had awaited me at Heseltiue
Hall.

The grand banquet which Sir Matthew had or-
dered to be prepared, took place at five o'clock.
Several of the leading families in the neighbour-
hood had been invited, that all possible honour
might be done to me as the wanderer who was
welcomed home! But little had Sir Matthew
Heseltine foreseen, on issuing these invitations,
that when the festive day should come, it was as
the Earl of Eccleston that he would have to present
me to his guests ! Much more agreeable to me
would it have been to dine only in the society of
Sir Matthew, Annabel, and her mother : but, as I
have already said, it was not for me to throw a
damp upon the happiness of this memorable day,
nor to contravene any of the well-meant arrange-
ments made by Sir Matthew Heseltine.

Two days afterwards a valet from Eccleston
House arrived by the train, — my mother having
sent him down that I might have attendance suit-
able to my rank. I had promised Sir Matthew

no, I should rather say I had promised my

beloved Annabel to remain a fortnight at Hesel-
tine Hall ; and gladly would I have remained there
longer, were it not that I had business of import-
ance to attend to in London — and moreover I could
not stay too long away from my mother, to whom
recent events had given a shock which would have
been fatal were it not that there was a counter-
balancing influence in the fact that she was at length
enabled to acknowledge me as her offspring. But
inasmuch as there was every probability of my
being kept in London for some time, in order to
go through the necessary ceremonies in proving
my right to the title and estates of Eccleston, Sir
Matthew declared that it would be cruel to sepa-
rate Annabel and myself for so long a period, and
that therefore he would shortly follow me to the

metropolis with the ladies, and that they would
all pass the winter in London. I begged that Sip
Matthew would make Eccleston House his home:

but he said, " No, my dear boy for so I think

I shall ever henceforth call you ! Her ladyship
your mother is an invalid — death has lately beea
in that house; and it would therefore be unseemly
for us to take up our quarters there. I will write
to Mr. Tennant by this day's post, to instruct him
to hire a house for us with the least possible delay
And perhaps," added the Baronet, with a sig-
nificant smile, " I shall tell him that it must not
be too far distant from Manchester Square."

The fortnight of my sojourn at Heseltine Hall
elapsed — a fortnight of unalloyed happiness — a
fortnight during which the unchanging beauty of
the weather enabled me to enjoy frequent rambles
with Annabel throughout the spacious grounds.
At length the morning of departure came ; and
much of the sadness which would otherwise have
been experienced, was toned down by the certainty
of meeting in London in the course of a week or
ten days. Sir Matthew's carriage took me from
the Hall to the Railway Station ; and I proceeded
to Manchester. There I remained for the rest of
that day in order to call upon my esteemed friends
the Rowlands : for now there was no longer any
necessity to observe towards them the mystery
which I had maintained on the previous occasion.
I announced to them that title which altered
circumstances had given me ; and I received
their sincerest congratulations that providence
should have placed wealth in my hands — for they
were pleased to declare their conviction that I
should use it worthily.

Erom Manchester it was my resolve to pass by
Leicester, and to tarry for an hour or two there,
that I might visit the scenes which were so fami-
liar to my boyhood. On alighting at the Railway
Station at Leicester, I ordered William my valet
to repair to an hotel, which I named ; and I bade
him give directions to have refreshments provided
for me by a particular hour. I then set out, and
walked in the direction of that academical esta-
blishment where all the earliest years of my life
had been passed. I saw at a distance that sinister
looking building — the Workhouse !— and it seemed
to me as if it were but yesterday that the stern-
featured Jukes had led me up to that door and had
told me the name of the place I Ah, my circum-
stances were indeed cb-inged now I What mar-
vels had happened during the few years which had
elapsed since that date ! And as I advanced to-
wards the school which I soon beheld at a little
distance, I recognised many and many an object
which had been familiar to me in my boyhood ;
and my heart swelled with emotions — the same as
when a few days back I was walking along the
road from Xendal to Heseltine Hall. Ineffable
are the feelings conjured up by thus revisiting in
manhood the places that were familiar in boyhood :
indescribable are the emotions with which the spots
that were memorable in other days are thus gazed
upon. There was the playfield — and there was
the very bench on which 1 had often and often
sate, wondering why I was never visited by kind
friends as other boys were — wondering likewise
who my parents might have been — aye, and weep-
ing too, as my young heart thus pondered the
neglect, the utter abandonment which I experienced

JOSBPH WILMOT; OB, THE MEM0IE3 OP A MAN-SERVANT.

373

—the total abseDce of any who could love me or
be beloved by me !

I paused at a gate opening into that field : the
sun was shining brightly, although it was the be-
giuning of December ; and all of a sudden I
beheld a troop of happy laughing boys rushing
into the meadow. Oh ! now how vividly did old
times come back to my memory ! It seemed as if
I were a schoolboy once again — as if all that had
passed during the interval of a few years were
naught but a dream ! And again were the tears
trinkling down my cheeks, — thus affording a vent
for the emotions of my surcharged heart. I ad-
vanced towards the school : a baker's cart was
standing at the gale — that very gate where ilr.
Jukes had received me into his own cart on the
day that I left the school. A buxom-looking
woman-servant, of about twenty-seven, was now
receiving the quantities of bread which the baker
was delivering : but upon perceiving me, she came
forward and respectfully inquired if I- wished to
speak to her master or mistress ?

" No," I said, — " not immediately. Finish what
you have to do."

The young woman looked at me for a moment,
as if she thought there was something strange in
my manner ; and she went on with her task of
receiving the loaves and conveying them into the
house. I stood by, watching the proceeding with
a sort of childish interest, and with feelings that
continued to be deeply affected : for how often
and often during the years I was at school there,
had I beheld the same process — that delivery of
the numerous loaves for the consumption of the
scholars ! At length the task was accomplished :
the baker drove away with his cart; and the
woman-servant remained standing at the gate, in
the evident expectation that I should now commu-
nicate whatsoever business it was that brought me
thither.

" Who keeps this school now F" I inquired.

"Mr. and Mrs. Matthewson, sir," answered the
female-servant.

"Have they had it long ?"

" Five or six years, sir. They took it some
little while after Mrs. !N^elson gave it up at her
husband's death — and then I came back into ser-
vice here "

" What !" I exclaimed : " then you were at this
school at the time of the Nelsons ?"

" Yes, sir," replied the domestic. " But did you
know the school ?"

" Yes," I rejoined : and gradually did the recol-
lection of the woman's features come back into my
mind, although they had been altered by the lapse
of years, and her form from a more graceful slen-
derness had expanded into the buxom embonpoint
which it now possessed. " I was once a pupil
here," I continued: "it was in the Nelsons' time."

" Indeed, sir !" said the female, staring at me
fixedly, but evidently without recognising me.

"Let me ask you one or two questions," I said,
with difficulty keeping down the emotions that
were swelling into my throat. "Do you recollect
a certain Joseph Wilmot ?"

" Oh, dear me ! that I do, sir !" cried the
woman. " A sweeter and a nicer boy there never
was ! He used to be called ' Pretty Joe,' because
he had such beautiful teeth, such fine hair, and
such a slim genteel figure ; and he always used to

keep himself so neat and clean. Ah, poor boy !
well do I remember the day he left "

" And you wept on that occasion — you wept,"
I said, " as you bade him good bye— and —
and "

But here I stopped short : for the tears were
raining down my cheeks at the tide of reminis-
cences which surged up into my brain. The ser-
vant looked at me in astonishment : then a light
appeared to flash in unto her memory; and as
tears trickled down her own cheeks, she said, " Oh !
sir, is it possible ? Are — are— you "

" Yes, my good woman," I replied ; " I am that
same Joseph Wilmot for whom you wept tears of
sympathy."

" I have often thought of you, sir," said the
good creature, deeply aflected. " I wondered what
had become of you— I heard something from
Mr. Jukes at the time which made me very
sad "

" You heard," I interrupted her, " that it was
intended to consign me to the workouse : but I
fled from the door of that hideous place ."

At this moment a short, stout, elderly gentle-
man, dressed in black, with knee-breeches and-
gaiters, and having altogether an old-fashioned
look, came forth from the school.

" Oh, Mr. MathewsoD, sir !" exclaimed the ser-
vant, running towards him : " here is a young gen-
tleman who was brought up in this place in the
time of Mr. and Mrs. Nelson ! It is that very
same Joseph Wilmot I have so often told you and
mistress of "

" Indeed ! Joseph Wilmot ?" ejaculated Mr.
Mathewson. " Why, what was I reading about
just now in the local paper ? Ah, 1 recollect !"—
and taking off his hat, the schoolmaster made mo
a profound bow, — saying, " My lord, I am highly

flattered But here is Mrs. Mathewson! •

Mrs. Mathewson, my dear, you will be astonished !
This is Lord Eccleston who has condescended to
pay us a visit."

The wife — a portly good-humoured dame, with
a very red face — bustled forward and bade me wel-
come. Nothing could exceed the surprise — the
utter bewilderment, in short, of the servant-woman
on thus learning my present rank, the announce-
ment of which I had not entertained the slightest
intention of making. The Mathewsons invited
me to walk in ; and I at once complied with their
request. I went all over the house : need I repeat
that phrase which during the last few pages of my
narrative I have so often had to place on record-
that my emotions swelled strongly within me ! I
went into the school-room : I sate myself down in
the very place where, as a forlorn and friendless
boy, I was wont to sit when a scholar there ; and
I wept noio at the recollection of the weepings in
which I had so frequently been immersed at the
time over which I was thus rctrospecting! I went
up into the bed-room where I had slept. There
was the corner in which my pallet had stood :
there was the spot where at nigbt I had so often
and often lain awake, wondering and weeping be-
cause I felt myself to be friendless and neglected!
Ob, what scalding tears had I shed in that very
room where I had slept alone during the vacations,
when all the other boys were gone full of glee to
their happy homes — and I the only one who was
left behind !

37*

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OB, THE MESIOIES OP A MAN-3EEVA1JT.

The Mathewsons attended me over the house : I
did not attempt to conceal from them the feelings
which I experienced: I saw that they were kind
and worthj people — and I was not ashamed that
in their presence tears should thus bedew my
cheeks. When the inspection of the premises was
over, they besought me to partake of refresh-
ments; and I accepted their invitation, because I
saw that it would afford them pleasure. I told
them how their good-hearted servant had wept
when I left that house a few years back, and under
circumstances so ftrlorn that it appeared incredible
bow they could have engendered other circum-
stances which should have wrought this wondrous
change in my position. I learnt from Mrs. Ma-
thewson that the good-hearted creature who was
the subject of our present discourse, had been for
some time engaged to a small struggling trades-
man in the town : but that inasmuch as he had
found himself compelled to combat against misfor-
tunes, they had not yet dared to venture upon mar-
riage. I learnt that the man was of an excellent
character; and my mind was made up how to act:
but on this point I said not a word to the Ma-
thewsons at the time. On rising to take my leave,
I begged that for the following day there might be
an entire suspension of studies — or, in other
words, that the scholars might enjoy a "whole
holiday."

On departing from the school, I bent my way
into the town of Leicester. There I at once pro-
ceeded to the shop of the tradesman who has just
been referred to. I concisely told him the motive
I had for wishing to ensure the happiness of a
good-hearted woman who had displayed her gene-
rous sympathy on behalf of a poor friendless boy,
as I once was. I left with the man a Jiundred
guineas ; and I rushed from the shop in order to
escape the expressions of that gratitude which was
so wildly joyous. I will here add— although it is
not precisely its place — that I subsequently learnt
the results of the boon I had thus conferred. By
the aid of that money all the tradesman's diffi-
culties vanished : it was to him a fortune : the
marriage was solemnized with the object of hi?
affections — the alliance has proved a happy one —
and there is not at this moment a more thriving
tradesman in the town of Leicester than he to
whom I allude.

But let me take up the thread of my narrative
at the point where I for a moment dropped it. I
rushed away from that grateful tradesman's shop;
and I proceeded to a pastrycook's, — where I ex-
pended many pounds in the purchase of all the
cakes and confectionary which I deemed most
suitable for the regalement of the boys at the
school on the following day. All these articles I
ordered to be sent up to the Mathewsons'. I then
proceeded to the hotel ; and thence I despatched a
quantity of wine to the same destination, — to-
gether with a note to Mr. Mathewson, requesting
that his pupils might be allowed to accept the
little banquet thus furnished them by one who in
former times had been a schoolboy at the same
place.

Having partaken of the refreshments which
William my valet had ordered, I proceeded in a
hackney-vehicle to the railway station. When the
" fly " drove up to the entrance, a wretched-looking
man, clothed almost in rags, hastened forward to

open the door in the hope of receiving a few penoo
for his officiousness.

" Now then, you feller, stand back !" said a rail-
way porter, in whose charge my luggage bad been
left at the station, and who had therefore seen by
the cards which my valet had placed upon the
trunks, who I was. "Don't you see his lordship
hiis got his own servant here ?"

The wretched man shrank back; and just at
that instant I caught a full view of his counte-
nance. Good heavens ! was it possible ? — was tha
once stout burly form reduced by misery to this
emaciation ? and had that harsh sternness of coun-
tenance which had once so terrified me, become
changed into an expression of mingled misery and
dissipation ? Yes — it was he ! I was shocked
beyond measure : though it could not be supposed
I entertained much sympathy for one who had
leagued himself amongst my enemies. I hastened
onward into the station, with the intention of
sending out a few shillings by my valefc to the
miserable mendicant.

" Here's your luggage, my lord," said the rail-
way porter.

I took out my purse ; and on glancing round,
perceived that the mendicant had followed into
the booking-office, and that he was now stooping
down to read the card upon one of the boxes.

" Now then, you be off!" exclaimed the railway
porter; "or it will be the worse for you, my
man."

" Do not speak harshly to him," I said : and
then turniug towards the wretch, I looked him
fixedly in the face, — inquiring in a low tone, " Do
you know me?"

He took off his battered old hat ; and being evi-
dently astonished at the question, he stammered
forth, " I know your lordship is the Earl of Ecclea-
ton — but what your lordship means ■"

"I 'know you !" I interrupted him, "Your
name is Jukes."

He started and looked at me with a bewildered
air, with which the grovelling entreaty of the
mendicant was visibly and painfully blended.

"You do not recognise me," I continued. " No
matter ! Take this :" — and I placed a sovereign in
his hand. " I at least have the satisfaction of re-
turning good for evil."

At that instant a light broke in unto the man's
mind ; and he exclaimed, " Is it possible ? You,
my lord — Joseph— an Earl "

"Enough!" I interrupted him. "You see that
heaven's justice eventually fulfils itself. You, from
comfort and competency, have come down to want
and beggary : I from that friendless wretchedness
which excited not your compassion, have been
raised up to what you now behold me."

Jukes, in a whining, snivelling tone, began a
story about "unavoidable misfortunes:" but I
turned my back upon him : I had relieved a fellow
creature in distress— but I had no sympathy for
the individual himself. He was about to follow
me out upon the platform : but the railway official
ordered him back; and this time I did not inter-
fere on his behalf. I entered the train ; and in a
few minutes was being whirled rapidly away from
Leicester.

JOSEPH WIIMOT; OB, THE MEMOIUS OE A MAW-SERVANT.

372

CHAPTER CLV.

atOEE MEEIINGS WIIH OLD ACQUAIXTANCES.

I WAS the sole occupant o? the comparttuent which
I Lad entered, until the train reached Eugby. This
was at about seven o'clock in the evening ; and it
was consequently at that season of the year quite
dark. The gas was lighted at the station : the
usual oil-lamp threw its sickly glimmer from the
roof of the compartment itself. The train waited
for about a quarter of an hour at Eugby ; and I
stepped forth to take a turn or two upon the plat-
form.

While I was thus engaged, I beheld a very tall
man-servant, in a shabby livery, with tarnished
gold lace, carrying an enormous French poodle
under each arm. Those arms were evidently very
much cramped by the burdens which they thus
sustained ; and he looked the very picture of
wretchedness— so rueful was the expression of his
countenance ! I knew him at once : there could
be no possibility of mistake. This was John
Eobert, footman in the service of Mr. and Lady
Georgiana Tiverton. Though some years had
elapsed since I last saw him, he appeared but
little changed — unless indeed it were that he had
grown thinner in form and more lugubrious in
countenance : while on the other hand he had to
carry a much fatter pair of poodles than those
whicb he was doomed to take care of at the time
when I was a still humbler menial in the same
household as himself. I was about to accost him,
to inquire concerning his master and mistress,—
when I perceived them hastily approaching; and
at the same instant the bell rang for the passen-
gers to take their seats.

I returned to the compartment in which I
had hitherto travelled : but scarcely had I settled
myself in my place, when one of the railway offi-
cials hurried up to the door — bobbed in his head —
then turning abruptly round, shouted out, " There's
plenty of room here, sir !"

The next moment, who should come up to the
very compartment but Mr. Tiverton and Lady
Georgiana ?

" Where is John Robert ?" inquired her lady-
ship, in that half languid, half severe tone which
I remembei-ed so well. "Those poor dear pets
will catch their very death with cold "

" Here I am, my lady," said the miserable foot-
man, coming up to the door with a dog under each
arm. " The poodles, my lady "

" 'Now don't answer me, John Robert," inter-
rupted Lady Georgiana. "You know very well
that I can put up with anything except being an-
swered. Let the dear little pets lightly and gently
down into this carriage "

" Bfg your pardon, ma'am," said the railway
official, " but dogs are not allowed inside the car-
riages "

" Dear me !" exclaimed the indignant lady :
" what is the world coming to ? A person of my
rank "

"Please, my lady," said the footman, evidently
rendered desperate by having the care of the dogs,
" if these dear little pets ain't taken into a nice
warm place where there's a carpet, I'm certain
sure they'll be starved with the cold."

" Pray ir>y good man," said Lady Georgiana to
the official, " do — do, if you have the heart of a
Christian, let these dear little amiables come into
this carriage."

" Yes, pi-ay do," said Mr. Tiverton : and he
displayed a half-crown between his finger and
thumb.

" Well, sir," said the railway official, " I have
no objection. But perhaps that gentleman yonder"
— now looking at me — " might be annoyed by the
dogs "

" No," I said : " do not consider me in the
case."

" In with them, John Eobert !" exclaimed Lady
Georgiana vehemently, as if she were afraid that
the permission just awarded might be thought
better of and recalled.

I saw John Robert's countenance become as
much animated with joy as such a rueful face
could possibly expand from its wonted lugubrious-
ness : and first he let one obese poodle gently down
into the carriage — and then the other.

" Dear pet !" said Lady Georgiana, patting one
brute : " dear little love !" she added, patting the
other : then suddenly bethinking herself of other
things, she exclaimed, "Eun, John Eobert, and see
that all the luggage is safe. There's that green
trunk without the hinges "

" And there's the carpet-bag without the pad-
lock," interjected Mr. Tiverton.

" And Ihe great black box with the broken lid,"
continued Lady Georgiana.

" And the small deal box with the bottom half
out," said Mr. Tiverton.

"And the two bandboxes, already smashed "

" But my lady," interposed John Eobert, " the
porter took care of them all when we changed
carriages "

" Now don't answer me, John Eobert," inter-
rupted Lady Georgiana. " You know that I can
put up with anything except being answered ■"

" Do run, John Robert 1" cried Atr. Tiverton.

"Take your seats!" echoed through the stations
and the cry was followed by the locomotive whistle
— and then by the slamming of doors all along
the train.

" Get to your seat, my man," said the railway
official, who was waiting at the door of our com-
partment— for a purpose which was obvious
enough.

" Hah ! hem ! It's very kind of the man to let
us have the dogs inside— isn'c it my dear ?" and
as Mr. Tiverton thus spoke, he quietly returned
the half-crown to his waistcoat pocket.

Tlie disappointed official gave the door a bang
which resounded throughout the station ; and the
train was almost immcdiatrly in motion.

I had now leisure to observe that though age
had aggravated the thinness of Lady Georgiana
and had added to the wrinkles on her husband's
countenance, in other respects they seemed by
no means altered. Her ladyship had on an old
lavender-coloured silk gown : and I could almost
have sworn it was the very same she used to wear
when I was at Myrtle Lodge. As for Mr. Tiver-
ton, he seemed to be apparelled in precisely the
same suit as that which he likewise wore at that
time — except with an increased degree of shabbi-
ness and seediness, if possible. I perceived that thoy
in their turn were now examining me, — Mr. Tivcr-

376

JOSKPH WILMOT; OE, THE MEMOrRS OP A MA^T-SERVATTT.

ton somewhat furtively — but Lady Georgiana with
a more tixod scrutiny of her cold pale blue eyes.
Gradually I had noticed that her ladyship's coun-
tenance grew more and more animated : she was
gathering her reminiscences : the ideas were at
work that were tending towards complete recogni-
tion. At length I saw her nudge her husband,
and whisper something in his ear : whereupon his
scrutiny of me became more marked and posi-
tive.

"Ask him, Mr. Tiverton — ask him!" I now
heard Lady Georgiana impetuously whisper to her
husband.

"I think," said this gentleman, leaning towards
me, — " I think, if I am not mistaken, that you
must be a certain Joseph Wilmot, who was once in
my service ?"

" I was once in your service, Mr. Tiyerton," I
answered in a somewhat cold manner.

" And in a first-class carriage !" said Lady
Georgiana, heaving a profound sigh, as if the very
idea were enough to make her faint. " Well, I'm
sure ! what will the world come to next .'' If John
Eobert, an old servant, rides in a second-class
carriage "

" Hush, my dear," said Mr. Tiverton : " don't
you see how well Joseph is dressed, although it is
mourning?" — and notwithstanding he spoko in a
whisper, his words were perfectly audible.

"Dress indeed I" said Lady Georgiana, without
attempting to lower hur tone : " every y( ung man
apes the gentleman uow-a-days !" — and then she
pursed up her mouth as if in deep disgust of
what she conceived to be my audacious conduct.

There were a few minutes' silence; and then
at last Lady Georgians said, as she darted a spite-
ful glance at me, "Even if you have the impudence
to travel in a first-class carriage, you ought to be
ashamed of yourself to remain in the same place
with so near a relation to the late unfortunate
Lady Calanthe Dundas."

" Lady Georgiana Tiverton," I said, in a solemnly
mournful voice, " that is indeed a topic which ever
smites my heart with woe : but I beseech that no
unavailing discussion may be raised upon it. Your
ladyship will however please to observe that I did
net force myself upon the society of yourself and
your husband. Had I foreseen the probability of
becoming your travelling-companion, I should have
endeavoured to avoid it."

" Pray don't answer me, sir," inteijected Lady
Georgiana : and it was a wonder she had heard me
to even such a length. " You ought to know, as
you were once in my service, that I can put up
with almost anything except being answered. I
must however inform you that if you did not
exactly force yourself into the same compartment
as that which Mr. Tiverton and I occupy, — yet by
the fact of not knowing your proper place, and
by this presumption on your part which makes
you travel first-class instead of third-class, you
have brought about a meeting and a companion-
ship which are so little agreeable."

"Madam," I answered, "at the next station
where the strain stops, I will change into another
carriage."

Lady Georgiana bowed very stiffly — but gave
no response.

" "Well, my dear," said Mr. Tiverton presently,
" I shall be very glad when we are in London.

Eeally we have become quite gay ! First staying
with our friends at Stafford — now going to other
friends in the metropolis "

"And I also shall be very glad to get to Lon-
don, Mr. Tiverton," interrupted Lady Georgiana,
" for the sake of these dear sweet pets :" — and sho
patted first one obese poodle, and then the other.

" I understand there's a nobleman in the train,"
observed Mr. Tiverton, afcer another pause. " I
overheard one of the officials say at the Eugby
Station that the Earl of Eccleston "

" That must be the new Earl of Eccleston,"
said Lady Georgiana. "The former one, you
know, died three weeks or a month back. Indeed,
I believe he was killed by a fall from his horse.
But I never knew he had a son "

" I did not read any particulars respecting hia
lordship's death," observed Mr. Tiverton.

" !Xor I either," added Lady Georgiana. " I
only heard some one talking on the subject at tho
party the other night at Stafford. But the new
Earl, I understand, must be quite a young
man "

'■ I dare say we shall see him presently. TTe
will get one of the officials to point him out to us
at the next station where the train stops. But
no doubt we shall be introduced to him in Lon-
don."

"Of course!" interjected Lady Greorgiana.
" With my connexions I have only to say the word
ir order to be introduced to whomsoever I ♦hink
fit, and have whomsoever I think fit introduced to
me."

" Of course ! no doubt, my dear !" said Mr.
Tiverton.

At this moment the locomotive's whistle
screeched forth its warning note; and in a few
minutes the train stopped at Wolverton. I im-
mediately beckoned to a railway official, who came
forward and opened the door. As I passed Lady
Georgiana, I raised my hat with that courtesy
which was due to a lady — though perhaps to her
especially it was scarcely due at all.

" Stop !" said her ladyship, as a sadden idea
seemed to strike her. "I think you had better
remain where you are, young man. If you ask to
change your carriage, the officials will set it down
to annoyance at my beautiful pets ; and therefore
you will perhaps do me the favour to resume your
seat."

It was only on account of the dogs that her
ladyship thus spoke with a sort of civility, and
used the word " favour :" but I did not choose to
do anything purposely to vex her ; and I therefore
again bowed and returned to my place. Perhaps,
too, I may add without incurrio,'^ the imputatioa
of vanity, that I wished to punish her ladyship as
well as her husband for the supercilious manner in
which they had treated me ; and therefore I was
all the more inclined to remain in their company
to observe what their conduct would be when a
certain discovery should be made in respect to my-
self. There were five minutes to wait at Wolver-
ton ; and Lady Georgiana's husband, availing
himself of the leisure, issued forth from the car-
riage— I could guess very well for what pur-
pose.

I beheld him accost the guard of the train and
speak to him for a few moments. Then the guard
swept his eyes along the train, as if in search of

some particular cnrriage. But at tbis iustant my
own valet came to the door of the compartment
where 1 and Lady Georgiana had remained seated ;
and with the habitual tone of respect, at the same
time touching his hat, he said, " Can I procure
jour lordship any refreshment P"

" No, I thank you, William," I answered :
whereupon he again touched his hat, and with-
drew.

I should observe that at the very instant he ad-
dressed me by my patrician title, Lady Georgiana
gave 80 sudden a start that she either kicked or
put her foot upon the tail of the great fat poodle
which was wheezing and dozing at her feet : so
that the unfortunate brute gave a howl of pain.
But so lost in bewildered astonishment was Lady
Georgiana, that she did not appear to take the
slightest notice of the accident — though under any
other circumstances she would have immediatelv
begun petting, caressing, and condoling with her
lOO

injured favourite. She continued to gaze upon me
in that same vacant manner, as if utterly at a loss
what to think; and then I perceived that she
pursed up her mouth and tossed her head con-
temptuously, as if she had suddenly arrived at the
conclusion that she must have misunderstood what
was said, and had for a moment suffered herself to
be beguiled into a belief which she now scorned to
entertain. •

But almost at the same instant that this pursing
up of the mouth and tossing of the head took
place, a glance from the window towards the plat-
form showed me that the guard and Mr. Tiverton
had just halted in front of my compartment, —
they having doubtless taken a rapid walk along-
side the array of carriages until the guard was
enabled to point me out to his curious querist.
Then away sped the guard — the bell rang— there
was the bustle of the passengers flocking back to
their seats — doors were slamming — and Mr. Tiver-

378

JOSEPH ■WIIMOT ; OE, THE MEMOTHB 05 A MAN-SERVANT.

ton re-entered the compartment where Lady
Greorgiana and myself were seated. I saw plainly
enough that the gentleman was in a complete state
of bewildered astonishment, — incredulous as to
what he had heard, yet not knowing how to dis-
believe it — but equally puzzled how to believe it.
As for myself, I maintained my composure with as
much serenity and self-^jossession as if bothing
peculiar were going on.

Mr. Tiverton's place was exactly facing mine ;
Lady Greorgiana's seat was in the middle, on the
same side as her husband's. Stumbling over the
great fat poodle which lay at his wife's feet, !Mr.
Tiverton fell heavily against me ; and instantly
confounding himself in apologies, he said in the
most impressive tones, " A thousand pardons, my

lord 1 beseech your lordship's forgiveness

I would not for the world 1 am sure, my lord,

you must see that I did not mean it very far

from it, my lord 1 "

Disgusted with the man's sycophancy, I said in a
cold voice and with reserved manner, " No farther
apology is necessary, sir."

" Dear me, is it possible P" said Lady Georgiana,
now becoming all amiability : " is it possible we
should have this honour-^that we should be so
fortunate -^ and that such a very extraordinary
event should have occurred ? I am sure, my lord,
if I just now said anything that was disagree-
able— — "

"I can only repeat, madam, what I have just
said to your ladyship's husbacJ," 1 coldly inter-
rupted her, " no farther apology is necessary."

" Yes— but my dear Earl," said Lady Georgiana,
—"for your lordship must really permit me to
claim the privilege of old acquaintance to assert
the right of a friendly feeling at the present time

— you must positively forgive us both — We

could not possibly conceive 1 am sure if I had

known it, we never would have had these nasty
dogs in the carriage ! They are the plagues of my
life ; and that lazy good-for-nothing fellow John
Eobert should have taken care of them."

'•' I can assure your ladyship," I said, " that the
dogs do not annoy me in the least. I am only
afraid that Mr. Tiverton trod rather heavily upon
one."

" Oh ! Mr. Tiverton is the clumsiest and most
awkward of men !" exclaimed her ladyship, darting
an angry glance at her husband, as if he were the
cause of all the misunderstanding which had taken
place. " I'm sure, my dear Earl, nothing gives me
greater pleasure than to see you looking so veil.

You are so altered but still I knew you

again."

'• Hush, my dear," said Mr. Tiverton : " we
need not make any allusions that refer to past
matters. I can assure your lordship that it shall
never go forth from our lips "

" That I was once a menial in your service ?" I
said, with a sort of calm and quiet contempt.
"Eeally, Mr. Tiverton, I do not see that I have
any reason to be ashamed on account of having
at one time of my life eaten the bread of honest
industry. In respect to titles, rank, and riches, I
believe that they are too often possessed by per-
sons whose character and intelligence will not for
a moment bear comparison with thousands and
thousands of those honest and enlightened sons of
toil who from their youth to their old age eat

the bread which is earned by the sweat of the
brow."

"Those are admirable sentiments, my dear
Earl," said Lady Georgiana; "and I perfectly
agree with them."

I made no answer ; for I knew she was telling
a falsehood, and that in the prejudice of her own
heart she looked upon everything that was noble
by title to be ennobled also by character ; and that
on the other hand the real nobles of nature — the
worthy ones amoegst the sons of toil — were re-
garded by her as something less than the dirt
beneath her feet.

" Well, truly, my lord," said Mr. Tiverton, after
a brief pause — and evidently fidgeting about for
some means of reopening the discourse, — '■' this is
a very extraordinrry circumstance. When the
guard just now pointed you out to me, you might
have knocked me down with a feather. I never
was «o astonished in all my life—"

" And I never was so pleased," said Lady
Georgiana. " I am sure his lordship shares the
feeling : for this encounter is in all respects so

agreeable — so pleasing — so gratifying But dear

me ! my lord, if it is not indelicate, pray do tell
us how all this came about."

"Your ladyship perceives that I'm in mourn-
ing," I said ; " and from your conversation with
Mr. Tit^rton I have gathered that you remember
how recent is the paternal loss that I have
sustained. Your ladyship will therefore excuse

uie "

" Oh, certainly, my dear Earl !" she ejaculated,
being now full of vivacity and animation : " we
can make allowance for your lordship's feelings.
But of course we shall see something of you in
London P May we without indiscretion venture to
call upon you and the Countess your mother r"

" My mother," I responded, " has experienced
a dreadful shock on account of my father's sudden
and dreadful death : she cannot therefore receive
visitors. As for myself, I shall have a great deal

to occupy my attention "

" Oh, of course ! we can very well understand
that," interjected Lady Georgiana : "but we shall
no doubt see something of you, as we shall be in
London for several months. We are going to stay
with our friends Sir Jeremy and Lady Jessop ; and
then we are going to pass some time with my

father Lord Mandeville "

" I have no doubt, my lady," I answered, " that
I shall have the pleasure of meeting yourself and
Mr. Tiverton again."

In this manner I continued to fence with a sort
of cold courtesy, against her servile civilities, until
the train reached the station in the metropolis.
Then John Eobert made his appearance at the
door of the compartment, apparently to receive
the obese poodles : but at a glance it was quite
evident that some potent fluid had been at work
to disturb the tall domestic's equanimity. In
plain terms, John Eobert was drunk.

He could scarcely sustain himself upon his legs:
he swayed to and fro, — endeavouring to hiccup out
something ; and nothing could exceed the min-
gled mortification and rage of Lady Georgiana
Tiverton when the conviction burst upon her that
the " faithful dependant," who had suffered him-
self for so many years to be bullied and half,
starved in her service, was now so completely dis-

JOSEPH WIIMOT} OB, THE MEMOIEg OP A MAK-SERVANT.

379

guised in liquor that she scarcely knew John
Eobert at all ! Nevertheless her ladyship was
determined to make one eflort to arouse the
lacquey to a sense of his duty ; and she therefore
said in her sternest tone, '•' Take off your hat,
directly, John Eobert ! Do you know in whose
presence you are standing P This is the Earl of
Eccleston."

33ut John Eobert mutteringly vowed that he
-would see himself at the hottest place he could
think of before he would take off his hat to any
living being. He then proceeded to pour forth a
volley of imprecations against the eyes and limbs
of the two unfortunate poodles, — winding up his
tirade by threatening to punch the head of his
master, '' old Tiverton," as he called him.

Tor this purpose John Eobert was beginning to
take off his coat, — when I ordered my valet, who
had just stepped up to the spot, to get the intoxi-
cated man into a cab : but John Eobert became
furious, — vowing that nothing would satisfy him
but that " he must pitch into old Tiverton." A
crowd collected ; and Lady Georgiana declared that
she was about to faint. It was very kind and con-
siderate of her to give this timely warning of her
intention, inasmuch as it afforded me the opportu-
nity of hastily whispering to her that perhaps she
had better not, for fear lest some mischief should
happen to the poodles. She accordingly followed
my advice ; and turning to her husband (they both
being still inside the carriage, and I having stepped
out), she said very sharply, " Come Mr. Tiverton —
don't remain dawdling here ! Take these nasty
tiresome brutes up in your arms. It was all your
fault that I brought them !"

One of the railway police-oflGioers had now got
hold of John Eobert, who thereupon grow per-
fectly frantic ; and throwing about his long lanky
legs and lean arms like a windmill, he vociferated,
" Who starves their servants ? who makes them
sit down to bones with no meat on 'em ? Old
Tiverton and his wife ! Let me punch the old
rascal's head ! I'll take the shine out of him ! I've
nursed it in my buzzim for years !"

" Take him to the station-house," shrieked out
Lady Georgiana ; and the miserable John Eobert
was borne off accordingly.

I bade my valet render what assistance be
could to Mr. and Lady Georgiana Tiverton ; and
overwhelmed with mortification, they packed them-
selves in a cab, poodles and all. They drove off
amidst a general titter on the part of the crowd
assembled on the platform ; and then I proceeded
without further loss of time to Manchester Square.
On my arrival at Eccleston House, I was affec-
tionately embraced in the arms of my mother, and
most warmly congratulated by the Count of Li-
vorno on the happy result of my visit into West-
morelaud.

CHAPTER CLVL

AT HOME.

On the following day my friend Saltcoats called
according to an appointment ; and sincerely did I
thank the worthy man for all the kind interest he
had exhibited on my behalf. Dominie Clack-

mannan and his wife, the late Widow Glenbucket,
had for some months past been in Scotland,
whither Saltcoats was about to repair in order to
rejoin them : but he had remained in London in
order to welcome me on my return from West-
moreland. I made him pass the entire day with
us ; and I exacted from him a promise that after
spending a few mouths with his friends in Scot-
land, he would come and pass a month with me. I
charged him with letters for the Dominie as well
as for Mr. Duncansby in Edinburgh; and we
parted with renewed assurances of friendship.

The Count of Livorno remained with us a few
days : and then he likewise took his departure —
but with a thorough understanding that he was to
bring his Countess over to England in the Spring
to pass a few months with ua. Need I say that
before we separated I renewed the expressions of
all that gratitude which I experienced towards
this excellent nobleman for the many kindnesses
which I had received at his hands ?

The dreadful secret connected with the late Mr.
Delmar's murder remained locked up in the breast
of my mother and myself : not a syllable on the
subject did we breathe to Mr, and Mrs. Howard,
whom we now contantly saw. How rejoiced was
I to be enabled to claim as a near and dear rela-
tive that Edith who had sympathized so gene-
rously with me when as a poor friendless boy I
was thrown by accident upon her father's bounty !
From motives of delicacy both she and Mr,
Howard forbore from asking for any further ex-
planations of the past than those which my mother
and myself thought fit to give them ; and when
once the subject had been disposed of, it was
touched upon no more. I had other relatives with
whom to make an acquaintance ; and these were
the daughters of my father's elder brother — that
elder brother whom he had succeeded in the title.
I found them to be amiable and beautiful girls :
with the most unaffected joy did they welcome me
as their cousin and recognise me as the head of the
family.

According to promise, Sir Matthew Heseltine
came with the ladies to London, and took pos-
session of a commodious handsomely furnished
house which Mr. Tennant, the solicitor, had hired
for them in Portman Square. Never shall I for-
get the day on which the beauteous Annabel was
first presented to my mother ! The meeting was
both joyous and affecting. Annabel beheld for the
first time the now widowed authoress of my being :
and for the first time likewise did my mother con-
template the loveliness of her who for years had
been the object of my heart's devotion. Indeed,
it was with a gushing enthusiasm that my mother
folded Annabel in her arms, and welcomed her as
the one who was to be her daughter-in-law. Nor
on Mr. Lanover's account was there the slightest
repugnance on my mother's part towards Mrs.
Lanover : indeed if there had been, the amiable
disposition, the sweet manners, and the purity of
character which combined to render Annabel's
mother so estimable a being, could not havo failed
to produce their effect upon my own parent. As
for Sir Matthew, — the worthy old Baronet shed
tears of happiness on the occasion of that first
meeting with my mother.

When Parliament met iu the first week of
February, in the year 1843,. I was enabled without

380

JOSEPH WIIMOT; OS, THE MEMOIRS O^ A MAN-SEEVAllT.

the slightest difEculty to take the oaths as a Peer
of England and my seat in the House of Lords.
Thus my title being fully recognised, and there
having been no opposition from any quarter to
my inheritance of the vast estates of Eccleston, I
had no farther business of a legal character to en-
gage my attention. My mother was beginning
somewhat to recover her spirits — but only par-
tially : for, alas ! on that night of awful revela-
tions by the bed-side of her perishing husband she
had received a shock which it was evident she
could never completely surmount. Yet for my
sake she exerted every effort to raise her spirits ;
and she insisted that I should have all those in
whom we were interested, as often at the mansion
as possible. Indeed, unknown to me she would
frequently send and invite her sister Edith and
Mr. Howard, my cousins. Sir Matthew, Mrs.
Lanover, and Annabel, to dinner at Eccleston
House ; and she was constantly asking me when I
expected from foreign parts any of those frienda
whom I had so often mentioned to her.

In the Spring we had a large party of visitors.
There were the Count and Countess of Livorno,
who according to the promise of the former had
come to spend some time with us. There were the
Count and Countess of Avellino, who joyously con-
I gratulated me in words, as they had previously
done by letter, on the marvellous change in my
position. They bore likewise kind letters from the
Count of Tivoli— and from the young Viscount a
much warmer one than I could possibly have anti-
cipated from such a source. There too were the
Count and Countess of Monte d'Oro, and Signer
Portici, who were equally fervid in their congra-
tulations as all the rest of my friends. I failed
not to inquire after the young page— though a
page no longer ; and the Count of Monte d'Oro
told me with a smile that he also would have come
to London to pay his respects to me, were it not
that he was enchained in Corsica by the spells ex-
isting in the superb dark eyes of a young lady —
an heiress indeed — at Ajaccio. I must not forget
to add that the worthy Mr. Saltcoats was likwise a
guest at Eccleston House at the same time with
my other friends ; and I could scarcely help
smiling when on alighting from the cab which
brought him hither from the railway, he made his
appearance in a complete new suit of grey from
the very hat on his head to the stockings on his
feet !

We gave no large parties at this time, nor was
there any dancing in the house, because not many
months had elapsed since my father's death. But,
on the other hand, it was a happy party. Mr.
Saltcoats became an universal favourite ; and I re-
member how great was the worthy gentleman's
delight when Annabel one day presented him a
beautiful bead purse which she had made on pur-
pose for him. His unvarying good-nature endeared
him to everybody; and my mother was careful
that there should every day be three or four of his
favourite Scotch dishes upon the table, and that he
should never sit down to breakfast without finding
a dish of Finnan haddocks, served in the Scotch
fashion.

I must here observe that I wrote to a solicitor
at Liverpool, whom my own lawyer mentioned to
me, — requesting him to make inquiries for a cer-
tain Mis. iN^elsou who had once kept a school ia

the neighbourhood of Leicester. In a few days I
received an answer to the effect that Mrs. Nelson
had for some years past been living with a maiden
sister at Liverpool — but that through many unfore-
seen circumstances, they had fallen into extreme
poverty. I wrote a letter to Mrs. ISTelson, to tell
her who Joseph Wilmot had turned out to be, and
remind her that ai. the time I parted from her a
year's payment on my account was due. I sent her
a cheque for two hundred guineas, — bidding her
apply to me at any future period in case this re-
mittance should not enable her to lay the founda-
tion for a comfortable livelihood for herself and her
sister for the remainder of their days. The response
which I received was of a most affecting character ;
and I am happy to be enabled to add that the
money which I thus sent her bad the effect of
placing herself and sister in a position which ren-
dered it unnecessary to make any future application
to my bounty.

I must here relate a little incident which occurred
during the time we were entertaining that large
circle of friends at Eccleston House. I was one
day passing through the hall, from one room to
another, when I perceived a woman, very indif-
ferently clad, talking to the hall-porter. She looked
about fifty years of age — though subsequent recol-
lections made me aware that she could not in
reality be more than one or two-and-forty. Her
appearance was poverty-stricken : a poor cotton
gown, a scanty shawl, and an old straw bonnet were
the principal articles of her toilet. She was miser-
ably thin — with a haggard, careworn, half-starved
countenance. I should not have taken such parti,
cular notice of her, were it not that I heard her
say in such a tone of piteous entreaty that it quite
went to my heart, " Oh ! do let me see the house-
keeper ! Perhaps she would take me ?"

" Eeally, my good woman," the hall-porter re-
sponded, " I know it is of no use : a younger
person is required. But here is half-a-crown for
you, since you are in distress "

Here the hall-porter stopped short : for he caught
sight of me.

" What is it, James ?" I inquired : and me-
thought I had a dim recollection of the features of
that wretched-looking woman.

"Please my lord," replied the hall-porter,
" there's an under kitchen-maid wanted ; and this
poor woman was told of the place on inquiring at
the baker's."

" Well," I said, " you had perhaps better suffer
her to see the housekeeper : for if she be in such
distress, and if she be honest "

" Oh, my lord !" cried the wretched woman,
tears streaming down her haggard cheeks, " pray
do have mercy upon me ! I am starving— and this
very morning have I been turned out of the
wretched little lodging which I occupied ! I have
seen better days — I have lived in genteel families
— I have become reduced — and now to earn my
bread I would take any situation, however menial !"

While she was thus speaking, those recollections
which were at first so vague and dim, grew stronger
in my mind — until at length the recognition was
complete. I knew this wretched woman : but I
did not betray by my countenance that I thus
recognised her — while I perceived that she enter-
tained not the remotest suspicion of my identity
with an; one she had known before.

JOSEPH WILMOT; OB, THB MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT.

381

" Step this way," I said : and I conducted her to
the learest unoccupied room.

When we were alone together, I looked her very
hard in the face ; and I said, " Do you know me P"

" I presume I have the honour of speaking to
the Earl of Eccleston," she responded, half-bewil-
dered by my question : " but I never to my know
ledge beheld your lordship before."

" If I am about to make a revelation unto you,"
I said, " it is from no motive of idle vanity — much
less to have the appearance of triumphing over
one who is fallen in the world. On the contrary,
it is my intention to give you some little relief:
though as for receiving you into this house, it is
impossible. My object is to convince you that
there are people in the world who can return good
for evil "

She stared at me with a stupid astonishment:
it was still evident that she was utterly unsus-
picious of the fact I was about to reveal to her.

" Tour name," I said, " is Dakin — and you were
once companion to Lady Creorgiana Tiverton at
Myrtle Lodge."

"Yes— it was so, my lord!" she answered, be-
coming troubled. " But you, my lord No, it

can't be ! it is impossible !" — and there was a wild
surprise in her looks. " It is utterly out of the
question!"

" It is as you begin to suspect," I said. " In
me you behold that same Joseph Wilmot whom

But I will not torture you by reference to

the past No, nor did I mean this !"

For the unhappy woman had sunk down with a
stifled scream at my feet ; and there she began
weeping and sobbing piteously.

"Rise," I said; "rise! I will not reproach
you. I see that you have suffered enough from
the adversities which have overtaken you. As for
myself, I may entertain the hope that all the cala-
mities of my life are past. Heaven, you see, is
just!"

Miss Dakin rose up from her suppliant posture :
but some minutes elapsed before she could in any
way tranquillize herself. She besought my for-
giveness for her vile wicked conduct of a past
period ; and I assured her that she was forgiven.
I then thrust a bank-note into her hand, and bade
her take her departure. She dried her tears ; and
with renewed expressions of gratitude as well as
of contrition, she went away. I never saw her
afterwards, nor heard of her again.

A few days subsequent to this incident a card
was one afternoon placed in my hand : and I read
the name of Sir Alexander Carrondale. I flew to
the drawing-room to which Sir Alexander had
been shown ; and I found that his wife was with
him. Delighted were they both to see me : de-
lighted was I also to see them. I had previously
received letters from them congratulating me on
my change of position ; and now they verbally re-
newed those congratulations. I inquired after Mr.
Duncansby, and learnt that he was expected in
London in a few days. Next I inquired after the
Chief of Inch Methglin, — when Sir Alexander re-
plied, " The Chief and Lennox are already in Lon-
don : they arrived with us yesterday. They only
await your permission, my dear Lord Eccleston, to
pay their respects to you."

" Nay," I responded, " it is for me to go and
call upon the Chief first--aDd this I will do with*

out delay. I will engage him and his son to dine
with me to-morrow. You and her ladyship must
be of the party : my mother the Countes will be
delighted to receive you. We have several friends
staying with us ; and I need hardly say that Sir
Alexander and Lady Carrondale will not be the
least honoured amongst them."

The invitation was accepted ; and before the Baro-
net and his wife took their departure on the present
occasion, I introduced them to my mother. Then^
ere I set out to the hotel where the Chief of Inch
Methglin and Mr. Lennox Yennachar were staying,
I penned a note of invitation to leave for them in
case they should not be at home. Nor were they:
I therefore left my card and the note, and returned
to Manchester Square. As I was alighting from
the carriage, whom should I behold with his hand
upon the knocker but Dominie Clackmannan. I
greeted him warmly ; and from amidst the mass
of stolidities to which he began giving utterance,
I gathered the intelligence that his wife, the late
Widow Glenbucket — now Mrs. Clackmannan of
Clackmannanauchnish — was passing a few weeks
with some friends in a midland county : so that
the Dominie had resolved to come on to London,
to see Saltcoats and myself. I bade him make my
house his home, and at once sent a domestic to fetch
the Dominie's carpet-bag from the hotel where he
had left it. The Dominie accordingly became an-
other amongst the guests assembled at this time at
Eccleston House. His meeting with Saltcoats was
perfectly characteristic : for although they had
known each other for years — and, as the reader has
perceived, had been bosom-friends — yet did Mr.
Clackmannan mistake him flrst of all for the
Baillie Owlhead — next greet ihm as the Laird of
Tintosquashdale — and then, on eventually being
convinced it was he, Saltcoats himself, the Dominie
began wondering whether it were ten or twenty
years since last they met. To the guests generally
the worthy old gentleman was an object of much
amusement : but for my sake, as well as on ac-
count of his own good nature, he experienced the
utmost kindness.

On the following day, punctual to the hour
named in my note, the Chief of Inch Methglin
and his son Mr. Lennox Yennachar arrived at
the mansion. Though nearly four years had
passed since I last saw the Chief, the lapse of time
appeared not to have made the slightest alteration
in his aspect. He was now in his sixty-fourth
year : but his form was perfectly upright, — that
fine tall form which had so much dignity in its car-
riage ! His complexion was as florid as ever — his
teeth as well preserved : his dark eyes had not lost
their brightness. How well did I remember that
haughtily handsome profile, and that look in which
the pride of birth would have amounted to arro-
gance, were it not attempered by the feelings of
the polished gentleman. Lennox was now about
twenty-seven years of age j and setting aside the
disparity of years, as well as the greyness of the
hair on the part of the Chief, he was the exact
likeness of his father.

"lam glad to have the honour of paying my
personal respects to the Earl of Eccleston," said
the Chief, advancing towards me, and courteously
profiering his hand. " Your lordship bears a very
old and honourable title, and one to which you
yourself do honour."

382

JOSEPH WILMOT; OB, THE MEMOIRS OB A MAN-SERVANT.

This was a very great compliment for the Chief
of Inch Methglin to paj ; and I felt that he in-
tended to hint, after his own well-meaning fashion,
that whatsoever I might have once been was lost
sight of and absorbed in the rank which I now
bore. Lennox was also exceedingly courteous, and
grasped my hand with a generous cordiality which
I felt to be sincere. I presented these guests to
my mother ; and as she herself had visited Scot-
land, she was enabled to converse with the Chief
and his son on the wild beauties of the northern
country. The Dominie however speedily pressed
forward to pay his respects to Inch Methglin and
Lennox, while I advanced to meet Sir Alexander
and LaJy Carrondale who were just now being an-
nounced.

When dinner was served up, and we had all
repaired to the banqueting-room, it chanced that
the Dominie sate next to the Chief of Inch Meth-
glin. From the opposite side of the table Mr,
Saltcoats gave the Chief to understand that Mr.
Clackmannan had committed matrimony, and that
he had married a certain widow Glenbucket,of whom
be had been always talking. For an instant Mr.
Vennachar drew himself up somewhat haughtily at
this intelligence : but the next instant he unbent
again; and with smiling condescension expressed
a hope that he should some day have the pleasure
of being introduced to Mrs. Clackmannan of Clack-
mannauauchnish.

"It's just that," said the Dominie. "I was
thinking of paying a visit to Inch Methglin when
we go back to Scotland. But dear me ! I forgot !
We must be in Scotland now; for assuredly that

is a dish of collops in front of Saltcoats • and I

remember this morning there was a dish of Finnan
haddocks on the breakfast-table."

"Nonsense, Dominie!" exclaimed Saltcoats:
"you are at our friend liord Eccleston's; and
there is Sir Matthew Heseltine challenging you to
a glass of wine."

"It's just that," said the Dominie, as he handed
his glass to the footman to be filled with cham-
pagne. "I remember being challenged to fight
when I was a schoolboy at Dr. Drumthwacket's :
but it's much more agreeable to be challenged to
take wine. And now I bethink me, Inch Meth-
glin," continued the Dominie, when he had bowed
to Sir Matthew, " I hope you have made that
little improvement which I several times sug-
gested "

"Improvement, Mr. Clackmannan?'* inter-
rupted the Chief, drawing himself up somewhat
haughtily. " If you mean an improvement at
Inch Methglin, you must decidedly be wrong : for
neither in the house nor in the grounds is there
the slightest need for an improvement of any
kind."

"It's just there that you are mistaken, Inch
Methglin," responded the Dominie, who had now
been taking a glass of wine with another guest —
and this time it was the Count of Livorno.
" There's that loch of your's in a very unfinished

state or at least it must be the loch — it can't

be the sea itself : for what I mean is a bridge to

span it "

"A bridge across my loch!" exclaimed the

coming from any other man, I should take it as an
insult."

"It's just that. Inch Methglin," said the Domi-
nie, with the most imperturbable gravity : " you

would be perfectly right and if you were to

knock him down, it would be of no great conse-
quence— because— because — he would pick himself
up again, you know. And this puts me in mind
of what I one day said to young Stephen Owlhead

when he nearly ran over me in the tax-cart It

must have been a tascar( --it' couldn't have been

a locomotive, because it wasn't on a railway "

" Come, Mr. Clackmannan of Clackmannan,
auchnish," said the Chief, again recovering his
good humour; "let us take a glass of wine to-
gether."

" It's just that," said the Dominie. " But about
that bridge. Inch Methglin — we must discuss the
bridge business. If you had had a bridge it would
have saved me from tumbling into the water that
day when I was reading a tremendous long letter
from the Laird of Tintosquashdale. Yes, it must
have been from the Laird — it couldn't have been a
letter I had written to myself; because it would
be foolish to correspond with one- self and go to
the expense of paying the postage. But about
that bridge. Inch Methglin?"

I saw that the Chief did not admire this per-
petual recurrence to a scheme which he regarded
as one calculated to efi^ect a most unheard-of inno-
vation upon the grand beauty of his Highland
home; and therefore I interfered by giving the
conversation some turn. Matters then passed off
pleasantly enough ; the Dominie forgot all about
the bridge— and the Chief of Inch Methglin seemed
likewise to forget that his temper had been for a
moment ruffled by the introduction of such a topic.
It was midnight ; and the party had broken up.
Those of the guests who lived elsewhere, had taken
their departure : those who were visitors at the
house had retired to their chambers. My mother
had likewise withdrawn ; and I was lingering in
the drawing-room for a few minutes, — thinking of '
my Annabel, and how exquisitely beautiful she
had looked on this particular evening — more ravish-
ingly beautiful, methought, if possible, than ever,
— when I heard a ring at the front door bell. A
few moments afterwards one of the footmen came
up to inform me that a woman wished to speak to
me.

" At this time of night ?" I exclaimed in aston-
ishment. " Who can it possibly be ?"

" I do not know, my lord," answered the foot-
man : and then, after a little hesitation, he added,
" She seems a dreadful low woman, my lord — and a
little the worse for liquor. But she says she must
see your lordship on very important business."

I accordingly made up my mind to descend and
ascertain who she was. On reaching the hall, I
was shocked by the horrid-looking appearance of
the woman who thus asked for me. She was past
sixty years of age, with grey hair hanging loose
and in disorder from beneath a very dirty cap with
a large frill, and an old battered straw bonnet.
Her countenance was of a flaming red ; and she
smelt most disgustingly of liquor. Her whole ap-
pearance indicated mingled poverty and dissipation.
Chief, laying down his knife and fork, and eyeing I Indeed, she was a loathsome creature ; and yet at
the Dominie with the most disdainful scorn. "It I the very first instant I set eyes upon her, me-
is totally impossible you can be serious: for if I thought that I had seen her countenance before.

JOSEPH WILMOT; OB THE MEMOIBa OV A MAN-SERVANT.

383

"Who are you? and what do you want with
me ?" I inquired.

" Are you Lord Ecelestoa ?" she asked, eyeing
me with a tipsy vacancy.

" I am. Vf liat do you require ?" — and gra-
dually, as a moonbeam struggles through a cloud,
did a glimmering of light steal in unto my mind
relative to this loathsome, shocking-looking hag.
Yes— I had indeed seen her before: she was the
woman who kept the house in that low court on
SafTrou Hill where I had dwelt with Taddy on my
first arrival in London, — the same woman who had
seized the little furniture and turned us out of
doors — which proceeding on her part had led to
those wanderings of our's that had thrown me in
the way of Mr. Delmar.

" What do I want with your lordship ?" said
the woman, who evidently did not recognise me to
be the same whom a few years back she had known
as a poor miserable boy. "I want you to come
along with me. There's a person dying at my
Louse which wants to see you."

"A person dying ?" I exclaimed, shuddering at
the thought of any human being taking leave of
this world in such a den. " Who is this person ?"
— for by the way in which the woman spoke, I
could not tell whether she alluded to one of the
male or the female sex.

" If ever do jou mind, my lord — but come along
with me," she responded. " The poor man hasn't
very long to live — a matter of an hour or two per-
haps ; and I promised to be sure and fetch your
lordship, for he seems to have something very
heavy on his conscience."

" But who is he ?" I demanded — though I was
instantaneously smitten with a presentiment of
who the individual would prove to be.

"Well, I don't mean to say, my lord," she re-
plied, doggedly. " You can come if you like— or
you can leave it alone. It's no business of mine.
I've done my duty."

" Stop ! I will go with you," I said. " Depart
— and wait for me at a little distance in the
Square."

There were none of the servants in the Knll
when this colloquy took place : I had beckoned the
footman to retire immediately on descending from
the drawing-room. The woman went forth; and
I, hastening up to my own chamber, secured a
pair of pistols about my person ; for the thought
struck me that it was just possible treachery might
be intended ; though on the otlier hand I could
scarcely rmagine that such was the case. Having
bidden the hall -porter sit up for me, I issued
from the mansion.

It was a beautiful night in the month of May ;
and the stars were shining brightly. I speedily
rejoined tlie old woman ; and putting a sovereign
in her hand, I said, " Tell me precisely where it
is that you live — and I will speedily be there.
You can take a cab — get back with the least pos-
sible delay — and tell the dying person, whoever he
may be, that I am coming."

" I suppose your lordship is afraid," said the
old woman, with a sneer, though her eyes had
glistened on taking the money ; " and so you are
going to put the polico on the scent. Well, you
may do it if you choose : but I can tell you, my
lord, that there is no reason — for I'm sure I don't
want to hurt you; and as for that poor unfortunate

man Howsomever, your lordship can do as you

like."

I did not choose to tell the hag that I was not
going to take any such precaution as that to which
she had just alluded: I thought there was no
harm in leaving her to the contrary belief. I
accordingly hastened away — having learnt from
her the address of her abode, which I found to be
precisely the same as that where I had dwelt with
Taddy. It bore, as the reader will recollect, the
hideous, loathsome denomination of Eagamuflia
Court, SafTrou Hill. I entered the first cab that I
found plying for a fare ; and I bade the driver
take me up to the end of Hatton Garden. There
I alighted ; and dismissing the cab, bent my steps
towards the wretched abode which was my desti-
nation. Oh ! how well I recollected with what
feelings I had accompanied the man Taddy thither
on that night when he rescued me from starvation
in the streets. How often with an aching heart
and sensations of hideous loathing, had I walked
by his side in that neighbourhood when we went
forth to distribute at the low lodging-houses and
beer-shops, the circulars which he had made me
pen. And then, too, with what forlorn and deso-
late feelings had I threaded that neighbourheod
when we were ejected at the time as houseless
wanderers from the miserable abode which we
were even too poor to keep. And now how altered
was my position ! what wealth had I at my com-
mand ! what a host of friends to bless me with
their affjction ! what brilliant hopes for the future !
And I thought, too, that there was now scarcely a
day which passed without developing some inci-
dent to remind me of bygone occurrences, and
force upon my contemplation the contrast of what
I once had been and what I now was !

I pursued my way : I entered the court : my
pistols were ready for use in case of need — but I had
scarcely any apprehension lingering in my mmd
that they would be required. I had purposely
walked slow after alighting from the cab, in order
that the woman might have leisure to get home
before me. And such proved to be the case : for
on knocking at the door, it was speedily opened by
the harridan herself.

There was a noisome fetid odour in the house :
the candle which she carried, showed me that it
was dirty and poverty-stricken. She was poor
when I had lodged with Taddy there: she was now
evidently poorer still. The wretch had gone down
in the world, — doubtless from her dissipated,
drunken habits. She gave a sort of smile of satis-
faction on beholding me : she closed the door — and
began leading tlie way up the narrow dirty stair-
case. She paused for a few moments at the door
of a back room on the second storey ; and as we
heard low moanings coming from within, she
whispered to me, "Ah! how the poor man
suffers !"

" Is ho not attended by a surgeon ?" I asked,
also in a low whisper.

"Yes: but it's of no use. The doctor said
when he came at ten o'clock to-night, that he

couldn't live many hours longer "

'■' Come, let us enter !" I interrupted her : and
I could scarcely prevent myself from recoiling per-
ceptibly from the loathsome pestiferousness of her
gin-poisoned breath.

She opened the door : and by the rays of a feeble

384

JOSEVH WILMOT ; OH, THE MEMOIEB OF A MAN-SEBVANT.

light which glimmered ia the wretched chamber, I
beheld — stretched upon a miserable pallet — the
very individual whom my presentiment had told
me that 1 should see for it was Lanover !

CHAPTEE CLVII.

A DEATH BED.

In the wretched Poverty-stricken chamber, faintly
and dimly burnt the light : but yet its beams were
sufficient to enable me to embrace with a glance
the misery and destitution which characterized the
place, — the scant articles of furniture, the dirty
carpetless floor, the blackened walls, and the broken
panes with rags thrust through to keep out the
night air. Sufficient likewise were those beams —
and in their sickliness appropriately suited likewise
— to show the haggard, ghastly, wan, and death-
stricken countenance of him who in his time had
been one of my bitterest enemies.

Yes — it was indeed Lanover, — Lanover who lay
upon the verge of that gulf which separates mor-
tality from eternity — that dark abysm, unfathom-
able to human eyes, which divides things terrestrial
from things celestial — that mighty ocean, formed of
the waters of oblivion, over which the soul when
loosened from its earthly tenement is wafted from
the known shore that lies on this side to that un-
known shore which lies beyoitd !

I made a sign for the woman to retire : I closed
the door; and I approached the couch. How can
I describe the look with which Lanover gazed up
towards me ? It was no longer one of fiend-like
malignity, nor of diabolic hate : no, nor of hypo-
crisy and dissimulation : it was one of contrition,
deprecation, and appeal. There is a light in which
all the sharp jutting ridges and all the deep-shaded
chasms, all the asperities and the harshnesses, of a
rude and savage mountain-region may look less
terrible, less repelling, than on former occasions
they seemed to the eye which is familiar to the
scene:— and so it was with Lanover's features
now. Over all the rigid lines — over all the marks
which the world's fiercest passions had traced —
over that countenance where the influence of
the worst and darkest feelings had passed as if
with a searing-iron, — there was the purer and
holier light which true penitence can shed even
upon the most ill-favoured and repulsive of the
human lineaments. I knew that 1 was standing
by the couch of a, murderer, — by the couch of
a man to whom crime had for years and yeara
been familiar : but amidst the awe which filled
my soul, there was blended a certain sympathy
which I irresistibly felt. For I could not help
remembering that for years had Annabel and her
mother known no other protector than this man^
and that however brutal his demeanour, however
tyrannical his conduct, he had at least given them
bread. And then, too, I was moved at the spec-
tacle of how the hard flinty rock was at length
smitten, and how the living waters of hope were
gushing forth : for the tears were streaming from
the eyes of the dying wretch. He sobbed con-
vulsively ; and ere a word of any other kind passed
from my lips, or from his, I sank down upon my
knees and began praying audibly. He joined me

in that prayer ; his voice that was wont to be so
harsh and jarring, was toned down by illness,
suffering, and feebleness, to comparative mildness
and meekness, — typical, I felt convinced, of the
state of his own heart !

For several minutes we thus prayed together ;
and then slowly rising from my knees, I sate down
upon a wretched broken chair by the side of his
pallet. Lanover raised himself somewhat up on
the bolster — in such a manner that while his elbow
rested thereon, his hand supportel his head; and
looking at me with his hollow eyes, he asked,
" Can you forgive me ?"

" Tou have besought forgiveness of your God,"
I responded ; " and you entertain the hope that
He will pardon you. It is not therefore from mo
that you must vainly ask for forgiveness. Tes,
Mr. Lanover — I forgive you ! from the bottom of
my soul do I forgive you !"

The tears gushed forth afresh from the dying
sinner's eyes : for an instant he made a motion as
if he would have taken my hand ; but then, as if
inspired by a second thought, he held back his own.

" Here is my hand, Mr. Lanover," I said, " as a
proof that I forgive you."

He took it — and again he sobbed. I also was
deeply affected : but still I was unconscious that
the tears were triekling down my cheeks, until
made aware thereof by something which Lanover
now said.

" Tou weep for me, my lord ! — you weep for
me, Joseph I" he murmuringly faltered: "and
wretch though I am, I love you at this instant as
much as even in my vilest moments I have hated
you ! But do you — do you know the full extent
of my iniquities ?" he shudderingly asked.

" I know all, Mr. Lanover ! " I answered
solemnly. " My unhappy father on his death-bed
revealed everything — yes, evei'ifthing P' I added
emphatically, in order to give him to understand
that even that^darkest crime which was evidently
uppermost in his harrowed, tortured conscience,
had been conveyed to my knowledge.

" And yet you can forgive me f " he said, in a
scarcely audible voice : " you can forgive me—
although, as you now look upon me, you know
that it is the gaze of a murderer which you
meet!"

" Speak not in a manner which may aggravate
the agonies of this death-bed, Mr. Lanover," I
said. " It is enough that the deeds themselves
produce a sufficient impression upon your mind, to
inspire you with a sense of all that you owe to
heaven, to the world, and unto yourself, in the
lorm of contrition."

" Yes, believe me— Oh ! believe me," exclaimed
the wretched man, " I am indeed contrite ! Would
to heaven that I could recall the Past ! I should
not then experience so awful a Present — nor
tremble so terribly at the Future ! It is a solace —
Ob, you know not how great a solace, to receive
the assurance of forgiveness from your lips. For
a long time past, Joseph, I have been an altered
man. That terrible process through the medium
of which I escaped from the prison in Florence,
left a frightful impression upon my mind. I had
passed through the very grave itself : I had looked
Death as it were face to face ! I have shuddered
ever since at the thought that all that was then
transient, must sooner or later become permanent,

JOSEPH WILMOT; OB, THE MEMOIE3 OF A MAK-SEfiVANT.

3Sc

with a more hideous, awful reality ! It was not so
much physical suCFering as mental horror which
prostrated me ou that bed of sickness on which
you found rae at Milan. Yet even then my mind
was not completely moved : it was however deeply
touched— and the change has since taken place.
But it was chiefly when I some months afterwards
heard of your father's death, occasioned by so
fearful an accident, that the conviction struck mo
awfully, appallingly, stupendously, that circum-
stances were changing — that right was coming
uppermost— and that the day of heaven's retribu-
tion was arriving for the wrong-doers!"

Mr. Lanover stopped and sank back upon the
bolster, in such a state of exhaustion that I
thought the vital spirit was on the point of flitting
away to the realms of eternity. I gave him water
to drink : I was hastening to the door, too, to bid
the woman speed and fetch the surgeon,— when,
divining my intention he called me back.
lOl

" "No — I am past all medical aid," he faintly
murmured, and speaking with a visible effort.
" It is useless for you to summon such assistance

1 beseech you to remain here with me for a

few minutes longer — and let us continue thus
alone ! I have not much more to say : but still
there are a few explanations I would yet give

there is a boon likewise that I would

ask "

Lanover's voice grew stronger as he thus spoke ;
and again did he raise himself up in the couch to
that posture by which he was enabled to support
his head upon his hand. He then discoursed upon
the past ; and he mentioned many little details
which have enabled me to give greater complete-
ness to the particulars of that recent chapter by
which the gap in my narrative was filled up.
Thus, for instance, he explained his object in
taking Annabel to Exeter, on that occasion when
I saw her there at the door of Dobbins the hab^r-

386

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OK, THE MEMOIES OE A MAN-SEKVANT.

dasher's sbop. The explanations he thus gave me,
on this and other points, were mingled with sin-
cereljj expressed regrets for his misdeeds — those
that were intended, as well as those which were
actually perpetrated. He asked me respecting
Annabel and her mother ; and I told him that in
a few months Annabel was to accompany me to
the altar.

" Were I a man," ho said, " who dared give
issue to a blessing from hia lips, I would bless you
both ! But believe me— Oh ! believe me when I
declare that you have my heartfelt wishes for your
happiness. And that ye will be happy, I have no
doubt ! — for after a life of intrigue, machination,
plot, and crime, my experiences have brought me
to this result — that I am impressed with the con-
viction of God's justice, recompensive and retribu-
tive ; and that even in this world there may be
foretastes alike of heaven and of hell."

There was another long pause: it seemed to me
that Lanover's countenance was growing ghastlier,
and that the heralding symptoms of death's ap-
proach were becoming more and more visible : bat
with another effort be prepared himself to speak.

" It is upwards of six months since your father
died," he continued ; " and during that interval I
have dwelt in this wretched den. The direst
poverty overtook me : but I made not an effort to
emancipate myself from it. I appealed to no one
for succour : I accepted it as a chastisement in-
flicted by heaven;— and in enduring it, mcthought
I was making at least some little atonement for
the past. I have parted with my garments to
procure food : the mercenary wretch who brought
you hither, would Lave sent me to the workhouse
or the hospital, had I not given her the assurance
that you in your generosity would liquidate what-
soever I may owe her. And now, as for the boon
which I have to ask— if indeed I dare ask a boon
at your lordship's hands "

" Yes— Oh, yes !" I exclaimed. " What is there
I can do to serve you ?"

" It is that I may not have a pauper's grave,"
replied Lanover. " There will be no mourners for

me this I know full well : but let my grave be

dug in some suburban cametery, that the grass
may grow green above it. This may appear a

weakness — a foolish phantasy call it what you

will : it is nevertheless an evidence of that change
of mind which I have experienced !"

" All you have asked of me shall be fulfilled," I
responded. " Is there aught else which I can do
for you ?"

" Nothing, nothing, my lord," rejoined Lanover,
again weeping. " Your conduct towards me — the
forgiveness you have vouchsafed — the assurances
you have just made me, — all, all have touched me
deeply. It is strange, this balm which you have
infused into my soul ! Oh, would that I dared
bless you ! But God himself has blessed you ; and
in my penitence I shall die with the consciousness
that you are surrounded with all the elements of
prosperity. And now leave me."

" No— I shall not leave you, Mr. Lanover," I
answered : " we will again pray together. It is
my duty as a Christian to behave thus towards you

ray duty likewise to smooth the dying pillow

of a penitent fellow-creature."

I knelt therefore and prayed ; and Lanover's
voice joined audibly with my own. Suddenly he

broke forth into the most piteous lamentations, —
declaring his conviction how impossible it was that
he could be forgiven — that God, with all his mercy,
could not pardon so deeply-stained a criminal
as he— that hell was yawning for him— and that
close behind advancing Death, approached the
awful form of Satan likewise. I said all that I
deemed fitting in such circumstances— all that I
cur'sidered suitable to be urged upon the mind of
the dying man. He grew consoled — he was
strengthened with hope once again. In this better
frame of mind I kept him, — until at about three
o'clock in the morning, when the light was flicker-
ing in its socket, and the grey dawn was peeping
through the window, the spirit of Lanover fled for
ever.

All was thus over. I had cheered and comforted
the last moments of him who for years past had
been my mortal enemy. Issuing from the chamber
of death, I descended the stairs, and found the
woman of the house seated with a female lodger in
a room on the ground-floor. They had not as yet
retired to rest : they were waiting until I should
take my departure. I told her that Lanover was
dead ; and I left a sum of money which must have
far more than acquitted any liability due from the
deceased. I also intimated that the obsequies
would be conducted by some one whom I should
charge to undertake them ; and I issued from the
house. Slowly and thoughtfully did I wend my
way on foot towards Hatton Garden ; and as I was
proceeding thither I passed a shop, whence, from
within the closed shutters, came the sounds of
hammers. It was an undertaker's. I knocked :
the door was opened — and I asked to see the
master of the establifhment. He was at work in-
side ; for it appeared, from something which was
said to me, that three or four recent deaths had
rendered him thus unusually busy, and had com-
pelled him and his men to rise betimes on this
particular morning. My business was speedily
explained : I entrusted the undertaker with all the
details of the funeral ; and as I placed a liberal
sum at his disposal, he asked no questions as to
who I myself might be. I thence proceeded into
Holborn,- where I soon found a cab which con-
veyed me home.

Neither my mother nor any of the guests stay-
ing at the house knew that I had thus been for
hours absent : but after breakfast I took an oppor.
tunity of being alone with my mother, in order to
acquaint her with what had taken place. In
the course of that day, too, I narrated the same
facts to the Count of Livorno, — he being already
aware of so much of my former history and of
how large a part Lanover had played therein. It
was not however until after the funeral, — until
after the remains of the deceased had been con-
signed to a grave in a suburban cemetery, — that I
mentioned his death and its circumstances to Sir
Matthew Heseltine, Mrs. Lanover, and Annabel.
Sir Matthew was now determined to execute a de-
sign which he had for some time past formed ; and
this was that his daughter should thenceforth re-
nounce the name of Lanover and resume that of
her first husband — namely, Bentinck. Mr. Ten-
nant, his solicitor, received the requisite instruc-
tions : some pretext in respect to property was
alleged ; and by payment of the usual fees, the
Eoyal permission was obtained for Mrs. Lanover

JOSEPH W1T>M0T; OE, THE MEMOIEg OF A MAN- SKBVAITT.

387

from that time forth to bear the name of Ben-
tinck.

"Weeks went by ; and the friends who had as-
sembled in London, separated to return to their
respective abodes. The Count and Countess of
Livorno were to accompany the Count and
Countess of Monte d'Oro and Signor Portici, as
well as the Count and Countess of Avellino, as far
as Marseilles — from which port the three families
would take the vessels bound for their respective
destinations. We parted, with mutually inter-
changed assurances that we would all avail our-
selves of opportunities at no very remote period to
meet again. Dominie Clackmannan and Mr. Salt-
coats went off together, to take up the former's
wife on their way back to Edinburgh — where they
proposed to settle down for the present. The
Chief of Inch Methglin and Lennox accompanied
Sir Alexander and Lady Carrondale on their
journey northward — the Vennachars having agreed
to pass a few months with the Baronet and his
wife at Carrondale Castle. And now, too, Sir
Matthew Heseltine decided upon returning with
the ladies into Westmoreland, in order that pre-
parations might be made for the nuptials of An-
nabel and myself — which, according to agreement,
were to be celebrated at Heseltine Hall. As only
three or four months were now to elapse previous
to that happy day, the separation was not a very
painful one— and all the less so, inasmuch as Sir
Matthew himself reminded me that I could come
down into Westmoreland in the interval and pass
a week or two at the Hall.

Eccleston House was now comparatively quiet
once more ; and I devoted myself to the most
sedulous attentions towards my mother ; for her
health was failing — slowly, it is true, but percep-
tibly to my eyes. One day — when she had in-
sisted that I should go out and take some exercise
—I was riding on horseback through the Park ;
and I encountered Captain Raymond. He also
was on horseback : he instantly reined in his steed
and saluted me with mingled courtesy and respect.
He was kind to me when in his service ; and,
as the reader will recollect, he had behaved gene-
rously on the occasion when I set off on my expe-
dition into the Apennines to effect the liberation
of Sir Matthew Heseltine and his family. I was
therefore now glad of an opportunity of displaying
civility towards this gentleman. We rode toge-
ther ; and I invited him to the bouse. I learnt
that he had recently married — having triumphed
over his love for Olivia, the Countess of Livorno.
It was a daughter of a good family whom Captain
Raymond had led to the altar ; and he had ob-
tained a considerable fortune with her. A few
days afterwards I called upon Captain and Mrs.
Raymond J and from that time forth they became
numbered among the circle of my friends.

There is another little incident which I will
mention in this place. I was one day walking
down Regent Street, when I happened to observe
the name of " Linto:t, Wine-mercliant," over a
very handsomely hnud-up shop. At that very in-
stant an ejaculation of joy fell upon my ears ; and
Charles Linton himself issued forth. Obedient to
the first impulse of friendly feeling, he seized my
hand and wrung it with cordial warmth : then sud-
denly recollecting the great social difference there
was between us, he shrank back somewhat abashed.

"My good friend," I exclaiaied, "you wrong me
by thus through your own conduct imputing an
undue pridts to one who really possesses it

not •"

" Ah ! this is so like you," exclaimed Charles
Linton, much moved by the manner in which I
had just spoken to him. "You are fit to be what
you are ! — and yet I can only think of you
But here I am growing familiar again !"

" You can only think of me as in former times
you knew me," I interrupted him; "and this ia
precisely how I wish you to regard me. Come !
to prove that it is so, I will ask after my old friend
Charlotte."

" Would your lordship walk in ?" said Linton,
again assuming an air of profoundest respect.

" Yes," I answered, " if you dispense with
all ceremony and endeavour to make me feel at
home."

Linton now looked pleased again ; and he con-
ducted me through a warehouse amply stored with
wine, to a side door opening into a passage —
thence up a carpeted staircase, to a handsomely
furnished room, where his wife was seated.

" Good heavens !" she exclaimed, on imme-
diately recognising me ; " is it your lordship who

has honoured us "

" Nonsense, my dear Mrs. Linton !" I responded,
shaking her cordially by the hand : " there is no
honour in the matter— but a great deal of plea-
sure, at least on my side, thus to encounter old
friends."

" Oh, pleasure indeed !" cried Charlotte, her
handsome countenance being animated with the
most lively joy : and then, as she glanced around,
to assure herself that everything was neat and
tidy in the room, she perceived that one leaf of
the partition folding-doors was standing half
open.

" Ah ! you are about to sit down to dinner," I
said, as I caught a glimpse of the table that was
laid in the room with which the larger apartment
communicated by means of those double doors.
" Now, that is exactly what I want. I am exceed-
ingly hungry ; and I intend to dine with you.
Remember ! when we met at Reading about three
years ago, you gave me a general invitation."

" Ah ! if your lordship would condescend to par-
take of our humble fare," said Charlotte, looking
half pleased and half embarrassed, " how happy
should we be !"

" My dear friends," I replied, " I not only in-
tend to partake of your fare, but also to do justice
to it. Ah! here is a fine little fellow:" — and as a
chubby-faced boy of about two years old came
toddling into the room, I hastened forward,
caught him up, and kissed him on each rosy
cheek.

" Dear me !" cried Mrs. Linton, blushing ; " to
think that Charley should be such a figure !"

" Such a figure ?" I exclaimed : " why, you must
have the best of nursemaids, as the boy's appear-
ance indicates. See ! he is not frightened at me
— the rogue laughs!"— and I now fondled him on
my knee.

Almost immediately afterwards I heard a ser-
vant enter the back room and place dishes upon
the table. Mrs. Linton glided into that dining-
room, no doubt to see that all was right ; and her
husband, begging me to excuse him for a few

SS8

JOSEPH •WTLMOT; oh, THE MEMOIRS OV A MAN-SEBVANT.

minutes, left the sitting-room^I knew very well
for what purpose. It was that he might descend
to his warehouse and fetch up some of his choicest
wine ; and I did not attempt to keep him back : I
was resolved that these worthy people should have
the pleasure of entertaining me ; for I knew that
it would be a pleasure. The little boy remained
with me quietly enough until his parents re-
turned ; and I saw that they were both infinitely
delighted at the notice I took of him. How easy
it is in this world to gratify the feelings of our
fellow-creatures if we would but seize upon the
opportunities and adopt the right course ! A
caress and a kind word bestowed upon a child, are
more flattering to the hearts of its doting parents
than the costliest gifts presented to themselves
could possibly prove; — and this is but one illustra-
tion of those thousand nameless little attentions
which, if more constantly practised, would give a
marvellous impulse to the sincerity of good fellow-
ship, and scatter abroad myriads of those amenities
which, taking root in the proper soil, prove the
good seed in the parable, and bring forth fruit to
perfection.

Dinner was announced by a neatly dressed
servant-maid ; and Mrs. Linton said, " I hope
your lordship will be enabled to make at least a
luncheon of the meal : for I know that three
o'clock is much too early an hour for one who no
doubt habitually dines at six or seven."

" But you forget, my dear Mrs. Linton," I an-
swered, " that for the greater portion of my life I
have dined at one o'clock — and not always in a
parlour either. Come, let us sit down— for I can
assure you I am prepared to do justice to your
good fare."

The fact is, I bad taken luncheon at one o'clock,
and bad not the least appetite : but when we sat
down to table, I suffered Charles Linton to give
me a plate with several slices of sirloin, and his
good-hearted wife to heap it up with Yorkshire
pudding; and then I addressed myself to the
despatch of these viands with every appearance of
a keen appetite. Linton produced some excellent
champagne ; and by my manner I succeeded in
inducing himself and his wife to throw off every-
thing that savoured of formal constraint.

"And now tell me," I said, when the cloth was
removed and a copious dessert was placed upon
the table, "how you came to leave B-eading;
though I can easily understand that the removal
was a good one — for I need not ask how you are
getting on in London."

" Business prospered with us very well in Bead-
ing," answered Linton ; " for my customers in the
wine-trade increased "

"And I plied my needle as a dressmaker to
considerable advantage," interjected Charlotte.

" True enough !" exclaimed Linton, who was a
fond and affectionate husband, without being too
sentimentally uxorious : " but you should have
left me, my dear, to sing your praises," he added,
laughing good-humouredly, — " which I was about
to do to a very pretty tune."

" Then I suppose," I said, " that by your united
industry "

"Oh! our industry was great enough," said
Linton : " but still by itself alone it would not
have raised us to such a position as this in so short
u t;me. The fact is, a somewhat singular coin-

cidence occurred. A brother of mine — who wtii
much better off in the world than I, and who was
a bachelor — died suddenly; and I inherited bis
property. Then pretty nearly at the same time,
an aunt of Charlotte's died, — leaving her five hun-
dred pounds ; and thus all of a sudden we had a
pretty little windfall of upwards of a thousand.
We thought it very likely that if we removed to
London, we might obtain some customers amongst
the good families in which we bad both lived as
servants ; and this, my lord, was the origin of the
present establishment. We have been here
eighteen months : our hopes have not been disap-
pointed— and, thank God! everything prospers
with us!"

" Yes, my lord," interjected Charlotte, with a
fondly coy glance and smile at her husband : " but
Charles did one very naughty thing, for which I
hope you will scold him. On our removal to Lon-
don he insisted I should give up the millinery
business : he said he would not have me work my
eyes out "

"And this you call naughty?" I exclaimed,
laughing. " I think I understand my friend Lin-
ton's reasons well enough. You were in a position
which rendered it unnecessary for you to have the
cares of a double business ; and you, my dear
Mrs. Linton, with your household duties have
enough to occupy you."

" Exactly so, my lord," exclaimed Linton. "And
besides, we have a little family " -

" What ! are there any more ?" I asked, look-
ing towards the rosy-cheeked child, who, on my
intercession, had been allowed to remain in the
dining-room, where he was now playing about.

" Yes — there's a baby," replied Linton, while
Charlotte smiled and blushed.

" Then let me see the baby," I exclaimed : and
then Mrs. Linton hastened with a mother's pride
to fulfil my request.

The nurse-maid was summoned — the baby was
exhibited — and a very fine one it was. I remained
until close upon seven o'clock with the happy
couple ; and on taking leave of them, I requested
Linton to give me a few of his cards. Three or
four days afterwards I sent him an order for a
considerable quantity of wine, with an intimation
that my butler had received instructions to deal
entirely with him thenceforth. I despatched one
of the cards to Sir Matthew Heseltine, with a note
explaining wherefore I was interested in Charles
Linton ; and the worthy Baronet likewise sent a
large order. As I shall not again have reason to
mention the Lintons in my narrative, I will here
observe that they continue to enjoy a great and
still increasing prosperity — that wealth is pouring
in upon them — but that the possession of riches in
no way changes the excellence of their hearts ; and
that their marriage has proved one of the happiest
of all the matrimonial alliances that have ever
come within the range of my knowledge.

Weeks and months passed on : November ar-
rived—and it was now a year since the death of
my father. The time for my own nuptials had
come ; and these were to be celebrated at Hesel-
tine Hall. My mother accompanied me into
Westmoreland, — as did also Mr. and Mrs. Howard
of Delmar Manor, and two of my cousins — the
Hon. Misses Mulgrave. These young ladies were
to act as bridesmaids to Annabel : but there were

JOSEPH ■WILMOT; OB THB MEMOIRS OE A MAN-SERVANT.

389

likewise to be two others — young ladies belonging
to t'ae first families in Westmoreland. The reader
perhaps will not expect that I shall enter into
many details relative to the wedding : but yet his
curiosity may be gratified by the assurance that
all the arrangements at Heseltine Hall were of
the most splendid description. And on the bridal
morning, what happiness filled my heart ! It is
true that I had not very many years to look back
upon : but siill, in flinging my retrospective glance
through the vista of those past periods of my yet
youthful life, I could not help thinking that heaven
was indeed now blessing me and rewarding me
most munificently for whatsoever suffering and
calamities I had endured. And Annabel — how
exquisitely beautiful did she appear in her bridal
dress ! She was a being of whom any mother
might be proud ; and it was with a natural and
laudable pride that Mrs. Bentinck surveyed her
lovely daughter ; — and there were smiles upon
Mrs. Bentinck's lips and tears in her eyes, as she
accompanied that beloved, loving, and lovely off-
spring to the altar. Sir Matthew Heseltine had
bestowed a splendid dower upon his grandchild;
and he himself appeared supremely proud of the
young and beautiful relative whom he was be-
stowing upon me. And again, I say, that if there
had ever been a moment when I rejoiced more
than at another in my patrician rank, it was at
the instant when the ceremony being over, I im-
printed the bridal kiss upon Annabel's cheek and
hailed her as the Countess of Eccleston.

CHAPTEE CLVIII.

Two years elapsed after my marriage with Anna-
bel— two years of happiness that would have been
as utterly unalloyed as the purest gold, were it
not that the conviction grew painfully stronger
and stronger in my mind that my mother's health
was declining and that she had not long to live.
She dwelt with us altogether — either at Eccleston
House in London, or at the beautiful country
seat which we possessed in Hampshire: and she
had likewise accompanied us on the occasion of
two or three visits which we paid to Sir Matthew
Heseltine and Mrs, Bentinck in Westmoreland.
She loved Annabel as dearly as if she were a
daughter; and my sweet, my beautiful Countess
loved her equally in return. My mother did her
best to conceal the ravages which illness was work-
ing within her: but I observed them — Annabel
likewise perceived them ; and this was the only
circumstance which threw the slightest shade upon
those first two years of our wedded life. A son
blest our union ; and the heir to my title and
estates was only a few months old, when the blow
at length struck the grandmother to whom the
child was as much endeared as to its own parents.
The Dowager Countess of Eccleston lay upon
her death-bed : Annabel and myself were there —
Mr. and Mrs. Howard likewise. But, thank
heaven, the last moments of my mother were
serene : she had fully made her peace with the
■world : she had lived long enough to witness the
prosperity and happiness of that son whom for

years she had ignored, but by whom she had been
so sincerely and unfeignedly forgiven. With her
parting words she blessed us all ; and it was with-
out pain — without physical agony at the last,
that dissolving nature yielded up the spirit which
had animated it.

After the funeral, Annabel and I proceeded with
our beloved child to pass a few months in seclusion
at Heseltine Hall. Grief becomes mellowed down
into pious resignation ; and so it was with us. In
our own love there was a soothing balm — a solaoe
ineffable : and Oh ! I am proud to place it upon
record that every amiable quality which I had for
years known in Annabel as the virgin whom I had
courted, was fully developed in the endearments
which were shed upon me by that same Annabel
as the wife whom I had wedded.

When many months had passed after my
mother's death, we received an invitation to spend
a few weeks at Inch Methglin. This invitation
from the Chief included Sir Matthew and Mrs.
Bentinck : but the worthy old Baronet was be-
coming too infirm to travel — and his devoted
daughter would not leave him. Annabel and I
accordingly proceeded to Inch Methglin, — taking
our' child with us, and accompanied by several
domestics. Some years had elapsed since I last
beheld that picturesque portion of Scottish scenery;
and the reader will recollect under what circum-
stances I had left it. It was when in the night-
time accomplishing the escape and flight of Em-
meline that she might become the bride of Sir
Alexander Carrondale.

It was at about four o'clock on a beautiful
afternoon of a Spring day, that the travelling"
carriage in which we travelled with our suite,
brought us within view of the picturesque little
village of Methglin. What emotions swelled
within me as I caught the first glimpse of the spire
of the rural church ; and as I took my Annabel's
hand and pressed it to my lips, I could not help
saying to her, " Little thought I when I last be-
held yon spire, that the next time my eyes rested
upon it I should be so happy as I now am !"

Annabel was well acquainted with all the inci-
dents that had attended the wooing and the mar-
riage of Sir Alexander Carrondale ; and as we ap-
proached the shore of the loch, I said to her, " You
will now see the very spot were Sir Alexander —
— after having been known in the neighbourhood
only as a humble tutor — alighted from his carriage
amidst the cheers of the villagers and the Chief's
assembled tenantry. Ah ! from this point we ought
to behold that spot."

We looked forth from the carriage-windows ;
and Annabel said to me, "There is a crowd assem-
bled in that place now !"

And there was so : and as the carriages rolled
up to the vicinage of the jetty on the bank of the
loch, I was received with precisely the same ova-
tion which had greeted Sir Alexander Carrondale
on the memorable day to which I had been refer-
ring. And who was there to greet us but Sir
Alexander himself, accompanied by Lennox ?
Warm and cordial were those greetings which we
received ; and a beautiful Scotch lady camo for-
ward to receive our littlo Joseph from the at-
tendant nurse. This lady was Lennox Vennachar's
wife ; and a most amiable person she proved
to be.

390

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OE, THE itfEMOIBS OP A MAN-SEBVANT.

Amidst the cheers of the Chief's assembled
tenantry vre entered the state-barge ; and as Sir
Alexander Carrondale took his seat by my side, he
whispered. " You know, my dear Eecleston, how
the Chief clings to all ancient usages and customs ;
and therefore you must not think it discourteous
that he has not come across the lake to welcome
you in person. It is a traditional custom for him
to receive his visitors on his own ancestral terri-
tory— the Inch itself. And there he stands on
the opposite pier, with my Emmeliue leaning on
his arm, and with friends in attendance whom you
will be glad to meet !"

Ah ! how many memories of the past did every-
thing I now beheld conjure up, — memories of that
period when I was a menial at the mansion to
which I was now proceeding as an honoured guest,
— memories of the time when I used to wonder
whether, as I thought of Annabel, I should ever
become her happy husband ! And I could not help
saying to myself, " It was good that all the earlier
part of my life should have been spent in obscu-
rity, in order that I might bear my present rank
without undue pride or vain-glory ! It was good
also that I should have known so much suffering,
as it has enabled me all the better to appreciate so
much subsequent happiness and prosperity !"

We landed at the pier belonging to the Inch ;
and most cordial was the welcome we received
from the Chief who was stationed there to receive
us. Lady Carrondale, looking as handsome as ever,
embraced my beautiful Countess with a true sisterly
affection. Then two fine handsome youths pressed
forward to greet me and be introduced to my
Countess ; — these were Ivor and Lochiel, the
Chief's sons who had thus grown up. Ivor was
the one whom I had been fortunate enough to
save from drowning on the day when the accident
occurred to the boat at the jetty of the Inch;
and the noble-minded youth failed not now to
mention it in most grateful terms. There was
Dominie Clackmannan — there was Mr. Saltcoats
in a complete new suit of grey — and there was
Mr. Duncansby, who was overjoyed to see me.
The excellent writer to the Signet was but little
changed since last I had seen him : he had the
same round, red, good-natured face that had first
prepossessed me in his favour : and if there were
any alteration at all in his personal appearance,
it was that he wore a wig of a somewhat lighter
brown and with somewhat more youthful curls
than that which he had been wont to sport.

"I came to Inch Methglin on purpose to see
you, my dear Lord Eecleston," said Mr. Dun-
cansby, as he presently drew me aside. '•' You
and I will seize an opportunity to talk over all the
p^st : for it is pleasant to discuss such things when
one's present position enables one to look back
■with a smile upon all bygone adventures. Your
lordship has not been to Inch Methglin since you
helped the fair Emmeline to elope ? No, never ?
Well, you see it is not a bit altered— everything is
precisely the same "

"And even the Chief himself," I added, "does
not appear to have grown any older,"

"God bless you, my dear Earl!" exclaimed
Duncansby. " Older ? W^hy, I do believe he
considers himself younger ! There are to be such
festivities — and all in honour of yourself and your
beautiful Countess ; and 111 be bound the Chief

will open the ball with her to-night. 'Pun my
soul, your lordship is a lucky man ! Lady Car-
rondale is eminently handsome — Mrs. Lennox Ven-
nachar is also very beautiful— and there is a pretty
sprinkling of young ladies, all relations of the
Chief, who are grouped yonder. But not one of
them can compare with the Countess of Eecles-
ton !"

"It's just that," said the Dominie, who came
rolling up to us at the moment, taking three
pinches of snuff consecutively : " but now that you
are here, my lord, I hope you will use your influ-
ence with the Chief to have that bridge built
across the loch. Yes, I must mean across the loch
— and not over the garden. I have already been
telling him about it "

"And you nearly put the Chief into a passion
at breakfast-time," said Mr. Duncansby with a
smile, " by going on about that bridge."

"It's just that," said the Dominie. "And now
that Baillie Owlhead— I mean the Laird of TintO'
squashdale — no, I mean the Earl of Eecleston has
come to revisit the place, he must set the Chief to
work at once about that bridge — "

" All in good time, my dear Mr. Clackmannan,"
I answered : " but for heaven's sake leave the
bridge alone for the present. And pray tell me,
where is Mrs. Clackmannan P and how is she ?"

"It's just that," answered the Dominie. "The
Widow Glenbucket — I mean M!rs. Clackmannan
would not on any account leave Edinburgh. I
don't think any one had tied her fast to the bed-
post, or walled her up in her room — because she
saw me safe into the post-chaise along with Salt-
coats— and she told us to recollect that there was a
cold meat pie dnd plenty of bottled ale under the
seat. But it's just this, — that she's wedded to her
present abode and wouldn't leave it. And this
reminds me of what I one day said to my friend
Baillie Owlhead of the Gallowgate "

"Nonsense, Dominie!" vociferated Saltcoats,
who joined us at the moment. " Come and see
the Earl's beautiful little boy, the young Lord
Mulgrave."

"It's just that," answered the Dominie. "I
paid my respects to the rosy-cheeked rogue just

now, and offered him let me see, what did I

offer him ? It must have been a pinch of snuft'."

The whole party now began moving up towards
the mansion, — where, in front of the principal en-
trance, the Chief's full-plumed piper was stalking
to and fro. As we drew near, he sent forth a
shrill scream from his Highland music ; and how-
ever barbaric the sounds, they nevertheless con-
veyed a welcome to Inch Methglin. In the even-
ing there was a sumptuous banquet served up in
the old baronial hall, to which I have alluded in
a former portion of my narrative, and the walls of
which were decorated with banners, weapons,
antlers, and numerous other memorials of warfare
and of the chase. Guests from the entire neigh-
bourhood for miles around, had been invited to
this festival; and without any figure of speech it
may be said that the board groaned beneath the
sumptuous display of plate and the good cheer
that was crowded upon the table. Afterwards
there was a ball in the State drawing-rooms ; and
the festivities were kept up to a late hour.

On the following morning I took Annabel for a
ramble before breakfast through those grounds

JOSEPH WltMOT; OB, THB MEMOTRS OF A MAN-SERVANT.

891

every inch of which was so well known to me ;
and I indicated to her diflferent spots which were
connected with the salient occurrences of the time
that I was attached as a menial to the Chief's
household. It was, as Mr. Duncansby had said, a
pleasure to reflect upon all those incidents in
which, humble though I was at the time, I had
borne no inconsiderable part ; and my amiable
Countess was deeply interested in everything that
I told her.

Presently we were joined by the youthful Ivor ;
and addressing Annabel, be said, "Your ladyship
ruiiet know that to the Earl I am indebted for my
life. This was the spot where he brought me

ashore Ah ! how often and often have I

thought and spoken of it since !"

It was thus that the grateful youth expressed
himself with a degree of fervid emotion which
brought tears into Annabel's eyes ; and I should
observe that throughout the period of six weeks
which we spent at Inch Methglin, no one wa^
more delighted to play with our little boy (then
upwards of a year old) — none more rejoiced to
fondle and caress him, than Ivor Vennachar. And
throughout that period all the hospitalities of Inch
Methglin were displayed in a princely style.
There was a constant change and succession of
guests invited to meet us — there were banquets
and balls, riding parties and boating parties —
expeditions to the most picturesque or remarkable
spots within a range of twenty miles — entertain-
ments given to the Chief's tenantry, that they
might have holidays to celebrate our presence at
the mansion ; — in a word, the Chief provided an
endless variety of recreations and amusements to
make the time pass as happily and cheerfully as
possible.

When we took leave of this hospitable abode, it
\Yas for the purpose of passing a similar period at
Carrondale Castle, at the earnest desire of Sir
Alexander and his amiable wife. Thither we were
accompanied by Mr. Duncansby, Mr. Saltcoats, and
Dommie Clackmannan j and there we were enter-
tained with a hospitality as perfect as that which
we had experienced at Inch Methglin, — though
perhaps a little more devoid of antiquated usages,
and a little more characterized by the elegant re-
finements of the present age. The six weeks of
this visit passed away happily enough ; and from
Scotland we returned into Westmoreland. I had
received numerous letters from my friends on the
Continent, inviting me to visit them; and we re
solved upon a tour for this purpose. We accord-
ingly set off, with only a limited number of
attendants, in order that we might be as little as
possible hampered with ceremonies; and we first of
all proceeded to Paris, There I pointed out to
Annabel the mansion where the frightful Paulin
tragedy had taken place; and where the window of
the room itself had been blocked up. From Pans
we journeyed to Marseilles : and thence we passed
over into Corsica.

Upwards of four years had now elapsed since
those occurrences which related to the Count of
Monte d'Oro ; and his ancestral castle was now
completely rebuilt : that is to say, an edifice in a
more modern style had been erected upon its site.
Money had been freely lavished to accelerate the
progress of the structure ; and hence the rapidity
with which it was brought to a completion. The

Count and Countess of Monte d'Oro, with the two
children that had blessed their union — together
with Signer Portici, and a numerous retinue of
domestics — had removed into their new mansion a
few weeks before our arrival. The castellated edi-
fice had au appearance that was exceedingly pic-
turesque, and would have been imposing likewise,
were it not for the evident newness of the masonry.
It was sumptuously furnished, chiefly in the style
of Louis the Fourteenth; and the grounds were
beautifully laid out, I need hardly say that we
were received with the most cordial welcome, and
that during our sojourn of several weeks we were
entertained in the most hospitable manner. The
young page had married the Ajaccio lady, and had
proceeded with her to his native Greece on a visit
to that country : so that we did not on this occa-
sion see him. We repaired to the ruins of the
Monastery of St. Bartholomew, which were totally
unchanged since I was last amongst them : but all
the surrounding district, which once constitiited the
Patrimony, and was now incorporated with the do-
main of Monte d'Oro, was being rapidly brought
into cultivation under the auspices of the Count.
We visited likewise the farm-house where myself
and my two Greek companions had experienced so
hospitable a reception after our shipwreck ; and we
found that the family was more prosperous than
ever, thanks to the Count of Monte d'Oro's
bounty.

From Corsica we proceeded to Florence: to pass
a few weeks with the Count and Countess of Li-
vorno. We were frequent guests at the table of
the Grand Duke of Tuscany ; and my beautiful
Annabel was the star of universal admiration in
the Florentine capital — as I am proud to say she
was whithersoever we went. The reader will recol-
lect that Italian gentleman who on the day of the
grand reception at the ducal palace, was so enthu-
siastic in his praises of Annabel's beauty, and who
subsequently gave me the information of the cap-
ture of Annabel and her relatives by Marco
Uberti's band in the Apennines. This gentlemim I
met : and making myself known, informed him
that the very lady whom he had so much admired,
had since become my wife. He dined with us;
and I then mentioned how greatly he had served us
at the time by giving me that information to
which I have just alluded.

I have now to speak of Dorchester. True to the
promise made to him in the gaol at Florence, the
Count of Livorno exerted his influence at the time
to procure his removal to an asylum for the in-
sane. It required an income of three hundred a
year (speaking in English money) to maintain him
in that place ; and this was at first paid bv the
Count. But very shortly after my accession to
the title and estates of Eccleston, L had made a
provision for the regular payment of the quarterly
stipends ; as I could not possibly allosv the Count
to disburse his own money on behalf of an indi-
vidual for whom he himself entertained no per-
sonal sympathy, and to whom be lay under no
obligation. Dorchester was still living ; and I
visited him at the asylum, which was about twelve
miles from Florence. I found him in a miserable
state of feebleness and decrepitude, and with health
60 shattered that he evidently had not long to live.
He nevertheless retained full possession of his in-
tellects: he was penitent for his past misdeeds : he

392

J03KPH WILMOT; OE, THE MEMOIRS OP A MIS-SEBVAJIT.

had no desire for any farther liberty than that
which he enjoyed in the spacious gardens attached
to the asylum ; and if an offer Lad been made for
him to remove elsewhere, he would have rejected
it. The Count of Livorno had acquainted him at
the time with my change of position, my acknow-
ledgment by my parents, and my accession to my
rights : he knew also of Lanover's death and the
circumstances in which he had perished. He was
overwhelmed with his feelings on beholding me :
it was with a visible sincerity that he proffered his
congratulations on the turn that circumstances had
taken in my favour ; and he expressed his heart-
felt gratitude for my bounty in making the allow-
ance which maintained him at the asylum. I
never saw him afterwards : — within the year he
died, and was buried in some adjacent cemetery.
There, in a nameless grave, he reposes ; and let it i
be hoped that the penitence of his latter days was '
sincere enough to wbtain heaven's mercy for the
misdeeds of a long and ill-spent life. \

From Florence we journeyed to Rome, to pass a
few weeks with the Count and Countess of Avel- j
lino. Cardinal Gravina had died about two years |
back, and left all his vast property to his god- {
daughter Antonia ; so that she and her husband
were now immensely rich. During our stay in
Kome, we were frequent guests at the Count of
Tivoli's palace : the Viscount had married— and his
conduct was in every way calculated to afford his
relatives and friends the utmost satisfaction. After
an absence of about six months, we returned to
England, to settle down for the present at Ec-
cleston House.

Three or four years passed away without any
incident worthy of note — unless it be that during
this interval Annabel presented me with another
son. The nest occurrence which I have to men-
tion is the death of Sir Matthew Heseltine. The
intelligence of his extreme danger was one day
conveyed to us very suddenly by means of a tele-
graphic message. He had caught a severe cold,
which led to inflammation internally ; and in a few
short hours his life was considered to be in the
utmost peril. On receiving this message, Annabel
an i I at once set off for Westmoreland by special
train; and we arrived at Heseltine Hall just in
time to receive the old man's dying benediction.
He was perfectly sensible up to the last ;
and it was in his daughter's arms that he
expired. "When the funeral was over and his
will was opened, it was found that he had left
his daughter (Mrs. Bentinck) the Hall and
estate for her lifetime, with a provision that
at her decease the property was to devolve upon
us. To Mr. and Mrs. Leslie— better known to
the reader under their long assumed name of
Foley — the worthy Baronet had bequeathed the
sum of ten thousand pounds; for their conduct
since they emigrated to a foreign clime, had been
such as was calculated to afford the utmost satisfac-
tion to all who were interested in them. To Annabel
and myself Sir Matthew Heseltine left the sum of
fifty thousand pounds in ready money, besides, as I
have already said, the reversion of the Westmore-
land domain. But all these handsome bequests
could not compensate for the loss of him who be-
neath so many eccentricities had concealed the
faculty for so much real goodness ; and deeply did
we deplore his loss. Mrs. Bentinck did not feel

disposed to dwell at the Hall by herself ; and ear-
nestly as well as cheerfully did I second Annabel's
entreaty that she would thenceforth abide alto-
gether with us. To this she assented. She lives
with us still ; and the goodness of her disposition
throws an additional halo round a hearth where all
the elements of earthly happiness are united to
an extent which it seldom falls to the lot of mor-
tals to experience.

OHAPTEE CLIS.

The incident which I am now about to relate, oc-
curred some twelve or fifteen months after the
death of Sir Matthew Heseltine. I must preface
it by a few words of explanation. The law of
primogeniture, as the reader is aware, will give
my title as well as the hereditary portion of my
estates to my eldest son, Lord Mulgrave. I have
now three children, — the two eldest being sons, the
youngest a daughter. My revenues from various
sources are very large ; and although we live in a
manner befitting our position, we do not expend
more than two-thirds of our income. The remain-
ing third is devoted to the purpose of making a
provision for our two younger children ; so that
the boy, on growing up, may not be compelled to
accept the degraded position of a State-pauper,
foisted, like too many scions of the aristo-
cracy, upon the taxes produced by the hard in-
dustry of the toiling millions. ZS'either in respect
to our daughter — whose Christian name is Anna-
bella — could Annabel and myself endure the idea
that when she grows up to a marriageable state,
pecuniary considerations should enter into the
mode in which she may be matrimonially settled.
TTe seek to give her a fortune which may place
her in complete independence of such base specu-
lations, and leave her richly provided for should
anything prematurely occur to ourselves. There
will be the Westmoreland estate which we shall be
enabled to dispose of, and which is of course un-
hampered by the trammels affixed by the law of
primogeniture to my hereditary domains : but in
addition to that splendid reversionary property,
we apportion, as I have already said, one-third of
our large income to make an adequate provisioa
for our younger children.

An immense sum of ready money had thus
accumulated at the time when the incident oc-
curred which I am now about to relate. I had
heard of a splendid estate to be sold in the neigh-
bourhood of a town in a Midland County ; and I
resolved to inspect it, with a view to its purchase
if it suited. Attended by only a valet, I pro-
ceeded by railway to the town which was nearest
to the estate; and arriving there at about five
o'clock in the evening, I took up my quarters at
the principal hotel, with the idea of visiting the
property on the following morning. The hotel to
which I allude, was by no means a first-rate one—
but still very comfortable ; and it was patronised
by the commercial travellers visiting that town.
A fair was being holden in the town at the time :
the hotel was full ; and on first inquiring for a
private sitting-room, I was informed that I could

JOSEPH WILMOT; OB, THE MEMOIBS OP A MAN-SEETANT,

not have it. ISlj valet stepped forward, announc-
ing who I was; and then the landlady, full of con-
fusion and of apologies, expressed her conviction
that the family occupying the principal sitting-
room would cheerfully give it up for the Earl of
Eccleston. I positively declared that I would
have nobody disturbed on my account : the land-
lady entreated and implored — but I remained
firm, alleging moreover that it was not probable
I should remain at the hotel for more than a single
night. I therefore ordered my valet to see that
dinner was presently served up to me in the com-
mercial room ; and I proceeded to inspect my bed-
chamber. It was on the second storey, at the
back of the house, and had the stable yard under
the window.

" Your lordship can never sleep here I" said my
valet, who haa attended me with the carpet-bag :
and he looked round the room with indescribable
disgust.
102

" It will do very well," I ans'.vercd : '■' it is only
for a single night — and besides, I am not fastidious.
The place is small and homely, it is true : but still
everything has an air of perfect cleanliness. Put
out my things from the bag; and go and see about
my dinner, as I have already ordered you."

William did as I commanded ; and when I had
performed my ablutions, I repaired to the com-
mercial room. Two individuals were seated at
the centre table, each drinking brandy-and-water.
One immediately started up and made me a most
profound bow : for it appeared that the waiter had
already officiously in.'ormed every one in the house
who I was. The person who thus rose and saluted
me, was Mr. Henley, that commercial traveller
whom, as the reader will recollect, I had first en-
countered at Bagshot when on my way to the
Shacklefords at Heather Place. It was this same
Mr. Henley, too, who had wounded Poley— or
rather Leslie — when so iniquitously performing

394

JOSEPH WIIjMOT; OE, THE MEMOIRS OP A MAN-SERVANT.

the part of a liigliwayman. Nor less did I re-
member bow mercitully Mr. Henley had dealt in
respect to that individual when his trial came on
at the Heading Assizes. I therefore took him by
the band,— saying, " You and I, Mr. Henley, are
old acquaintances."

The commercial traveller was evidently much
pleased by my demeanour towards him ; and we
conversed together on the leading topics of the
day. The other person who was seated at the
table, presently joined in the discourse ; and I now
noticed that he was a repulsive-looking old man,
with a very sinister cast in one of his eyes. Pre-
sently I heard Mr, Henley address him by the
name of Mr. Dobbins; and almost immediately
afterwards they spoke of Exeter. I thus acquired
the certainty that this repulsive-looking old man,
■with the ominous cast in the eye, could be none
other than that haberdasher at Exeter at whose
door I had encountered my Annabel at the time
1 was about to enter the service of the Tivertons
at Myrtle Lodge. It was likewise to this Dobbins
that Lanover had endeavoured to dispose of Anna-
bel in marriage ; and as the ill-looking old man
had certainly entered into the negotiation at the
time, though hfe subsequently brake it off— as I
have already explained to the reader — I could not
help conceiving a certain degree of aversion to-
wards him. There was eoraething loathsome in
the idea that such a man should ever have even
dreamt of sacrificing to his passion so bright and
beautiful a creature as my Annabel.

My dinner was presently served up at one of
the side-tables; Mr. Dobbins went out— to see a
friend, I think I heard him say : Mr. Henley re-
mained sipping his brandy-and-water ; and we
continued to discourse. Presently the door opened
somewhat violently; and a man burst in, exclaim-
ing, "Hang me if I don't make these railway
people suffer for this !"

" What ! have you not yet succeeded in obtain-
ing your luggage, sir ?" asked Mr. Henley : and I
observed that he made a quick sign for the new-
comer to avoid creating such a disturbance by
slamming the door and talking so vociferously.

"Obtained it? No!" ejaculated the individual.
"A trunk, a carpet-bag, and a band-box- all with
my name upon it— sent right on, no doubt to
Leeds or York— or to the devil knows where !
But I'll make 'em smart for it— bang me if I
don't !"

" It's no use putting yourself in a passion, sir,"
said Mr. Henley in a tone of remonstrance. " The
same accident has on two or three occasions oc-
curred to myself — always through my own care-
lessness, I am bound to admit : but my luggage
has never been lost — it has always been sent back
in the long run."

" Well, that's a consolation, at any rate !" said
the individual : and he proceeded to ring the bell.
" Grlass of hot brandy-and-water," he said, when
the waiter made bis appearance. " And I say, let
the porter go down to the station for the ten
o'clock up-train — because it's quite possible my
luggage may come by it : it has been telegraphed

for Or stop ! all things considered, I will run

down myself at ten o'clock. There's nothing like
looking after one's own business," be added,
turning towards Mr. Henley.

The waiter disappeared to fetch the brandy-

and-water ; and in the meantime I had begun to
survey the new-comer with an increasing attention.
He was tall and somewhat inclined to thinness :
bis complexion was sallow — but be had a very red
nose, evidently from the effects of drinking. His
whiskers and beard were all shaved clean off: but
he had a bountiful crop of hair upon bis bead ;
and this was of a deep black — but of that peculiar
hue, inky and dull, which excited the suspicion
that it was dyed. He had lost all the front teeth
from his upper jaw : and bis lip consequently fall-
ing in, gave him a marvellously ugly profile. His
eyebrows were very dark and shaggy : methought
that they were dyed likewise : or at all events if
his hair were, I was convinced that bis bro>vs
must be also. His looks were far from being
prepossessing; and there was something singular
in them — for be bad no eyelashes — not a single
lash to either the upper or the lower lids : so that
I conjectured they must have fallen out through
disease. My opinion that he had weak eyes ap-
peared to be very epeedily confirmed ; as bo had
not been many minutes in the room — where the
gas was now lighted — before he drew forth a pair
of spectacles with blue glasses, which ho wiped
and put on. As for bis age, it was by no means
easy to conceive : he might be forty, or iifty, or
even sixty — for the loss of his teeth and the almost
certainty which I entertained that his hair was
dyed, admitted the belief that he might even be as
old as the last-mentioned period. As for his ap-
parel, he was tolerably well-dressed — certainly
with no show nor pretension on the one hand,
nor with sbabbiness on the other. Yet there was
something about this person which I dic^not alto,
gether like ; and there was the vague and dim
idea in my brain that it was not the first time I
had met him: but for the life of me I could not
recollect where we had met before, even if I could
make up my mind that we really bad so encoun-
tered each other.

I continued my dinner : and as I happened to
turn round to say souiething to Mr. Henley, I
perceived that the waiter was whispering a few
hasty words in the ear of the person to whom be
was now supplying the brandy-and-water. I
guessed what the waiter was saying to him : he
was telling him who I was ; for immediately after
be moved away, Mr. Smithson — as I presently
heard him called — surveyed me with attention
through bis blue glasses. He did not however
speak any more for some little while ; and then it
was in a very low and deferential tone. In about
half-an-bour he quitted the room — muttering some-
thing about bis luggage— but what it was I did
not hear.

" Who is that person ?" I asked of Mr. Henley.

" I don't know, my lord," was the commercial
traveller's response. " He arrived at the hotel
yesterday afternoon, and was in a towering rage
about his luggage. His name is Smithson : but I
don't think he is a bagman, for he does not con-
verso upon those matters which are familiar to
commercial rooms ; and he has done nothing but
lounge about the town all day. I rather think,
from something be said, he expected to meet a friend
at this hotel, but that he has been disappointed.
His manners are not over-polished ; and now and
then he lets drop some queer expressions from bis
lips: but still be rattled on in a good-humoured

JOSEPH WILMOT; OE, THH MEMOIBa OV A MAK-SEBVANT.

39 S

way when dining with four or five of us at this
table a couple of hours back — and he drank his
wine pretty liberally."

I recollected no one of the name of .Smithson ;
and therefore I fancied that I must be mistaken in
my idea that I had met this individual before. Mr.
Senley had said nothing against him ; and I now
felt vexed with myself that I should have been pre-
judiced by whatsoever was unprepossessing in Mr.
Smithson's looks : for at first I had certainly liked
him as little as could be. Mr. Henley now took
an opportunity to express his regret that I should
find such poor accommodations as the commercial
room : but on the other hand he intimated that
for his own sake he ought to feel rejoiced at the
circumstance, inasmuch as it had thrown us to-
gether. I assured him that I was very glad to
meet him again ; and I gave him to understand
that the Mr. Leslie, or Foley, in whom he had in-
terested himself a few years back, was now a
thriving and even wealthy man in another part of
the world.

In the midst of our discourse, Mr. Smithson re-
turned ; Mr. Dobbins soon afterwards reappeared :
and two other commercial travellers came lounging
in. A most respectful appeal was made to me as
to whether I objected to tobacco-smoke ; and I
assured the company that though I very rarely
smoked myself I had not the slightest objection to
it. The bell was accordingly rung: orders for
spirits and cigars were given to the waiter ; and I
sat slowly sipping my glass of claret, while occa-
sionally conversing with Henley, or listening to
the discourse which was going on amongst the rest.
At about a quarter to ten Smithson again went out,
muttering something about his luggage ; and at a
quarter past ten he returned, complaining bitterly
of the negligence of the railway officials in pro-
longing the delay with respect to the restoration of
his missing property. Mr. Henley good-naturedly
ofiered to accommodate him with the use of any
articles his own portmanteau might afford: but
Smithson said, " Oh ! as for a clean shirt and those
sort of things, I've just been out to buy them.
But it's the annoyance of being kept without one's

traps And then too, if a certain friend of mine

whom I expect to meet here, happens to come late
to-night, he will want me to start with him in the
morning for another place."

" It is one of those inconveniences," said Mr.
Henley, sipping his brandy-and-water and smoking
his cigar with the most philosophical coolness,
" whicli will happen to persons in life — but which
are scarcely worth any extraordinary degree of
passion or impatience. What do you think, my
lord ?"

" I am inclined to be of your opinion," I re-
sponded.

" Well, since his lordship says so," observed Mr.
Smithson, now throwing himself upon a seat in a
corner with an air of fatigue, " I will complain
no more about it. I dare say it will be as right as
a trivet in the long run."

Mr. Henley glanced at me as this vulgarism
issued from Smithson's lips : but the latter re-
mained comparatively silent for the next hour,
during which we all sat together in the commer-
cial room. The conversation presently turned on a
very severe accident whicb had happened to a poor
working man in the town, and in consequence of

which his life was despaired of. It appeared that
he had a wife and large family totally dependent
upon him — and that they were now reduced to a
state of destitution. The circumstance was men-
tioned by a merchant of the place who came into
the commercial room to speak on business to Mr.
Henley ; and we were informed that the inhabit-
ants were getting up a subscription for the relief
of the poor family. Henley proposed to start a
subscription in the commercial room for the aid of
the general fund : and he commenced it by laying
down a sovereign. I begged to be permitted to
contribute five guineas ; and on a reference to my
purse, I found that I had not a sufficiency for the
purpose, I therefore took out my pocket-book, in
which I had a considerable quantity of bank-notes ;
and I paid my subscription accordingly. The
other commercial travellers followed Mr. Henley's
example with the utmost readiness, and to the
same amount which he himself had contributed.
Mr. Dobbins muttered something about the bad-
ness of trade and the hardness of times ; and with
much evident reluctance drew forth five shillings—
a miserable contribution for a man who was ex-
ceedingly well ofi".

" Here's my half-guinea !" exclaimed Smithson,
starting up from his corner, and depositing the
money upon the table : " I would cheerfully give
more — but I left my pocket-book containing a
quantity of notes, in the trunk that is strayed or
lost. However, if I get my things to-morrow, I'll
come down a deuced deal handsomer than this."

The merchant took charge of the subscriptions ;
and when this little affair was finished, Mr. Smith-
son, bidding us all " good night," left the room.

" Well, he is not a bad-hearted fellow, with all
his peculiarities," said Mr. Henley. "He gave
what he could afford ; and that is more than some
people do," he added, with a glanco at the Exeter
haberdasher.

A few minutes afterwards I rose and bade the
company " good night " — it being now past eleven
o'clock. I had rung for my chamber candle ; and
on the landing I found my valet waiting for me.

"This way, my lord," said William, conducting
me towards a passage branching off from that
landing, instead of leading up the next staircase
towards the room originally assigned to me.

"My chamber is not in that direction," I said.

" I beg your lordship's pardon," replied Wil-
liam: "but I represented to the landlady that it
was impossible for your lordship to sleep in that
hole of a chamber upstairs. She accordingly suc-
ceeded in making some change with one of the
gentlemen staying in the house ; and the result is
that your lordship has now a chamber fit for
your reception."

" I am sorry you should have done this, Wil-
liam," I answered, " because I positively assured
you that I would have no one disturbed or put to
an inconvenience on my account."

" The landlady declared, my lord, that she could
manage the matter with the greatest ease — and
she has done so."

I said no more ; for I knew that my valet had
been inspired only by the very best intentions.
He conducted me to the chamber which he had
thus succeeded in obtaining for me ; and its aspect
certainly promised a very great improvement on
the one originally allotted for my reception. I

396

JOSEPH WILMOT; OR, THE MEM0IE3 OP A MAN-SERVANT.

speedily dismissed William for the night— and got
to bed. I did not know how long I bad slept,
vfhea I awoke under an oppressive influence as if
I was suddenly passing out from the maze of an
unpleasant dream — though of what nature it had
been I had not the slightest recollection. There
was no light in my room ; and it was pitch dark.
I could not therefore consult my watch : but I lay
awake for some while, and heard the church-clock
proclaim the hour of one. I therefore found that
I had not slept very long before I was thus awak-
ened. There was certainly a feeling of vague un-
easiness in my mind — a something for which I
could not possibly account. I had nothing to make I
me unhappy nor to affect my spirits; and there- [
fore I could form no other conjecture than that '
which I have already placed upon record — namely,
that I had awakened suddenly from some troubled
dream. Methought that I heard the sounds of i
light footsteps in some part of the house overhead :
but in an hotel where people retired at all hours
of the night, I attached no importance to that cir- i
cumitance. Sleep gradually stole upon me once i
more ; and I slumbered tranquilly on until eight I
o'clock in the morning — when my valet called me, -
according to instructions given him on the preced- i
ing night. i

ily toilet being accomplished, I proceeded to
the commercial room, where I found Mr. Henley
and Mr. Smithson seated together at breakfast, i
I bade them " good-morning ;" and my own repast |
was speedily served up. Scarcely however had I
commenced it, when unusual sounds reached our
ears — cries of alarm, ejaculations which seemed full
of horror, and the hasty running up and down of I
footsteps. Then a waiter burst into the commer- \
cial room, giving vent to exclamations, which, |
though very wild and incoherent, nevertheless i
made us aware that something dreadful had taken '
place. The appalling truth was soon made known :
—Mr. Dobbins, the Exeter haberdasher, had been
murdered during the night !

It may be easily supposed that every one in the
hotel was painfully excited by this discovery — and
all the more so, inasmuch as the deed appeared to
be enveloped in a dark mystery. The local police
authorities were speedily on the spot ; and I will
DOW proceed to describe those particulars which
first transpired.

It appeared that my valet William had repre-
sented to the landlady how impossible it was for
me to inhabit what he termed the dog-hole of a
chamber which was originally assigned to me. She
was at first completely at a loss how to make better
arrangements — her house being full and her means
of accommodation limited. She however bethought
herself of mentioning the circumstance to Mr.
Dobbins, who was in possession of the best bed-
room in the house. She was anxious to show me
every attention, even though at some pecuniary
loss to herself; and knowing that Mr. Dobbins'
weak point was his griping meanness in money-
matters, she hinted that if he would sur-
render up his chamber to me she would charge
him nothing for his own lodging as long
as he might remain at the hotel. The old
man snapped at the proposal: his chamber was
given up to me ; and he himself took posses-
sion of the one which it was originally intended I
should occupy. I ought to observe that this ar-

rangement was effected when the unfortunate
Dobbins entered for the night at about nine
o'clock. It further appeared that he had ordered
himself to- be called a little before nine in the
morning. Accordingly, at the specified time, the
chambermaid took up his hot water and knocked
at the door. Eeceiving no answer, she knocked
again and again, each time louder and louder.
Still there was no response : the girl grew afraid ;
and descending, mentioned the circumstance to
the waiter. At that moment the postman came
in ; and amongst the letters which he delivered,
was one for Mr. Dobbins. Availing himself of this
excuse, the waiter ascended to the chamber, with
the letter in his hand ; and opening the door, he
entered. On approaching the bed a hideous spec-
tacle presented itself: the sheets were deluged
with blood — the unfortunate man lay with his
throat cut literally from ear to ear ! The waiter
raised an alarm; and hence the ejaculations and
the hasty tread of footsteps which had reached the
ears of Henley, Smithson, and myself in the com-
mercial room.

At first however we could glean but few cohe-
rent particulars in respect to the tragedy. I
myself was stricken speechless with horror :
Smithson broke out in ejaculations expressive of
a kindred feeling : Mr. Henley at once recom-
mended that nothing in the room should be
touched or in any way disturbed until the local
police-officers made their appearance. These
functionaries were soon upon the spot ; and an
investigation of the scene of the tragedy took
place. Henley, Smithson, and several other per-
sons staying in the house, accompanied the officers
to the chamber of the murdered man : but I had
no morbid curiosity for encountering so ghastly a
spectacle. It appeared that nothing was found to
have been disturbed in the chamber : there was no
evidence of the luggage of the deceased having
been ransacked, nor that any struggle had taken
place between himself and his assassin. That he
had committed suicide, was not for a moment to
be thought of — for two distinct reasons. In the
first place the weapon with which the deed was
done, was not to be found in the room ; and in the
second place, the surgeon who was called in, de-
clared it to be impossible that the deceased could
have inflicted so deep a wound upon himself. Be-
sides, from the medical report it would appear as
if the deceased must have been sleeping on his left
side, and that he had turned partially round upon
his right at the very instant the assassin-deed was
perpetrated. It was consequently supposed that
the deceased had been suddenly disturbed by some
noise in the room ; and that at the very moment
he turned round to see what it was, the razor,
knife, or whatever the weapon were, must have
been drawn across his throat. That the mortal
wound was inflicted with a razor, or else with
some instrument of equal sharpness and keenness
of edge, the surgeon likewise felt convinced.
Death must have been instantaneous,— so instan-
taneous indeed, that though there was evidently
an accompanying convulsive movement of the
arms, yet the unfortunate victim had not even
time to put his hands up to his throat to grasp
the weapon which was doing murder's work with
such lightning rapidity.

The most careful search was instituted through-

JOSEPH WILMOT; OE, THE MEMOffiS OP A MAN-SEEVANT.

397

out the room ; but no trace could be discovered as
to any other proceedings on the part of the assas-
sin. There were no blood-stains anywhere save in
respect to the one vast sanguine dye which covered
the bed-clothes : there were no proofs that the
murderer had wiped his weapon or his hands upon
anything in that chamber. Yet that he must have
done so before leaving it, was to be inferred from
the fact that there was not a mark upon the
handle of the door. The clothes of the deceased
had not been put out to be brushed, but were
lying on a chair just in the same way as they
might be supposed to lie after being put ofT and
carelessly thrown there. The purse, containing
some seven or eight pounds in gold and silver, was
in the breeches'-pocket : a pocket-book was in the
breast of the coat ; and though it contained no
bank notes, yet there was no reason for believing
it had been disturbed, as all the papers lay metho-
dically arranged in it without any sign of haste or
hurry in their disposal, and with no blood stains
either on the book itself or the lappel of the coat.
But no one in the hotel appeared enabled to state
whether Mr. Dobbins had, or had not, any bank-
notes in that pocket-book : — therefore it was in-
ferred that if the pocket-book had been really
rifled, the assassin must have done his work with
a marvellous degree of composure and presence of
mind. The deceased's watch was upon t&e dress-
ing-table, as well as a gold ring which he was ac-
customed to wear : but neither of these articles
were of any great value. Finally, according to
the surgeon's report, the deceased must have been
dead several hours : and it was therefore in the
middle of the night that the horrible deed was
perpetrated.

It will be recollected that when I had retired
from the commercial-room to seek my chamber, I
had left the deceased with Mr. Henley, the other
two commercial travellers, and the merchant who
belonged to the town. It now appeared that al-
most immediately after I thus left, the unfortunate
man himself had retired for the night ; and that,
the merchant taking his leave, Henley and the
other travellers had sought their own respective
apartments. The front door of the hotel was
closed for the night at about twelve o'clock — at
which hour the landlady and the domestics re-
paired to their own rooms. Could the assassin be
one of the inmates of the house ? or had he stolen
in and hidden himself somewhere until he deemed
it safe to perpetrate his crime ? This latter hypo-
thesis was held not to be altogether impossible, in-
asmuch as a door in the back part of the premises
was found in the morning to be merely closed, and
not locked or fastened inside, as it usually was and
as it ought to have been. The porter of the hotel
positively proclaimed his distinct recollection of
having secured that door before he retired to
rest. But on the other hand, it was argued that
the man might be mistaken as to this fact, though
he honestly fancied that he had in reality per-
formed that duty. Still it was possible that the
assassin might be a person from the outside, and
that having perpetrated his crime, h^ let himself
gently out of the premises by means of the door
above referred to, and which communicated with
the stable-yard, whence there were easy means of
egress %y means of a leap over a comparatively
low wall. Nevertheless no signs of footsteps of a

suspicious nature affording a clue to such escape,
could be discovered ; and after the most careful in-
vestigation the police-offioiiils gave it as their opi-
nion that the assassin was some one inhabitino' the
hotel at the time. But on whose Ijead did suspi-
cion alight ? On that of no one : — but all was be-
wilderment and perplexity,

I failed not to mentioEfrhow I had awakened in
the middle of the night and had fancied I had
heard footsteps overhead. The chamber of the
deceased was on the storey above that where I had
slept : but it looked on the back of the house —
whereas the windows of mine were in front. The
room of the tragedy was not therefore immediately
above mine; yet in the midst of the silence of the
night it seemed quite probable that the sounds of
the assassin's steps might have reached ray ears.
And there was another thing which was the source
of much conjecture with many in the hotel— but
of especially painful speculation within my own
breast. Was I first of all the intended victim ?
and had I been saved simply by that change of
apartments which the representations of my valet
had succeeded in accomplishing ? I could not
help thinking that such was the case ; and I shud-
dered at the idea of having experienced so narrow
an escape.

During the first hour after the discovery of the
murder, all was confusion and excitement in the
hotel ; and a crowd was assembled outside. The
Mayor and two local justices-of-the-peace made
their apptarance, and intimated that every person
staying at the hotel was necessarily expected to
remain there until the Coroner's Inquest should be
holden. This desire was very plainly expressed in
reference to all with the exception of myself : but
to me it was conveyed in the respectful form of a
request. I at once repudiated the idea of having
any particular homage paid to my superior condi-
tion ; and I declared my intention to remain at the
hotel so long as there was any necessity for the
other guests to tarry there likewise. The Mayor
then proceeded to take down the names of the
several inmates of the establishment; and this
business was transacted in the commercial room.
While we were giving our names, addresses, and
such other particulars as were required, it was
noticed that Mr. Smithson was absent. But
scarcely was the fact mentioned, when the waiter
stepped forwards and said, " Mr. Smithson has
merely gone down to the railway station to identify
his luggage which arrived early this morning by
the up-train from York. A porter from the station
came about a quarter of an hour back to intimate
the arrival of the goods,"

" But no one ought to have been allowed to
leave the hotel in such circumstances," said the
Mayor angrily.

" Mr. Smithson consulted me upon the subject,
your worship," said the Superintendent of the local
police: "but I at once gave him permission to
proceed to the station, — merely intimating that for
form's sake he must allow one of my officers to
accompany him, as I could part with nobody in
the hotel until this dreadful business had been
thoroughly investigated."

"You acted rightly, Mr. Superintendent," said
the Mayor; "and I withdraw the vituperative re-
mark which I just made."

"Here is Mr. Smithson, your worship," said the

398

JOSEPH WltMOT; OE, THE MEMOIRS OP A MAK-SEEVANT.

waiter, as the individual himself at the instant
made his appearance.

"Your name, if you please, sir?" said the
Mayor.

"Henry Smithson," was the immediate re-
sponse.

" Your business, trade, calling, or avocation ?"
continued the municipal authority.

"Grentleman — living oa my means," was the
answer.

" Your usual residence, sir P" proceeded the
Mayor, putting the same questions which he had
addressed to the other individuals staying at the
hotel.

"My usual residence? Oh! Stamford Street,
London, when I'm at home :" — and Mr. Smithson
mentioned the number of a house in that street.

" An inquest will doubtless be held in the even-
ing," said the Mayor : " and I must beg that every
one now present will remain at the hotel until it is
over. The Earl of Eccleston has already given
his assurance of his intention to do so ; and no
one else can therefore consider it a hardship."

" Hardship P not a bit of it !" exclaimed Mr.
Smithson. " It is a duty which I myself should
have suggested."

The authorities now withdrew; and I remained
in the commercial room, with Henley, Smithson,
and some six or seven other male guests who were
staying at the hotel.

" I have got my luggage at last," said Smithson,
addressing himself to Mr. Henley : " but not, as
you have seen, without a great deal of trouble."

" Really, Mr. Smithson," replied the commercial
traveller, in a tone of grave rebuke, " the petty
affairs of individuals sink into utter insignificance
in the presence of this appalling tragedy which
has just taken place."

I withdrew to my own chamber to write a letter
to Annabel, and acquaint her with what had hap-
pened ; so that she might not receive the intelli-
gence suddenly by reading it in a newspaper; for
I knew perfectly well that she would be much
affected on learning that such a terrible incident
had occurred beneath the same roof where I my-
self was staying. As for the authorship of the
deed, I was totally unable to record even so much
as the faintest suspicion; for it appeared to be
wrapped up in a mystery as deep as its own cir-
cumstances were in every way stupendously appal-
ling. I need hardly say that I thought no more
for the present of the estate which I had come
down into this neighbourhood to inspect : for even
if I had deemed it consistent with propriety to
issue forth from the hotel previous to the inquest,
I had not the heart to enter upon any business-
matters in the presence of circumstances of so
peculiarly fearful a character. I did not even like
to discuss them with the other guests at the hotel ;
and I therefore remained for several hours in my
own chamber, until the waiter came to announce
that the Coroner had just arrived to hold an in-
quest.

CHAPTER CLS.

IHE INQUEST.

I EETUEJfED to the Commercial room, — where I
found the principal guests in the hotel assembled ;
and they were still discussing the horrible event,
as they had doubtless been during the hours of my
absence. I inquired in a whisper of Henley whe-
ther anything new had transpired, or whether
any circumstance, however insignificant, had come
to light to afford a clue to the detection of tho
assassin? But he answered that everything con-
tinued as unsatisfactorily mysterious as at the
outset ; and this response corroborated what I had
very recently heard from my own valet William.
I need hardly say that in the town the event had
produced an immense sensation; and ever since
the morning tho street had been thronged by
people eagerly on the alert to catch anything
fresh which might transpire, and fraught with a
morbid curiosity to gaze up even at the walls
which enclosed the place that had proved the
scene of so hideous a catastrophe.

In respect to my companions in the commercial
room, their demeanour was precisely what might
be expected under such circumstances, — grave,
solemn,* and mournful : their looks were sombre —
their discourse was carried on in half-hushed
voices, as is the case with men when a weight
sits upon their souls. Even Smithson himself
was no longer an exception to the rule : for
though there appeared to be naturally a certain
levity about him, as well as a self-conceited
anxiety to make a parade of whatsoever circum-
stances regarded himself, — yet metbought that he
now shared in that gloomy despondency — that
awful sense of horror, which had taken possession
of all the rest.

The coroner had arrived : the jury were em-
panelled and sworn. The proceedings com-
menced,— the coffee-room of the hotel being
chosen for the seat of the investigation. One
after another the witnesses were called in ; and
depositions were made according to the circum-
stances which are already known to the reader.
Thus the matter progressed ; and still not an in-
cident transpired to afford the slightest clue to
the elucidation of the mystery. Suspicion fell
upon no one : or at least so it appeared to me
from what I heard passing around. I myself
indeed was utterly without a suspicion : I
knew not on what point to concentrate it. To
think that any of the guests had perpetrated the
crime, appeared to me monstrous — preposterous.
The only conjecture I ventured to hazard was to
the effect that the assassin must be one of the
hotel-domestics: but even hero I blamed myself
for suffering my ideas upon the subject to narrow
themselves into any range where a foul injustice
might be done to the character of the innocent.

I was not asked to give any evidence as a wit-
ness— for indeed I had nothing to communicate.
Mr. Henley was however examined — because he
had been three or four days at the hotel, as Dob-
bins had likewise ; and thus the commercial tra-
veller was questioned as to whatsoever knowledge
he might possess in respect to the pursuits of the
deceased during his brief residence in that town.

JOSEPH WIIMOT; OB THB MBM0IE3 OF A MAN-3EEVANT.

399

Henley declared that he had not seen much of
Mr. Dobbins — that for the greater part of each
dav the deceased had been out, visiting the manu-
facturers with whom he already dealt, or with
whom he wished to open dealings— that he had
once or twice seen him consult the contents of his
pocket-book — but whether it contained bank notes
or not he was utterly ignorant. Furthermore
Henley deposed that to the best of his knowledge
Dobbins had no persons visiting him at the hotel;
and he was positive that on the preceding night,
■when retiring to rest, the unfortunate man had
not dropped the slightest hint of having an ap-
pointment with any one for business-purposes at
that late hour.

On returning to the commercial room after his
examination, Henley acquainted us all with the
nature of the questions which had been put to
him. I was presently informed that my valet
William was to be examined; and I repaired to
the cofiFee-room where the Coroner and jury sat,
to hear this examination, — though I was at no
loss to conjecture its nature and object. William
accordingly presented himself; and he was ques-
tioned in respect to the change of rooms which
had been brought about on his representations.
I really fancied for an instant, — and the idea
caused me unspeakable pain, — that my valet's
active intervention on my behalf relative to that
change, had excited a suspicion against him ;
and that it might be supposed he had purposely
manoeuvred to get the deceased Dobbins assigned
to a particular chamber where it would be most
easy to perpetrate a crime previously resolved
upon. But William gave his answers so frankly,
and his evidence was so completely corroborated
by the testimony of the landlady, — that if such a
suspicion had for an instant existed in the heart of
the Coroner, it was completely dispelled. For it
was shown that he really did not even know who
the individual was that had consented to make
the exchange of rooms on my behalf.

The examination of WUliam was over ; and the
Coroner was about to sum up to the jury, when a
man in the dress of a railway porter entered the
room, and delivered a note to the presiding func-
tionary. The Coroner opened it; and every one
watched his countenance with considerable anxiety
and suspense : for it was naturally supposed that
every incident which now occurred, bore upon the
case. The Coroner perused the note, and then dis-
played it to the Superintendent of Police, who
was present. When this latter functionary had
read it, he whispered something to the Coroner,
and quitted the room.

" We will suspend the proceedings for a few
minutes, if you please, gentlemen," said the
Coroner ; " and you will perhaps learn the reason
presently."

Suspense was now excited to its most feverish
point ; and every one was doubtless as busy with
his conjectures as I was in respect to the turn
which was evidently taking place in the proceed-
ings. The Superintendent of Police was absent
for about a quarter of an hour ; and on his return
to the room, he again whispered to the Coroner,
as well as to the Mayor, who had just entered.
The result of this whispering was that the Super-
intendent again left the room ; and again were we
all plunged into a state of the utmost suspense.

This did not however last very long on the present
occasion : for at the expiration of a few minutes
the Superintendent reappeared, accompanied by
Mr. Smithson. I at once perceived that Smith-
son's countenance was of a deadly pallor ; and it
was with a sort of sudden galvanic start that I
said to myself, " Good heavens ! can it be possible
that suspicion has fallen in this quarter ?"

Still Smithson did not appear to be in custody:
the Superintendent had no hold upon him ; and
for a few moments the most breathless suspense
again prevailed. Smithson was directed to pro-
ceed to the spot where the former witnesses had
stood; and I perceived that he fidgetted a great
deal with his handkerchief and had an air of un-
easiness. He wore his blue spectacles; and his
upper lip, which sank in on account of the loss of
his teeth, was quivering— as indeed was his lower
one also.

The Coroner asked him his name, his avocation,
and his address ; and he gave precisely the same
answers which he had previously given to the
Mayor : but it struck me that he glanced anxiously
towards myself — though I could not bo sure, as
his eyes were concealed by his spectacles. Henley
and the other persons who had hitherto remained
in the commercial room, had followed the Super-
intendent and Smithson into the apartment where
the investigation was being held ; and Henley,
coming up to me, asked in a whisper, " Has any.
thing transpired, my lord ?"

" Something, evidently," I replied : " but what
it is I am at a loss to conjecture."

"Tiie Superintendent came into the commercial
room," continued Henley, " and informed Smithson
that he must go before the Coroner. Heaven for-
bid that I should prejudge any one ! — but it cer-
tainly struck me that Smithson's manner was very
peculiar, and that his countenance turned in a way
that I shall never forget."

"Hush!" I said, "the proceedings are being
renewed !"

"Something has transpired," resumed the
Coroner, still addressing himself to Smithson,
" which will be immediately placed in evidence,
and for which I am justified in seeking explana-
tions."

The railway porter who had brought the note,
was now desired to stand forward ; and on being
sworn, he deposed as follows : —

" That gentleman " — indicating Smithson — " has
been several times to the station to inquire about
his lost luggage. It was telegraphed for; and
some luggage which had gone on to York came
back by an up-train early this morning. It con-
sisted of a trunk, a carpet- bair, and a leather hat-
box. The label had come ofl' the trunk ; and by
some accident the cord itseli got unfastened. I
was lifting the trunk by the cord, when it came
completely oflf : the trunk fell— the lock was broken
by the shock — and the lid flew open. I looked to
see whether anything inside was damaged, — when
I was surprised to see what its contents were.
Thinking, however, it was no business of mine—
and being afraid of an accusation that I had forced
open the box for improper purposes — I immediately
corded it up again, and said nothing of the acci-
dent to any other person at the station. The gen-
tleman was then fetched from the hotel to identify
his luggage. Ever since the morning I have been

400

JOSEPH 'WTXMOT ; OH, THE MEMOIES OV A SLLST-SEBYANT.

thinking^ on the su'njpct : it made an impression on
my luind : I felt uueHST— and at length I went
and told the station-master everything that had
happened. He at once directed me to come here
and give the information : but first of all he wrote
down in a book what I communicated — and he
Bent a copy in a note to the Coroner."

The railway porter stood aside: and the Super-
intendent of Police then stepped forward.

" In consequence of the information contained
in that note," he said, "I have been up-stairs to
the room occupied by Mr. Smithson in the hotel ;
and I have examined hia luggage. The trunk eon-
tains nothing but rubbish — hay, old rags, and a
few logs of wood for the purpose of giving it a
certain weight. The carpet-bag contains some
very mean and wretched apparel, inserted therein
to stuff it out and make a show. The hat-box —
which was fastened with a padlock, as was also the
carpet-bag — contains nothing."

The evidence of the Superintendent produced a
great sensation, and certainly tended to confirm
the suspicion which had naturally been floating in
my mind from the moment that Stnithson was
brought into the room. He seemed very much
confused — held down his head— and fidgetted more
and more with hie handkerchief.

" Perhaps," said the Coroner, " you may choose
to volunteer some explanation : but you are not
compelled to do so. It is however my duty to
state that if you speak, whatsoever you say will
be taken down to be used as circumstances may
direct."

" I have nothing to say," answered Smithson :
" I decline giving any explanation."

The Superintendent whispered to a couple of his
constables, and immediately quitted the room. The
two constables placed themselves near the door ;
and I therefore felt convinced that Smithson was
for the present a prisoner. The Coroner conversed
in whispers with the Mayor : the proceedings were
again suspended. Twenty minutes thus elapsed —
during which Smithson's uneasiness continued
despite the visible efforts he made to regain his
self- possession. At length the Superintendent came
back to the room ; and he was accompanied by the
medical man who had already given his evidence,
but who had left the hotel immediately afterwards.
"Walking straight up to Smithson, the Superin-
tendent laid his hand upon his shoulder, saying,
" I now formally arrest you on suspicion of being
the murderer in the case under investigation."

Smithson gasped, as if to recover the breath
which was departing from him : he staggered and
sank upon a seat. The announcement that he was
a prisoner was nothing more than was anticipated
under the circumstances : but still it produced a
certain sensati n.

" I have made another and closer inspection of
the prisoner's room," said the Superintendent j
"and I have discovered an object which decided
me upon taking him into custody. It is this."

He produced a razor from a piece of paper in
which it was wrapped ; and he handed it to the
Coroner, — while a shudder swept through the
frame of almost everybody, I believe, who caught
a glimpse of the weapon ; for there was something
horrible in looking upon the instrument by which
a human life had doubtless been so cruelly taken
away. The medical man deposed that the stains

which were visible inside the handle, were recently
created, and that they were those of human blood.
The edge of the weapon was also completely
turned, as if it had been drawn over some hard
resisting substance — no doubt the bone of the de-
ceased victim's neck.

It appeared from what the Superintendent now
proceeded to explain, that he had found the razor
up the chimney in the prisoner's room : he had
cleansed off the soot, and had submitted the wea-
pon to the examination of the surgeon, who had
easily recognised the blood-stains, which were too
extensive to have been produced by any little flow
that there might have been from cutting the chin
during the process of shaving. Besides which, it
was natural to suppose that no one would close a
razor after that process without wiping it. The
superintendent desired the coroner's permission to
conduct the prisoner to an adjoining room to un-
dergo a personal examination; and Smithson was
accordingly removed. During his absence, which
lasted about a quarter of an hour, the coroner and
the mayor conversed with Henley and myself on
the turn which the proceedings were taking ; and
we were informed that a telegraphic message had
been sent up to London that it might be ascer-
tained whether the prisoner really dwelt at the
address which he had given. On Smithson's re-
appearance he looked most dreadfully crestfallen ;
while the countenances of the Superintendent and
the constable denoted that facts of additional im-
portance had been ascertained. I will explain
what these were, without having recourse to the
formal manner in which they were described by
the chief official. The prisoner, on being removed
to a private room, was ordered to strip himself;
and in spite of his remonstrance, he had to undergo
the process. It was found that he had on two
shirts — the upper one being clean and perfectly
new, and which he admitted to have bought on
the preceding evening : the under one was satu-
rated with blood. It was evident that he had not
merely wiped his hands upon this under-shirt after
having accomplished the dreadful deed, but that
the blood of his victim must have spirted over it.
In the fob of his trousers bank-notes to the
amount of nearly ninety pounds, were discovered ;
while in his purse he had but a few shillings.

Such was the evidence now tendered by the
Superintendent; and the coroner demanded of
Smithson whether he had any questions to ask the
witness. The prisoner did not however speak;
the Coroner inquired what were the relative situa-
tions of the prisoner's room and that chamber
where the tragedy had taken place. He was in-
formed that the two apartments opened from the
same passage, with three other small rooms be-
tween them.

The landlady now sent in an intimation that she
wished to make a certain statement ; and she was
accordingly introduced to the room. She was a
middle-aged woman; and was much affected and
horrified by the tragedy which had taken place
within the walls of her establishment. She said
that on the previous evening, before the exchange
of rooms was resolved upon, the prisoner had
strolled into the bar as if for the purpose of chat-
ting ; and he remarked, " So you've got the Earl
of Eqcleston here ? Where the deuce are you
going to put his lordsLip ?" — The landlady an-

JOSEPH WILMOT; OH, THE MEMOIRS OP A MAN^-SEBVANT,

pwered that UDfortunately she had only one room
vacant at the time when I arrived at her hotel,
and she specified its number and situation. The
prisoner then talked on other matters — and shortly
afterwards withdrew from the bar to ascend into
the commercial room.

Such was the deposition made by the lanrllady;
and it seemed to afford a horrible confirmation to
my previous suspicion that I had been marked out
as the villain's intended victim. Perhaps, however
(I thought to myself) it was really only through
curiosity at the time tbat he sought to learn from
the landlady where I was to be located ; but that
the subsequent display of all the bank notes in my
pocket-book when I gave my subscription to the
fund for the destitute family, had put into the
miscreant's bead the devilish idea of murdering
and robbing me.

The Coroner now proceeded to sum up ; and in
the course of bis address be stated the grounds on
103

which the jury might, if they thought fit, deliver
a verdict against the accused.

" If seeking to follow the prisoner in the exe-
cution of a murderous purpose," said the Coroner,
" we may suppose that be issued from his own
chamber with nothing on but the single garment
which has been found saturated with blood:
and that this was a precaution which he took to
avert the chance of detection. For that chance
would have been great if he had gone in his
clothes, and if they had received those sanguine
marks which would have spoken in murder's loud
tongue against him. He knew not bow to dispose
of the stained garment : he feared to disapparej
himself of it and consign it to his carpet-bag; and
therefore he kept it upon his person — and he
covered it with the clean linen which concealed
it."

When the Coroner had ceased, the jury did not
deliberate many moments before a verdict of

402

JOSEPH WILMOT; OE, THE MEMOIBS OP A MAN-SBRVANT.

" Wilful Murder " was returned against the pri-
soner,— who was at once handcuffed and removed
to the town e;aol.

On the following morning he was taken before
the Mayor for a further examination. All the
evidence of the preceding day was recapitulated ;
and additional testimony was produced. It was
discovered that the bank notes found in his fob
had actually belonged to the deceased Dobbins,
who had procured them from the bank in that
town the day after his arrival. An answer had
been received to the telegraphic message sent up
to London ; and it was to the effect that no such
person was known at the bouse in Stamford Street
which the prisoner had named.^ A Bow Street de-
tective had come down by an early train, on ac-
count of something peculiar which had struck him
on hearing a description of the prisoner's personal
appearance : for such a description had been sent
up to the metropolitan police-authorities imme-
diately after Smithson's committal on the Coroner's
warrant.

I was not present at the examination before the
Mayor : I had already seen enough— indeed far too
much of the diabolic murderer. I had the painful
knowledge that I had been for some time in his
company after he had committed the deed. But
what took place before the Mayor, was subse-
quently communicated to me ; and I novr proceed
to lay it before my readers.

It was towards the close of the examination
that the Bow Street detective arrived from Lon-
don. He at once repaired to the Guildhall, where
the Mayor sat ; and approaching the dock, took
a view of the prisoner.

" Do you know him, officer ?" inquired the
Mayor, when the detective bad announced him-
self.

"Yes, your worship," was the immediate re-
sponse. " I know him in spite of his disguise.
He is a bad character — long known about London,
and also in the provinces. His right name is not
Smitbson : it is Thomas Taddy."

Yes, reader — the murderer of the unfortunate
haberdasher was none other than Lanover's accom-
plice in the assassination of poor Mr. Delmar.
Ko wonder that when I Urst saw the false Smith-
son at the hotel, I should have fancied that we had
met before: but on the other band it was not
astonishing that I should have been so utterly un-
able to establish the identity in my mind. The
hair of the man, naturally of a dirty sandy white-
ness, had been dyed black — his eyebrows likewise :
he had lost his lashes by disease— and this circum-
stance, added to the loss of his upper teeth, had
80 changed the expression of his countenance as to
render it all the more difficult to be recognised.
Then too, the patches of sandy whiskers which be
used to wear, were shaven completely off: while
the blue spectacles constituted an additional
barrier against detection's keenest glance. But
alill, as the reader has seen, I had at first a glim-
mering notion that I had seen this man before —
although, as I have just said, the change in his
appearance was so great as to have prevented a
complete recognition. His voice had altered with
the loss of his teeth ; and all the time he was at
the hotel from the first moment he recognised in
me the one whom he had known a few years back
a poor friendless boy in the metropolis, he had

spoken in subdued accents and had done his best
to disguise his voice.

But there was one incident on which I could
not help looking with a species of solemn awe. It
was that when I awoke in the middle of the night
of the murder, I had experienced that depression
for which I could not account — that despondency
which I could not shake off; and at the same time
the foul deed of assassination was being accom-
plished ! "What mysterious influence could this
have been that was thus shed upon me ? I could
not explain it to myself: but doubtless there are
certain persons to whom, in particular circum-
stances, heaven concedes a greater susceptibility as
it were of feeling the unknown and incompre-
hensible effects of deeds that may be simulta-
neously taking place elsewhere.

The wretched murderer was committed for trial;
and his victim was buried in the churchyard of
the town where he thus met his death. I was
anxious to escape from that atmosphere of crime;
and I decided that I would not — at least for the
present — think anything more of the property
which I had come thither expressly to see. I re-
turned to London, and narrated to Annabel the
details of the frightful event, which I had however
previously mentioned in the letter I had written
to her from the hotel. She was sufficiently ac-
quainted with all my earlier history to know who
the murderer was when the name of Taddy was
mentioned : but as yet, be it understood, she was
ignorant that this wretched creature and Mr.
Lanover had been the iniquitous authors of the
death of my benefactor Mr. Delmar.

The murderer's trial took place in due course :
the evidence against him was conclusive — and he
was sentenced to death. The particulars I am
now about to give, were gleaned from the news-
papers. It appeared that when in Court the
wretched man looked utterly dispirited, and his
demeanour was that of a fearful dejection. When
the awful sentence of the law was pronounced
against him, he clasped his hands in mental agony,
and then fell down senseless in the dock, whence
he was borne away by the officers who had him in
custody. A few days afterwards he made a full
confession of all his crimes to the chaplain of the
prison; and in his fearful narrative was included
the murder of Mr. Delmar. According to the
chaplain's account, be became completely penitent:
but on the morning of his execution so completely
was he overcome by an appalling terror, that it
was literally necessary to carry him to the spot
where the fatal gibbet was erected. Almost life-
less was the state of the wretched murderer when
the last hideous preliminaries for his death were
accomplished ; and it might be said that from a
swoon he passed into the world which lies beyond
the limit of this mortal existence.

When I first read in the newspapers that the
man's soul was yielding after the trial to so mortal
a terror, I foresaw that he would make a confes-
sion of his past iniquities, and that the moment
was near at hand when the mystery attending the
late Mr. Delmar's murder was to be cleared up to
the world. I therefore took precautions to enable
me to break that hideous tale as delicately as pos-
sible to those whose ears it would appal and wbose
hearts it would shock. I sent a trusty agent to
the town where the murderer lay in gaol at the

JOSEPH WHMOT; OH, THB MEMOIHS OP A MAK-SERVANT.

403

time, with instructions to my emissary to hasten
back to me the very moment he should have
learned that such a confession was made. By
these means I was enabled to forestall the news-
papers as it were, and thus prevent the horrible
revelation from burstin:j suddenly on the know-
ledge of Annabel as well as on that of Mr. and
Mrs. Howard. My messenger came : he reported
to me the fact that the confession had been made ;
and I at once entered on my painful task. I told
Annabel how my own father had instigated Lan-
over and Taddy to accomplish that dre.tdful deed ;
and my amiable Countess was afflicted and shocked
at what she thus heard. But throwing her arms
about my neck, she said, " It is painful and
horrible, my dearest husband, to reflect that the
author of one's being could have yielded to bo
much guilt : but no dishonour redounds upon
yourself — nor will the world think the less of you
on account of your father's crime. If the sins of
the sires are visited upon the children, you at
least, in the misfci-tunes which for a period of
your life you experienced, were held by heaven to
be sufficiently chastened : for prosperity and happi-
ness have since been your lot."

Annabel said many other tender and consoling
things ; and I felt how exquisite is the comfort
which the love of a devoted wife can impart. I
embraced her fondly j and entering my carriage,
at once proceeded to Delmar Manor. There I
found Mr. and Mrs. Howard ; and I broke to
thorn the intelligence in the same way that I bad
just been imparting it to Annabel. Edith was
painfully afflicted at this vivid conjuring-up of all
the horrible circumstances which attended her
father's death years back ; and for awhile she was
unable to give utterance to a word. But at
length she grew more composed; and then both
she and her husband addressed me in terms
similar to those which had been used by Annabel.
They both thanked and applauded me for having
hitherto kept a secret which it was so painful to
reveal ; and Edith said, " No wonder that my
poor sister should have proved an altered being
from that memorable night when she learnt the
appalling fact from, her husband's lips, until the
moment when she surrendered up her breath for
ever 1"

These painful duties being discharged, I very
speedily proposed to Annabel another visit to the
Continent : for after the frightful publicity given
by the newspapers to a crime which cast such a
stigma upon my own father's memory, I was
anxious to leave England for awhile. My amiable
Countess comprehended my motive, and at once
signified her assent. "We accordingly repaired to
France : but without making any stay in the
French capital, we visited the principal cities and
towns of the southern Departments. We jour-
neyed on into Italy, to spend a few weeks with the
Count and Countess of Livorno — at whose man-
sion, I need scarcely add, we experienced the
kindest and most welcome reception.

CHAPTEE CLXI.

IHB TISCOXJNTE33 CENCI.

I WAS one day riding on horseback in company
with the Comt of Livorno, and we had just en-
tered one of the most beautiful avenues in the vale
of Arno — when an elegant open carriage, drawn
by a pair of beautiful horses, came in sight. An
old geptleman of very venerable appearance, and a
lady of about six and twenty, were the occupants.
The coachman and footman, seated upon the box,
were clad in elegant liveries : there were two out-
riders ; and the entire equipage was one which
could not fail to arrest the attention. The lady to
whom I have alluded, was remarkably hands jme —
with a splendid figure, somewhat inclined to ew-
honpoint. She was evidently an Italian : her com-
plexion had the delicate duskiness, and her lar;:e
dark eyes the fire, of the sunny south. Her
strongly marked brows and a certain expression
about the lips, appeared to denote a masculine de-
cision of character. She was superbly dressed ;
and at the first glance it was easy to perceive that
she was proud of the commanding beauty of which
she was so conscious. Her companion was an old
gentleman, as I have said ; and his appearance was
not merely venerable, but likewise distinguished
and aristocratic ; and in his button-hole he wore
the ribbon of a Tuscan military order.

The carriage stopped by a command issued from
the old gentleman's lips, as the Count and myself
met it ; and after a brief conversation with the
gentleman and the lady, the Count of Livorno in-
troduced me to them. I then learnt that the old
gentleman was the Marquis of Falieri, and that
the lady was the Viscountess Cenci. They both
expressed themselves much pleased at making my
acquaintance — and begged that they might be
permitted the honour of calling on the Countess of
Eccleston. I gave a suitable response ; and rode
on with my friend the Count of Livorno.

" There la a tale connected with a fellow-
countryman of yours and that lady," said the
Count, when we were beyond earshot of the occu-
pants of the carriage, " which I have been several
times about to narrate, but which circumstances
have on each occasion transpired to banish from
my memory. Do you happen to know the name
o/sir William Stratford ?"

" To the best of my recollection," I answered,
" the name has never before met my ears. Is he
a Baronet or a Knight? — for as you are aware,
we have in England those two grades which both
alike confer the distinction oiSir as a prefix to the
Christian name."

" I am unable to answer your question, my dear
Eccleston," replied the Count of Livorno. " But
let me tell you something about that gentleman
and lady to whom I have just introduced you. And
first of all I will make you acquainted with a fact
which I do not think you could have gathered from

the brief discourse which has just taken place ■

I mean that the Viscountess Cenci is the Marquis
of Falieri's daughter."

"I surmised as much," I said, "from a certain
family likeness existing between them — although I
should conclude, from the different expressions of

JOSEPH WIIMOT; OB, THE MEMOIHa OF A MAN-SEKVAKT.

their countenances, that their dispositions and cha-
racters are very dissimilar."

" True !" rejoined the Count : " for although the
Marquis of Falieri has been a soldier and holds the
rank of a General, he is one of the most amiable
and kind-hearted of men. He did not marry until
somewhat late in life ; and this daughter was the
only issue of that alliance. The Marquis lost his
wife soon after the birth of that daughter ; and he
devoted himself to the duty of rearing his mother-
less child with as much tenderness as possible.
He is very rich ; and when his daughter grew up
to the marriageable state, she had numberless
suitors for her band. Her own choice fell upon
the Viscount Cenci ; and this was approved of by
her father — for the Viscount was in all respects a
most eligible aspirant to the young lady's hand.
He belonged to an excellent family — his character
was good — his disposition amiable — and his fortune
immense. About seven years ago — the lady being
then nineteen — she was conducted by the Viscount
to the altar. Three years ago he was consigned to
a vault in the very church where his nuptials had
been solemnized : he died after a brief illness-
leaving his widow in possession of his immense
fortune, and to every appearance disconsolate for
his loss. Her father went to reside with her ; and
indeed they have lived together down to the pre-
sent time."

" I presume therefore," I said, " that she is a
dutiful and affectionate daughter "

" You shall hear," interrupted the Count of
Xivorno. " About four or five months ago Sir
William Stratford made his appearance in Flo-
rence. He is a man of about six or seven years
older than yourself— and very good-looking. His
manners are distinguished : he has travelled much
— he speaks the Italian language fluently— and he
possesses great conversational powers. Indeed, in
some sense he may be termed one of those fasci-
nating men who are best adapted to make an im-
pression upon the female heart. How he got into
the best Florentine society, I have not learnt : for
I was absent with my Countess at our estate near
Leghorn when Sir William Stratford first made his
appearance in the Tuscan capital : but I presume
that he must have brought letters of introduction
to some good families."

"Or perhaps he may have been introduced," I
suggested, " by the British Minister at your royal
uncle's Court ?"

"No," responded the Count of Livorno: "it
was not so — as I shall presently have to explain
to you. Certain however it is that Sir Vv''illiam
Stratford did get into the very best society ; and
in the brilliant saloons of fashion he became intro-
duced to the widowed Viscountess Cenci. He
speedily grew assiduous in his attentions towards
her ; and she who had hitherto refused the offers
of several distinguished personages who sought to
lead her again into the matrimonial sphere, seemed
to favour the suit of Sir William Stratford. From
the first, however, her father never liked him :
there was something about him which made the
old man suspect that he was not an individual
calculated to ensure his daughter's happiness.
When therefore the Marquis perceived that the
Viscountess appeared to listen with a willing ear
to the tender language of Sir William, he spoke
his mind freely to her ; and then for the first time

the daughter displayed that spirit which seeioed
determined to assert its independence of the pater-
nal advice or wishes. The Marquis consulted me ;
and I recommended him to make inquiries as to
the character, the family, and the pecuniary means
of Sir William Stratford, At the request of the
Marquis, I spoke to the Eritish Envoy upon the
subject : but his Excellency informed me that he
had no knowledge of Sir William Stratford beyond
having occasionally met him at some of the aris-
tocratic houses which he frequented. I did not
like to press the point any further ; and there the
conversation ended. At length Sir William pro-
posed to the Viscountess ; and she accepted the
offer. Her father the Marquis thereupon sought
an opportunity of speaking privately to Sir Wil-
liam Stratford, He addressed him as one gentle-
man would accost another under such circum-
stances. He said that he had no doubt Sir
William was everything he represented himself —
but that being a foreigner, and a stranger as it
were in Italy, he could not deem himself insulted
at being asked to furnish proofs that he was an
eligible suitor for the hand of the Viscountess. Sir
William Stratford answered with all that affability
of manner which he knows so well how to display :
he declared that the Marquis was perfectly right
in thus questioning him, and that he himself
should have volunteered explanations even if they
had not been asked. He then spoke of his family,
which he represented to be an old and honourable
one — of his estates in England, which he declared
to be extensive — and of various other matters to
prove his respectability : but beyond all these
verbal assertions he proffered no evidence of the
truth of his story. In a word, he brought matters
to such a point that the Marquis could not press
him any further without either appearing rude or
else suspicious : for Sir William has a certain off-
hand, half-dashing, half-wheedling way with him,
which renders it impossible to keep him fixed
upon any particular topic. The Marquis was dis-
satisfied with the result of the interview; and he
stated this much to his daughter. The Viscountess
was highly incensed at her father's interference :
she indignantly rejected the idea that anything
suspicious attached itself to Sir William Stratford :
she considered that he had been insulted by the
questions put to him ; and she expressed her fears
lest he should break off the contemplated match.
In a word, my dear Eccleston, the Viscountess
herself is infatuated with this man ; and her father
is miserable on account of the suspicions and mis-
givings which are haunting his mind. These may
be after all utterly without foundation, and Sir
William Stratford may prove to be everything
which he represents himself: but on the other
hand, it is quite possible that he is nothing more
than an adventurer angling after the immensu
fortune which the Viscountess Cenci possesses.
The preparations for the nuptials are now being
made, and I believe that they will be solemnized
about a fortnight hence, i( nothing in the mean-
while shall transpire to prevent or postpone
them."

" There is certainly something suspicious," I
observed, " in the fact that Sir William Stratford
did not, when pressed by the Marquis, refer his
lordship to his solicitor or banker in London — or
to any of those sources of information with which

JOSEPH WITiMOT; OH, THE MKMOrES OP A MAN-SEEVANT.

405

gentlemen of property and social standing must
invariably have some connexion. Nevertheless, it
would be wrong for me to throw out anything
which might tend unjustly to disparage the cha-
racter of one with whom I am totally unacquainted.
Indeed, I have known Englishmen who entertained
such a high sense of honour and such a strong
feeling in respect to their own consequence, that
merely to hint at the necessity for a reference
would give them mortal ofiFence, — persons, in a
word, who being fully conscious of their own in-
tegrity, cannot understand how others should seek
to have substantial and business-like proofs of
it."

" Some such ideas as these have occasionally
flitted through my own mind," said the Count of
Livorno ; " and therefore I have found it difficult
to advise the Marquis of Palieri how to act. He
is passionately fond of his daughter ; and it would
break the old man's heart it' she were to throw
herself away on a mere adventurer. Indeed, even
supposing that Sir William Stratford is everything
he represents himself, the match would prove but
little satisfactory to the old nobleman ; for he has
conceived the positive opinion that the Englishman
is not calculated to ensure his daughter's happi-
ness."

"Where does this Sir William Stratford reside ?
and what is his style of living ?" I asked.

" He has resided at one of the principal hotels
in the city," responded the Count of Livorno :
"he has lived in excellent style — and so far as I
could learn, has paid all his liabilities regularly
and liberally. Indeed he has every appearance
of a man of wealth. He is certainly gay and dis-
sipated; and shortly after his arrival ia. Florence,
rumours were wafted from Rome to the effect that
he had played deep in that capital. It is these cir-
cumstances which have led the old Marquis to
view the contemplated alliance with apprehension ;
and therefore his opinion is not altogether a preju-
dice. But then, on the other hand, there are
plenty of men who are gay and extravagant during
their bachelor career, but who become steady and
well conducted when settling down into married
life. However, I should like you, my dear Eccles-
ton, to see this countryman of your's, so that you
might be enabled to form some opinion concerning
hiui ; and in the course of conversation you might
lead him to talk of his family, his estates, and so
forth "

" What opportunity shall we have of seeing him
soon ?" I inquired.

" To-morrow evening the Viscountess Cenci has
her usual reception : you heard what her ladyship
said — that she should be happy to include you
amongst the circle of her visitors ; and indeed she
is certain to call and pay her respects to Lady
Ecclestoa in the course of to-day or to-morrow.
You can therefore accompany me to tho Cenci
mansion to-morrow evening; and there you will
no doubt sec Sir William Stratford."

The conversation soon turned into another
channel ; and after riding through some of the
most beautiful parts of the vale of Arno, we re-
entered Florence at about the time when the
Countess of Livorno and my own wife were wont
to take an airing in the carriage, or walk in the
grounds of the ducal palace, to which we all had
free admission. On the afternoon cf the day of

which I am writing, the ladies preferred a walk ;
and we accordingly repaired to the grounds just
alluded to. We had not been long there, when we
beheld the Marquis of Falieri and the Viscountess
Cenci advancing: they immediately accosted us —
and the Viscountess was introduced to Annabel.
The two parties joined in the ramble ; and I found
that the Viscountess could render her conversation
exceedingly agreeable, and that its powers were of
a versatile description. She could discourse on
literature and the fine arts, as well as on the opera,
the fashions, and other light subjects : she was evi-
dently a woman of strong mind ; and I was there-
fore all the more astonished that she had yielded
to so complete an infatuation in respect to this Sir
William Stratford of whom I had that day heard
so much.

While we were walking through the beautiful
gardens of the ducal palacej I perceived a gentle-
man and lady of distinguished appearance roaming
at a little distance. At the first glimpse which I
obtained of the gentleman's countenance I thought
that he was not unknown to me ; and I asked the
Count of Livorno if he knew who this couple were :
for I should observe that it was only persons of rank
and distinction who could obtain the privilege of
admission to the ducal pleasure-grounds. The
Count was not acquainted with that couple : but
he remarked that they were evidently English,
and were no doubt recent arrivals, as he did not re-
member to have seen them before. Presently they
passed us; and now that I had a full view of their
countenances the recognition was complete. They
were Lord and Lady Kavenshill.

The reader will recollect that the old Lord and
Lady Eavenshill had died some time back— that
the present nobleman, when plain Mr. Walter, had
married a Miss Jenkinson, who was an heiress —
and that by means of her fortune he was enabled
to resuscitate the ancient splendours of the family
to which he belonged. I had never seen either him
or his wife since I was a livery-page in his father's
service ; and though years had elapsed since then,
yet neither he nor her ladyship were so much
altered as to prevent me from now recognising
them. Lady Ravenshill was eminently handsome :
his lordship, though having lost the slenderness of
youth, was of a fine commanding figure.

Scarcely had they passed us, when the British
Envoy entered tho grounds ; and accosting Lord
and Lady Kavenshill, ho conversed with them for
a few minutes. His Excellency then advanced
towards our party ; and after an interchange of
the usual compliments, he requested mo to step
aside with him for a moment. This I did : and his
Excellency then said, " Lord and Lady Ravenshill,
to whom I have just been speaking, are most anxi-
ous for the honour of being introduced to your
lordship. They inquired of me who the numerous
party were that they beheld walking in the
grounds ; and when I mentioned your lordship's
name, they evinced signs of great pleasure, — both
immediately proffering that request which I have
HOW conveyed to you."

I at once assented to the proposition ; and taking
the Minister's arm, was conducted by him towards
Lord and Lady Eavenshill, who on their part ad-
vanced to receive us. The introduction was effected
for form's sake— though in reality no such intro-
duction was needed, for full well did we know each

406

JOSEPH WIIMOT; OE, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAK-SEEVANT.

Other. The Envoy withdrew to rejoin the party I
had just left; and when he was beyond earshot,
Lord Eavenshill, taking my hand, said with much
emotion, " My dear Earl of Eccleston, will you
honour me by reckoning me amongst the number
of your friends ? and will you permit her ladyship
to be presented to your own amiable Countess, of
whom we have heard so much ?"

I answered in a suitable manner; and Lady
Eavenshill said, " We have been for a long time
on the Continent : but we have frequently observed
to each other that immediately on our return to
England, we would do ourselves the pleasure of
calling at Eccleston House."

"And perhaps some day," added the nobleman,
" we shall have the honour of entertaining your
Lordship and your Countess at Charlton Hall in
Devonshire. Nothing, I can assure you, would
afford us greater delight !"

Although there was no positive allusion to the
past, there was a certain significancy in this
speech — yet as delicate as it was well meant.
It was as much as to say that where in other
times I had lived in a menial capacity, I should
be made welcome as an honoured guest; and
it likewise distinctly reminded me that both
Lord and Lady Eavenshill remembered with
gratitude the little service I had rendered them at
the time when the machinations of the old lord
were tending to involve his son in the hated matri-
monial meshes which were spread by the Eoustead
family to ensnare him.

" You know perhaps, my dear Earl," continued
Lord Eavenshill, " that I regained possession of
Charlton Hall and the Devonshire estates after my
father's death. We have been living upon the
Continent for some time, because we are both fond
of continental life and of visiting the principal
European cities. But we have recently been talk-
ing of making a speedy return to England, and
devoting more of our time than we have hitherto
done to the welfare of those who people our
estates. Has your lordship been lately in Devon-
shire ?"

"Not for many years," I replied. "Ah! by
the bye, you remember, perhaps, the Eev. Mr.
Howard ?"

" Certainly," exclaimed Lord Eavenshill, — " the
Vicar of Charlton? He married an amiable
lady "

" And that lady is my own aunt," I replied, —
" my deceased mother's sister."

"Yes — now that I recollect, it must be so!"
said Lord Eavenshill. " And talking of the per-
sons who were in that neighbourhood at the time
of our first acquaintance, do you happen to remem-
ber a certain Sir Malcolm Wavenham who used to
visit at the HpU ?"

"Perfectly," I responded, with difficulty sup-
pressing a sigh as I thought of my Annabel's long
deceased sister, the beautiful but erring Violet.

"All Sir Malcolm's estates have for some years
past been incorporated with my own," continued
Lord Eavenshill. " I purchased them "

" And what has become of Sir Malcolm P" I in-
quired.

" I know not," he responded. " Profligate and
extravagant. Sir Malcolm Wavenham ran through
his fortune— was plunged into difficulties — I believe
that he was even for a while the inmate of a

debtor's prison at all events his estates were

brought to the hammer; and I purchased them.
JBut what has since become of him I have not the
slightest notion."

We discoursed relative to other persons who
used to reside, or still resided in the neighbourhood
of Charlton Hall; and then I conducted Lord and
Lady Eavenshill towards my own party whom I
had so recently left. Introductions were effected ;
and I speedily perceived that the amiable Lady
Eavenshill and my own charming Annabel were
destined to form a firm friendship.

After breakfast on the following morning, I was
proceeding alone and on foot, through one of the
principal streets of Florence towards a tradesman's
shop where I had certain purchases to make, when
whom should I encounter but Mr. Tennant, the
London solicitor? He was not aware that I at
the time was on a visit to Florence; while of all
people in the world he was about the last whom I
should have expected to meet at such a distance
from the British metropolis — especially as he was
a man well stricken in years. I should observe
that he was not my own regular attorney, although
I had had constant dealings with him in his capa-
city of solicitor to the late Sir Matthew Hesel-
tine ; and moreover when we were in London, he
was a frequent and always welcome visitor at
Eccleston House. I asked him what business had
brought him to Florence: but before he replied,
he looked somewhat significantly over his shoulder
— and I then perceived that a man, unmistakably
belonging to the British nation, had halted at
some little distance. This individual was a stout
powerfully built person ; and though well dressed,
was evidently not quite a member of the same
sphere of society in which Mr. Tennant himself
moved.

" That man," said the solicitor, taking me by
the button-hole, and speaking in a tone of mys-
terious confidence, " is a Bow Street officer."

"A Bow Street officer?" I exclaimed in asto-
nishment. "And what on earth are you doing
with a Bow Street officer in Florence ?"

" I will tell your lordship," answered Mr. Ten-
nant. " Let us walk on slowly together."

We accordingly proceeded along the street, —
the officer following at a respectful distance ; and
Mr. Tennant gave me the ensuing explanation : —

"You know, my dear Earl, that solicitors have
clients of all sorts, though some of us endeavour
to keep our connexion as respectable as possible.
Amongst my clients is a money-lender; and this
person has been most grossly defrauded by an
Englishman of some rank and position. Mr.
Ward— for that is the name of the money-lender
—had for some years been accustomed to advance
large sums to the culprit of whom I am speaking,
and no doubt had reaped a rich harvest from his
usurious dealings. Then came a period during
which the borrower was nowhere to be found, al-
though he was indebted in a considerable sum to
Mr. Ward. At length — it may be about a twelve-
month back— the gentleman suddenly transpires;
and entering Mr. Ward's office, he tells him some
tale to account for his long disappearance: but in-
asmuch as he concluded by stating that he had
now the means of liquidating Mr. Ward's claim,
the latter was quickly disarmed of his resentment.
The gentleman proceeded to tell another long story,

JOSEPH ■WILMOT; OR THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT.

407

with the details of which I need not trouble your
lordship : but the gist of it was this, — that he had
won a very 'Considerable sum of a country Squire
on a particular horse-race, and that he was to
have the Squire's bills to the amount of five thou-
sand pounds. He showed several letters in proof
of this statement ; and informed Mr. Ward how
he could learn all particulars in respect to the
Squire's solvency without suffering the Squire
himself to know that such inquiries were being
made, for the gentleman represented the affair to
be of a very delicate character. You see, my
lord," added Mr. Tennant, "I call the person a
gentleman for the sake of distinction, because I
don't want to mention names for the present."

"I admire your characteristic caution," I ob-
served, laughing: " though I certainly cannot
understand why you should have any punctilious-
ness in reference to an individual who, as you have
already told me, had committed a gvoss fraud."

" I will explain to your lordship," continued Mr.
Tennant. " The upshot of the matter was that Mr.
Ward made the inquiries and was perfectly satisfied
of the respectability and the pecuniary position of
the country Squire. A few days afterwards the
gentleman brought the bills, to the amount of five
thousand pounds : Mr. Ward deducted his own
original claim, together with all sorts of interest,
commission, and discount, — giving the gentleman
the difference, to the extent of a clear three thou-
sand pounds. 'No suspicion was entertained as to
the character of the bills until they fell due, —
when .they proved to be forgeries. The Squire
had never betted upon any such race, and had
never lost a shilling to the individual who pre-
tended to have won of him. Mr. Ward instanta-
neously came to consult me; and I advised him to
make as little noise as possible about the matter in
the first instance ; for all that he wanted was the
money of which he had been swindled; and as the
swindler was well connected, his relations might
possibly compromise tlie matter on his behalf. The
relatives were accordingly communicated with —
some negotiations ensued— but they ended in no-
tbing. At length, a little while back, Mr, Ward
obtained information of a certain character — the
result of which is my present visit to Florence,
where I arrived last night."

"And this Bow Street officer who is accompany-
ing you," I said, — " what use can you make of
hira in a foreign country where he has no juris-
diction P"

" The Tuscan Government will render me a cer-
tain assistance if need be," answered Mr. Tennant:
"because, inasmuch as the culprit of whom I have
been speaking travels with a false passport, he will
be turned out of the country on this fact being
made known. What, for instance, if he be shipped
on board an English vessel at Leghorn ?— my Bow
Street officer at once takes him into custody ! But
this is really not my policy: all I want is to get
back Mr. Ward's money. Therefore, if I call upon
my •gentleman, introduce the Bjw Street officer,
and represent what the alternative will be should
ha refuse to settle the business, — I think, or at
least hope that such a settlement may be effected."

" Are you sure that the man is in possession of
sufficient resources.'" I asked.

" From the information which reached Mr. |
Ward a little while back, I should be inclined to

answer in the affirmative. But as yet I really
know very little on the point: for as I have
already informed your lordship, I only arrived in
Florence last night. I am now on my way to see
the individual ; and if he will settle the business
amicably, he will save his reputation and there will
be no need to blow the whole affair to the world.
Your lordship now comprehends wherefore I am,
delicate in mentioning his name."

" Quite right," I responded. "But permit mo
to observe that if you desire the succour of power-
ful interest in respect to the expulsion of this cul-
prit from the country — I mean in case matters
have to be pushed to an extremity — I know that
you may command the assistance of the Count of
Livorno, whom you have met at my house in London.
I am staying with the Count ; and I hope you
will call upon us before you leave Florence."

Mr. Tennant thanked me ; and we separated—*
he pursuing his way in one direction, followed by
the Bow Street officer, and I proceeding in another
direction.

In the evening, at about eight o'clock, Annabel
and I accompanied our friends the Count and
Countess of Livorno to the Cenci mansion.
Lord and Lady E,avenshill had likewise received
an invitation; and we encountered them there.
The splendid saloons were brilliantly lighted, and
were decorated with garlands and festoons of the
choicest flowers. A numerous company was as-
sembled : the principal members of the Florentine
fashionable world, as well as all distinguished
foreigners who were visiting the Tuscan capital at
the time, were gathered there. The Viscountess
Cenci was magnificently attired : her dress was a
perfect blaze of diamonds— and if somewhat too
gorgeous, it nevertheless seemed well suited to
the grand style of her commanding beauty. She
looked in every sense the queen of that fairy
scene which she had conjured up: though I am
proud to be enabled to state that the more modest
and retiring, as well as more delicately enchanting
beauty of my own Annabel evidently attracted a
far greater admiration than that which was be-
stowed upon the Viseounteas Cenci. Nor did
Olivia, the Countess of Livorno, fail to produce
that sensation which a loveliness such as her'e was
so well calculated to excite ; — and the same may be
said in respect to Lady Envenshill.

On entering the brilliantly lighted saloons, '(ve
paid our respects first of all to the mistress of the
mansion; and then we turned to discourse with
her father, the venerable Marquis of Falieri. The
old nobleman was dressed in his full uniform as a
General-officer ; and though he affected that air of
gaiety which he believed to be consistent with the
scene, it was easy to perceive that a deep sorrow
lay beneath, and that affliction was gnawing at the
noble veteran's heart's-core. I looked around, in
the expeccation that my eyes would settle upon
some Englishman whom I might at once single out
as Sir William Stratford: but the Count of Li-
vorno, penetrating my thoughts, whispered in my
ear, " He has not yet made his appearance. It is
his habit to enter late on such occasions as these,
that he may come in with all the greater eclat."

The Viscountess moved through her spacious
apartments with that mingled dignity and grace
which suited her rank, her sex, and her position as
the mistress of the mansion. Her manners were

408

JOSEPH WTLMOT ; OB, THE ITEMOrBB O? A MAN-SBRTAJfT.

most affable : she had a courteous word to say to
every one whom she passed ; and when the splendid
band struck up to indicate that dancing was about
to commence, I#tfas suflFered to understand that
her ladyship was desirous of opening the ball with
me. We accordingly danced together; and the
quadrille was nearly at an end, when I suddenly
became aware of a sensation at the further ex-
tremity of the room ; apd suspecting what it was,
I glanced towards the countenance of my partner.
Tor an instant that handsome face was lighted
up with a glow of mingled pride, love, and satis-
faction, as her large dark eyes were bent upon that
far- ofi" extremity of the spacious saloon, where an
elegantly dressed gentleman was now slowly ad-
Taccing, bestowing his courteous salutations on the
guests whom he encountered there. But the next
instant the Viscountess recovered her complete
self-possession— calm, graceful, and dignified ; and
I made some observation in order to create the
impression that I had taken no special notice of
what had just passed. iJfevertheless, that tell-tale
glow upon her cheeks had made me unmistakably
aware that the elegantly dressed new-comer could
be none other than the object of her infatuatioa—
Sir William Stratford. _

CHAPTES CLXII.

siE ^^■ILLIAi^ steatfosd.

WiiE>' the dance was over, I conducted the Via.
countess to a seat ; and perceiving that Sir Wil-
liam Stratford was now gradually making his way
towards her, I bowed and retired to a distance. I
looked about for the Count of Livorno, with the
idea that the suitor of the Viscountess might pre-
sently through his medium be introduced to me —
under which circumstance I was determined to
question him as far as with propriety I might, re-
lative to his family and estates. But I could not
immediately find the Count of Livorno : another
dance was about to be commenced ; and I was en-
gdcred oa this occasion to Lady Bavenshill. Sir
William Stratford danced with the Viscountess
Cenci ; and I soon obtained a near view of him.
I looked — and looked again : I was almost certain
that I had seen that countenance before. Again I
looked at him : the conviction deepened in my mind
that the handsome profile of this Englishman was
not unknown to me. But where had I seen him ?
I could not for the life of me recollect. Lady
Eavenshill evidently began to notice that I was
abstracted and thoughtful ; and I said to her,
" That handsome distinguished-looking man, with
whom the Viscountess is dancing, is the successful
suitor for her hand; and in a few days they are to
be married."

" The circumstance appears to interest your
lordship much," said Lady Eavenshill, with a
smile.

" The truth is," I responded, " it strikes me
that I have met Sir William Stratford before : but
I cannot remember where or how."

" And this surprises you ?" exclaimed her lady-
ship, again laughing. " I -ahould imagine that
your lordship must frequently be bewildered to

identify the persons whom you meet — visitin'^
large assemblies as you do."

" There are no doubt many persons whose ac«
quaintance we slightly form, whose names we hear
and recoUect for the occasion, and of whom we
subsequently have a very dim remembrance. But
I can assure you. Lady Eavenshill," I continued,
" that in the present case it is somewhat different.
There are certain countenances which strike one as
being associated with memories that are pleasant
or memories that are unpleasant, dim and shadowy
though they may be in either case ; and on the
present occasion the countenance of that man has
inspired me with some disagreeable sensation — I
know not how to explain it— I scarcely even know
what it is."

Lady Eavenshill now surveyed Sir William
Stratford with more attention than she had
hitherto bestowed upon him ; and she said, " There
seems to be, after all, a certain fitness in the union
of that pair. Both are handsome — both endowed
with elegant manners ; and perhaps the gentlemaa
is not inferior on the score of wealth to the lady
herself?" ,

I again looked at Sir William Stratford : I
caught his profile — it seemed to grow more and
more familiar to me ; and yet for the life of me I
could not recollect why it should thus have evi.
dently occupied a cell in my brain to be vividly re«
produced when the original itself was present. A
handsome glossy moustache, and a tuft (or tw
perial) upon the chin, gave a sort of military
character to that countenance ; and Sir William's
figure was of perfect symmetry. He danced with
great elegance ; and presently, as he passed closo
by me, I caught the sound of his voice as he made
some observation to the Viscountess. That voice
was full of masculine harmony ; and methought it
was not less familiar to me than the profile itself.
The dance concluded : I promenaded with Lady
Eavenshill into an adjoining room, where I con-
signed her to the care of her husband. I was
lounging back into the grand saloon in the hope of
meeting the Count of Livorno, when I was sud-
denly struck by an observation which I heard one
gentleman make to another. These were two
Englishmen whom I had not seen before, and
whom I therefore concluded to be fresh arrivals in
Florence. One was about forty — the other a few
years his junior. They were standing a little apart
from the brilUant assemblage, and were evidently
making their comments upon the principal cha-
racters. It was the elder who was speaking at tho
instant, and whose observations had so impres-
sively struck me.

"Stratford indeed!" he contemptuously ejacu- S

lated. " I could tell a tell if I chose But why

spoil a fellow-countryman's game?"

I lingered for an instant in the neighbourhood
of these two gentlemen ; and I heard the younger
one say something about " duty ;" he also breathed
the words "put them upon their guard:'' but I
could catch nothing more of his observations.
Both the gentlemen were strangers to me ; and I
could not therefore introduce myself to them nor
join in their discourse : but I passed onward, say-
ing within myself, " Yes, I am now confident the
misgivings of the old Marquis are correct ! There's
something wrong about this Stratford : and it
would be shocking to allow the wealthy and briU

JOSEPH WILMOT; OB, THH HEMOrRa OP A MAN-SERVANT.

409

liant Viscountess to throw herself away on a mere
adventurer."

"My dear Eccleston I have been looking for
you," said the Count of Livorno, now suddenly
taking me by the arm. " I want to introduce Sir
"William Stratford to you."

" The very object for which I on my side have
been searching for you !" I responded.

I was about to explain that the countenance of
Sir William did not appear to be altogether un-
known to me — when that gentleman himself drew
near the spot where the Count of Livorno had
thus joined me; and the Count said, "Permit me,
Sir William Stratford, to introduce you to my
friend the Earl of Eccleston."

" 1 am delighted to have the honour of forming
his lordship's acquaintance," said Sir William,
bowing to me alike courteously and respectfully.

The Count of Livorno remained conversing with
104

u3 on indifferent topics for a few minutes ; and
then he said, " You must excuse me, my dear
Eccleston — but I have engaged your amiable
Countess for the next dance, which is almost im-
mediately to commence."

" You have been residing in Florence for some
time ?" I said to Sir William Stratford after the
Count of Livorno had left us,

" Yes : it is a delightful city, with numerous at-
tractions for every one — but with an especial en-
chantment for me" he added with a smile. " Al-
together I like the Continent much better thaa
England "

" In this respect," I observed, " you resemble
my fiiend Lord Eavenshill, who was telling me
yesterday "

"Lord Eavenshill?" ejaculated Sir William
Stratford, with accents that surprised me. " Is he
in Florence, my lord ?"

410

JOSEPH WIIMOT; OE, THE MEMOIES OP A MAN-SEEVANT.

"Yes— and within these walls," I answered.
" It was Lady Eavenshill with whom you saw me
dancing just now."

" Oh, indeed !" said Sir William, with his
habitual suavity of manner. " I have not the
honour of her ladyship's acquaintance : but Lord
Eavenshill And you say he is here to-night P"

" Yes — I saw him but a few minutes back : it
was in one of the adjacent rooms "

" Ah ! these rooms are so spacious, and the as-
semblage is so numerous," said Sir William, "that
even in the course of an entire evening one stands
no chance of seeing all one's friends and acquaint-
ances. But your lordship will excuse me for a
few minutes :" — and with a somewhat hasty but
completely courteous bow, Sir William Stratford
glided away.

After lingering on the spot in reflection for a
few moments, I passed into the adjacent room,
where I had just now seen Lord Eavenshill. At
the very instant I thus entered it, I observed his
lordship standing apart from the rest of the com-
pany— indeed almost completely in a corner — con-
versing with Sir William Stratford. But at the
same moment the Viscountess Cenci accosted
them ; and I heard her say, " Eeally, my Lord
Eavenshill— and you also. Sir William — I must
chide you both for standing gossiping here while
there are so many fair ones who are in want of
partners for the ensuing dance."

"Permit me to offer my hand to the fairest,"
said Sir William, with the tender familiarity of an
accepted suitor : but as he led the Viscountess
away, I saw that he flung upon Lord Eavenshill a
rapid glance of singular significancy.

He passed into the grand saloon with the Vis-
countess Cenci; and Lord Eavenshill remained
standing on the same spot where this little scene
had taken place. I observed that he had an irre-
solute and bewildered air : he did not notice me —
nor do I think had Sir William Stratford per-
ceived my proximity at the time. I waited till
this individual had led the Viscountess forth from
the room ; and then I accosted Lord Eavenshill.

"Ah, my dear Eccieston !" he said with a sort
of start : " you are the very one whom I could
best wish to consult under present circumstances !"

"On what subject?" I inquired, though con-
jecturing that it was in reference to Sir William
Stratford.

" Come hither," said Eavenshill : and he drew
me forth upon a balcony lighted with lamps, aud
decked with flowers which shed a delicious per-
fume.

The balcony looked upon the spacious garden
attached to the Cenci mansion ; and we could there
discourse without restraint.

" I am somewhat perplexed how to act," said
Lord Eavenshill, " An earnest appeal has been
made to me: and yet on the other hand there is
the sternest sense of duty "

"Ah!" I ejaculated; for I was thus suddenly
reminded of the few words I had ere now heard
drop from the lips of the two English gentlemen,
as I have already informed the reader.

"Do you suspect anything ? — have you fathomed
anything ?" inquired Eavenshill. " Tell me, my
dear Earl! Lady Eavenshill just now informed me
that when she was dancing with you "

"You are alluding to Sir Williaia Stratford," I

interrupted my noble companion. " I myself have
fathomed nothing — but I feel there is something
wrong about that man."

" There is, Eccieston 1" said Eavenshill vehe-
mently ; " and it is totally impossible that we can
be a party to the deception. He just now accosted
me— I recognised him in a moment, although I bad
not seen him for years — despite too that mous-
tache and tuft He was telling me some plau-
sible tale to account for his change of name — he
was beseeching me to say naught which would in-
jure him But you yourself know him ! We

spoke of him yesterday when we met——"

" Grood heavens !" I ejaculated, as a light flashed
in unto my mind. " It is Sir Malcolm Waven-
ham !"

" Yes — it is he," rejoined Eavenshill. " How is
it that you did not recognise him ?"

" I knew his face, and I knew his voice," I an-
swered: "but I was a mere youth — a boy of six-
teen or seventeen — when last I saw him. He too
was a very young man at that time ; and this
moustache moreover disguises him "

" But it is he !" ejaculated Eavenshill. " He
was telling me that though he had lost the family
estates, he has recently inherited other large pro-
perties "

" Believe it not !" I vehemently interjected.
"That man is a villain ! I know more of him

than you suspect — I could tell you a tale " and

then I sighed profoundly as I thought of the hap-
less and perished Violet. " But enough for the
present ! What are we to do in reference to this
man ? Shall we unmask him publicly ? or shall we
speak to him in private ?"

" The latter is the preferable alternative," an-
swered Lord Eavenshill : " we will not create a
scene within these walls. Come, my dear Eccies-
ton, and let us at once seize an opportunity to
whisper our intentions to that villanous adven-
turer."

" Yes," I said : " we will avoid a scene :" — and
it was not only for the sake of the Viscountess
Cenci that I thus spoke, but likewise for that of
Annabel : for I knew full well that if the name of
Sir Malcolm Wavenham were mentioned in her
hearing, it would coajure up the most afflicting
memories concerning her loved and lost sister.

Eavenshill and myself stepped from the ba'cony
back into the apartment; and just at that instant
a footman accosted me, saying, " I beg your lord-
ship's pardon — but there is an English gentleman
who requests a few minutes' private conversation
with your lordship. This is his card."

I took the card, and found it to be Mr. Ten-
nan t's.

" Where is this gentleman ?" I inquired.

" I have shown him to a private apartment,"
responded the footman ; " and if your lord-
ship "

" My dear Eavenshill," I said, " there are cir-
cumstances that have come to my 'knowledge
which inspire me with the conviction that the plot
is thickening. Come with me ! I am much mis-
taken if you may not as well hear what Mr.
Tennant has to communicate to me. — Lead us
forth," I added, now speaking to the domestic, " in
a manner that may excite as little notice as pos-
sible."

It was not necessary to pass through the prin-

JOSEPH WIIMOT; OB, THE MEMOIBS OE A MAN-SEBVANT.

41X

cipal saloon where the dancing was taking place ;
and the footmnn led us forth without even being
perceived by Sir Malcolm Wavenhain. AYe tra-
versed the spacious landing — wo descended the
magniOcent marble staircase — we reached the hall ;
and thence the footman showed us into a parlour
where Mr. Tennant was waiting. The domestic
withdrew ; and when the door was closed, I said
to the solicitor, " This is my friend Lord Havens-
bill ; and I am convinced that whatsoever you are
about to communicate to me, need not be kept
secret from him."

" And it is not likely, my lord," answered Mr.
Tennant, " to be kept secret from any one much
longer. I allude to a most unpleasant business — a
disagreeable duty which I have to perform. Your
lordship cannot have forgotten the partial explana-
tions I gave you this morning ? That unprin-
cipled forger is beneath this roof!"

"Forger?" ejaculated Eavenshill. "Is it pos-
sible that you can mean Sir Malcolm Wavenham?"
" It is," answered the lawyer.
" And we ourselves have discovered," I observed,
« that Sir William Stratford and Sir Malcolm
Wavonham arc identical !"

" Your lordship is aware," resumed Mr. Ten-
nant, " that I only reached Florence last night,
and that this morning when I met you, I was on
my way to institute certain inquiries and to see
Sir Malcolm Wavenham. My object was then to
give him the chance of settling the affair amicably,
because I had not the remotest idea that under
his assumed name of Stratford he was plotting" the
deepest villany in respect to a too confiding lady.
The particulars of this scheme I have however
learnt during the day ; and I thereupon resolved
to change the whole plan of my proceedings. I
have not therefore seen Sir Malcolm Wavenham at
all : but I have communicated with the Chief of
the Florentine police — and every arrangement is
made to set in operation that law of passports
which will hand the villanous forger and unprin-
cipled adventurer into the custody of the Bow
Street officer who has accompanied me from Lon-
don. But inasmuch as on calling just now at the
Livorno palace to see your lordship and report all
these things, I learnt that you were at the Cenci
mansion — where I also expected to find Sir Mal-
colm Wavenham — it occurred to me that I would
consult your lordship as to the best means of carry-
ing out the business in a way calculated to spare
the feelings of the Viscountess Cenci, and of her
venerable father, of whom I have heard so much
good."

"This is very kind and considerate on your
part, Mr. Tennant," I said : and then, after a few
minutes' reflection, I communicated to t^e solicitor
and Lord Eavenshill a plan which had entered my
mind.

They both assented to its propriety : Eavenshill
remained with Mr. Tennant ; and I ascended once
more to the brilliant saloons. Entering them with
the air of one who had nothing very serious to
preoccupy him, I glanced about me. Sir Malcolm
Wavenham was engaged in discourse with some
ladies at the farther extremity of the grand saloon :
the Viscountess Cenci was at the instant leaving a
group with whom she had evidently been convers-
ing at the other end. I accosted her, and said,
" May I request a few minutes' private interview

with your ladyship ? It is relative to a matter of
considerable importance."

The Viscountess naturally regarded me with an
air of the profoundest astonishment : but as I
could now no longer preserve the careless indif-
ference which I had assumed, she was evidently
struck by my look — and she said, " This way, my
lord."

She conducted me across the landing, to a small
and exquisitely furnished apartment, where we
were alone together. Her ladyship looked at mo
as if she were anxious at a glance to penetrate my
meaning; and yet she evidently struggled with her-
self to maintain au appearance of calm dignified
composure,

" Deeply, deeply afflicted am I, lady," I began,
"to be the bearer of evil intelligence: but when
everything is explained, you will appreciate my
motives in thus privately and deliberately breaking
the tidings to you."

" My lord, tell me at once," she said, " what it
is you have to impart ? I am not a child — and if
it be some sudden calamity, I can meet it with a
becoming fortitude."

I saw full well that she was from the first smit-
ten with misgivings in respect to the object of her
love — and she suspected that the forthcoming ia-
telligence had reference to him : but far — very far
was she from anticipating the full extent of the
change that was to tali;e place in her mind with re-
gard to that map.

"Perhaps," I continued, "it might have beea
more delicate on my part to have charged the
Countess of Eccleston to speak to your ladyship :
but methought that it would possibly mitigate the
pang somewhat if all this proceeding were con-
ducted as quietly as possible. In a word, madam,
that Englishman who has had the audacity to seek
your hand in marriage, is utterly unworthy of you

he is not a mere adventurer "

" Lord Eccleston," interrupted the Viscountess
Cenci, " there are persons from whose lips I should
have received such intelligence witl^ the utmost

caution : but as it comes from your's "

Her countenance had grown deadly pale as slie
commenced this speech : she now stopped suddenly
short. I saw that she staggered— and I assisted
her to a chair. Then her fortitude, her sense of
dignity, her pride, all suddenly gave way ; and she
burst into a torrent of tears. For some minutes I
suffered her to weep : it was impossible to ofier a
single syllable of consolation ; and besides, I knew
that those tears would relieve her.

" Tell me everything ! tell me the worst !" she
said, again breaking silence. " Sir William is not,
what he seems— or what he has assumed to be ?
Perhaps he has no estates ? perhaps he has no
title ? But his character may be otherwise honour-
able—he may have been unfortunate "

" Methought I had already prepared your lady-
ship," I interrupted her, " to hear the very worst
in respect to that man. Oh 1 it is most painful for
me to break the terrible truth unto your know-
ledge !"

" Then it must be something dreadful 1" said the
Viscountess : and for a few moments an expres-
sion of ineffable anguish passed over her features.
" But hesitate not to tell me, my lord !" she con-
tinued, suddenly growing calm — yet it was with a
desperate unnatural species of composure

It is

412

JOSEPH WILMOT ; OB, THB MEMOIBB OP A MAN-SKBVAJfT.

true that I have loved him — and love itself is a
prejudice ! Perhaps I have not listened with suf-
ficient attention to the representations of my
father and my friends. But if I have indeed
loved one who is unworthy, rest assured that sus-
ceptible as my heart has been to receive the im-
pression, with equal facility can it banish an image
which it may no longer in honour cherish. I am
no puling sentimental girl — my feelings are strong
— and as deeply as I have loved, with an equal
bitterness can I hate. !Now, my lord, that I have
told you all this, hesitate no longer to inform me
why I must not love Sir William Stratford ?"

" Madam," I answered, " circumstances have
Combined to save you not merely from becoming
the dupe of a penniless adventurer, but likewise
from wedding positive infamy !"

Again for an instant did that anguished ex-
pression flit over the features of the Viscountess :
but it was less perceptible than before — and it
was more evanescent.

" Infamy !" she said : and then the proud blood
of her race rushed to her cheeks. " My lord,"
she continued, after a few moments' pause — and it
was with a singular flsity of look that she spoke,
— " there is no longer any love in my heart for
that man ! You may deem it strange that I give
you this assurance : you may regard it as singular
that I should be enabled all in a moment, as it
were, to put forth from my soul a sentiment which
was so recently an infatuation. But it is impossible
for me, the daughter of an honourable man — the
widow of an honourable man — to love one who
bears a tainted reputation !"

There was a species of heroism in the present
tone, conduct, and demeanour of the Viscountess,
which could not fail to inspire admiration. I saw
that if in one sense she had a woman's weakness,
in every other sense she had an Amazonian
strength of mind : love was the weakness — but
even therewith was a pride which constituted
strength ; and the moment the love was felt to be
an unworthycne, its weakness was absorbed in the
dominating strength of that pride.

" The person who has dared to aspire to your
hand in the hope of obtaining your riches," I con-
tinued, " does indeed bear the title of a British
Baronet— but a title which he has disgraced. His
name is not Sir William Stratford : it is Sir Mai- 1
colm Wavenham. His estates have long been dis- \
posed of: the very money with which he has been
keeping up an appearance in Italy, was obtained

by the foulest fraud in England and within

the hour that is passing the mechanism of justice
is preparing to enfold him in its grasp — unless

But of that hereafter ! Madam,'_' I added ]

impressively, " circumstances have saved you from \
becoming the victim of a forger !"

"And that man is still beneath my roof?" ex-
claimed the Viscountess, drawing herself up with
all her dignity, while the proud blood again rushed
to her cheeks. "It is time that my lacqueys
should drive him hence 1"

She was advancing with an air of queenly indig-
nation towards the door, when I hastened to fling
myself in the way, saying, " But your ladyship
will not surely give publicity to all this ? My ob-
ject was to spare your feelings — to warn you of the
blow that was about to smite Sir Malcolm Waven-
ham— to ascertain whether yoa might choose tbs^

the affair should be hushed up, and that he should
be released from his terrible predicament on condi-
tion that at once and for ever he absented himself
from the Tuscan States ? If the matter be so
settled, the world need not know that the man on
whom the Viscountess Cenci bestowed her love,
was a criminal ; and some pretest may be devised
for the breaking-off of the match."

" I fully appreciate your lordship's good inten-
tions," answered the Viscountess ; " and I offer
my sincerest gratitude. But it is not thus that
so serious an affair can be settled. Publicly have
I shown favour to that man ; and as publicly will
I exhibit my scorn and abhorrence. I have not
been ashamed to suffer the world to perceive that
I loved him : I must not now hesitate to prove to
this same world that I detest him. If there have
been pride in love, there shall be pride in hatred
also ! My lord, the shame is not mine— but it
shall be his own !"

I was about to offer further remonstrances— I
was on the point of representing all the incon-
venience that might arise from creating " a scene"
in the midst of the brilliant entertainment : but
the Viscountess convinced me by a look that my
endeavour would be vain — for that her mind was
made up.

" Have the goodness, my lord," she said, " to
accompany me back to the rooms where the guests
are assembled."

She did not take my arm : but she walked in
front of me, — evidently fortified with all her femi-
nine dignity — invested with the pride of the God-
dess Juno herself. We entered t'le principal
saloon : a glance showed me that Sir Malcolm
Wavenham was conversing with a group of ladies
and gentlemen almost in the centre of that spacious
and brilliantly lighted apartment. Annabel was
seated with the Count and Countess of Livorno
and Lady Eavenshill at the farther extremity from
that by which the Viscountess and myself now re-
entered the saloon.

The Viscountess advanced straight up to the
group with whom Sir Malcolm Wavenham was
conversing; and I hastened onward to prepare
Annabel for the explosion.

" My dearest wife," I said, seating myself by
her side, and hastily whispering in her ear, " there
is a subject on which you and I have not breathed
a word to each other for a very long, long time —
the subject of your deceased sister's career,^-the
hapless Violet! Bat her wronsjs will now be
avenged — the villain who enticed her from the
path of honour is within these walls — he is here —

you behold him now Prepare yourself, for

heaven's sake prepare yourself, dearest Anna-
bel "

" Dare not approach me !" were now the words
which, suddenly bursting upon the ears of all
present, interrupted the hurried speech that I was
whisperingly making to Annabel.

It was the Viscountess who had thus spoken ; and
her words appeared to electrify the entire assembly.
There was what might be termed a hushed and
subdued sensation, if the reader can understand
what I mean — a sensation which was universally
felt — a breathless suspense — a dead silence for a
few moments.

'•'Friends!" continued the Viscountess, still speak-
I ing in a tone that was audible in every part of the

JOSEPH VriLMOT; OB, THE MKMOIES OF A MAK-SEEVANT.

413

Epacious room, " you have seen me receive this ■
man with favour: you now behold me «xpel him
with ignominy. Begone! — begone, vile forger !
Felon that you are, the hand of justice is stretched
out to grasp you !"

I must confess that all this was at the moment
striking and impressive to a degree ; though, when
afterwards calmly looked at, it had too much the
appearance of a melodramatic scene upon a stage,
and in which the Viscountess enacted the part of
an outraged revengeful heroine. There was some-
thing too in her attitude and look at the moment
which reminded me of all I had ever read of Mrs.
Siddons — so queenly was the air of the Marquis
of Falieri's daughter, as with extended arm she
pointed towards the door of the saloon. The sen-
sation was now more than ever perceptible : there
was a hum of indignant voices— and there were
even ejaculations of applause for the lady ; while
others of scorn for the unmasked adventurer burst
forth as the latter hurried from the apartment. I
was not near enough to see how he looked : but I
was subsequently informed that his appearance
was so utterly crest-fallen and wretched — so
thoroughly discomfited, spirit-broken, and crushed
—that his must have been feelings scarcely to be
envied by even a criminal on his way to execu-
tion.

" Condign punishment has at length overtaken
the author of Violet's wrongs," I whispered to
Annabel : " for that man is Sir Malcolm Waveu-
bam 1"

CONCLUSION.

Sia Maxcolm Wavenham, on stealing down the
great staircase, with the feelings of a criminal as
he was, encountered two or three of the Florentine
sbirri, who took him into custody : for the rumour
had at once been passed down to the ball that the
man was thoroughly unmasked. He was led
away to the neighbouring police-ofBce, — Mr. Ten-
nant and the Bow Street constable following. His
passport was demanded ; and as it bore the name
of Sir William Stratford, Mr, Tennant produced
evidence to prove that his real name was Sir Mal-
colm Wavenham, Upon this information the
Tuscan authorities at once sent the culprit, in the
custody of the sbirri, to Leghorn — Mr, Tennant
and the Bow Street ofScer accompanying them.
At Leghorn Sir Malcolm was placed on board an
English vessel ; and on that deck — which was the
same as British ground — the Bow Street ofEcer took
the criminal into custody. He was brought to
England — tried for the forgery — and sentenced to
transportation to the penal settlements. I hare
never heard of him since.

Infinite was the joy of the old Marquis de
Fulieri on that occasion, when, in the midst of her
assembled guests, bis daughter expelled the villa-

nous adventurer from her presence ; and his lord-
ship assured me, a few days afterwards, that the
Viscountess, having entreated his par^lon for neglect-
ing his well-meant counsel in reference to her
English suitor, had promised that never again would
she prove indifferent to the paternal advice. The
venerable Marquis is still alive ; and his daughter
is still the widowed Viscountess Cenci.

Mrs. Bentinck bad not accompanied us on this
visit to the Continent : she had remained behind
in England, to spend the interval of our absence
with Mr. and Mrs. Howard at Delmar Manor.
After sojourning about eight months away from
home — passing the time in visits to the Count of
Livorno, to our friends in Rome, and to those in
Corsica — we returned to England; for Annabel's
anxiety to rejoin her mother was increasing. We
have since remained altogether in our native land ;
and nothing has occurred to interrupt the even
tenour of our happy and prosperous existence.
Our own domestic hearth is a scene of perfect
felicity ; and all the bliss which wealth and health
can afford, is ours. We have numerous friends
who are interested in our welfare, — not the mere
butterfly-friends who attach themselves to the
blooming flowers of prosperity, but flit away from
those that are withering beneath the breath of ad-
versity,— but stanch and -tried friends — friends
whom, as the reader has seen, I had known in
many adverse circumstances, and whose attach-
ment towards me and mine has been cemented by
all the incidents of the past.

And often are these friends gathered beneath
the roof of Eccleston House, or at one of the
country-seats which embellish the domains that I
possess. And when they are all seated at my
board, and I behold the Count and Countess of
Livorno on one side, the Count and Countess of
Monte d'Oro on the other— then the Count and
Countess of Avellino— all smiling and happy, and
all having travelled from their somewhat distant
homes to pay friendship's tributary visit— when I
hear the jolly laugh of Saltcoats sounding through
the room— or find the worthy old Dominie wonder-
ing whether he first formed my acquaintance at
Baillie Owlhead's or at the Laird of Tintosquash-
dale's,— when the Chief of Inch Methglin or Sir
Alexander and Lady Carrondale speak of the wild
scenery of their own native Caledon, — or when the
good-hearted Duncansby reminds me, in a whisper
and with a smile, of how we first travelled together
in a hired post-chaise,— the incidents of the past
are conjured up; and I behold therein so many
ramifications of the web which, at one time appa-
rently so tangled, nevertheless led on to that happy
phase of my existence which I now enjoy.

Reader, my task is done. Faithfully have I
fulfilled it ; and for whatsoever labour it has cost
me, shall I be more than adequately rewarded if
through its medium I have succeeded in pointing
a moral that may be useful to those who have foU
lowed my adventurous course through the pages
of this narrative.

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