Tom Burke Of "Ours" Volume Ii Part 28

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"'Alas! I shame to say it, I am.'

"'Come, gentlemen,' said the gay young prince, 'a b.u.mper to our worthy friend, whom, with G.o.d's blessing, I shall see restored right soon to his fitting rank and station. Yes, De Gency! my word upon it, the next evening I sup here I shall bring with me his Majesty's own signature to these t.i.tle-deeds. Make place, gentlemen, and let him sit down!'

"But poor Jacotot was too much excited by his feelings of joy and grat.i.tude, and he rushed from the room in a torrent of tears.

"The evening the prince spoke of never came. Soon after that commenced the troubles to the royal family; the dreadful events of Versailles; the flight to Varennes; the 10th August,--a horrible catalogue I cannot bear to trace. There, yonder, where now the groups are loitering, or sitting around in happy knots, there died Louis the Sixteenth. The prince I spoke of is an exile: they call him Louis the Eighteenth; but he is a king without a kingdom.

"But Jacotot lives on in hope. He has waded through all the terrors of the Revolution; he has seen the guillotine erected almost before his door and beheld his former friends led one by one to the slaughter.



Twice was he himself brought forth, and twice was his life spared by some admirer of his cuisine. But perhaps all his trials were inferior to the heart-burning with which he saw the places once occupied by the blood of Saint Louis now occupied by the _canaille_ of the Revolution.

Marat and Robespierre frequented his house; and Barras seldom pa.s.sed a week without dining there. This, I verily believe, was a heavier affliction than any of his personal sufferings; and I have often heard him recount, with no feigned horror, the scenes which took place among the _incroyables_, as they called themselves, whose orgies he contrasted so unfavorably with the more polished excesses of his regal visitors.

Through all the anarchy of that fearful period; through the scarce less sanguinary time of the Directory; through the long, dreary oppression of the consulate; and now, in the more grinding tyranny of the Empire, he hopes, ay, still hopes on, that the day will come when from the hands of the king himself he shall receive his long-buried rank, and stand forth a De Gency. Poor fellow! there is something n.o.ble and manly in the long struggle with fortune,--in that long-sustained contest in which he would never admit defeat.

"Such are the followers of the Bourbons: their best traits, their highest daring, their most long-suffering endurance, only elicited in the pursuit of some paltry object of personal ambition. They have tasted the cup of adversity, ay, drained it to the very dregs; they have seen carnage and bloodshed such as no war ever surpa.s.sed: and all they have learned by experience is, to wish for the long past days of royal tyranny and frivolity back again; to see a glittering swarm of debauchees fluttering around a sensualist king; and to watch the famished faces of the mult.i.tude, without a thought that the tiger is only waiting for his spring. As to a thought of true liberty, one single high and n.o.ble aspiration after freedom, they never dreamed of it.

"You see, my friend, I have no desire to win you over to the Bourbon cause; neither, if I could, would I make you a Jacobin. But how is this? Can it really be so late? Come, we have no time to lose: it is not accounted good breeding to be late in a visit at the Faubourg."

CHAPTER XIX. THE TWO SOIREES

d.u.c.h.esne's story had unfortunately driven all memory of Bubbleton out of my head; and it was only as we entered the street where the d.u.c.h.esse de Montserrat lived that I remembered my friend, and thought of asking the chevalier's advice about him.

In a few words I explained so much of his character and situation as was necessary, and was going on to express my fears lest a temperament so unstable and uncertain should involve its possessor in much trouble, when d.u.c.h.esne interrupted me by saying,--

"Be of courage on that head. Your friend, if the man you describe him, is the very person to baffle the police. They can see to any depth, if the water be only clear; muddy it, and it matters little how shallow it be. This Bubbleton might be of the greatest service just now; you must present me to him, Burke."

"Most willingly. But first promise that you will not involve my poor friend in the snares of any plot. Heaven knows, his own faculties are quite sufficient for his mystification."

"Plot! snares!--why, what are you thinking of? But come, this is our halting-place; and here we are, without my even having a moment to give you any account of my good aunt."

As he spoke he turned the handle of a large door, which led into a gloomy _porte cochere_, dimly illuminated by a single old-fas.h.i.+oned lantern. A fat, unwieldy-looking porter peeped at us from his den in the conciergerie; and then, having announced our approach by ringing a bell, he closed the shutter, and left us to find the way ourselves.

Ascending the great s.p.a.cious stair, the wall alongside which was covered with family portraits,--grim-looking heroes in mail, or prim dames with bouquets in their jewelled hands,--we reached a species of gallery, from which several doors led off. Here a servant, dressed in deep black, was standing to announce the visitors.

As the servant preceded us along the corridor, I could not help feeling the contrast of this gloomy mansion, where every footstep had its own sad echo, with the gorgeous splendor of the Hotel Clichy. Here, all was dark, cold, and dreary; there, everything was lightsome, cheerful, and elegant. What an emblem, to my thinking, were they both of the dynasties they represented! But the reflection was only made as one half of the folding-door was thrown open,--the double-door was the prerogative of the blood-royal,--and we were announced.

The apartment--a large, sombre-looking one--was empty, however, and we traversed this, and a second similar to it, our names being repeated as before; when at length the low tones of voices indicated our approach to the _salon_ where the visitors were a.s.sembled.

Dimly lighted by a few lamps, far apart from each other, the apartment as we entered seemed even larger than it really was. At one end, around a huge antique fireplace, sat a group of ladies, whom in a glance I recognized as of the cla.s.s so distinctively called dowager. They were seated in deep-cus.h.i.+oned fauteuils, and were mostly employed in some embroidery work, which they laid down each time they spoke; and resumed, less to prosecute the labor, than, as it were, from mere habit.

With all the insinuating gracefulness of a well-bred Frenchman, d.u.c.h.esne approached the seat next the chimney, and respectfully kissed the hand extended towards him.

"Permit me, my dear aunt, to present a very intimate friend,--Captain Burke," said he, as he led me forward.

At the mention of the word "captain," I could perceive that every hand dropped its embroidery-frame, while the group stared at me with no feigned astonishment. But already the d.u.c.h.ess had vouchsafed a very polite speech, and motioned me to a seat beside her; while the chevalier insinuated himself among the rest, evidently bent on relieving the stiff and constrained reserve which pervaded the party. Not even his tact and worldly cleverness was equal to the task. The conversation, if such it could be called, was conducted almost in monosyllables,--some stray question for an absent "marquise," or a muttered reply concerning a late "countess," was the burden; not an allusion even being made to any topic of the day, nor any phrase dropped which could show that the speakers were aware of the year or the nation in which they lived and breathed.

It was an inexpressible relief to me when gradually some three or four other persons dropped in, some of them men, who, by their manner, seemed favorites of the party. And soon after the entrance of the servant with refreshments permitted a movement in the group, when I took the opportunity to stand up and approach d.u.c.h.esne, as he bent over a table, listlessly turning over the leaves of a volume.

"Just think of the contradictions of human nature, Burke," said he, in a low whisper. "These are the receptions for which the new n.o.blesse would give half their wealth. These melancholy visits of worn-out acquaintances, these sapless twigs of humanity, are the envy of such houses as the Hotel Clichy; and to be admitted to these gloomy, moth-eaten _salons_, is a greater honor than an invitation to the Tuileries. So long as this exists, depend upon it, there is rottenness in the core of society. But come, let us take our leave; I see you are well wearied of all this. And now for an hour at Madame de Lacostellerie's,--_en revanche_."

As we came forward to make our adieux to the d.u.c.h.ess, she rose from her seat, and in so doing her sleeve brushed against a small marble statue of Louis the Sixteenth, which, had I not opportunely caught it, would have fallen to the ground.

"Thank you, sir," said she, graciously. "You have prevented what I should have deemed a sad accident."

"Nay, more, Aunt," said d.u.c.h.esne, smiling; "he has shown his readiness to restore the Bourbon."

This speech, evidently spoken in jest, was repeated from lip to lip in the circle; and certainly I never felt my awkwardness more oppressive than when bowing to the party, whose elated looks and pleased countenances now were turned towards me.

"My poor, bashful friend," said d.u.c.h.esne, as we descended the stair; "get rid of the habit of blus.h.i.+ng with all convenient despatch. It has marred more fortunes than pharo or bouillotte."

"This, a.s.suredly, is well done!" said the chevalier, as he looked around him, while we slowly ascended the stairs of the Hotel Glichy: the brilliant light, almost rivalling day; the servants in gorgeous liveries; the air of wealth around on every side, so different from the sad-colored mansion of the Faubourg; while, as the opening doors permitted it to be heard, the sound of delicious music came wafted to the ear.

"I say, Burke," said he, stopping suddenly, and laying his hand on my arm, "this might content a man who has seen as much as I have. And the game is well worth the playing; so here goes!"

The first person I saw as we entered the ante-chamber was Bubbleton. He was the centre of a knot of foreigners, who, whatever the topic, seemed highly amused at his discourse.

"That is your friend, yonder," said d.u.c.h.esne. "He has the true type of John Bull about him; introduce me at once."

d.u.c.h.esne scarcely permitted me to finish the introduction, when he extended his hand, and saluted Bubbleton with great cordiality; while the "general" did not suffer the ceremony to interrupt the flow of his eloquence, but continued to explain, in the most minute and circ.u.mstantial manner, the conditions of the new peace secretly concluded between France and England. The incredulity of the listeners was, I could perceive, considerably lessened by observing the deferential attention with which d.u.c.h.esne listened, only interrupting the speaker by an occasional a.s.sent, or a pa.s.sing question as to the political relations of some of the great Powers.

"As to Prussia," said Bubbleton, pompously--"as to Prussia--"

"Well, what of Prussia, General?"

"We have our doubts on that subject," replied he, looking thoughtfully around him on the group, who, completely deceived by d.u.c.h.esne's manner, now paid him marked attention.

"You'll not deprive her of Genoa, I trust," said the chevalier, with a gravity almost inconceivable.

"That is done already," said Bubbleton. "For my own part, I told Lauderdale we were nothing without the Bosphorus,--'the key of our house, as your Emperor called it."

"He spoke of Russia, if I don't err," said d.u.c.h.esne, with an insinuating air of correction.

"Pardon me, you are wrong. I know Russia well. I travelled through the steppes of Metchezaromizce with Prince Drudeszitsch. We journeyed three hundred versts over his own estates, drawn on sledges by his serfs. You are aware they are always harnessed by the beard, which they wear long and plaited on purpose."

"That is towards the Crimea," interrupted the chevalier.

"Precisely. I remember a curious incident which occurred one night as we approached Chitepsk. (You know Chitepsk? It is where they confine the state prisoners,--a miserable, dreary tract, where the snow never melts, and the frost is so intense you often see a drove of wolves glued fast to the snow by the feet, and howling fearfully: a strange sight, to be sure!) Well, the night was falling, and a thin, cutting snowdrift beginning to drop, when Dru (I always call him so,--short) said to me,--

"'Bub' (he did the same to me) 'Bub,' said he, 'do you remark that off-side leader?'

"'I see him,' said I.

"'I have been watching the fellow since the last stage, and confound me if he has ever tightened a trace; and you see he is a right active one, notwithstanding. He capers along gayly enough. I 'll touch him up a bit.' And with that he gave a flourish of his knouted whip, and came down on him with a smarting cut. Lord, how he jumped! Five feet off the ground at one spring! And, hang me, if he didn't tear off his beard!

There it was, hanging to the pole! A very shocking sight, I must confess; though Dru did n't seem to mind it. However, we were obliged to pull up, and get out the team. Well, you would not believe what we saw when we got down. You 'd never guess who was the off-leader. It was the Princess Odoznovskoi! Poor thing! the last time I saw her, before that, she was dancing in the Amber Palace with Prince Alexander. She and her husband had been banished to Chitepsk, and as he was ill, she had put on a false beard and was taking a short stage in his place."

I did not venture to wait for more; but, leaving d.u.c.h.esne to make the most of the general, pa.s.sed onwards towards the _salon_, which already was rapidly filling with visitors.

The countess received me with more than wonted kindness of manner, and mademoiselle a.s.sumed a tone of actual cordiality I had never perceived before; while, as she exchanged greetings with me, she said, in a low voice,--

Tom Burke Of "Ours" Volume Ii Part 28

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Tom Burke Of "Ours" Volume Ii Part 28 summary

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