instant, nor did he waver from his purpose. He felt no fear for the approaching contest although he had never been a pupil of the Ecolé Polytechnique, and although he could not view with calmness-as what truly brave man could? -its probable issue, his fortitude remained unshaken. He was comforted too by the reflection that notwithstanding his moral objections to the system of duelling, the occasion almost sanctified the act; he was fulfilling a sacred duty to an uncle who had been a benefactor-a father to him. Setting aside the circumstances that had involved his uncle in such an affair, he had, inasmuch as it was inevitable, only acted up to the dictates of his conscience, and yielded to the promptings of nature and gratitude when he voluntarily offered himself as his uncle's substitute; he was perfectly satisfied with the part he had taken on the occasion, and in mentally weighing everything that had happened he felt that he should not have acted aright had he done otherwise. The image of a fair young girl crossed his mind for an instant, but it was banished with a desperate effort, though the impression of sadness and remorse it left weighed his spirit down and filled it with gloomy and ominous anticipations. Alexandre de Laval wavered not, however. When he joined his uncle's guests at the appointed time, although his brow was shadowed by anxiety, and his heart oppressed with the foreboding thoughts that beset it, he endeavoured to efface its appearance, though the struggle was long and severe before he could even partially disguise it from the observation of Madame Glouglou; but he was unable to conceal it from being discovered by a young girl, who was sitting by the side of a lady from whose face Time had not yet ravished all traces of beauty, and to whom she bore a resemblance so unmistakeable that it needed nothing more to convince the beholder they were mother and daughter. To this young girl Alexandre hastened up with an ardour of which himself was quite unconscious, but which was no doubt caused by the adventitious circumstances surrounding him. The object of this empressement, whom he addressed as Isabelle, blushed slightly as she returned his salutation. He then welcomed her mother, Madame d'Arcet, while in a moment afterwards the father of Isabelle, a tall, fine looking man, advanced to him and shook him warmly by the hand. Isabelle and Alexandre were affianced and, although very young, had been betrothed for upwards of six months. Monsieur d'Arcet was of an ancient and honourable French family, and from his ancestors had inherited some little property that had been sufficient to prevent the necessity of his embarking in any trade or profession. Philippe D'Arcet was a staunch Bourbonist, and when he came of age beheld with feelings of alarm and gloomy anticipation the clouds which were slowly gathering over his native land, and were beginning to darken the page of her history; their effects naturally becoming visible in Paris long before the shadows of the future had spread themselves over the remoter parts of France. The aspect of affairs became at length so threatening that in the January of 1790 he determined to leave France for a year or two in order to await the issue of that which his anticipations so much dreaded. To accomplish this purpose he hastily effected an arrangement with his bankers for the mortgage of his estate, and with his wife, whom he had married a twelvemonth previously, quitted Paris without molestation and proceeded to Frankfort, in which city his wife, whose family were of German extrac tion, possessed some relatives. They arrived thither in safety, and two months afterwards his wife gave birth to a daughter, whom they named Isabelle. Two other children blessed their union, but they both died young. M. d'Arcet became in a little time attached to Frankfort; there were so many of his own countrymen residing there that it might almost have been considered a quartier of Paris itself. In the mean time the threatening aspect of affairs continued unabated; a year or two slipped by, and the horrors of the Revolution reached his ears, magnified tenfold by distance, and he was induced to finally determine to settle in Frankfort, a city whose regulations were more favourable to foreigners than those of any he knew, and whose policy granted greater immunity and protection, and allowed considerably higher pri vileges and advantages to strangers who sought their city either as a place of refuge or for com mercial purposes than did that of any other city on the continent. He had, therefore, with his wife and child continued to reside at Frankfort up to the time of which we write; the latter had therefore entered upon her estate-and truly in every point it is an estate-of early womanhood. The beauty of Isabelle-for she possessed that rare gift in an eminent degree-consisted in the reflection of herself. What matter was it if the "beauteous red and white" mingled not in that exact proportion as to render the ensemble perfect, if the gentleness, grace, and amiability, reflected therefrom had been wanting? Who would have cared what colour her eyes were if they had not beamed softness or fire as the expression which awoke either was born? Who sought to perceive the dignity of her mind? None; it was felt; it intruded itself upon your observation; you could not help discovering it. Was she tall or short in stature? You heeded not, you only knew that her movements were as graceful as those of Hebe. But although Isabelle might have successfully supported her claim to be considered beautiful, the truth was it lay more in the vivacity and expression of her manner, and that nameless charm imparted by intellectuality and-education. To our poor thinking the "human form divine" is as the rough piece of marble ere it falls into the Sculp tor's hands, whose magic chisel imparts to it a semblance of beauty. Education is the sculptor which fashions it from the model of Nature, reveals all the hidden beauties, softens down the were, transformed by the magic touch of Education, with Religion for its chisel, into that in comparison with which the power and the glory of kings is but a chimera. ! blemishes: the crude, formless block is, as it, such by any means so sordid as some pseudo philosophers would have us imagine-of M. d'Arcet by declaring Alexandre his heir; for both uncle and nephew were invited to his house by M. d'Arcet, at which, amid universal joy and the happy tears of Isabelle, the lovers were betrothed; but the latter's father would not consent to the wedding taking place for at least a year; both were so young, he thought, that their feelings might undergo a change within tnat time. Necessitated to submit to this decision, Isabelle and Alexandre looked into each other's eyes and pressed each other's hand as they responded-while wondering that such a belief could exist-"Never!" Nor should we be doing justice to Isabelleperhaps not to some of our readers-did we omit to give some, indistinct though it be, more tangible description of her. A trifle above the medium height of her sex, Isabelle possessed a brilliantly fair complexion, an ample brow, over which very dark hair was braided and thrown back beneath her ears, whence it descended in short bewitching curls; her eyes, dark and impressive, were shaded by long lashes, which impart that indescribable effect to the eye in We shall not dwell on the entertainment prorepose, a kind of dreamy, almost languishing vided for his friends by M. Glouglou, save for a expression, which has become almost proverbial moment to say that the Babel of tongues which as a "Jewess' eye"; the curve of her mouth prevailed amply testified that enjoyment was at its denoted decision of character, though it had height. Even one or two solemn Germans prenothing about it unfeminine. Through her rich sent so far relaxed from their taciturnity as to vermeil lips, and her white, regular teeth, her join desperately in the conversation, as it floated voice issued like "music stealing on you un-in beautiful confusion around the table. awares;" indeed her voice, even in speaking, was remarkable for a singularly melodious tone., The qualities of her mind were no whit inferior to the beauty of her person. As we have said, the accomplishments bestowed by education imparted a charm superior to the adventitious one of personal gifts; and had not Isabelle possessed these latter her possession of the former would have caused her to be courted and admired; but she was born to be beloved for her womanly attributes-gentleness, innocence, a sweet and engaging manner, and those higher virtues which eanoble humanity, and without which beauty is a loathsome serpent. There had been nothing romantic about the first acquaintance and final and formal betrothal of Isabelle and Alexandre de Laval; they met in the primary instance at the house of a mutual friend; nor was that meeting the last : on the contrary, it was but the commencement of an acquaintance that ripened into a healthy and natural affection as they discovered each other's amiable disposition. The mutual confession of attachment had nothing to commend it to the romantic reader but its unexpectedness, and the warmth and exquisite sincerity of both, neither of whom knew how to disguise from the other the emotions of the heart: the secret was confided tearfully and blushingly, but at the same time hopefully, by Isabelle to her mother in one room almost simultaneously with its avowal, with manly frankness, by Alexandre to M. d'Arcet in another. The latter's reply to the impassioned -for it was such-appeal of the lover, which would have broken down all the barriers of delay and circumstances, was brief and quiet, but firm and decisive; he saw no obstacle to their union save her extreme youth. Alexandre was a high-spirited and honourable young man, and well calculated to render his daughter happy. He would consult M. Glouglou on the subject. Meanwhile Alexandre and Isabelle, who were seated next to each other, formed a Republic of their own-a republic, however, of which Love was the President-and paid little attention, like the generality of fiancés, to the marvellous delicacies of the cuisine; nor did they seek to share in the general conversation; and only when addressed personally did they give the necessary replies. Alexandre used his utmost endeavours to dissipate the gloom which hung over him, but it was quickly, almost intuitively, perceived by Isabelle, who endeavoured by every art to win from him its cause, so that she might soothe him. It was a bitter trial to De Laval to preserve a secret; the first time he had done so since their engagement, but he deemed it prudent, indeed absolutely imperative, that he should do do. In the event of a fatal issue awaiting his assignation on the morrow, so rapidly drawing nigh, he had written her a last few lines-he almost groaned as he thought of them in which he bade her farewell, and entreated forgiveness from her and from God. But, as the night passed on, he rallied, and became more calm; but it was the unnatural calmness of despair; and was far more agonizing than his previous suffering. When Isabelle prepared to depart with her parents, Alexandre, with an incredible and desperate effort, so far controlled his emotion as to falter "Farewell!" His eyes were fixed on Isabelle, but he saw her not; his hands were hot and clammy, and, as she bade him "Good night," she said in a low voice, "You are not well, Alexandre; you are feverish." "I believe I am a little unwell," replied he in a husky voice. "I will seek my chamber at once. Farewell! my own, till to-morrow." And he precipitately left the room, repeating "To-morrow. Oh, Heavens! to-morrow!" Even then Alexandre de Laval wavered not. The result of that experience proved highly With a sorrowful heart Isabelle entreated satisfactory. Doubtless, the worthy grocer had Madame Glouglou to watch over Alexandre, satisfied the parental considerations-nor are and shortly after left with her family. Shortly after this M. de Beaupré called, according to a previous understanding between them. To him, therefore, De Tourville was of course "at home." After partaking of a sumptuous dinner (unshared, however, by Marguerite), the two friends sat down to cards, with a watch placed between them, in order that the appointed time of meeting might not slip by unobserved. They sipped their claret, smoked their cigars, and jested with as keen a relish of all as if the scene in which they were about to enact was a farce; in which they anticipated the amusement prepared for them. At a few minutes before the time at which they were to set off, De Tourville threw down the cards exclaiming, “The game is yours, my dear fellow; let us have our café-au-lait, and be off to chastise this bullock." Many of the male guests, according to the preconcerted arrangement, evinced no disposition to move. Engaged in various games, such as piquet, rouge-et-noir, tric-trac, écarte, &c., the time passed pleasantly away, as M. Glouglou thought, till the dawn began to break from the eastern skies. Madame Glouglou had retired some time previously, and was far away in the world of dreams; Alexandre had therefore no need to use precaution as he descended to the drawing-room to join his uncle: he had been engaged in writing to Isabelle the communication to which we have previously referred, and this had torn and lacerated his feelings to a terrible degree. Finding his uncle and the remaining guests still pursuing their games with untiring vigour, he judged it expedient to open the shutters the stream of light that poured into the room as he did so surprised them, and De Beaupré laughed as his companion rang the hastily concluding their games, they one by one bell, in reply to which summons appeared Dodeparted, till the uncle and nephew were left toge-minique, carrying some of the beverage which ther. The former then could not fail to observe his master had mentioned, and which the Compte the deadly pallor of Alexandre, and the anguish had pronounced so unexceptionable. Attended marked plainly on his face; but cowardice rose by this prince of valets, and with many a jest, above this consideration, and rendered him in- the two friends proceeded on foot to the apcapable of preventing at his own personal risk pointed spot; nor did the beauty of the morning his nephew's sacrifice. Not a word was ex- speak to their callous feelings, or paint to them changed between them. Alexandre silently the sinfulness of their object-doubly so in the buckled on his rapier, and looking at his watch present instance, inasmuch as it was want only motioned to his uncle that the appointed time conceived for their own enjoyment, and did not had arrived. M. Glouglou rang the bell, and even borrow a dignity and nobility (terms misinformed his servants that M. Alexandre and applied, but the only ones that can be used himself were about to take a walk, from which nevertheless) from revenge. they might possibly not return for an hour or two. Signifying by a motion that he was ready, M. Glouglou and Alexandre de Laval passed silently into the clear and bracing morning air, redolent of the surpassing freshness that only baybreak possesses, which reflected a deeper feeling of remorse on the latter as they proceeded swiftly to the scene of action. In the interim, in order to preserve the continuity of our narrative, we must inform the reader of the manner in which M. le Compte de Beaupré passed the night previously to the duel. But let us in the first instance relate the issue of the appointment which our readers will remember M. le Marquis de Tourville made for Martin Natter to call on him that evening. For some reason or other the former had determined not to see Martin on this occasion; he had only required him to come to his house for the purpose of discovering how great was the power he possessed over his minion. Doubtful of its extent he must have been; for at the appointed time he stationed himself at a dark window to watch for Martin's coming. Nor was this suspense of long duration, for precisely as the hour was struck by the neighbouring clock, Martin, in the dress of the Baron von Beute, knocked at the door and received the reply, "My master bade me say that unexpected business has called him away, but begs you will oblige him by calling at the same hour to-morrow evening." As Martin stalked away in no very pleasant humour, De Tourville muttered eagerly and with joy, "He is mine mine!" But neither De Beaupré or De Tourville comprehended the truth of the philosopher's axiom, that to yield to and pardon those who are wrong is to be doubly in the right. СНАР. ІХ. "In those times you stand on distance, your passes, stoccadoes, and I know not what-'tis the heart, Master Page-'tis here'-'tis here." Merry Wives of Windsor, Act 2. The morning was, as we have previously said, beautiful. To hearts prone to receive impres sions from the stupendous or the simple works of Nature, nothing bestows such requisite sensa tions as the early morning does. It is then that in the free and uncontaminated air, fresh from the new-oped portals of heaven, it feels endowed with a new existence. The soul is revivified, it is drawn nigher to God, and in the contemplation of a scene which almost appears as if just emanated from His hand, still breathing with the mystery of His holy presence, the heart, the mind, the spirit become exalted, and more nearly akin to the Immortality which, in another, a brighter, and more enduring world require! the Promised Land of a Christian's hopes-we | uncertainty succeeded. This was terminated, devoutly look forward to share. however, by Glouglou, who, stepping forward The reader will scarcely believe that M. M. de and addressing De Tourville, saidTourville and De Beaupré found this consola"Is there no possibility, monsieur, of arrangtion, this charm, in the loveliness of the morning this unpleasant matter amicably? I am ing. We should have ill pourtrayed the cha-willing to render you any apology you may racters and dispositions of these men did any of our readers feel even a doubt on the subject. With unthinking hearts, and amid a charge and counter-charge of repartee, they both proceeded to the place of assignation. Once, and only the conversation flowed into a channel of seriousness, or rather, the Count de Beaupré condescended to show that he at least was thinking of the approaching affair; for, after the lapse of a few moments of silence, he suddenly addressed his acquaintance once, "By-the-bye, de Tourville, what think you of our friend Glouglou's courage? Do you seriously believe he will really keep this appointment ?" "For many reasons, yes," replied de Tourville; " and I am inclined to found my belief on the reasoning, that though the courage of M. Glouglou may not be so very prominent a characteristic as that worthy man's nose, yet that the challenge was made in too public and too marked a manner for him to be able well to avoid the meeting." "Well, time will prove," rejoined De Beaupré; for my part, I scarcely am so sanguine as to imagine he will meet us, as you believe; the terror he exhibited at the spielhaus amply speaks for the extent of his cowardice." "It would perhaps afford us more amusement were he not to do so," laughed De Tourville. Poor wretch!" continued De Beaupré in the same strain. "Ha, ha, ha! I think I see and hear him now, with that terrified hangdog look, rubbing his nose, and crying, Sacre bleu! what will Madame Glouglou say?' Ha, ha, ha!" And the twain worthies laughed long and loudly. They soon reached the gate of the city indicated by them; and passing through it, the functionary who opened it, leered grimly at De Tourville with a knowing air, as he said, jerking his thumb behind him, "They are gone on before, monsieur." 66 How long ago?" inquired De Tourville. Scarcely ten minutes," was the reply. "So soon? muttered the other. "Ha! this looks something like earnest, De Beaupré, eh !" "Ma foi! yes," laconically answered that personage. "Let us be more speedy then ;" and advancing at a quicker pace along the road, in a few minutes they arrived at the meadow, which was effectually sheltered from the gaze of persons on the road by a copse of underwood flanking its whole extent. Their antagonists were already on the ground, and seemed as if anticipating their approach. By a simultaneous movement, the four bowed formally to each other; after which, a moment of silence and It is too late now," responded De Tourville, haughtily. "Too late!" echoed his victim. "Too late? You have never yet even given me the opportunity to apologise, or at least to make the slightest explanation; and I "I did not come here for argument," interrupted his antagonist. "My object is to receive satisfaction at your hands-the satisfaction of the blood of one or both of us, monsieur: do you understand me?" "And you SHALL have it, monsieur!" exclaimed Glouglou's companion, in whom our readers will doubtless recognize Alexandre de Laval. A heightened colour lit up his face as he heard the bitter insult offered to his uncle. With the impetuosity of a young man, and the fire and spirit of a brave one, he continued, “You shall have it, but not from the hands of my uncle. Reflect, monsieur! how inglorious an encounter would be with a man whose hair is already whitening for the scythe of time to reap. Consider all the disparities of his years and person, and oppose your sword against the breast of one who never wore a weapon, if you can." De Beaupré was silent, but his boks were significantly in favour of the young man, whom he knew not, but who, with such energy and such justice, placed the array of circumstances before De Tourville so eloquently. He had almost resolved to beg the latter to proceed no further, when that personage of our narrative addressed Alexandre "I must request that no more delay take place," he said;," and if Monsieur Glouglou denies me the satisfaction he is bound to grant, why—— دو "There remains only one other course for me to adopt," interrupted Alexandre," and that is, monsieur, to offer myself as my uncle's substitute. I am young, monsieur, and it is natural that this duty should devolve upon me. To my uncle I owe everything; and the sacrifice of a life, even should I fall, would scarcely repay my debt of gratitude." "No! no, my dear boy," sobbed Glouglou, embracing Alexandre. "No, no, I will fight this noble myself!" "Hush! hush!" whispered his nephew, gently disengaging himself; "hush! do not let them observe how deeply we both feel this trying moment; let them not exult over our sorrow." And the face of the young man, which as he spoke wore a profound expression of sadness, brightened, though it was with a cold, impassive look, as he endeavoured to reassure his uncle, who appeared to struggle in vain with his emotion. "Do you accept my offer, monsieur?" he inquired politely of De Tourville. The latter hesitated. In truth he was not, despite all his drawbacks, a coward. The sin of fear, morally or physically speaking, formed no part of his disposition, so that it was not on that account he hesitated. And yet what was the cause of his hesitation? Did he at length feel a remorse for his heartless and unthinking joke? Did he now feel that a retribution would at length occur? Did he-the skilful swordsman-the experienced duellist-did his heart feel that if the noble-looking and handsome young man were to perish, on him would be entailed the sin of murder? Did his soul seek to pierce the dark veil of the future, or whisper the eternity of his punishment? It might, or might not be-still he hesitated; and beckoning De Beaupré to his side, he conferred with his friend, in whispers, for a second or two, after which the latter, advancing to Alexandre, said, bowing "My friend consents to your offer, Monsieur; allow me to measure your weapon!" Alexandre delivered his sword to De Beaupré, and advanced to his uncle, who was standing at some paces distance, as if his grief (or his fear) had rendered him powerless. "Take courage, my dear uncle," he whispered, affectionately; "if for my sake, take courage. To see you thus will unman me in the present encounter. Be consoled; I fear not-why then should you? Courage, then!" Glouglou endeavoured desperately to assume a calmness, and, after a severe struggle, succeeded. In the meantime, De Beaupré advanced once more to Alexandre, and, returning his sword, said Your weapon, Monsieur, is of exactly the same size as mine; which, as his own is a trifle longer, my friend M. de Tourville will, with your permission, use. Alexandre de Laval bowed silently his assent, and the opponents, throwing off their coats, took their position. Taller and more muscular, the chances were immeasurably in De Tourville's favour, even had he not been a perfect master of his weapon, brave and cool. Their swords crossed, and it needed not a second for the professed duellist to discover that his opponent had scarcely ever handled a weapon in his life, and was entirely at his mercy. De Tourville was, in reality, possessed of some good feelings; and his sole object on the present occasion was to disarm his antagonist. But this was not a thing so easy of accomplishment in the present instance, as, notwithstanding his want of skill, with a well nerved arm, a courageous heart, and a quick eye, that incessantly kept watch over his opponent's motions, Alexandre might in reality render such a proceeding impossible. De Tourville resolved to make the attempt, however, and by a fortunate and masterly stroke en carte, attained his object. The sword flew from Alexandre's hand, with an impetus that carried it several yards; the weapon of De Tourville was held an inch from his breast. "I am at your mercy, Monsieur," exclaimed Alexandre, in a low tone, but without tremor. "And I am satisfied," returned De Tourville, at the same time lowering his sword. The poor uncle, who had stood breathlessly waiting the issue, and was paralyzed when he beheld the situation of his nephew, rushed forward at these words, and, after embracing him with all the vehemence of his nature, turned to De Tourville, profusely thanking him. per "Say no more," coldly interrupted that son, "say no more, the subject were best dropped. You owe me nothing." He turned courteously to his late antagonist, and, bowing, said "May I be permitted, Monsieur, to know how you are called, that I may remember, by it, one of the few circumstances of my life worthy of recollection." "Alexandre de Laval owes you a debt of gratitude, which, if he could, he would gladly repay!" "De Laval!" echoed De Beaupré, hastily, and, as if striving to recall something to his memory, "De Laval? Stay," he continued, as if a light had burst upon him, and drawing from his coat some tablets, which he eagerly examined. Ha, it is so! my memory does not usually desert me! Monsieur," he added, addressing Alexandre, on whose face, as upon those of the rest, astonishment at the strange interruption was depicted, are you of the family of the De 66 Lavals, of Anjou ?” "He is," replied Glouglou; "he is the son of Philippe de Laval, and the grandson of Auguste de Laval, the present Compte de Laval!" Present no more," continued De Beaupré; "he is dead. He died some time before I left Paris; and what is more, has bequeathed all his estates to his grandson, if he be living. This grandson, who I am told is his only descendant, must be you, Monsieur Alexandre; and if you can produce proof of your identity, I shall have to congratulate you on possessing one of the oldest and finest estates in France. To say that both Alexandre and his uncle were not surprized and delighted at this strange intelligence, would be affectedly to deny the truth; but it would be infinitely short of the truth were we to omit to record that no one selfish feeling swayed Alexandre, for he only thought of Isabelle, and rejoiced at his good fortune for her sake only. The four persons so lately engaged in a hostile, and possibly deadly encounter, therefore departed, none of them, sooth to say, mortified at its issue; and in dismissing Alexander de Laval and his uncle from the scene of our narrative, in which they will appear no more, we must be content shortly to narrate that in their journey to Paris the intelligence they had received was found to be perfectly correct. The necessary proofs of identification were quickly adduced to satisfy the legal tribunal, Alexandre assumed his title and his estates, and in a short time Monsieur and Madame D'Arcet, with the fair Isabelle, arrived in France; and in the union of the latter with Alexandre, two hearts were |