Joseph Wilmot, or, The Memoirs of a Man-Servant — page 51: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

) Se ee 38 JOSEPH WILMOT; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT. “had 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 which 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- lence 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 overthrown, 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 hac become so exceedingly serious, that little short of a miracle could save her life. I was profoundly afflicted,—afilicted on account of herself —afilicted 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 shocking too if the unfortunate young Duke de Paulin 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 I 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 coffee-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- sibly be held responsible for the lengths to which | the jealousy of the Duchess had run, and the crime into which that jealousy had helped to goad the Duke. Several letters, ‘which the ‘deceased nobleman had written to. Mademoiselle Ligny, 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 the 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 rayaging 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 J 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 rane; 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 young Duke ; and he was standing near a centre-table, with his arms folded across bis chest, and his looks bent downward. ——_—- 9 ECORnICLOOlkS .EO©